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The Boy from M.A.C.U.S.A.
16. The Savage Wars of Peace

16. The Savage Wars of Peace

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"Pick up the wizard's burden, and reap his just reward,

The hate of those you help, and the scorn of those you guard."

- Slytherin Washroom Graffiti

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Jack was introspective as they trooped across the viaduct, the awe-inspiring panorama going half-noticed. Even the threat of detention felt muffled, as if he was hearing things distantly underwater.

“What did you mean about Montfort?” he asked Henry. “His bite worse than his bark?”

"It’s like this,” Henry explained, pausing in the middle of the bridge near one of the benched alcoves, “Ludd will dock points and blast you for minor infractions. Montfort smiles to your face while plotting to get you expelled. He’s probably writing a letter to the Ministry about MACUSA influence at Hogwarts as we speak."

"You're joking," Jack said.

"Wish I was.” Henry shook his head.

Below them, the lake reflected the Scottish autumn: purple heather, leaves slowly turning gold, clouds skating across water so still it might have been glass. Usually such views stopped him in his tracks. Today he barely noticed.

"Don't let him get to you," Henry advised, catching Jack's expression. "Montfort's a gadfly. This is just how he moves and shakes things."

“He sounds like an equitist,” Jack turned the word over in his mouth, then spat into the gorge. “Pinko.” 1

“Maybe in the States,” Henry said warningly, “Here it’s serious business. The war changed things. When Grindelwald fell, he left a vacuum. People started asking questions about the ways we always did things.”

"Questions like why do the old families own all the land and gold? Why can’t goblins hold Ministry positions?" Oliver listed. “How do we prevent another Grindelwald?”

"Exactly. We have questions, they have answers. Promises to remake magical society, end blood prejudice, and share wealth." Henry explained. "Sounds good on parchment."

"They're just wizard commies," Jack protested as they started up the stairs towards the Great Hall. "Back home, we know how to deal with Reds-"

"It's not that simple, Semmes.” Henry cut him off. “This isn't your Wizarding Wild West. You can’t just blow people away with wands in the middle of the bloody street.”

“That’s just on the W.A.N.D. radio show,” Jack complained, “In reality, hardly anyone got killed-”

“What’s that one?” Teddy interrupted, “Can we get that on our common room wireless?”

“‘Wizarding America: News and Drama’,” Jack replied proudly, “We’ll have to check, it’s on 17.76 FM, might be hard across the ocean-”

“Both of you shut up,” Henry continued over them. “Listen Semmes. The war - wars - nearly broke us. Our Muggles just nationalized half the economy because everything was failing. We lost over a quarter of our magical population. The Ministry's in flux. The Post-War Enclosure Act is wreaking havoc on wizarding farmers.2 Refugees are pouring in from all over the Empire. Old families lost everything in the war while new money rose up. Britain is a vast brewer’s vat, bubbling with ideas foul and fair."

"And Montfort?" Jack asked. “Where does he fit?”

"Chameleonic," Henry explained. "He's old money, but styles himself as an Avant-garde. Hosts salons in Ravenclaw Tower, quotes obscure magical philosophers, acts like he's leading a grand movement for change..."

"I don't think he's a dilettante. He really believes what he's saying," Jack said slowly, feeling an icy finger gently trace his spine. "The way he talked about MACUSA, about me...he thinks I’m a threat."

"Possibly," Henry considered, "What he is - is really clever. Quiet when he needs to be. Charismatic when he wants to be. People listen to him, especially the lower years.”

“Just fantastic,” Jack muttered. "So what's his problem with me?"

Oliver and Henry exchanged uncertain looks.

"Look here Semmes.” Henry spoke deliberately. “There has been a lot of talk, ever since the end of the war, about how MACUSA is using the Muggle Soviet threat to…influence Magical Britain. Montfort and others have been spreading that around, passing out pamphlets and books from Knockturn Alley publishers.3 When you showed up on our doorstep-"

"I became living proof of his warnings."

"Yes," Henry sighed. "Most people aren't as intense about it as he is. But we have the Ministry considering American loans, there are joint US/UK auror deployments in Western Europe, MACUSA agents in Britain-"

"And now an American student at Hogwarts," Oliver finished.

Jack thought of his father's careful letters, the vague references to his new position. Had he known what his son was walking into?

"So what do I do?"

"Keep your head down," Henry advised.

“Keep my head down!?” Jack exploded. “From the guys who goaded me into jumping off of a bridge and buzzing Ravenclaw Tower? That’s rich!”

“That first one was on me,” Henry admitted soothingly. "And I covered for you didn’t I? That's in the past now, old sport. Don't let Montfort bait you into anything else. He'd love nothing more than to prove you're some provocateur and get you expelled. Or worse, arrested."

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They entered the reception hall. Jack looked gloomily at the corner where he had spent his last ten official minutes at Hogwarts before being sorted. The simple revenge on Montfort he’d been imagining now seemed childish compared to the neck-deep rapids he’d just stumbled into.

"Ta da!" Teddy scoffed, opening the doors to the Great Hall for them, "Thus the Ravenclaws host their silly weekly get-togethers, spouting about reform and the dangers of Washington.”

"While their fathers’ money funds their refreshments," Oliver added dryly.

"Exactly. Don't waste time worrying about what Montfort thinks of America or MACUSA or anything else. He'll find a new cause by Christmas," Henry said. "Probably house-elf liberation or something equally silly."

The worst part was, Jack thought, he couldn't entirely blame the Brits for thinking this. After what Grindelwald had done, who wouldn't want a better world? The question was what "better" really meant…and who got to decide. Aye, there's the rub, as Henry would say.

They entered the Great Hall, where the lunch crowd was already gathering. The rich smell of Sunday roast filled the air, roast beef with all the trimmings, perfectly crisp potatoes, and fresh horseradish sauce. The enchanted ceiling reflected the autumn sky outside, scattered clouds drifting lazily overhead. Jack caught sight of Montfort, back from Quidditch practice and holding court at the Ravenclaw table gesturing passionately to an attentive audience. Cassandra sat nearby, seemingly absorbed in a book.

“Can you fault us for wanting closer ties?” Henry said as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. “The French are shattered, the Germans are gone, the Russians are behaving oddly-

"Hang on," Jack interrupted, "What's going on with the Russians? We haven't heard anything from them since the peace conference at the end of the war."

"That's exactly the point," Henry said, helping himself to roast beef and horseradish. "Eastern Europe got it the worst from Grindelwald. Whole communities were murdered by his radicals. Then the Russians rallied and pushed them back, meeting us in the Alps where we finished them. Two years ago, the Russians were right there with us fighting Grindelwald. Now? Complete silence from Moscow. The Ministry can't get straight answers from anyone east of the Netherlands."

Oliver nodded gravely, passing the horseradish. "My uncle said the Department of Foreign Affairs hasn't received a single owl from their Russian counterparts since January. Used to be weekly communications. The Mail-Floo Network doesn’t work anymore either."

"So what?" Teddy asked through a mouthful of potatoes. "Maybe their owls got lost."

"All of them?" Henry raised an eyebrow. "And what about the delegation that was supposed to visit the Ministry last month? Canceled without explanation. Or Durmstrang suddenly not reopening like they said they were going to?"

"The whole Eastern European wizarding world too," Oliver added. "Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, they all fought alongside us against Grindelwald. Now it’s like they don’t even have Ministries anymore."

Jack leaned forward, lowering his voice. "But why? What changed?"

"That's what's got everyone worried," Henry said. "Nobody knows." He glanced around before continuing. "Remember how the Easterners were pushing for complete integration with Muggle governments during the peace talks in Milan?"

"Yeah, but nobody took that seriously and they got outvoted," Jack said. "I mean, the Statute of Secrecy prohibits that explicitly."

"That is exactly what they started calling 'an outdated tool’ right before they went silent," Oliver cut in. "They blame the Statue for Grindelwald’s rise. Their head ambassador even took out a full page advertisement in the Prophet railing about 'permanent revolution' and 'the inevitable union of magical and non-magical peoples.'"

Teddy looked bewildered, "The what of the what now?"

"It means they want to tear down the walls between our world and theirs," Henry explained patiently.

“That’s exactly what Grindelwald wanted!” Teddy spouted. The other three shushed him.

“Not like that,” Oliver said, “Not dominate Muggles, but cooperate with them, equitably. That’s why they call themselves equitists.”

“And we all know who’d be leading such an equal organization.” Henry scoffed.

“All wizards are equal,” Jack quoted. “But some wizards are more equal than others.”4 Then he snapped his fingers with realization.

“What is it?” Henry asked.

"This is all too familiar," Jack said, frowning. "Something's not right about this. All this language they're using...I've read it before, but not just from wizards."

Henry looked at him sideways. "What do you mean?"

"In No-Maj Studies back home, we covered communistic vs capitalistic rhetoric. There's this whole..." Jack trailed off, trying to find the right words. "It's not just what they're saying, it's how they're saying it. The exact same patterns."

"But magical governments don't align with Muggle ones," Oliver pointed out.

"We stay separate," Henry finished. "It's fundamental."

"So why are they suddenly speaking like Muggles?" Jack tried to keep his voice casual, though his heart was beating faster. "Why use their exact phrasing? Their modified ideology?"

"Maybe they just like how it sounds?" Teddy gestured with a fork full of potatoes. “Trying to keep their people happy.”

"No," Henry said slowly, "Jack's right. It's too precise. Deliberate.”

They let that hang in the air for a moment.

"You know what's really strange?" Jack said, keeping his voice light. "Back home, there's all this worry about equitist sympathizers in MACUSA. Congressional investigations going on. It’s..." He paused, choosing his next words carefully.

"It’s?" Henry prompted.

Jack shrugged. "Just funny timing, that's all."

“Funny timing,” Oliver shook his head. “A third of wizarding Europe is gone. No contact, no word, nothing. Like a black pit.”

Henry hit the table with his fist, “Then better to have our friend the Yank than whatever is lurking out there in the dark.”

The four boys shuddered, in spite of the warmth of the hall.

"But that's exactly Montfort's point, isn't it?" Teddy pressed, helping himself to carrots. "We're turning to America because we're afraid. He'd say that makes us weak, dependent."

"Better dependent than dead," Oliver muttered. "My cousin was in Rotterdam when Grindelwald's men came through.”

Jack noticed how the conversations around them had quieted slightly, other students listening while pretending not to.

His classmates were worried.

Worried during Sunday lunch, safe inside the quadruple-cloistered walls of Hogwarts, within this enchanted valley, in this little England, bound in with the triumphant sea, like the moat around a castle against the envy of less happy lands.

Worried about what was out there in the dark.

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1. Pinko: another Americanism borrowed from their Muggles, referring to someone with suspiciously socialist sympathies.

2. The Post-War Enclosure Act of 1946 was a desperate attempt by the Ministry of Magic to recover from the total devastation of the Great Wizarding War. The Act nationalized vast swathes of magical land to pay off war debts, forcing countless wizarding families to give up their ancestral holdings. It turned struggling families into outright paupers and handed more power to old pure-blood families who could afford the buyouts.

Hogwarts was barely able to keep its doors open, Gringotts only lent at outrageous interest, and traditional industries like broom and wand making collapsed. The economy was in shambles - businesses bankrupted, manufactories closed for want of workers, alchemical supplies depleted, and magical infrastructure in ruins. Only a 300-million Galleon loan from MACUSA in April 1948 saved the Ministry from total insolvency.

Much of the worst of this was going on far above our young peoples' blissfully ignorant heads.

3. Knockturn Alley, London, long infamous for its darker magical dealings, evolved into a peculiar hub for fringe ideologies during the early-20th century. Some dubious publications from the period, such as Truthteller, Red Spark, and (my personal favorite title) Manifestopheles, found circulation here.

4. "All wizards are equal, but some wizards are more equal than others." A modified quote from the popular 1945 book Animal Farm by English author and Great Wizarding War veteran Georgius Wellor, attempting to warn his fellows against the dangers of totalitarianism in a post-war world. As Wellor was in desperate need of money, he optioned the manuscript to a Muggle book publisher under a pseudonym.