Chapter 99: The Minister for Magic and the Muggle
"There's no need to be so serious, Headmaster," Ryan said, trying to diffuse the tension. "This prophecy isn't directly related to the doomsday prophecies... I don't think it's related, anyway."
The vision that had come to him was of a meeting in a grand, Muggle-style manor. Two men were in conversation. One was the current British Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. The other was an elderly, white-haired woman whom many people around the world equated with the British Isles themselves.
The accompanying text was even more cryptic: [Be it sincere or feigned, be it by choice or by force, a first step is taken. And what is the difference between the first step and the last?]
Ryan conjured an image of the scene and the text in the air for the three old wizards to see.
"Heh," Gellert was the first to speak. "I've been out of the loop for so long. I had no idea the Minister for Magic had become so bold. This is quite the spectacle." To see the supposed guardian of the Statute of Secrecy consorting with Muggles... Gellert was enjoying this particular piece of gossip immensely.
"When is this meeting supposed to take place?" Dumbledore asked. Having dealt with Ryan's own flagrant disregard for the Statute of Secrecy for years, he was not as shocked by Fudge's actions as he might have been. Nicolas Flamel, for his part, didn't recognize either Fudge or the old woman.
"Three days from now," Ryan said. "Right after the Order of Merlin ceremony, Fudge will meet with the Queen of England." He pointed to the text. "And the prophecy mentions 'by choice or by force.' I suspect Fudge is doing this partly to assert his own independence from the Dumbledore-Welles faction, and partly because he's being coerced."
"The pure-blood families who support him would never force him to meet with a Muggle leader," Ryan continued, his mind piecing together the puzzle. "Which means someone else is pulling the strings. And it just so happens that we've recently discovered a mysterious organization with a legendary alchemist in its ranks."
"If this weren't a prophecy, I wouldn't believe it," Dumbledore said, a grim look on his face. The timing of it all was too coincidental. If these events had unfolded naturally, he would have suspected a setup, with the meeting between Fudge and the Queen as the final, devastating move. But this was a prophecy. The mysterious organization, if it existed, could not have predicted Ryan's vision and planned accordingly. If anything, they would be in a state of panic, wondering who among them was the traitor.
"But since it is a prophecy," Dumbledore continued, "we must take it seriously. It seems we have a busy schedule ahead of us. First, we have Voldemort to deal with, and now, a new, unknown organization has emerged."
"An unknown organization..." Nicolas Flamel mused. "In all my years, I have never encountered anything like it." This only added to the mystery. For an immortal to claim he had never seen a trace of this group meant one of two things.
"Either this organization has existed for over a millennium, hidden in the shadows, and is only now making its move," Ryan said, voicing the two possibilities. "Or, it has appeared out of nowhere, with an alchemist whose skills, in certain areas, rival Master Flamel's." Both options, he thought, were equally terrifying and defied all logic.
This was a matter for the great wizards of the world to handle. He wisely decided to focus on his own task: finding stand-ins for the award ceremony. "I'll go and find our actors," he said. "Let me know if you need anything." He left the office, confident that the three most powerful wizards in the world could handle the situation.
After Ryan had gone, Nicolas Flamel picked up the dagger again. "The blade is newly forged," he said, "but the hilt is not. The hilt is an existing alchemical artifact, and it is not imbued with the same concept as the blade. They are two separate pieces." With a flick of his finger, he separated the blade from the hilt. The hilt immediately began to corrode, crumbling into a rusty, porous ball of iron. The blade, however, remained as sharp and deadly as ever.
"The hilt was preserved by the blade's power," Dumbledore said. "But why? Why not simply forge a complete weapon?"
"The style and technique of the two pieces are completely different," Gellert observed, his magical senses analyzing the distinct auras of the blade and the remnants of the hilt. "Why would an alchemist of this caliber choose to build a masterpiece on a broken foundation?" It was a baffling question. Threatening a master alchemist into doing such a thing was out of the question.
(Nicolas Flamel: Don't think for a second that alchemists can't fight. If you doubt it, just ask a certain someone who shall not be named how he enjoyed my ultimate curse-breaking spell.)
Back in the Adventurers' Club, Ryan checked his communicator and found the group chat in an uproar. Some were wondering where he had been for the past five days. Others were congratulating him on the Order of Merlin. And a third group was excitedly discussing the communicator's sales figures and the revenue from the bundled game.
"Hogwarts: The Betrayal is a massive success!"
"Thanks to Ryan's brilliant (and evil) no-pity lottery system, some of the wealthier players have spent thousands of Galleons!"
The Weasley twins, who had negotiated a 1% commission, were ecstatic. In just five days, they had earned several dozen Galleons each, making them the highest earners in the Weasley family. Even the great Prefect Percy was now treating them with a newfound respect. Their parents, who had always disapproved of their entrepreneurial ambitions, were now speechless in the face of their sons' staggering success, conveniently forgetting all their previous lectures about the importance of getting a respectable job at the Ministry.
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