(Vincent POV)
The Wizengamot chamber had never felt so small. It was packed – every seat filled, wizards and witches overflowing into the aisles, their whispers a nervous hum that underscored the tension crackling in the air. Amelia, stern-faced, her wand rapping sharply against the ornate podium, was struggling to restore order.
"Order!" she boomed, her voice amplified by magic, silencing the chatter, for the most part at least.
Beside her, at the Head Auror's seat, Adrian sat with the stillness of a coiled viper, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, taking in the expressions of anxiety and thinly-veiled outrage. Blaise and I were in the balcony reserved for "special guests" . We weren't from the sacred 28 wizarding families or a noble family like the greengrasses and the notts, Daphne's eyes found mine something flashed between us – understanding, determination. We were playing for high stakes.
"We are gathered," Amelia began, "in response to a serious breach in the Statute of Secrecy."
She didn't need to elaborate. The "wizard" reveal had spread across the globe like wildfire, a billion smartphones playing the same clip of Jackson disappearing, the single word "Wizard" ringing out.
Dumbledore, looking grim, rose from his Wizengamot seat. It was rare for him to attend these sessions in person. "Minister," he said, his voice resonant, the hint of steel beneath his usually benevolent tone a reminder of why he'd led their little Order through those dark years, "These 'Shadow Angels,' as the Muggles call them, have willfully and recklessly exposed the magical world." He gestured towards a crystal ball that was replaying those viral clips, an ominous backdrop to his words, "They have acted without authorization, jeopardized our ancient traditions, and must be stopped."
I still think that Dumbledore is pissed that My children did not go to Hogwarts. Instead I sent them to CasteloBruxo. It would've been stupid from me to let my children be under Dumbledore when I knew things could escalate in the future.
Coming back from my thoughts.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, his normally stoic features creased with worry, nodded vigorously. "We can't afford this risk. Not now. Dumbledore's right - they need to be apprehended, Obliviated, and punished."
Sirius Black, was now agitated. "They've undermined centuries of carefully maintained secrecy! Every witch and wizard, every magical creature, is in danger because of those foolhardy actions. These so-called 'heroes' … they need to be brought in! "
The tension crackled as a murmuring agreement, tinged with fear, spread through the chamber, some even nodding along to the old guard's argument. I watched as a group of older wizards, their faces creased with outrage, whispered urgently, pointing at those crystal balls playing Jackson's heroic escapades. I leaned back, watching as the chaos bloomed.
There were, of course, those within the room with opposing views – mainly younger wizards, born into a world on the cusp of change, who looked at those viral clips with curiosity rather than horror.
A younger Auror from Adrian's division stood. "Sir," he addressed Dumbledore, his voice respectful but with a challenge ringing through it, "the Muggles seem to appreciate those rescues, those miraculous events. Maybe…" he hesitated, as if testing a dangerous proposition. "…Maybe, instead of punishing, shouldn't we capitalize? Embrace this positive publicity, initiate a controlled unveiling?" He shot me a furtive glance, and I allowed a small nod of acknowledgment.
"Outrageous!" gasped an elderly witch near the front, clutching her throat as if those words were choking hazards, "Exposure means chaos! The very essence of our society depends on secrecy!"
A wave of anxious chatter broke out again. The old vs. the new. Predictable, but also exactly the disruption I needed.
This time, it was Amelia, her gaze sweeping over the arguing wizards with an icy calm, who brought silence with her next words. "The Chair recognizes Vincent Van Doren."
"Thank you, Minister." My voice was calm, a stark contrast to the roiling tension within the Wizengamot chamber. As I walked up to the podium, the faces of the assembled wizards blurred. It wasn't nerves, not anymore. It was a cold detachment, an assessment of the pawns on the board.
Dumbledore's eyes bored into me. I saw disapproval, Shacklebolt was less guarded – disgust barely masked on his face, as if proximity to a man who'd casually used a gun to kill the Dark Lord was a personal offense.
"Esteemed members of the Wizengamot." I let my gaze sweep over them, pausing for a beat on a few faces, letting them squirm. Half of those sanctimonious old fools owed me favors, a web of gold and blackmail they wouldn't escape even if I disappeared. And the other half? They'd learned fear after the graveyard and the fires that followed.
"The video," I began, gesturing to the shimmering images in those accursed crystal balls, " has shattered the facade. No amount of memory charms, no number of Auror raids, will erase it." The truth hung in the air, heavy, undeniable. The Ministry had built a house of cards for centuries, I'd given it a gentle nudge.
"The wall that was the statute of secrecy has crumbled, gentlemen," I said, my gaze lingering on Dumbledore.
A murmur, uneasy, expectant, spread through the room. They'd known, of course, but denying a reality, a carefully cultivated fiction for centuries? Addictive stuff, comfort in ignorance,
"They don't all fear us," I continued, "Right now, it's a mix. Confusion, excitement… Those 'Shadow Angels'– they've struck a nerve." That crystal ball played the clips - Jackson in the rain, emerging a hero. "Think about it: miracles become reality. Who wouldn't want that?" I need a united front. They had to be reminded.
"Their world needs hope. And some crave that power to answer prayers." My gaze locked with Dumbledore, those questioning eyes now alight with suspicion, "A dangerous allure, isn't it, Headmaster?"
His jaw tightened. It was Shacklebolt who stood, "And you, Van Doren, you would exploit that hope? Offer yourselves as… saviors to a world that knows nothing of the dangers of magic?"
A murmur rippled through the Wizengamot as others leaned forward, Suddenly, those eager "Ayes" they were ready to throw my way faltered.
"Their world already has danger, Shacklebolt," I said, my voice sharper than intended. The arrogance.
"The Shadow Angels for all their faults have shown the muggles the part of Wizarding Society that can help that can heal, We need to cling to that to show them that we weren't a secret society hiding in the shadows manipulating their minds."
The crystal ball, reflecting those Shadow Angel clips, shimmered once more - Jackson pulling that young woman from the wreckage, his mask both a promise and a threat.
"They love the idea of heroes," I said. "Think about it: a world where sudden miracles become reality, a power that answers your deepest prayers." My gaze went back to those with opposing views and even some that looked lost in the face of the truth . "Their fear? They want to talk now. Negotiate. Before their anxieties escalate." A dangerous proposition dangling between us. "I understand that need," I said. The air felt charged, everyone hanging onto each breath. I paused, building the tension. I need a united front with all of them at my back. I needed to remind them.
"After all," I said, my voice dropping to a quiet murmur, letting my power, my influence, sink in, "I am… Muggle-born myself."
It was almost comical the way heads whipped around to stare at Dumbledore. I allowed a sliver of a smirk, my eyes lingering on Potter, a flickering resentment still smoldering within him. You think you're a hero, Potter? I let that question linger unspoken between us. You're a pawn. Always were. Always will be.
With that done I knew my message had reached those that I wanted. With the last move, "minister with all due respect the hopes of our society rely with my negotiating skills now, they know of wizards existence but they do not know where we are, our locations are secure just our existence that has been brought to light, I know several of the world leaders, they respond well to me."
"I will make sure that our transition from the shadows into the light shall be a peaceful one.", I finished.
"Those in favor of having Mr. Van Doren be our representative for talks with muggle governments to handle this unprecedented crisis, say Aye!" Amelia's voice rang with a hint of triumph, a gamble on her side that was about to pay off, just like our pact that night years ago. The "ayes" reverberated through the chamber, the power of gold, secrets, and fear trumping those with weak minds. Those who clung to outdated laws were drowned out as the old world cracked apart. I almost allowed myself to smile.
"And those opposed, Nay!" she continued. It was hardly even a murmur, a ripple in the torrent.
I descended the balcony stairs, my path deliberately casual as those loyal to Dumbledore and his ways practically fell over themselves trying to avoid contact with their saviour.
"Vincent." Amelia greeted me near the exit, her usually steely gaze now touched by a hint of gratitude and apprehension, an acknowledgement of our shared knowledge, we are on the edge of changing wizarding history.
"Good Luck" she murmured.
I offered her a smile. " I always deliver."
We both knew: I wasn't cleaning up a mess this time.
I was avoiding a war, with the muggles of course but I'm sure from the looks I was getting from the members of the order that a war between us would start.
(Hermione POV - Grimmauld Place)
The air in the living room crackled with frustrated energy. We'd barely managed to disapparate away from the aftermath at the Ministry when Dumbledore called for an emergency Order meeting.
My thoughts drifted, despite every attempt to remain present.
Vincent's composure that day… unsettling. As if the news of our carefully guarded world was global front-page material had been… expected. The cool amusement in those blue eyes when Amelia wished him luck, "Good luck…".
I hadn't spoken to Vincent, really spoken, since well 2002, only icy encounters at the Ministry after I joined back in '03. A curt nod in passing, my eyes avoiding that dangerous gaze. It felt like a betrayal, those years ago… every time I looked at him, I felt the guilt… It was my darkest secret, one I'd locked away, the hardest choice I'd ever made, the decision to give awa…
I stopped the thought before it fully formed, burying it beneath those more immediate fears about the future of their world. No. There was no space for such memories right now, not with everything at stake.
"It's just… gone!" Harry slammed his fist on the table. His anger, raw and visceral, wasn't just resentment now; it was tinged with a raw grief I understood too well, "Our whole world – exposed just like that! And it's HIM! It's all his fault!"
"Harry," Dumbledore's voice held a steely calm, twinkling eyes now overshadowed with something that might have been… regret?
His gaze shifted then, taking each of us, drawing us into his circle as he'd done a million times, but the usual air of benevolent command felt… fractured.
"There cannot be coexistence," he said, those quiet words now edged with something close to Vincent's certainty, "without one dominating the other, in this case that one can't be him, it has to be us" He glanced at those present, his eyes finding Kingsley, then me, then resting for a long moment on Sirius. "Van Doren's intentions are clear," he continued. "He intends to make the Muggle world his to command. And for that, he's willing to use anything at his disposal… Fear. Magic. Hope."
"So how do we stop him?" The question spilled out of me before Kingsley could speak.
"It won't be easy, Hermione," Dumbledore said, his expression now weary. "Van Doren isn't simply influential, he controls a powerful network – the Ministry, his… "business dealings"… and even certain…" He trailed off, but those meaningful looks towards Kingsley and Sirius spoke volumes.
"For now we will have to wait, there's no reversing this, The statute is broken, we now most focus on stopping Vincent from being the one dealing all the calls", Dumbledore said.
As he finished I just kept thinking to myself, when had things become so more complicated?