Intermission 2

"Master," Quirrell coughs and spits some blood into a hanky, "the honour of hosting you is becoming too much for my body."

"What of the unicorn blood?"

Quirrell coughs again, "I need heart blood, but the Unicorns have become more adept at hiding since the last hunt where they gathered at that structure in the forest."

"This is disturbing, they shouldn't be able to hide from you. Copy down this ritual, then find someone of weak will, preferably magical."

"What will the ritual do?"

"Why? It will pit your willpower against the person in the other circle. The winner takes the health of the loser, while the loser takes all the ills, including curses. Just remember to stop before they die, otherwise you'll take on their soul too."

Quirrell swallows, hard, "Master..." licking his lips he tries again, "Master, is this, is there no, what about."

"Quirrell, you came to me for power. Yet now you're getting a taste of it you're quailing like a first year?"

"No Master, it's just..."

"Such a very large step? Come now, you were willing to take the life of a Unicorn, what's the life of a person that's fallen to vice in comparison?"

"But my lord, it's soul magic."

"Only if you let it go on too long. I can trust that your moral fortitude won't go that far, can't I?"

═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════

Silvana shudders as something she can't put her finger on changes. Yawning, she stretches and then pauses. The lead stallion of the unicorn herd comes over and nuzzles her face, and she brings her hand up to stroke its head. As she does, she freezes as the fact her hand is a light shade of green registers.

"How?"

The unicorn just nickers as her legs go weak and she collapses to the floor. The forest is still loud in her senses, with the nearby Grineer spreading their poison across the planet. After a while Silvana stirs and stands on shaky legs due to the shock of having a body again. As she does, the stallion nudges her of balance. Reflexively she steps back into the first tree she planted after she returned to earth, and her human sight vanishes once more as her sense of the forest and its inhabitants expands to encompass the entire forest.

Unseen due to the vegetation covering it, the cairn that covered Silvana's remains sinks into the ground slightly. The stone marker that was placed at her head lists slightly away from the cliff edge.

═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════

With the Wizengamot, ICW, and school all having a recess at the same time for the new year celebrations around the world, Albus wakes at the late hour of 8am. Staggering over to his desk he looks at the enchantment diagrams for the Mirror, then yawns. Rubbing his eyes with one hand he shakes his head ruefully, obviously he's too tired to work on it today, so tonight he'll take a dreamless sleep at 10, and then move the mirror tomorrow.

Making his way down to the great hall in his nightshirt, he stops when he enters as there aren't as many teachers as he expected. Making his way to his chair at the round table they use over Christmas, he helps himself to some bacon and eggs before looking over at Septima,

"Vector," must observe proprietaries in front of students, "have I already missed Minerva?"

Septima cocks her head to one side and narrows her eyes, "She has Christmas off, as well you know. Don't bother looking for Aurora either, she's dealing with family business all Christmas."

"But what about the thing?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sorry, I misspoke."

After consuming some food and drink, Albus feels somewhat brighter as he looks around the table at the staff and students that are wintering in the castle. While he does, he starts to feel somewhat nostalgic as the scene reminds him of his youth, and how around half the school would stay for the holidays. Their parents would floo to Hogsmeade to meet their children over the holiday. His own parents did that more than once while he was a student here. However, two large wars within 50 years have taken their toll on the population leaving each year with a fraction of the students that should be here.

As the first tear rolls into his beard, Albus makes himself a sandwich, "Excuse me everyone, but I fear this has just become a working breakfast. I hope to catch up with you all over the rest of the holiday. Those of you doing your NEWTs, remember that you need to take breaks over the holiday, even the staff are doing that."

Once he gets back to his office, he pulls a leather-bound photo album from the same drawer he's keeping the philosopher's stone. Sitting back, he allows tears to fall as he looks at the photos of every friend and acquaintance he's lost over the last two wars. Fawkes flutters over to perch on the back of his chair and croon to him.

The next day Albus moves the Mirror of Erised to his own office, as without his deputy, he can't afford not be available to the rest of the staff. The school paperwork sits accusingly on his desk while he tries to concentrate on getting the enchantments just right.

═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════

Croaker picks up the metal, plastic, and glass rectangle and waves it at Shade, "What am I looking at here?"

Shade shakes his head, "Honestly, I don't know. All I know is that Gringotts are starting to use these everywhere."

"How do they use it?"

"Again, I have no answers I'm afraid. It's taken us two months just to get this one sample. It takes less time to prepare for looking in their vaults than it does getting these."

"Will they know it's missing?"

"Almost certainly, but the magic we used seems to have rendered it inert. From what we can tell, there's absolutely no magic involved."

"Why so much prep time?"

"They never put them down in any of the public or human areas of the bank. None of our goblin contacts were even allowed close to them either. The goblin that had this had a habit of putting it down for a couple of seconds at a time." – Shade pinches the bridge of his nose, "We had to invent a brand-new switching spell that would only work if the object didn't have any contact with a living creature."

"How about your investigation into the ripples in the veil of death?"

"Frustrating. Every time we think we've got something that works, we find out that it's just detecting the same things we are. Namely the veil itself, or rather where it interacts with the world. Whatever is causing those ripples, we can't detect it."

═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════

"Ironclaw"

"Yes Director?"

The Director hands over a tablet, "I believe that this is one of yours."

Ironclaw's eyes narrow and he growls softly, "Where did you get that from?"

"A representative from MIM5 delivered it in a Jiffy bag. There was a letter attached."

"I see, and where did they get it from?"

Wordlessly the Director hands over the letter.

Director,

I hope that your coffers have grown since our last contact. A contact in the DOM was able to recover this during the course of their work. We have produced a mock-up using state of the art technology that looks the part but will not turn on. As you are probably aware, HMG keeps a weather eye on the magical world after the last civil war spread outside your own borders. The existence of beyond cutting-edge technology in your own hands has raised a few eyebrows. However, we would be willing to turn a blind eye to your own use of it, if you in turn would consent to allowing a few of your people to work with SoS certified researchers on unravelling the secrets of this technology.

Sincerely

M

It takes everything Ironclaw has not to snarl at the Director, "What is our position on this?"

"We can not evacuate, we can not survive if the non-magicals choose to wipe us out. Even with the deal with Simaris we can't meaningfully fight back. There are 5,000 goblins living here, and we are the largest colony that we know of. 100 years ago I'd have said fight back. Japan changed that."

"You think they'd use a nuke?"

"If we fought back? I don't know, but I can't bet our peoples lives on no."

"So what do we do?"

"Contact the people that let us have this technology."

Ironclaw rests his weapon on the floor, which for a goblin is the same as a human slumping, "I don't like this."

The Director lays his knife on the desk before walking around and placing a hand on Ironclaw's shoulder, "I know, it goes against our traditions and instincts. However, it's the same as hunting dragons. It is not dishonourable for one goblin to retreat in the face of a dragon even though it can be for a band."

"I see. And the non-magical world is now the dragon."

"Indeed, including the ability to fly and breathe fire. What of our expansion?"

"The first tunnels have been inhabited and we have already seen an increase in pregnancies. We should be seeing a doubling of our population in the next 200 years."

The director nods, "Good. At the next board meeting I'll table drawing up genealogy charts. If we're lucky, the fact that Straightseam hasn't returned yet means they've got permission to establish a colony. If we have that permission, we'll name a new clan, and allow goblins from around the world to send members."

Ironclaw nods, "Would you like me to send an owl?"

The Director smiles, "Thank you for your initiative."