Prologue
May had been an absolute mess.
After the fall of the Dark Lord, his network had followed suit and with it, so did the magical British community. Everywhere, witches and wizards where fleeing, and those who didn’t quickly enough were being stopped by aurors.
Since the main editors of the Daily Prophet (and a huge bunch of other workers) were in Azkaban awaiting for trial, the unorganized newspaper had to shut down. The main and most trusted (even after the charges) source of news was out and distrust and chaos erupted. Rumours and misinformation were everywhere about who had worked with whom and if the aurors went questioning where and who had been there.
Once a suitable interim minister was finally found, twenty days after Pius Thicknesse was murdered in his sleep, things got marginally better. The new minister had issued the beginning of ‘The Official Ministry Reports’ (or ‘The Reports’ as everyone started calling them) all Ministry actions and decisions were published as to avoid gossip. Of course, the Reports were endless and hard to read, but it gave the Ministry a sense of transparency and dependability it hadn’t got in decades. The magical community relished in the Ministry doing things, even if most couldn’t decipher what those things were.
By the beginning of July, magical Britain had started to settle. It was common knowledge (which is to say, presumption) that the few Death Eaters not currently in Azkaban were abroad, being persecuted to the fullest stretch of magical law and soon to be caught. Many Snatcher rings had been dissolved and imprisoned too. Law retraction had started to take effect and muggle-borns had reluctantly started to involve themselves in magical affairs again. This, of course, led to a furious volunteering campaign for the restoration of Hogwarts, led by the now renown war heroes Minerva McGonagall and Hermione Granger.
The worse had passed and things had started to look up for the British wizarding community.
And then it happened.
The Interim Minister of Magic had called an open conference for the announcement of the oncoming elections. Things were going up, but as a cunning politician, he knew that in a critical stage like this, the first mistake after the war would be what the people remembered him for. A strategic temporal retreat from the scene would ensure another opportunity at a later time.
The attendance to the conference was huge. The Reports had stated that new requirements for the charge of Minister of Magic were being discussed and the final results would be announced along with the election’s information; people were eager to end the speculation about this.
And for those not in attendance, both the old and new magical journalism companies that had been launched into the main-stream after the fall of The Prophet had made sure the conference hall had to be magically enlarged two times that day.
The speculation had been thick in the air while Interim Minister of Magic Crumblebugg spoke his introductory speech. Right before everything went down.
One second the Minister had been talking of hopes of peace and prosperity for wizarding Europe, and then his voice couldn’t be heard anymore. The ceiling looked like a starry night, not much different from that of the Hogwarts enchanted ceiling. The polished floor started to morph back and forth into damp mud and grass, and every wizard and witch felt incapable of moving, speaking or even gasping at the sudden change of scenery. All just before her.
One voice (perhaps composed by thousands of voices) started a speech no one could escape from.
“This is Hecate and Trivia” the voice stated in soft but commanding murmur “This is the Goddess that gifts all of you.
The Gods have been neglected”
It was spoken as a universal truth, and at least just for that moment, every witch and wizard in the world had the absolute certainty that it was an inescapable true that would follow them forever.
“Your world is forever changed, because you will no longer be ignorant. To the Gods, to the history and to your gifter who is both Hecate and Trivia.”
Right then, there was a vision of a dark skinned woman in dark purple and sparkly robes levitating in right before them, with hair that mixed imperceptibly with the star-filled ceiling. The woman spoke with the same voice that sounded like every whisper in the world.
“I don’t claim your direction, and I don’t need for your obedience. I claim your knowledge of the Gods.
For us.”
And just like that, everything was gone.
The next day, the wizarding world was once again, a mess.
As the news-papers assured the witches and wizards of Britain, it seemed like The Vision had not only affected the wizarding British population, but the entire wizarding world. The Vision episode had been confirmed to have marked wizards in every corner of the world, in different languages at the same time. Many East-Asian wizards had thought it to be a strange dream, until the news broke out.
By midday, 27 witches and wizards had come forward in Great Britain alone announcing themselves as Hecate and Trivia. By five in the afternoon all of them and then some had been cleared due to lack of evidence.
A new sense of uncertainty had recaptured the wizarding community. Many had tried to dismantle the facts, looking for an explanation and the amount of power that such a feat surely had required. But nothing was realistic enough, there was no explanation that satisfied anyone.
Logically, at first everyone was so sure it must have been a wizard trying to establish reign over the magical world. But as weeks passed and there were no answers or any more global broadcast-spells, some started to question whether it could have been true.
Especially after the reveal that many magical creatures had also experienced The Vision.
Goblins were the first to talk about it, in their usual manner, belittling many wizards for their exasperation and ignorance of Lady Hecate. House elves murmured when allowed to about Lady Trivia and whether they’d be punished for insinuating offerings to her.
Meanwhile, Harry Potter seethed and brooded in the Burrow, which he had refused to leave after the Battle of Hogwarts.
So many people had died, so many innocents, so many children had died trying to stop a particularly gifted wizard who thought was entitled to rule the wizarding world and save it.
So many people died actively trying to prevent this. And now that work and sacrifice was just for nothing since many seemed so ready and eager to bend over the first demonstration of magical prowess.
He didn’t want to think about the sacrifices made in the last years. He didn’t want to think about Cedric Diggory, or Sirius, or Lavender Brown, or Dumbledore, Colin Creevey, his relationship with Ginny, Hermione’s parents, Fred, or Hogwarts.
It was kind of impossible though. When it looked like it had been for nothing.
Harry didn’t want another war. He was tired of fighting and dying.
But when Hecate was found, Harry certainly wouldn’t hesitate to fight back.