Chapter 9
Chapter 9
It was August the 22nd and Harry, Dobby, and Winky were having their own order meeting.
They were going over all the knowledge they had accumulated after the past two months of hard work. First, the house elves rehashed what they learned through their spying and their gossiping with other elves about non privileged information. By now, Harry knew about more deaths and attacks than could be read about in the Prophet.
His friends were extremely good at ferreting out secrets and reading meaning in the things other elves didn't tell them.
He could only hope no one else would think of asking their house elves questions -or to spy- though he also knew the wily creatures would find a way around orders they found distasteful.
The ministry's and order's actions remained lacklustre, and the public's response was a widespread, crippling panic. Frankly, the British magical world was a ripe apple ready to fall into Voldies lap at the slightest touch.
Harry frowned. He didn't understand why Tom was taking so long. A few more assassinations, a few more people placed in strategic places, and the ministry was in his hands. It wasn't like he was receiving much pushback.
He sucked in a startled breath. "I think Tommy boy is taking his time because his attacks are not just a way to cripple the ministry and destroy any opposition, it's also about simply whetting his followers' bloodlust. If he takes over the Ministry officially, he'll have to reign his followers in. It wouldn't look legitimate otherwise."
Narrative was important in insurgencies, he'd learned through his readings. For now, the world was looking at magical Britain as if they were simply having a civil war. It's not as if the dark side -or Muggle borns or squibs or magical creatures- didn't have legitimate grievances. It's not as if the current regime was any less oppressive than Voldemort's promised to be. And yet, other countries didn't care.
But if the government was found to be torturing and murdering its citizens, the IWC would have to take action. If Tom wanted to remain in power once he gained it, he would have to clean up his act and make sure the death eaters did the same.
Dobby scrutinized him. "Is a good thing?" He asked hesitantly.
Harry worried his bottom lip. "Narrative and allies are important during insurgencies. Whether it's a civil war, uprising, resistance against invaders, the right narrative will provide you with allies and those allies will help you win, simplistically speaking."
Resources, intelligence, logistics, tactics. They won battles. To win the war, you needed the right story. Both to rally your own people and to gain support from outsiders.
"According to the dark side, they are protesting the erosion of British magical culture and the pandering to muggleborns -leading to the discrimination towards certain magical creatures (like werewolves), the abolishment of certain traditions (like religious rituals), and making certain types of magic illegal (like blood magic). Worthy causes."
Not that he had known any of that. The elves had had to explain it to him, and he frankly agreed with the dark side on this. Until now, he'd simply found their methods extremely distasteful. And of course, Voldemort wouldn't let him live.
"Their narrative is good, provided that you don't care about their discrimination against Muggles, Muggle-borns, Half-bloods, squibs, and certain magical creatures. This changes things, though. Instead of fighting for a just cause, they are revelling in the ability to torture and kill to their heart's content. Their narrative becomes a flimsy excuse to cover up the real reason the blood war started: being able to commit atrocities. Whether it's true or not doesn't matter, their whole movement will be painted with that brush. Tom is obviously letting his followers have their fun before he wins the war and needs to keep those atrocities in check, presumably by having secret parties where they can do what they want to kidnapped muggles and mudbloods."
"Revels," Dobby whispered.
Harry closed his eyes. He felt sick at the mere idea. It obviously wasn't something new if it had a name and both elves knew about it. The tears in Winky's eyes told him she knew about those kind of parties as well.
He blew out a long, ragged breath. "Their bloodlust undermines their narrative. In the long run, Tom won't be able to keep it under wraps. His more extreme followers will want to be able to have Revels openly, like during the war. It's part of their reason for participating. And either Tom caves to it or there will be unrest leading to the revelation of what really happens behind closed doors. They will lose their allies and the resistance will strengthen. In the long run, the dark side will lose."
Their side could use this to strengthen their own movement during the war, though they would have to be subtle or they would look like conspiracy theorists. Agreeing with grievances from both sides, but disavowing the brutality of the dark side's methods, seemed like the best way going forward. Maybe the Quibbler could be used for that.
So, good news, yes. From a certain point of view.
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They took a long break after that revelation. None of them felt up for discussing any more difficult topics. Dobby knitted socks, and Harry and Winky worked on Indian recipes from a cookbook she had found for him.
Apparently, his grandmother Euphemia was from India and if he'd grown up with his parents, he probably would have been raised on Indian food as well. He'd been very surprised to learn that piece of information given his pasty white skin tone, but then his mother had been very pale as well. Either way, it was great to learn more about his family and he loved that Winky was willing to experiment with him in the kitchen. There had been some great successes.
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When they returned to their meeting, they all had their comfort beverages close to hand. Harry took in the scent of Jasmine tea and smiled softly. He'd drunk it for the first time in this cottage and he would forever associate it with love, family, and unconditional support.
"So, what has Harry Potter learned this summer?" Dobby asked. "Besides knitting?" He added mischievously.
Harry sniffed and refused to take that bait. It had turned out that knitting was indeed very relaxing. He was up to leg warmers now, after the requisite tea cosies and bookmarks. Those wonky creations were actually being used by his friends.
Their kindness took his breath away sometimes.
"What I learned was just introductory level stuff, alright? But it helps give context and a direction to work in." Harry scruffed a hand through his hair and contemplated how to summarise his limited study of military history. "I've read up on several revolutions, insurgencies, and the resistance movement during world war two and that taught me that small teams executing a mission, before disappearing, worked best," he said.
The English army had failed utterly during the American Revolution because the Americans were on home ground and could easily blend back into the population after an attack, while the English painted a big, red, unmoving target on themselves.
The IRA had at their height about 500 fighters and people working in the background and won against a government that could put 50,000 men in the field, because they were small, mobile and indistinguishable from the rest of the Irish people. The simultaneous assassinations helped, too.
The resistance movement during world war two taught him that decentralised cells that worked independently towards their common goal (sabotage, intelligence gathering, and rescuing people) couldn't be used against each other and made the movement much more difficult to eradicate. One cell's failure didn't necessarily touch another's succes.
"It seems all very self-evident, actually. In hindsight. Doesn't it?" He asked after his exposition. "It's obvious, though, that Tom is working along those principles. And as the American, and Irish revolutions bore out: we will have to counter him using the same tactics."
Harry sat back in his chair and fiddled with his tea cup. He didn't know how useful this knowledge all was. He took a sip of his Jasmine tea and remembered he was not alone. He was actually the least useful person in this room. It lightened the weight on his shoulders. "Unfortunately, Muggle military tactics and operations are vastly different from what we would encounter in the magical world. Targeting supply lines or communication is useless here. Destroying crops, stealing supplies, sabotaging railroads and bridges, that works in the Muggle would. Here, I don't know what we could even do." He felt fear claw at his throat and breathed through it. He couldn't give in.
Winky and Dobby looked at each other. "Wards would let animals like birds and cats through. Imperio on cat, time-delayed spell on pebble, let cat bring it to fields or greenhouse. Poof, crops, potion ingredients, all lost," Dobby said.
"Theyse only have one potion master. Take him out and no more creative potions, less quality healing potions. Theyse will lose time making potions or money buying potions. And wese can wait outside apothecary," Winky added.
Harry looked at them with wide eyes. Relief coursed through his veins and he sagged in his seat. Here was a blatant example of how inside knowledge could make or break operations.
Their two off the cuff ideas were brilliant already, however... "The imperius curse is illegal."
"Not on animals or creatures."
Harry swallowed. "Creatures as in Dverger or house elves?"
He clenched his jaw and balled his fists at their somber silence.
"This government deserves to topple."
He spoke the words into being that had been rattling around inside his head for years now. He had been chafing at the slow pace his lack of education and skills had forced on them. He was kind of glad for it now.
Harry closed his eyes and kept breathing.
This government deserved to fall. But that came with a price. One paid in blood.
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