Chapter 194: Italy, Im Here! (1/2)
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The link is also in the synopsis.
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The shopping area located in London, England, consisted of Diagon Alley — a play on diagonally, Horizont Alley — a play on horizontally, Knockturn Alley — a play on the word nocturnally, and finally, there was Vertic Alley — a play on the term. Vertically had to do with every building in the alley having multiple floors above and below the ground.
Within Vertic Alley stood a long-time restaurant, the Cirkus, proudly serving the magical population of the British Isles for over a hundred years. The restaurant was divided into three levels — the base level, three floors just above the ground open to any and everyone who would want to dine delicious food; the bottom level, three floors providing to the shady members who required privacy; and the top level, three levels catering to the needs to rich and wealthy with more personalized services.
On the top level, two men sat facing each other in a private booth.
”Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. West,” said Dumbledore, sporting his trademark long white beard and hair and half-moon glasses.
George wordlessly nodded as he mixed a spoonful of red crystal sugar into his tea. After getting so many letters, both via owls and MagiFax, he decided to grant Dumbledore a meeting.
”What is it that you want, Dumbledore,” he asked.
”I wanted to talk about getting your help and support,” said Dumbledore, ”now that Voldemort has returned, your support could be essential to stop his rise—.”
”That is assuming that the Dark Lord has returned. You and your faction have been actively spouting about his return.. .. constantly. It was fine for a while, but now, it is just plain annoying.”
”You know it as well as I do that the Dark Lord has returned.”
George hummed, ”There has been some chatter.”
”Then you know if he is to return, we are on a path to another war.”
”I am aware of that possibility. You-Know-Who will start his conquest once, and if I know anything about him, he'll be more aggressive this time around, more brutal, more ruthless, more cunning.. . .”
”That's why I'm asking for your help. If you would support our cause, then it would be of help to keep Voldemort away from taking over.”
”When you say your cause, what do you exactly mean by it.”
Dumbledore paused for a moment at the question from George. His mind went through the reason behind it. ”.. .. In Wizengamot and the Order of Phoenix.”
”The Light faction and your little vigilante group,” said George translating, ”you know very well that the rare times I participate in Wizengamot, I tend to align myself with the interest of the Grey faction, and your little personal army while had been a crucial player in the war, isn't very efficient — I would be much more inclined to fund Amelia Bones and her Auror's office than you.”
”West, I insist that we portray a united front against Voldemort and his Death Eater,” said Dumbledore. ”With your help, we could pull the Grey faction to our side, ensuring that Voldemort won't be able to pull new blood from the Grey collective.”
”Tell me, Dumbledore. What was my stance in the last war?”
”You remained neutral — The West family didn't support Voldemort, but neither did they do anything to oppose him.”
”And, then.”
”Then you took your family and fled the country just before the war reached its peak.”
”Exactly. I don't want to get involved in this war, Dumbledore,” said the West patriarch, but before Dumbledore could interject, George continued, ”how about this, Dumbledore, if you discard the non-lethal policy your vigilante group follows, and employee lethal or even semi-lethal spells against Death Eaters, then I will provide resources to your little group.”
It was a well-known fact that while Barty Crouch Senior (who was now missing and many thought him to be dead) in his tenure as the Head of DMLE had managed to get his Aurors and Hit Wizards a license to kill, torture, and control by allowing them to use lethal and Unforgivable against Death Eaters.
Death Eaters, of course, didn't follow any law and were unrestrained in the use of any and all spells they could perform. They used Unforgivables in all recorded and unrecorded confrontations without fail and piled up most kills out of all parties involved.
Then there was Dumbledore's Order of Phoenix. They only employed non-lethal means and handed anyone they caught to the Auror's office for further judgment. The Order had Aurors in their ranks, and while they were on duty, they were given their choice of following the new policy, but when working for the Order, they were strictly off any lethal.
”I can't agree to that,” said Dumbledore firmly.
”Then there's nothing to talk about,” shrugged George.
”West, you must understand—”
”No! I'm not going to fund an outfit that won't use lethal spells against opponents who will kill them without a single thought. I refuse to help an organization whose members are on a sure-fire path to their deaths,”
George stared firmly at Dumbledore.
”Dumbledore, I don't give a single knut of thought about blood purity, but the war was fought on it, and do you know how many noble families were extinguished in the war. So many of those now dead families or with only a few members left were from your faction. It was because of your choices that led them to their death.”
George reeled back and picked up his teacup once again, ”If I'm to risk my family by taking a side, then it better be a side that is actually trying to make a difference.”
Dumbledore remained silent. As George had so firmly stated, the Order of Phoenix was a vigilante group — they didn't have the official authority to use lethal force against Death Eaters, at least not when they were trying to 'hunt' said Death Eaters.
”I can't.. . .” he said.
”Then any talk of me helping you with my resources is out of the question.”
”Voldemort will come for Hogwarts,” said Dumbledore, trying to pull on an emotional slant.
”I'm sure you will be able enough to protect Hogwarts, Dumbledore. I've complete confidence in your ability to defend our shared alma mater from the big bad Dark Lord.” While George had fond memories of Hogwarts, he wasn't that attached to it.
”Even when your grandson is inside?”
George sighed as he set down his teacup, ”Why did you have to bring Quinn up?”
”Your grandson is an anomaly. He's what one would see as far away from your average student — but if there's one thing I do know about him is that he loves Hogwarts.”
”So what?”
”If you ask him to leave Hogwarts, knowing that Voldemort might strike in the next two years, will he leave?”
George stared into his steaming tea. Both he and Dumbledore knew the answer to that question.
”You know Quinn won't leave,” Dumbledore answered for George.
”What do you want, Dumbledore. We both know that you won't let my men inside the castle grounds, and in case Voldemort does strike, I can't do anything from the outside.”
”That's alright,” said Dumbledore, ”I don't want your men for protection — I'm more than capable of that. What I'm worried about are the children. When Voldemort moves, he will go after the children outside Hogwarts; as such, I want to keep the children inside the castle — I'm sure most parents would agree with it. But for that to happen, I would need money to keep the school running — I'm asking you that if such a time comes, you will help me keep Hogwarts a safe-hold for the children.”
”You realize how this conversation just went from you stating Hogwarts will be a target to saying that you want to make that target into a safehold,” said George before sighing, ”if that's all you want, I can provide it. If you can protect Hogwarts, then I'll keep the school running when the times get hard.”
George knew the real reason why Quinn wouldn't leave Hogwarts if he asked him to — it wasn't the castle that Quinn loved, but the people inside Hogwarts. As long as his friends are inside Hogwarts, Quinn won't leave them alone.
'That doesn't mean I can't try to make his friends leave Hogwarts during the time of dangers,' thought George, and he wasn't a West if he didn't give it a try.
”Speaking of, how is Quinn doing?” asked Dumbledore. ”Has he recovered?”
”His eyes back to normal. In fact,” George looked at his pocket watch gifted to him by Quinn, ”his Portkey must have left just a minute ago.”
”Oh my, where?”
”Rome, Italy.”
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- (Scene Break) -
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Quinn opened his eyes to find himself in an empty street. Landmarked by red, orange, yellow stone buildings.
”So, this is Rome, huh,” he said.
This street of Rome reminded him so much of Oxford, their narrowness, and the tallness of the stone buildings. They sprung up long before the invention of the car and will be here long after the non-magicals were done away with such things.
He looked at a faraway corner of the street and found what he assumed to be a gelateria shaped like a fancy chocolate box. A line of locals and tourists alike stream from the open window, the newest customers walking away with every color of ice cream on the fanciest of waffle cones.
The scene was enough to draw a smile from his lips; it was so right out of some children's book, the hues so perfect. The ground is made up of deep grey bricks, and the buildings are the warm tones of sandstone. Against it, the gelateria is pinks, blues, greens - almost bringing to mind a nursery for a baby.
”I will be eating so much gelato,” he smiled.
”I'm sure you will.”
Quinn turned to the deep voice and saw a man dressed in a white shirt and black pants leaning against a brownstone door.
”Mr. Aksel Thorn,” a smile bloomed on Quinn's face, ”so you will be acting as my chauffeur once again.”
The man standing in front of him was his chauffeur at his time in Denmark. He was the part-owner of the private security contractor, The Limax Group — a firm owned by the Wests.
”My job description this time is as your bodyguard.”
”It's the same thing,” chuckled Quinn. ”The adventures of Askel Thorn and Balbh East are going to rock the restaurants of Italy.”
”If that's what you wish to do, then I'll accompany you, though I would prefer you keep it to a minimum. Your antics last time made my job much harder.”
”You're still so serious. I told you to loosen up, didn't I?”