The English resistance fighters save the confederation agents.

Constance Webb was having trouble breathing. But it had nothing to do with the hood covering her face. Nor with the stench that had been assaulting her since her captors had made her teleport.

Upon arriving on English soil, her group had been attacked. Yet they were representatives of the International Magical Confederation. Had they lost their minds? Even Grindelwald had never dared to attack the confederation so openly. For the first time in a long while, she was afraid. She was about to have a panic attack when her hood was removed. She looked all around her to catch the slightest clue about where she was, but vomited before she could analyze anything. She now knew where that awful smell that caught her throat came from. She pulled herself together and forced herself to examine the place thoroughly. She had been here before, she was sure of it. Despite her disgust, she forced herself to examine the place carefully, then noticed a detail: the engravings behind the gigantic pyres where bodies twisted in pain were burning. It was the hall of the Ministry of Magic. But it wasn't possible. And yet, she had to accept it. This antechamber of hell was indeed the hall of the Ministry.

The unrecognizable walls were now covered with a black dust that, she was sure, was composed of human ashes. The place once so lively was entirely silent except for a continuous chanting, regularly interrupted by the sound of whips coming from the former location of the magical fraternity fountain. She turned in its direction and saw that in place of the fountain now stood a gigantic statue of Voldemort who, sitting on a pile of corpses of different species, was being crowned by Salazar Slytherin. In front of the statue, men and women of all ages, half-naked, were chained and forced by a guard to continuously recite prayers to the statue. When one of them faltered, they were whipped until they found the strength to start again.

A chilling voice interrupted his thoughts:

I hope you like it. I plan to redecorate the world this way.

She turned in the direction of the cold voice that had spoken its words and swallowed. In front of her sat on a golden throne was Harry Potter, who was looking at her with his red eyes full of hate.

You (...) You won't get away with it like that.

Well, I see that diplomats are not as cowardly as they are said to be. But I am afraid this is only a pious wish. There is no one left to oppose me. From now on, all will bow before me. Or their family will meet the same fate. He harangued, pointing to the poor souls who continued to offer their prayers to the glory of Voldemort. Besides, if you want to watch the show, a spot has just become available.

He cast a Wingardium Leviosa. Constance looked up and saw that above Voldemort, a dozen people were crucified. One of them came loose and was ejected to the foot of the statue. Then Harry screamed in a terrifying voice:

Edgard Guzman. I grant you a minute of respite to say goodbye to your father. Then, throw him into the pyre. It's starting to get cold here.

Constance was so terrified that she could only silently watch a man in his twenties being untied and start crying in front of the corpse. Then he dried his tears, grabbed the body and, as requested, threw it into the fire, where it burned, spreading a vile smell.

One last thing, Edgard. If you survive the ordeal of genuflection. Know that from now on, you will succeed your father as the paterfamilias of your domain. If a member of your family dares, even just to think about disobeying me, you will be held responsible.

Yes, my lord. I will not disappoint you.

Harry turned once more to Constance, who couldn't help but tremble.

As for you, I will be direct: join me. Or you will face the consequences.

Constance gathered all her courage.

No. I would rather die than work for a monster like you.

A monster, you say? I should kill you. However, I really need a new agent within the international magical confederation. I fear that by transmitting the time and place of your arrival to me, my current agent has exposed himself a bit too much. An evening with Macnair might make you change your mind. Take her to the dungeons.

Immediately, a Death Eater with blond hair who couldn't have been more than 14 years old put a hood over her head and magically dragged her into the ministry's basement.

oOoOoOo

She remained alone for several hours, worrying in a stinking cell. At first, she tried to find a way to escape, but this was not fiction here. The walls were solid, and there was no chance she could surprise the guard who would come to take her to her torturer. Once she had resigned herself to the idea of escape, she looked for a way to end her life before being taken to this Macnair. But no matter how hard she searched, she found nothing. She must not have been the first prisoner to attempt something like that. Despite the filth covering the place, she sat on the floor and began to think. Anyway, she had little choice, as her cell had no furniture (except for a bucket for her needs).

She had not lied to the lord of darkness. What she had seen since her arrival had convinced her that even death was sweeter than living under his yoke. For the first time, she understood why the English had come to fear even pronouncing the name of this abject being. She knew that if she got out of it, she would banish from her life anything that could remind her of those few minutes spent in his throne room.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps coming in her direction, followed by the complaints of prisoners packed into the other cells. Unlike the others, at least, she had the privilege of an individual cell. Everyone was begging the visitor, whoever it was. Some were asking for water, others for food, but most often, they were just asking for news of their loved ones. A short, masked man in Death Eater attire stopped in front of her cell and opened it. Immediately, she lunged at him. She had no illusions. Without her wand, she had no chance of escaping. She just hoped that in surprise, he would push her back violently enough to mortally wound her. After all, men capable of serving that monster must themselves be bloodthirsty beasts prone to extreme violence. But to her great surprise, he stepped aside, and, carried by her momentum, she crashed into the door of another cell.

The Death Eater said in a drawling voice:

It's okay, are you done playing? Now, if you value your life, follow me. I'll try to get you out.

What, what? She stammered.

You are as silly as a Gryffindor.

The man, taking advantage of her momentary dizziness, violently grabbed her by the arm and forcefully dragged her through the corridors. The Death Eater did not inspire any trust in her, but he was her only hope. So she resolved to obey him. They had to repeatedly hide to let guard patrols pass and take detours in the ministry's underground passages she hadn't known existed until then. It must be said that she had only come once at the end of the last war to verify that the universal declaration of wizards' rights was being respected. Or rather, that it wasn't. She had understood from her first day that her report had no other purpose than to make it appear that procedures had been followed. At the time, she hadn't understood how the great Dumbledore could tolerate such abuses. Even less that he would validate the censorship of her work. Now, she glimpsed the reasons that had motivated the venerable wizard.

They finally arrived at the level of the hall, near the fireplaces that were now sealed off. But at their feet lay an unconscious guard. Her guardian angel forcefully placed her on his back and assumed a combat position. Without warning, he cast an extremely vicious dark magic spell towards what seemed to be an empty corner of the room, but an incantation resounded and it loudly struck a shield.

To his great surprise, he then lowered his wand and said with surprise:

Nott!

He removed his hood and she could see that it was the young man who had locked her in the underground earlier.

Malfoy. Responded a voice without emotion. Immediately after, two boys the same age as her savior appeared. But they did not lower their wands. The first thought that came to Constance was: 'they are so young'.

What are you doing here? Are you flaunting your mudblood heritage?

The one who seemed to be targeted by the racist insult replied:

And you, did you finally find someone desperate enough to sleep with you? Unless you like them mature?

Constance was offended, but fear kept her silent. But Malfoy was not as restrained as she was:

You filthy vermin, you should already be grateful that I let you breathe the same air as me.

Stop! Ordered the one who must have been Nott. He had not raised his voice, but he had pronounced this simple word with such authority that everyone fell silent, waiting for what would come next.

Malfoy. We are two and you are alone. You can't win so surrender.

Mudblood counts for half a wizard. His protector spat without showing any sign of surrendering.

You filthy little (..) began the so-called mudblood, but Nott stopped him with a gesture. Malfoy continued with satisfaction in his irritating drawl:

And anyway, a duel would attract too much attention. Besides, the sound of my spell hitting your shield must have already alerted the guards that you haven't already stunned. If I were you, I would flee before they arrive.

So that you attack us from behind. I would rather try to fight you and escape afterwards. Replied the Muggle-born.

Certainly, you seem in a hurry to die. But fortunately for you, I have other fish to fry. Let my guest go and I promise to youLet me be stupefied. Whatever you came here to do, it suits me. I was just wondering how I was going to manage to hide my role in his escape.

Nott seems intrigued:

Who is she?

I don't see why you would need to know.

I am Constance Webb. Sent from the international confederation. She said, annoyed at being treated as if she were not present in the room.

Did I give you permission to speak, you filthy hag? Malfoy insulted automatically.

But it was apparently the thing to do, because the two young men lowered their wands in turn.

Madam, my name is Justin Finch-Fletchley and he is Theodore Nott. Excuse me for my remark earlier. It is you we have come to find. Come with us and we will escort you to Hogwarts (...)

No, she must leave the country before the master realizes her disappearance. Malfoy shouted, almost hysterically.

And how do you want to do that? Our only chance to cross the barrier is to take him to Hogwarts so that what's left of the Ministry gives him an international Portkey.

No way am I putting my life in the hands of those corrupt incompetents! She is leaving the country, period. The outside world absolutely needs to know what's happening here if we hope for the confederation to intervene.

Malfoy, thank you for your help, but (…)

I don't help mudbloods, I just want to see the scarred one die.

As you wish, I don't like it either, but I assure you we have no choice.

Very well, do as you wish. Malfoy finally conceded upon hearing footsteps in the distance.

He threw Constance roughly in their direction.

Stun me before you leave. And make sure it's convincing or (…)

Stupefy. Shouted Justin

He put so much power into the spell that Malfoy was thrown into the air and violently hit the wall. His lifeless body then collapsed onto the floor. Blood ran down his skull. Nott looked at Justin sternly.

What? He said it had to be convincing. Justin defended himself.

Nott sighed, but decided to move on and motioned for Constance to follow him. None of them noticed that a rat was following them to the place where Blaise was keeping their thestrals.

Okay, get on behind me. Ordered Nott. With a bit of luck, we'll be at Hogwarts before the alarm is raised.

No. Constance simply affirmed.

How come no? Said Nott.

I cannot leave until I have completed my investigation, explained the diplomat.

Because you haven't seen enough, perhaps? Blaise asked incredulously.

It is precisely because I have seen too much that I will not leave until I am sure I have enough evidence to convince even the most reluctant members of the confederation. Unfortunately, I know from experience that my memories or my testimony under Veritaserum will not be enough. I would need other evidence.

We don't care about your reports. All we want is to get out of here with you. Shouted Blaise.

I didn't go through all that for nothing. Thank you for saving me, but from now on, I'll manage on my own. Just give me a thestral and I'll be on my way.

Nott cast a quick glance at the other two. They were all thinking the same thing. If he let her go now, goodbye to their tickets to the continent. After a moment, he nodded:

It's too dangerous to travel alone. Besides, you can't even see the thestrals. He stated as he saw her staring into the void a few centimeters from the head of his thestral. Promise us that we can come with you to Switzerland and accompany you. Where do you want to go?

I can manage on my own and you are too young for me to...

Where do you want to go? Nott cut her off authoritatively as he mounted his thestral.

To Azkaban.