The Ministry was in chaos, Aurors and Ministry employees running around aimlessly in a panic without firm leadership nearby to keep them on track. Three people were dead, two Aurors and one secretary guarding the apparition platform to and from Azkaban.
The two prisoners had escaped from Azkaban one after another, a woman and a man. Everything had all been too quick for anyone to be able to firmly identify who it was who had escaped in that time.
The normal Ministry workers had already fled to safety minutes ago, leaving only the confused mass of Aurors milling about the room and eyeing the apparition platform warily in case anyone else appeared. A few Aurors were using their spells to levitate the bodies of the dead and floating them away.
“WHAT IN THE BLAZES IS GOING ON HERE!” A voice roared from the doorway and every Auror in the room stiffened instinctively and the chaos stopped as everyone froze.
Several people turned to Mad eye Moody who was limping into the room with his heavy wooden staff clicking on the floor. He was heavily scarred and had one enchanted wooden prosthetic leg. His body was heavily scarred and the empty socket where his left eye used to be was replaced with an enchanted eye to replace it. The eye could see through all illusions and moved independently to whirl about and stare at various Aurors nearby seemingly with a mind of its own.
Moody was one of the most experienced Aurors and dark wizard catchers in Britain, each of his scars representing a death eater or dark wizard that he had personally caught or killed in battle. He had only returned out of retirement in the last few months to assist with tracking down Pettigrew who was still at large with the Ministry no closer to tracking him down than before.
So, when Moody spoke, everyone stopped and listened.
Moody’s eyes stopped on the three floating dead bodies and his body stiffened.
“WELL WHAT ARE YOU STANDING AROUND FOR!” Moody roared, “Eyes back on the platform! You useless louts, running around like you have a right to panic right now! Now somebody tell me what happened here before I start banging heads together!”
A dozen voices babbled out of the crowd all at once and Moody growled which silenced them.
“Shut up, all of you.” Moody pointed at a younger rookie Auror in the crowd, “You, Denby. You tell me.”
“Moody, sir- The platform. Two prisoners apparated in. First one, a woman, killed the three there with the killing curse before apparating away again. Next one, a man, appeared a minute later and apparated away as soon as he could. Both of their clothes were rather ripped and they were out of breath. I think they were running or must have fought their way out of Azkaban.”
“Any idea of who they were?”
“No, Sir. They were only here for a few moments and no one seems to be able to tell from what I’ve heard.”
“Alright, Denby,” Moody allowed, “You go on and find Amelia Bones. Alert her and the rest of the Ministry there’s been an escape without any more panicked idiots running around and muddling the story more.”
Denby stood there for a moment before Moody slammed his staff on the floor with a loud clunk.
“Did I STUTTER, DENBY! GET A MOVE ON!”
“Y-Yes sir!” Denby stammered before scurrying off to follow his orders.
Moody shook his head and moved up to the apparition platform to Azkaban. These green and soft Aurors would be chewed out and spat out if they were around during the last wizarding war. It was like they’d never even seen a few dead bodies before…
“Anyone’s gone through to Azkaban yet?” Moody asked.
“That’s just it, sir,” a nearby Auror said, “We were waiting to go for a while, but just five minutes ago… we can’t go through, sir. The platform on the other side must be destroyed.”
“Destroyed?!” Moody said, suddenly becoming much more concerned, “Are you certain?”
He stepped on the platform as the crowd of spineless cowards watched on. They had cowered and waited for somebody to come and tell them what to do instead of taking any initiative of their own…
Moody tried to feel the other platform experimentally for the apparition. Nothing, the man was telling the truth. Either somebody on the other side had control of the wards or had destroyed the platform.
But why would somebody destroy the platform? Hm. Ah, but what if…
“A full prison break?” Moody said to himself, “The guards destroyed the platform to trap all the prisoners in that place? But what about the Dementors? They would sooner kill everyone on the island then let anyone and their souls escape their foul clutches… I didn’t think the guards there would be that dedicated to preventing any escapes…”
He stood at the edge of the platform before taking a step back. Even if the prisoners controlled the island and had somehow made a deal with the Dementors, then things were still manageable. It should take them a few days at least to drop the anti-apparition wards covering the whole island and letting them scatter to the winds. The Ministry should have that much time to gather its forces and mount a counter assault to retake the prison. He’d have to alert Dumbledore and ask if the man would be willing to assis-
There was a red flash in the center of the platform and the crowd of Aurors all raised their wands and jumped. Moody reflexively cast a protego shield charm with his staff and tensed. One of the rookies cast a curse at the small black disc shaped object that appeared in the center of the platform.
The disc, a hockey puck like object glowed red and a pair of eyes appeared in an illusion above the disk. It showed a strip perhaps a handswidth tall of the man’s face from the bridge of the nose, the eyes, and parts of his temples. But it only showed that tiny portion of the man’s face, not showing the full or head as the illusion floated there.
The rookie's curse sailed directly through the illusion and into the floor behind it. The pair of eyes and projected strip of the man’s face twisted around and looked at the divot in the floor. Moody saw where the image was hollow and flat from behind, looking like an inside party mask now that Moody was no longer seeing it from its more realistic front.
“That was rather rude,” a cultured english voice sounded out from the disc before the eyes turned back around to scan the crowd with raised wands, “Is this how you greet strangers? I mean you and your people no harm. This is simply a communication’s device. I am here to negotiate with your minister.”
Moody stepped forward and stared down the strange illusion with a glare. The eyes swiveled to him as he stepped out of the crowd.
“And who are you to demand something like that? What’s your relationship to the two escaped prisoners who’ve killed three government employees just now?”
The pair of eyes looked surprised and peered at Moody closely for a moment.
“Ah, I see,” the illusion said, “I apologize for your loss. It seems that in the chaos some of the prisoners escaped. I will happily pay their blood price alongside the other compensation. But this is best discussed with your leader directly. He likely would not wish his whole department to know the specifics of any deal.”
“Blood price?” Moody growled, offended, “What is your connection to what’s happening on Azkaban? Refusal to answer is the same as treason, whoever you are!”
“Treason?” The man said, sounding amused, “But I am not your citizen. I do not answer to you or your government. I assure you that besides the two that appeared to have escaped, none of the people here have been harmed. Well permanently, anyways. All the remaining prisoners remain in their cells. I wish to negotiate their release back to your custody along with their guards with all haste.”
Moody paused at that, and his blood cooled slightly. Perhaps all wasn’t as it seemed? He should bring this up the chain. The situation sounded stable on the other side.
Moody walked up and cast a levitation charm on the hologram and lifted it slightly off the ground.
“You’re not seein’ the minister anytime soon,” Moody said, “We’re checkin’ this thing for traps or curses first. Then he might talk to you. In the meantime, how about you tell me what happened?”
“I don’t think I will,” the voice said, “I will wait until your Minister is ready to speak with me. Simply tap twice on the top of the device when you are ready. And please do not break this thing during your tests. I only have so many of them to waste.”
The illusion flickered out and the puck stopped glowing and turned black again. Moody kept floating the thing with his staff and started walking to the closest interrogation room. Several Aurors went to follow him or otherwise leave their posts as Moody left.
“Stop!” Moody snapped and the Aurors stopped, “You lazy sods keep guarding that platform with your lives. Who knows if this man is telling the truth? If I come back and a single one of you is slacking off then you’ll be cleaning the ministry toilets without magic for a week.”
Everyone stiffened and returned to their stations quickly. Moody nodded in satisfaction. They knew that it wasn’t an idle threat, Moody had already been forced to give that punishment out ten times already when one of these idiots did something particularly stupid in these last few months.
Moody left and proceeded to one of the interrogation rooms and put the puck on top of the table. He walked out the door and left the device behind. His part was over. Time for the enchanters to do their thing and then the Minister and Amelia Bones could deal with whatever this person wanted.
Moody was sure it wasn’t something simple given the situation. He’d never even seen a device like the one this man was using. Looked right useful, though. Much better than sending a Patronus even. Perhaps he could prod some of the boys in the ministry's magical research department to rustle up something similar for Moody to test out…
— — —
It had been two hours, and Amelia Bones and Minister Fudge stood in the observation room alongside Mad Eye Moody. Moody wasn’t sure exactly why he was here, but Fudge had said he was ‘first on the scene’ so Fudge wanted his opinion. More like he wanted an additional bodyguard, Moody figured.
The observation window into the interrogation room was charmed to the max and had been rendered clear from both sides rather than the one way window that it usually was. Sound could always be transmitted both ways for the interrogations. The communication device wasn’t trapped as far as the enchanters could tell. Not that they understood the thing very well at all, but as far as they could tell it should be harmless.
An Auror opened the door to the interrogation room slightly and levitated a paperweight into the room and over to where the device remained untouched since Moody had placed it there two hours ago. The sweating Auror bobbed his wand up and down and the paperweight pressed on the top of the device twice firmly.
The Auror quickly flicked his wand and sent the paperweight to slam onto the table before retreating and slamming the door behind him as quickly as he could. It seems that the rumors of the mysterious person behind what happened at Azkaban were already running wild. Not that this person wasn’t clearly dangerous, but Moody didn’t think they warranted quite that amount of fear just yet.
The puck started glowing red and stayed that way for a few seconds. Then the illusion appeared and the eyes and strips of the face appeared. They were facing towards the back wall of the room, but after a moment’s confusion they swiveled around and located the clear window where Amelia Bones, Moody, and Minister Fudge stood. No one else was in the room or observing. Fudge had taken things seriously when the person suggested privacy for their dealings.
The pair of eyes looked the three of them over thoughtfully before ending on Moody.
“Are these your leaders then? Are you three able to negotiate for your government?”
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“Amelia Bones, head of the Auror’s office,”
“Alastor Moody, Senior Auror,”
“And I am the Minister, Minister Fudge,” the man finished, “I’ve heard you would only speak with me regarding the situation in Azkaban. Well, we are here. Whatever is going on over there?”
There was a pause as the speaker stared at Fudge for a long moment and assessed him.
“I am known as Balthazar. May I speak candidly?” The man said suddenly.
Fudge nodded, “Of course, of course. It’s just the three of us. Who are you, and what do you want?”
“Very well. I want Azkaban,” The man said to their shock, “I’m willing to pay a price for it. In gold bars. Many gold bars. I think it’s a deal that your government will be more than happy with.”
Alastor watched Fudge lick his lips at the thought, his eyes shining with greed. This person was clearly a powerful wizard or enchanter of some kind. Who knew who he was working for?
“And the prisoners and guards?” Amelia asked, “What will be done with them?”
“The guards are unconscious at the moment. I can send them back to your receiving platform as soon as we come to some sort of deal. With their memories of the last week erased of course. I’m sure you understand, I don’t want me or my people’s identities exposed unnecessarily.”
“Of course, of course…” Fudge said quickly while Alastor absorbed that little tidbit of information. This person was the leader of some sort of group. Perhaps a proxy group sent by one of the foreign nations? For some deep plans they had against Britain?
“And the prisoners?” Amelia prodded.
“They will take a few days,” Balthazar said, “I have been informed that you currently have no other prisons to accept them, correct?”
“Not in the kinds of numbers held at Azkaban,” Moody grumbled.
“Yes, a problem in and of itself…” Balthazar said disapprovingly as his eyes stared at Moody. The eyes left Moody and returned to Fudge.
“Regardless, I will be placing a curse on all of the current prisoners in this place. They will remain in a coma for a full year where their bodily functions will be sustained by the curse itself. After that time they will wake up healthy again in whatever new prison cells you construct for them. With a full year, I’m sure you can think up a solution for them. After I’m done placing the curses I will transport them back to your ministry much the same as the guards for you to deal with yourselves.”
Fudge glanced at Amelia and Moody. Amelia nodded. Moody hesitated, but then nodded as well. The terms were reasonable enough for finding a new prison to place all the prisoners in. The Americans had secure magical prisons in the middle of New York City. Britain could build something secure in a year if motivated enough to do so.
“Very well,” Fudge said, “That sounds acceptable. Now to Azkaban. It has served as Britain’s most secure and only prison for over three hundred years now. Not a single prisoner has ever escaped from there ever since it started being used. While we can construct a new prison, I highly doubt it would be so secure. That’s quite a valuable resource we’re giving up here. A prison that has no escapes is quite a different animal to ones that only have only a few. In the public perception if nothing else.”
“Indeed. Is the name Ecraz familiar to any of you?”
Fudge looked at the two of them confused by the non-sequitur. Bones frowned and shrugged and looked equally confused. Moody grunted, “The creator of Azkaban? The dark wizard that created the Dementors hundreds of years ago?”
“Yes, him. Anything else that you know about him? Sightings, perhaps?”
The eyes focused on Moody and he barked out a laugh.
“That old wizard’s dead, hundreds of years ago. The wards around the island degraded after his death and revealed that island that he created. He was already dead for hundreds of years by the time the island was discovered five hundred years ago. That’s when the ships stopped disappearing in that area, when he was drawing them in and torturing the crew to create his Dementors. It was confirmed by the spell analysis of some of the leftover bodies that they’d all died hundreds of years before anyone else ever landed there. How would there be sightings in the modern day?”
“And why did you believe that the wards were degraded?” Balthazar asked blandly.
“Well, I’m no expert. That’s what they determined at the time. Why else would the wards around the island suddenly drop?”
“Perhaps Ecraz was still alive and wanted to draw in more people for his experiments and to create more Dementors. Like a prison perhaps? How many Dementors do you estimate live on this island?”
“I don’t know,” Moody said with a frown, “Less than two hundred, more than fifty. They’re not exactly the most pleasant creatures to speak with.”
“I observed no less than a thousand of them that only I personally saw as my forces seized the island. You have been feeding the Dementors, letting them slowly grow in strength as they feed on your nation’s prisoners. If my people hadn’t arrived then they would have emerged and swarmed the mainland when they were fully prepared, plunging your nation and this planet into an age of shadow and despair as they spread to consume the world’s joy in their ravenous hunger.”
“You’re lying!” Fudge shouted despite palling as Balthazar went on, “You’re simply making up stories!”
Balthazar stared down Fudge calmly, “Perhaps. Does it matter? Do you want to give creatures like Dementors the means to more power even if I’m wrong? Perhaps using Azkaban as a prison was a foolish idea from the start, and I’m doing you a favor in taking it from your hands.”
Fudge settled down at that and nodded firmly, “Ah, I see. A scare tactic. Very well, I’m open to a deal to sell Azkaban to you provisionally given you give us all the prisoners and guards back unharmed and under the terms you gave before. Now, how about we move into some specifics on the price that you’d be willing to pay…”
“Ah, apologies Minister,” Balthazar interrupted, “I’m sure our spirited negotiation will take some time, so I’d like to clear the matter of the blood price first for the three dead of your people. I’d wish to plug this wound before it festers. I’m unsure of your exact customs on it. It was my negligence in allowing the prisoners to escape under my watch that led to those people’s deaths, but I had no malice or intent for harm. So in this case I would usually like to give two full measures of gold to the families and another full measure to the organization that they lived under. That is for each victim of course. If you send me their weights then I will send it right along and trust you to allocate it properly to the families.”
“What is one full measure of gold? Weights?” Fudge asked in confusion, “What is this about a blood price?”
“Oh, do you not have this custom? Fascinating. When one is responsible for a death even in only a smallest fraction, one must make amends before hatred festers through the generations. I am extra careful and make sure to always make sure there is no need for animosity even in cases like this where the innocent deaths were my partial responsibility.”
“That- That is very honorable,” Fudge said, surprised.
Moody frowned, “Where did you say you were from again?” He asked.
“I didn’t,” Balthazar replied before moving onwards as if he hadn’t heard the question, “As for a measure, ever heard the term ‘worth its weight in gold’? A full measure is the full weight of the victim in gold.”
“H- H- How much gold?” Fudge asked in disbelief, “Isn’t that… in the… tens of millions of British pounds? If you’re saying that each of the three gets three full measures, one for the Ministry and two for the families…”
“Oh, is it that surprising?” Balthazar asked blandly, “I do try to be on the rather generous side. But I have met a few that went up to five full measures per victim if they are particularly paranoid about retaliation by a family. Most only do a small fraction of a full measure, obviously. Not everyone has quite the same levels of wealth as me and my people have.”
“No…” Fudge said faintly, “I suppose not. That sounds… more than acceptable. I’m sure the families will be overjoyed. That’s almost a thousand pounds of gold. If you’re going so far for the blood price as you call it, then what’s your evaluation for the price for Azkaban?”
Balthazar’s eyes glazed over for a moment as he thought, “Hm. You give me a number. Don’t be shy. We can negotiate from there.”
Fudge started sweating and wringing his hands, his face growing red as he appeared to heat up from his brain shooting into overdrive. No doubt calculating how much he could ask for without offending this obscenely rich, powerful, mysterious person.
He licked his lips and opened his mouth and closed it, looking hesitant. But then he spoke. “Three hundred million British Pounds. Thirteen thousand pounds of gold roughly.”
Balthazar’s hologram nodded amiably, “Very well. I’ll make it an even fifteen thousand pounds of gold so there will be no further negotiation or attempts to bargain upwards from here. Do you accept?”
Fudge hesitated, “I do,” He said, “Azkaban is yours, I’ll make sure of it. I have people I must convince first to do it, but I will try to have it done as soon as possible. Approved in less than a week if all goes well. Will you be coming here personally to sign the deal?”
“Very well. When the paperwork goes through I will begin delivering the gold,” Balthazar said, “When the prisoners are ready, we can begin that transfer immediately. We would like to maintain our privacy. Call us a private mercenary company if you need to convince others of our purpose here. Simply use this communicator to contact me again if you wish to speak more on these matters. Is there anything else you wish to discuss at this moment?”
Fudge looked to his sides. “Amelia? Alastor?”
Both of them shook their heads.
“I think that will be all, Balthazar,” Fudge said, “A pleasure doing business with you.”
“And you as well,” Balthazar said in an upbeat tone, “I’m happy the negotiations went so swiftly. Until next time.”
The communicator flashed and the illusion winked out and the puck turned from red to black again. Balthazar had left.
Fudge collapsed into a chair behind him. “That amount of money,” He muttered, “He just said yes without even a second thought. Fifteen thousand pounds of gold like it was nothing. For Azkaban. Most people try to pay to not go to that miserable place.”
Amelia gave Fudge a sharp look and the Minister snapped out of his musing, “Theoretically, of course. We all know that some people take bribes even if they aren’t supposed to. Not everyone’s as honest as me.”
Moody snorted and Fudge looked annoyed as Moody looked down at him in disdain.
“Before you get too excited, I’d tell you one thing,” Moody said, “Whatever you do, don’t you dare let you or anyone else skim a single galleon off the top of that blood price no matter how tempting it is to the grubby little hands the seem to be everywhere in the Ministry these days. Did you hear how serious that Balthazar was when he was talking about it? He might be… personally offended if he discovers all the money didn’t go to the right places.”
Fudge paled and furiously nodded, his anger at Moody forgotten, “Quite right. Right… Despite his wealth, we have no idea about this person or how stable they are. Better to not take any risks. In fact, I think I know the perfect person for the job. Alistor! You’re put in charge of security for the gold for this transaction, both for Azkaban and especially the blood price. Make sure that not a single flake of gold gets skimmed off the top as you put it. If any of our transactions have to be above the board, then this is the one that has to be it. I sense that there’s future profits and deals to be made with this Balthazar. I don’t want to ruin his first impressions of the Ministry and Britain as a whole! Ah, Alistor you’ll be working under Amelia of course. You’ll both have my support for whatever measures you need for absolute security on this. Everything must be squeaky clean.”
“Yes, Minister.”
“Yes, Minister,” Moody said after Bones. Despite himself he was surprised by Fudge as the man began to spring into action enthusiastically. It seems that Fudge might really not be attempting to siphon some of this fortune off to enrich himself. Now that everything was framed as making things presentable and providing a good image of the Ministry to this mysterious Balthazar, Fudge was eager to implement policies that Alistor knew that Amelia had pushed for unsuccessfully for for years.
Now, Fudge agreed to them all easily so long as the gold coming in soon would be properly protected as a result.
“Alright!” Fudge said and clapped his hands together, “This will be the culminating achievement of my time as Minister, I'll be the one that pushed this historic deal through. And ended the horribly inhumane practices that went on in Azkaban as well of course. Compassion in one hand and prosperity in the other.”
Fudge stood there, smiling as he stared into nothing and likely daydreaming about all the praise and recognition he’d receive if he pulled this off. For once, Moody wasn’t bothered by Fudge’s image obsessed mind. This time, it was geared towards a good cause.
“Minister?” Bones prodded lightly and Fudge shook his head and refocused.
“Ah, I’ll have to pull so many favors for this. Get approval by the Wizengamot. Think about what to tell the public, the old families, all of it… No time, no time. So many letters to write… Ah, Moody?”
“Yes, Minister?”
“Talk to Dumbledore, would you? I’m sure he’ll want to hear about this deal first hand from you. I’m sure you can convince him that it’s a good idea to go through with it. He has a lot of influence with the Wizengamot and he won’t listen to me like he would for you.”
Moody shifted uncomfortably for a moment, before nodding. He was planning to talk with Dumbledore about this either way, “I’ll talk with him, Minister. No promises if I’ll convince him to support it though.”
“Excellent. You two write a report of what you’ll need for the security of the gold and incoming prisoners in their comas. Get it to me by tomorrow and we can get the ball rolling.”
Without another word, Fudge rushed out of the room. Presumably about to write a storm of letters to pull favors and start pulling all the strings of his influence to make the deal go through.
“Don’t think I’ve seen Fudge run that fast in years,” Amelia joked as she and Moody stood alone in the interrogation room.
“Well, If I’m good at anything then it’s security,” Moody growled, “We’ve got a lot of work to do if we want to keep the gold safe from any sticky fingers.”
“And that the prisoners are safe too,” Amelia added.
“I suppose.”
“Well then, let’s get to work. That gold isn’t going to secure itself.”
— — —
Balthazar leaned back from his communication device and smiled to himself. Teregatt had so much gold. There were ten whole floors of the main tower dedicated solely to storing the piles of gold in various forms that their old master had collected as they traveled from reality to reality and picking up things on the way.
He would have paid ten times the amount that Minister Fudge had offered. Because while Balthazar and Teregatt were on this land, they hadn’t truly claimed it. The one with the best claim had been Ecraz and Balthazar had defeated him. So he and Teregatt had a partial claim over Azkaban. But the British magical government had a strong claim on this land too. When the deal went through, and the Ministry acknowledged that this land was Balthazar and Teregatt’s land and no one else's…
Then the magic would accept their claim to this land. And having a true claim to a land recognized by magic itself was something powerful, something worth far more than any amount of gold. It would let Balthazar place some truly strong wards and protections around this place in addition to the ones that Ecraz had placed.
In only a few years, after Balthazar had some time to properly prepare… this place would be unassailable. A perfect fortress to hold back any attack by Fate on them.
Yes, he was very happy with this deal.
Things were going well.