This is Politics
Last time...
“You are kind of an arsehole.” Hera concurred, surprising the being into looking at her with incredulity. “What? Either I get to say that and live, or you can smite me and become someone else’s problem.”
Chapter 7
Chuck had laughed for what felt like ages. Meanwhile, Hera internally scolded herself for constantly poking at someone who could literally smite her out of existence. She still didn’t know how to feel about what he was, or all the implications that might mean for things. How much of what the Dursleys shouted at her about God was even true? She could ask that, knew he’d give an answer even if it wasn’t as plainly as she would normally prefer, but found herself asking an entirely different question instead.
“So…How much do you know about birds?” The laughter slowed down till it stopped entirely, and Chuck looked at her with curiosity, so Hera continued. “It’s just…Madam Pomfrey is kinda worried about me? She said my bones are dense but hollow, which I still don’t understand, and that my lungs have additional air sacs. Considering she didn’t mention anything about that when I first got there, I’d say it’s more of a recent development.”
“Ah, I was wondering how long it would take for that to start happening.” Chuck admitted, which had Hera looking at him bug eyed as she internally – maybe not so internally – freaked out about the whole thing. “I could probably explain?”
“You think?!”
“I was going to give you eight, but that seems a bit unwieldy.” Chuck rambled with an enthusiastic nod. “Six is a good number.”
“For what?!”
“Don’t worry. I promise you’ll like them…once you stop freaking out, that is. Explaining now might be a bad idea. I should just stop talking.” Chuck rambled, before snapping his fingers like he’d remembered something, and began digging through his coat pocket; tossing her a cloth wrapped parcel a moment later. “Here, you’ll need these.”
“What are they?” Hera wondered, staring at it. “Godly lock picks?”
“Something like that.” Chuck replied with an amused snort. “You’ll certainly need them if you agree to try talking to him. Not all the seals on his cage are physical things, but enough are. You’d need to break sixty six of them in total.”
“I haven’t actually agreed to help you, you know.” Hera felt the need to point out.
“That’s true. I’d do it myself, but that’s a bad idea all around. As he is, he won’t listen to me, and I know I’ll get all ‘righteously’ angry when he starts lashing out.” Chuck relented. “We need a mediator. You’re good at that.”
“…Ugh. Fine. I’ll give it a go.” Hera groaned, before looking back at him. “No promises, and you can’t get all mad about it if it doesn’t work. Agreed?”
Chuck nodded. “I understand.”
“Now, what-”
…
Hera jolted awake, only to groan and fall back onto Fenrir. He and Jör had abandoned the fire long ago to join her once more in her ridiculously large bean bag bed. It felt nice to wake up surrounded by comfort and safety. Granted, that safety was two legendary beings that would absolutely slaughter legions should they attempt to cause harm to her sleeping form, but it was safety nonetheless. She let herself think over this latest dream conversation, wondering at the best path to take, and tried to relax enough to fall back asleep.
Salazar had thought a lot about what he was planning to do. He’d known it needed to happen sooner or later, but he’d thought Hera would have made the first steps on her own. She hadn’t, and had more than likely haven forgotten the conversation. It needed to be dealt with, spoken in order to be made real. With that in mind, he headed to her office, surprised to find her in there already grading papers.
“You look distracted.” Salazar noted by way of greeting. “Are the essays really that bad?”
“Nah, my lil ducklings are smart. They aren’t half bad, but a lot of them are better at physical application than verbal explanation. Here.” Hera explained, gesturing to a stack of parchment. “See for yourself.”
He sat down on a nearby beanbag, always surprised that it didn’t devour him or make things cumbersome, and got to reading. She was right. They weren’t bad, and didn’t need much in the way of correction. Occasionally he added a small note of better vocabulary that would fit more closely to what was being written on, but that was it. For a while, all he did was grade scrolls of essays with her in companionable silence. When he finished the last of the pile he’d taken, he looked over to see Hera was done as well.
“I’m not the only one with a lot on their mind.” She noted, observing him. “What’s got you?”
“You told me about that conversation you and Dumbledore had, and it got me to thinking.” Salazar admitted. “Have you ever read the Tales of Beedle the Bard?”
Hera tilted her head, thinking it over. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“The Deathly Hallows are mentioned in one of the tales; The Tale of the Three Brothers.” Salazar explained. “It is believed that the three Peverell brothers were those the tale speaks of; to one of whom, you are a descendent.”
“What’s this got to do with why you’re out of sorts?” Hera wondered in confusion, but he shook his head.
“I’m getting to that.” He assured her, before drawing the symbol facing her, allowing it to glow in the way she had taught him. “A ring. A cloak. A wand. These are the Deathly Hallows, and you, Hera Potter, have all three.”
She froze, and he had a suspicion she was remembering something else Dumbledore had said in that conversation. “But…They’re just normal…I mean they are magical items, of course, but…Surely not?”
“That invisibility cloak of yours, how old do you think it is? Family heirloom, isn’t it?” He inquired, switching tact, hoping it would lead her to the conclusion he’d already reached. She nodded. “Hera, invisibility cloaks – even the good ones – don’t last more than a generation or two; and that’s being kind. The magic in them tends to start unravelling after just a couple of decades. The ring? Have you fiddled with it yet? Seen something? Someone, perhaps?”
She was stalk still now, looking at him with wide eyes. “My parents, but…something was wrong. They shook their heads no, like I wasn’t supposed to…I turned it till they disappeared again.”
“The wand is steeped in blood and death. It’s allegiance is to whoever wins it from its previous master.” He stated, watching her. “Even if you handed that wand back to Dumbledore right now on a silver platter, it wouldn’t accept him.”
“But…I just disarmed him.” She objected, quietly. “There wasn’t a duel or anything.”
“There doesn’t need to be.” He shrugged. “The first time it changed hands, all it took was the slitting of a throat, if the story is to be believed, but there’ve been plenty of times over the years where the wand’s loyalty was won without the death of its previous wielder. You’re not the first to have done so.”
“But I-”
“Hera.” He cut her off, giving her a pointed look. “Avoiding death was something I was obsessed with when I was Riddle, and to be honest I still am. This was one of the ways I heavily researched. I know what I’m talking about.”
“But it could just be a pipe dream!” Hera objected, in exasperation. “Muggles were obsessed in their search for El Dorado for ages, but that doesn’t make it real!”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as he realized once again there were aspects to their world that Hera was not aware of.
“Hera…El Dorado is real.” He stated gently. She looked at him with confusion and disbelief. “It’s an ancient wizarding community. Stories made it to the muggles before the Statute, and were ingrained enough that even that wasn’t enough to rid them of the stories. Atlantis is real too, before you ask. Weren’t you surprised when you realized the Philosopher’s Stone was real? I know that one made it to the muggle side of things.”
“Are there any other revelations you would like to give?” She asked, faintly, reeling from the information.
“Uh…The Library of Alexandria wasn’t destroyed?” He grimaced as he said this, leaning back a little. He relaxed when all she did was look at him gobsmacked. “…Do you want to know the how, the who, or the where?”
“Everything!” She insisted with a strangled hiss. “Are you insane? Don’t answer that. It’s The Library of Alexandria! Of course, I want to know everything.”
“Around 145 BC, there was a purging of intellectuals from Alexandria, during the reign of Ptolemy VIII Physcon. The head librarian at the time, Aristarchus of Samothrace, saw the warning signs for what they were and headed to Cyprus to seek out help from the wizarding community there.” Salazar explained. “They agreed. By the time that Julius Caesar was getting around to his civil war in 48 BC, accidentally burning a good bit of the library, all knowledge within had already been taken from it. No one noticed due to the non-magical copies that had been left in place. A new library had to be built, of course, but all it’s knowledge was saved. It’s actually under water, in the Mediterranean Sea, between Alexandria and Cyprus.”
“Do you know how to get in?” She asked, intrigued, as she leaned forward a little.
“Not currently.” He admitted, and she slumped back in defeat. “I imagine they’ve had to change their security quite a bit since my last attempt to break in. Severus might know. I remember tasking him with finding a way in before the ill conceived idea to end the life of a small toddler.”
“You tried to…It’s the Library of Alexandria. Of course, you tried to break in.” Hera muttered under her breath. “Snape might know?” He nodded. “We are definitely coming back to that later.”
“As for the Deathly Hallows?” He inquired, hoping at least now she was considering them as something a bit more than merely magical items.
“To seek and gather the Deathly Hallows means to wish to be the Master of Death, if Dumbledore is correct, but…I didn’t seek them, didn’t know them till you said as much, and even now I…I don’t know what that means.” Hera admitted, looking hesitant and uncertain.
“For you? Probably something completely different than and yet exactly just what the legend says, given that you didn’t actively go looking for them.” Salazar chuckled in spite of himself, more bemused than anything else. “You don’t even want the power that so willingly seeks you out.”
“Did I tell you Chuck wants me to break Lucifer out of his cage with a set of God-blessed lock picks?” She wondered.
He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly; he’d been made aware of who ‘Chuck’ was, and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it, nor the fact that Hera was being so…Actually, that part he could believe all too well.
“No, Hera, you did not.” He sighed in a tired sort of way, opening his eyes once more. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“Because that’s more of a side project?” Hera shrugged. “I’m more concerned with the ICW anyway. They feel more like a now problem. Chuck can wait. I hear he’s supposed to be patient, and all that jazz.”
“Do you mind if I come along with you to meet with the ICW?” Salazar wondered, deciding to deal with the other subject later. “I want to get a better feel for the political climate now, and that seems like a good way to do it.”
“Sure.” She agreed readily, before launching into her next question. “How do you feel about moving to another planet at some point, and do you know how to break into Atlantis?”
She’d tried to get her friends to stay behind, really she did. They just…chose not to listen to her well thought out suggestion. She’d never had dealings with the ICW before, and didn’t know what would happen. They’d taken that as the reason they needed to go with, and after a few more failed attempts at trying to talk them out of it, she gave in. After all, she’d agreed that Salazar could go; though she’d hoped that would butter him up into not freaking out about the ‘whole new planet’ thing.
Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore had decided to follow along too, but they made sense. Albus was literally part of the proceedings, being the Supreme Mugwump and all. Severus – and she still couldn’t make herself call him by his first name out loud, especially not with what had happened that first day of teaching – was there because he was the most paranoid bastard on the face of the planet, and as such didn’t trust the International Confederation of Wizards to have their security up to his standards; though with Fen and Jör at their backs, she doubted they’d have too much trouble. She was not expecting Sirius and Remus to surprise her when she got there. Instantly forgetting about the formal setting, or the many people around them, Hera instantly rushed towards them with glee.
“Sirius! Remus!” She called out happily, giving each of them a hug as soon as she got to them. “What are you doing here?”
“I wrote them.” Salazar mumbled sheepishly, and Hera whirled around to face him.
“Betrayal!” She hissed, but was giggling right after, which relaxed him. Turning back to the two, she continued. “You two really don’t have to be here. It’s going to be boring, and who knows how long they’ll want to talk, and-”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Prongslet.” Sirius stated, pinning her with a look. Remus was, of course, no help when she looked to him too. “He’s with me on this one.”
She caved then, seeing that they would not be moved. “It’s good to have you here. Both of you.”
“Shall I see if we can get things started?” Albus offered, already moving to step away. Hera nodded, hoping her eyes showed how grateful she was. “It’s a bit like herding cats, but it should give you more time to prepare.”
She saw what Albus meant about it being like ‘herding cats’ the moment they were allowed to step into the large room that was the inner chambers. Whatever she’d been expecting before was quickly thrown out. This was madness. People were arguing over each other and throwing things, even as paper aeroplanes sailed through the air like passing notes. Their arrival wasn’t noticed for a good few minutes, so Hera had plenty of time to absorb all the chaos that surrounded them.
“This is madness.” She marvelled, under her breath.
“This is politics.” Sirius replied, matching her tone.*
“I thought it was supposed to be stuffy boardrooms and hear ye hear ye’s.” She inquired, looking over at him now. “Why don’t you want to get into politics if this is what it’s like? This is fantastic!”
“It’s insane, is what it is.” Hermione huffed, looking at the lot of them. “How does anything get done?”
“It’s not like muggle politicians act this way, and they still don’t get anything done.” Hera shrugged, to which Hermione nodded in acquiescence.
“I stay out of politics, because it’s only the ICW that’s like this.” Sirius admitted with a sigh of regret. “By the time they get here, they’re already so frustrated with having to be so overly bureaucratic that they can’t stand themselves. This lets them vent steam, which looks like fun, but the frustration to get here was just never worth it to me.”
“It’s really only in closed chambers that we can let loose like this.” Albus agreed as he too watched the proceedings, amusement clear in his eyes. “Anything the public sees looks like those bureaucratic meetings you spoke of. Closely guarded secret, you understand.”
“So everyone knows?” Hera offered with a sly grin.
“Naturally.” He agreed, before swiftly jumping into the fray with a well placed jelly leg jinx on a far off ambassador.
“Do we…jump in?” Ron wondered, having been quietly watching the proceedings as well.
“Don’t worry. They’ll calm down in a bit.” Luna assured them with a dreamy smile. “Though Hera may need to do something drastic to get that started.”
“How drastic?” Hera asked, interest peaked. “Glitter or itching powder?”
“Maybe something a little less likely to hit us all?” Draco suggested. “I don’t mind glitter, but itching powder…”
“Alright, I think I have an idea.” Hera declared, right before a chorus of flatulence filled the air. Rather flummoxed, several of them stopped fighting long enough to check their seats, only to find whoopee cushions. “Now that I have your attention, shall we get started?”
“You!” Someone shouted, shooting up out of their seat to point at her in indignation. “You just lost me money! I bet 5 galleons on actual flatulence!”
“That’s what you get for not including me in the betting pool.” Hera shrugged, unapologetic. “Who won?”
“No one did.” Albus admitted, with a sheepish grin. “I had quite forgotten to factor in muggle prank items.”
“Something to think about for the future.” She allowed with a regal nod, before breaking out into a grin. “So…”
With a calming sigh, things continued on in a more serious manner.
“The ICW deals with things that can affect the world.” Albus began. “This means that-”
“You’re on thin ice as it is!” One of the delegates shouted angrily, glaring at her, unapologetic when Albus turned to look at him with frustration. “No! She needs to learn, Dumbledore! She keeps skirting around the Statute like it’s a joke! It’s insulting!”
“How long do you think that bubble’s gonna hold?” She wondered, unknowingly echoing her brother in that moment. “Muggle technology advances by the day, and with the Mutants now making bigger waves as they fight for the right to exist, it is only a matter of time before we are also discovered.”
“That doesn’t mean you should go instigating things!” Another delegate snapped, this time an elderly woman.
“So pretend there isn’t a problem until we’re smacked in the face with it?” Hera countered. “Hide our heads in the sand until we’re locked in cages and dissected? Until we’re told to submit or be eliminated?”
“All the more reason to stay hidden!” One voiced, followed by a chorus of agreements all around.
“Remaining in hiding is not sustainable!” Hera shouted back, angrily, cutting their cheers down. Softening her voice, she continued. “Even if Tony and I weren’t siblings, and I weren’t someone the muggles noticed, their technology is becoming so prevalent that it is everywhere. I’m talking instant communication across the globe, surveillance that rivals our own, and that’s just a start. There will come a time when we can no longer hide. When that day comes, we will want to control the narrative of how they see us.”
“So you’ve been doing what?” A delegate nearer to her spoke clearly, his timbre voice sounding intrigued.
“I am a Jötunn by magic. That’s what happens when I turn blue. Muggles see that and think Mutant. While I understand and accept that not every Mutant will agree with the decision, I do have the backing of at least two of the leading factions in the US to do this. Tony is working towards the bettering the rights of Mutants and those of special abilities, in the hopes that when we are discovered, we’ll already be protected from organizations like Shield; at least legally.” Hera informed them. “Granted, there are some that won’t care about the legality of their actions, so we’d still need to be careful, but that’s a given.”
“You’re not human?” Another scoffed, clearly looking down on her. “Why are we even listening to you?”
“Because, in case you’ve forgotten, Rutherford, she’s the newly awakened goddess of magic.” Snapped another.
“Account actually, though I will accept being called a god if you insist.” Hera corrected, and everyone looked at her in confusion. “Power doesn’t have a gender. Why should the title?”
“Because you do?”
“So?” Hera snorted. “Hatshepsut ruled as Pharaoh in her time, instead of being only known as ‘The Great Royal Wife’ or whatever. If she could rule as king, I can call myself whatever I like. Also, your stance on non-human magicals is atrocious, but I suppose that’s a goal for the future; to fix that.”
“While we should be concerned about the Statute of Secrecy, maintaining muggle relations is a goal we can agree on.” Albus stated, trying to bring things back to order. “To that end, how do all of you think we should address this?”
“As a newly awakened god of magic, you’ll need all the guidance we can give.” A man looking far older than even Albus declared. “Your powers are great, but you are young and in need of discipline. All that is required of you is to adhere to our rules, and do as we ask.”
“No.”
The man blinked in confusion, unaccustomed to hearing such a word spoken to him, and tried again. “No?”
“No.” Hera confirmed. “You’ve done nothing to endear yourselves to me. Why would I listen to a word you have to say? Because you’re older and have more experience?”
A few actually nodded at this.
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to do what you say simply because you’re the adult, and you view me as a child. You’re not authority figures I know or respect. From what I’ve seen, most tend to mistake respect for obedience anyway, which is a fallacy. Regardless, being older doesn’t automatically grant you that respect or obedience either.” Hera scoffed, rolling her eyes. The closest delegate looked like he was about to object, but she just glared at him until he shut his mouth again. “If it makes you feel any better, I was already inclined not to respect you, simply because your invitation smacked more of a summons or a demand rather than a request to meet and discuss things.”
“We’re the International Confederation of Wizards.” A far off delegate stated, like the woman had thought she’d forgotten. “We do not send requests.”
“Those with power are to serve those without it.” Hera reminded the woman. “The fact that you think you are above that is another reason for me not to respect you. Regardless, I did not come in here thinking to disparage your age or experience, as you have done to me. I saw your actions, or more accurately the lack thereof, and saw little to respect.”
“Excuse me?!” Many objected, but the sentiment was the same. Even Albus looked a little affronted, though more confused than anything else.
“How long have you been in power? How long have things been just as they are now? Why has it been so long, and yet nothing has gotten any better?” Hera asked, looking to them all as the room quieted down. “I don’t know what it’s like for most countries, but I know things aren’t great for my own. Werewolf rights are abysmal, and nothing is being done to help them. Goblins are treated like second class citizens, even though they control our banks. Centaurs lose more territory every year. I know that the Veela in France have to fight to be considered little more than beasts for wizards to fuck, and if they’re half human or more the sexual harassment is expected because wizards claim the allure made them do it. Hags are regulated to the dark corners of the world, only sought out for their help as a last resort, and not trusted when that help is offered at all. If we’re just talking humans, muggleborn are treated with distrust and disdain, not realizing that they’re stomping all over culture and tradition, because those classes have been taken away, while everyone else is expected to sit through an outdated muggle studies class. Children who live in abusive situations are expected to return there in the summer, so less and less end up seeking help.”
Everyone was silent now.
“You want me to respect you, to listen to your guidance or follow your orders, but I don’t see why I should.” Hera continued, looking around at them all. “You fear me, fear the power I hold and what I could do with it, but that’s only because you’ve been in your positions, some of you, for decades, and yet nothing’s gotten any better. Why is that?”
AN: Quote from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End.
I had to do a bit of research about the Library of Alexandria for all the details I provided, fudging them just a bit for the story, of course. Also had to make sure what the Pharaoh 's wife was called, for Hatshepsut's mention in the story; because she was a total badass Pharaoh in her own right and deserves all the recognition.