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Wrath of the Caesars by SoraSummers
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Wrath of the Caesars

SoraSummers

Politicians were impossible enough to deal with without attempting to discuss the impossible with them.

"Preposterous!"

That was Diedrich Bruta, a Scottish wizard who governed a few wizarding provinces in his homeland.

"We cannot give in to the demands of terrorists!"

Sally Hatchet concurred, speaking from the back of the room. She was a cabinet member in the former minister's regime, before he got sentenced to three months of Azkaban for allotting state funds to his own pockets.

All in all more than thirty political wizards and witches bickered and argued among themselves in the great hall of the Ministry's Law Department, none of them willing to give in to the demands of the 'mad men.'

Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Seamus were exasperated. Obligated to be present as the top aurors on the case, they'd laid out the demands Titus had provided Neville with two days earlier, and ever since had leaned back against the wall and listened to the arguments and conversations cementing the notion that the Caesars were right on at least one subject; the Ministry needed a change in leadership, and none in this room were worthy of the title Minister of Magic.

A compromise appeared an exercise in futility as well. None of the politicians were willing to give up their posts and allow 'inexperienced' heads of the Ministry's departments to govern the people. Their argument was that they had no political savvy and were experts in only their own field. The Ministry heads, however, pointed out that no one was being asked to leave their posts but rather modify how they were operated, to which the politicians chided and claimed no one outside of politics could understand how the system was run.

Harry was exasperated at everything; it was obvious to everyone in the room that no agreement would ever be reached. And on top of that, why should an agreement be met as it was? Why should they give in to the Caesars' demands? The threat of murdering one of Harry's friends apparently wasn't severe enough to force them into action.

It was then, in the middle of this explosion of conflicting ideals and arguments that a literal explosion suddenly rocked the conference room.

***

Shifting uncomfortably, Dean craned his neck for a better view of the pitch from the substitute's bench, the hard steel always a literal pain in the ass. It was late in the first half and they were already trailing Chelsea 3-0. The gaffer was furious and Dean figured he'd probably get some playing time as Carlton had been utter rubbish up top, unable to create anything for himself all game long.

The weather was warm and the crowd boisterous, but the atmosphere on West Ham's bench was palpable.

"Thomas!" Zola spat at him, as Carlton clumsily kicked a long ball out of bounds with a poor first touch. "Start warming up; you're going in at half for Cole."

Doing as he was told Dean hopped to his feet and began going through his paces, loosening his muscles up and gazing towards the visitors section where most of the group was supposed to be sitting.

To his disappointment, only Hermione was seated among the visiting supporters, apparently taking a break from the discovery she'd supposedly made back at the lab regarding the Caesars, and she waved warmly at him. He knew the rest were stuck in a meeting discussing the threat of the Caesars back at Ministry Headquarters, but was hoping they'd be able to come before the end of the game. Plus, Seamus apparently had some new girl he wanted everyone to meet, and since they had an extra ticket due to Luna's untimely death, she was going to come to the game if they could get away.

Before too long the whistle for half-time came and Dean headed into the locker room, giving Hermione a small wave on the way, ready to come out and do his best to make something happen in the second half, and mentally prepared himself for the tongue lashing Zola was sure to heap on them in the dressing room.

On the opposite side of the stadium, a distinguished-looking man kept his eyes on Dean until he disappeared into the tunnel.

***

"My name is Vespasian."

A dark cloud swirled above the conference room in the midst of the explosion, which Harry and the other aurors had quickly been relieved to realize was only a sound, and this cloud the only evidence of something being amiss.

Giggs barked orders from the second the explosion took place and Harry was now stationed alongside Neville by one of the two exits, keeping a keen eye for a flicking wrist or muttering lips, anything that would give away the perpetrator of whatever this plot may be.

In the cloud above them was the head of a hooded man, claiming to be this Vespasian, most certainly a Caesar. He'd never seen magic like it before, although it bore some resemblance to Voldemort's dark mark. But instead of a symbol, it was a projection, capable of speech.

"Obviously, if we wished it, you would all be dead."

The uproar and insanity following the apparitions appearance vanished, becoming an eerie silence as they all realized he was correct. If they could create an apparition in this conference room they certainly could have cast a powerful, destructive spell instead. How were they doing this?

"And that is exactly the fate awaiting all of you if you do not heed our simple demands. Disband your government. Adopt a temporary senate. You will know when the time is right for your new leader to be chosen. That is all. Should your senate not be in practice by the end of the week, we will destroy one of your Ministry Departments every other day until you have nothing left to govern. Good bye."

The cloud dissipated and the hooded man's form disappeared, leaving the room in chaos once again. There seemed to be two distinct groups; one who believed the Caesars could not possibly carry out their threats and one who knew they were capable of everything they claimed and more.

What nobody knew, however, was how they managed to infiltrate the Ministry and create an image with a message for them all to hear.

"Stupefy!"

Whipping his head around, Harry had just enough time to see a middle-aged man fall under the stunning spell, which Harry had recognized immediately as having come from Ron. Sprinting to the center of the room, Harry was astonished to see Ron already tracing the past few spells from the wizard's wand, the final incantation being the dark cloud that filled up the ceiling of the conference room. From there, by the time Harry had kneeled by his side, Ron was already rummaging through the man's robe pockets and pulled out a small device he'd never seen before.

Ron pulled his head up and looked across at the rest of them. "It's a mini-projector; a sophisticated muggle device. I'd assume it's a recording and everything we just watched was a tape. The cloud was just for effect and to give the projector something to display the image on; I saw him sliding it back into his pocket after the message ended and I wasn't taking any chances."

Everyone knowing his father was the wizarding world's authority on muggle society and technology, they took his words as absolute fact. Giggs and Shacklebolt nodded, and Harry cocked his head with a wry smile at his best friend of nearly fifteen years; the clumsy red-head from Hogwarts was dead and gone, Ron Weasley was a fantastic auror.

"Bind him and get him into interrogation; I want to know everything we can about him and how he got into this room."

***

"As the footballers trot out onto the field for the second half we are being informed of only one change from the sides that entered the dressing rooms at half time, and that is the young striker Dean Thomas on for the dreadfully useless Carlton Cole. Cole really showed nothing today did he Andy?"

"Not at all; as you said Derek a truly dreadful performance from West Ham's number one striker but now the up-and-comer is going to get a run out against some of the league's best; this of course will be the young man's first game since losing one of his closest friends in a terrible accident earlier this week."

"Yes, details are scarce but our thoughts and prayers are with the family of the unnamed young woman who lost her life so tragically in what has been reported to be an accident in a scientific laboratory."

As he stepped onto the field Dean brushed the touchline with his fingers before kissing them and pointing to the air in honor of his fallen friend. If he scored at all today, it would be for her.

Ten minutes past half-time however, he'd seen very little of the ball, Chelsea having the defense pinned back for much of the second half. Dean had so far spent his time mindlessly drifting back and forth between the final two defenders, cutting off passing lanes and tracking down the occasional long ball past midfield.

"And a relatively dire start to the second period for this young Hammers side, they really have been able to grab no momentum whatsoever, pinned on their back foot. It would seem Gianfranco Zola will need to make another substitution or two early on here, as Thomas has been largely invisible, unable to get any service of the ball."

"And even more trouble now for the Hammers as they must drop back to defend yet another Chelsea corner, the football fumbled over the line by Robert Green…he really should have held on to that one."

Tracking back, Dean came to the near corner of the penalty box, about a hands width of separation between him and Michael Ballack, his mark on the play. Suddenly the German captain sprinted towards the corner flag and Dean had to dash after him.

"And they're playing it short to Ballack with Thomas close on his heels."

Realizing that Lampard, the man taking the corner, had underestimated his speed, Dean accelerated towards the ball and cut in front of Ballack, shouldering him off the ball and intercepting the pass. His momentum was taking him straight towards Lampard however, and knowing the man's tendency for leaving his feet Dean swiftly tucked the ball back under his left leg by sweeping it with his right, avoiding the tackle altogether and opening up space down the sideline.

"And it's Thomas with the interception and an incredible display of individual skill to elude Lampard and the young striker breaks into space!"

Eyes scanning the pitch around him, Dean realized he was going to be on his own as the whole team had been pulled into the penalty area, he figured he had at most three men to beat before the keeper.

"Carvalho closes down on him and the youngster manages to shake the tackle and push it by the veteran defender! Oh this is truly a magnificent run from the young striker!"

Taking long strides and pushing the ball far out in front of him, Dean crossed the halfway line at a pace he knew none behind him could match. The central midfielder Alex had taken a bad angle and was going to be unable to close him down, which left only John Terry to beat down the center of the park. Closing in, praying that Luna would help him with this one, Dean pushed the ball towards the right flank with the outside of his right boot, before flapping his laces around the other side of the ball and pushing it back the opposite way. Terry bit hard on the initial maneuver and Dean was in on goal.

"It is a tremendous display of skill from the youngster! Oh my the elastico works to great effect he has only the keeper to beat…"

Having watched an hour or so of tape on Petr Cech, the Chelsea goalkeeper, the night before, Dean knew exactly how far he could get in before he committed and…boom just as he expected the keeper went to ground just as Dean pulled his leg back, allowing him to deftly chip the football over the keeper and watched it roll beautifully into the back of the net.

"Oh my! It's a mesmerizing strike from the young Dean Thomas! That could be the goal of the year in the Premiership! One cannot underscore how brilliant that goal was! What an effort by West Ham's rising star!"

Screaming like he never had before, Dean tore off towards the visitors section, pointing at Hermione in the stands, who was jumping, clapping, and screaming with the rest of the West Ham faithful. Dropping to his knees and sliding to the endline, he ripped off his jersey to reveal the undershirt below.

Luna Lovegood (1987-2009) Gone But Never Forgotten

And under the caption was a symbol that none in the stands sans Hermione would recognize, a shield depicting a single raven perched on a branch, the lettering Ravenclaw underneath; Luna's alma-mater at Hogwarts. He might get a sanction from the Ministry of Magic for that stunt but he didn't care, as he was mobbed by his teammates in the corner, he saw Hermione crying and smiling in the stands. That's why he loved this game, for at least one moment, he was able to honor his friend and bring a smile to faces that had known nothing but depression for a week.

Across the stands, the distinguished man, always having a keen eye trained on Dean in particular, smiled. The boy had no idea what the future would hold for him.

***

Mildly agitated but refusing to show it, Harry stood guard just outside the interrogation room while Kingsley, Kris Giggs, and Ron interrogated the captured wizard inside. He knew his demotion was going to be rough to take some times, but he never expected it to be like this.

He'd never been left out of something as important as this before. The other auror stationed outside the door was a bloody rookie less than two years out of Hogwarts who'd gotten an Average on his NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts test. The man who'd ended Lord Voldemort's life had been relegated to standing guard next to run-of-the-mill aurors. Infuriating.

The obviously inept guard jumped when a small beeping sound came from Harry's pocket. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled out the cell phone, checking his text messages. It was from Hermione.

Dean just scored!!! It was brilliant! Wish you were here I have so much to tell you about the autopsies!!! xoxo

Harry smiled; Way to go Thomas! Harry knew that goal would raise his stock quite a bit having been against one of the big clubs like Chelsea. He was snapped from his thoughts as the interrogation door swung open and both Giggs and Ron came tearing out of it.

Storming down the hall, Kris began yelling orders while Ron grabbed Harry by the robes and pulled him towards the exit.

"We have to get to Gringott's -- now!"