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Chapter 59: Politics and Blockade
🕑 Added 2025-02-18 22:00:04 +0000 UTC[-]-[P]-[W]-[M]-[-]
Reality: Potter Verse
Ministry Of Magic
Albus Dumbledore
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Dumbledore stepped gracefully out of the Floo Network, ignoring the quickly dying green flames as he arrived in the Ministry's atrium. He took a brief moment to dust off the sleeves of his deep blue robes before setting off down the long hallways, walking casually toward the elevators and pressing level 2 for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
On his way to Amelia Bones’ office, he exchanged polite nods and warm greetings with various Ministry workers who acknowledged him, ignoring those who glanced at him with subtle wariness. The aftermath of recent events, trials, and rumours still lingered, and it was clear that even the great Albus Dumbledore was not immune to scrutiny. Finally, after reaching Amelia’s office, Dumbledore raised a hand and gave three solid knocks.
“Enter,” Amelia’s no-nonsense reply echoed from inside.
Dumbledore opened the door and stepped inside, closing it door gently behind him. “Amelia,” he greeted in a warm yet measured voice and small smile, glancing at the documents spread across her table. “I hope I’m not intruding. May I take a seat?”
Amelia sighed tiredly as she looked up from her work, placing her quill down and rubbing her temple before gesturing toward the chair across from her desk. “By all means, Dumbledore,” she said dryly. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
As he nodded in thanks and took his seat, Amelia leaned back in her chair, wand in hand and already flicking through privacy Charms, ensuring their conversation would remain completely confidential. Once satisfied, she gave him a pointed look, with her lips twitching with sarcastic amusement.
“So,” she deadpanned. “Are you here to give me another headache? Because there is a limit on how many Pepperup potions a person can take before they start becoming detrimental to their health.”
Dumbledore chuckled lightly. “Actually, Amelia, I was hoping to lessen your headaches, if possible.”
She didn’t look convinced. With exaggerated enthusiasm, she mock-celebrated, raising her hands slightly in the air. “What a relief,” she said sarcastically. “You must have some truly wonderful news, then. Maybe something that will have people trusting the department a little more after Barty Crouch’s very public cockup with the now Lord Black’s sentencing a decade ago.”
Dumbledore merely smiled as he ignored her tone, steepling his fingers while leaning forward slightly. “I believe it would be wise for you to begin seriously pushing your bid for Minister of Magic.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow, intrigued but sceptical. “Oh?” she asked. “And is this meeting part of some grand strategy to curry favour with a potential new minister? There are a lot of people already in the running, many more wanting it to be you.”
Dumbledore lightly shook his head as his blue eyes started twinkling. “It is, in fact, a strategy — but not for the reason you suspect.” He paused before adding with a knowing smile, “Although… a bit of favour wouldn’t hurt, would it? We are talking of politics, after all.”
Amelia sighed and crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at the elderly professor. She had worked alongside Dumbledore long enough to know when he was dancing around a deeper issue. “Alright,” she said. “Stop playing around and tell me the real reason, you’ve already made sure to have people see you talking to me so even if I declined your help — people won’t believe me. Is it Riddle? I don’t see how people will be dumb enough to let him be minister.”
Dumbledore’s expression sobered slightly as he met her gaze. “It’s about the next — or I should really say, the current, most powerful wizard in Britain,” he said smoothly. Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before her expression shifted in realisation. Her lips parted slightly before she exhaled sharply, leaning forward on her desk.
“You’re talking about Lord Grey.”
Dumbledore inclined his head. Amelia shook her head. “Dumbledore, there’s nothing particularly wrong with a boy wanting to travel the world after graduating from Hogwarts, we’ve talked about this. It was you who made him off-limits for recruitment in the first place remember? It’s natural, especially given his new circumstances, Lordship n’ all.”
“I agree,” Dumbledore said easily. “But consider this — how does it look for Britain to have its most promising wizard in generations leave the country entirely?”
Amelia’s expression tightened slightly. “Especially, now,” she muttered. “When he’s connected to the new banking system.” She then glared at the Headmaster in front of her. “Everyone wanted to recruit him and you turned them away you old fool, and now you’re seeing the error of your ways and suggesting they do so.”
Dumbledore gave her a pointed nod, not really denying her words. “You can’t blame a man for making sure a child isn’t hounded by adults to do things they should really be asking other adults to do, my dear.”
The room fell into silence as Amelia considered his words, tapping her fingers lightly against the desk. The political ramifications of Grey leaving Britain entirely were now significantly greater than before, and they were already significant to begin with. The magical talent, his ability to cure Maledictus, and now Lordship and a Bank. He hasn't even fully grown yet. Amelia studied Dumbledore for a long moment, her sharp gaze analyzing every unspoken detail behind his words before she finally leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“All right, Albus,” she said dryly. “What exactly is your grand scheme, and how do you expect me to help — while also getting the kid’s endorsement? No doubt we’ll need it when Riddle starts making his moves, building up power in the dark where none of us can see until it's too late. Like he did the last time.”
“As I mentioned during our previous conversation, I intend for the Flamels to put in a good word for you, particularly while they are living with Lord Grey,” Dumbledore answered suggestively. “Their influence carries considerable weight. Dropping your name from time to time will be of no consequence.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
“In addition,” The Headmaster continued, “they will be trying to arrange for some sort of fundraiser or ball in celebration of the new bank’s creation. A grand event, something that will draw in Britain’s wealthiest and most influential individuals, Lords and Ladies — including those in favour of a new Minister. The evry individuals who may be seeing the incompetence of the current regime, so to speak.”
Amelia exhaled through her nose, tapping a finger against the desk. “I see no reason to refuse,” she admitted. “The sooner we get that incompetent fool of a Minister out of office — even if it’s not me taking his place — the better. Though, if I’m honest, a part of me still wants it to be someone else, being an Auror was always more straightforward.”
Dumbledore inclined his head, acknowledging her point.
Amelia continued. “The debacle with Sirius may have made quite a few people take a closer look at Fudge’s own incompetence, yes, but those are also the same people that will be against me, seeing that I come from the department that put Sirius in Azkaban.” She shook her head tiredly. “Then again, even if he wasn’t Minister during the arrest, his dismissive attitude about the whole situation has cost him. And I’ll be able to win them over simply by doing my job properly.”
Dumbledore chuckled lightly. “Precisely my thoughts — if phrased slightly differently. All you have to do is your job, and do it as well as you have all these years. The rest will fall into place.” He paused. “Well, almost everything. We may still need to worry about individuals with inclinations like Miss Skeeter — spreading misinformation or exaggerating stories in opposite direction, but we can deal with them easily enough.”
Amelia smirked before shaking her head. “Still, the competition will have the Malfoys' finances backing them. A ball won’t be enough to win outright. We need more funding.” She leaned forward, her expression contemplative. “What do you think John would ask for in exchange for covering the costs when necessary?”
Dumbledore didn’t hesitate. “The boy has good morals — that much I have confirmed personally. If the funding request aligns with his ethics, he’ll have no reason not to back it.” He gave her a knowing look. “And we’ve already floated the idea of him starting a school for those who don’t make it into Hogwarts, either due to not making the minimum requirement of magic in their body or a parent or carer declining the invite.”
Lady Bones hummed, giving the idea some thought before nodding. “It’s a good start,” she admitted, before narrowing her eyes. “I must remind you, Headmaster. Legilimense against a minor, or anyone, without permission, is illegal. And I hope that is not what you meant when you indicated”
“Of course, my dear,” Dumbledore held up his hands in a placating manner. “I did not attempt to delve into the boy's mind. Nor do I think I would have been able to even if I tried.”
The head of the DMLE nodded in acknowledgement and didn’t press any further on the matter. However, a thought struck her, and her lips curled slightly in amusement. “But… there’s always the chance that the Flamells will try to poach him for France. The Bank will be worldwide after all — there’d be no reason not to.”
Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle as he lightly shook his head. “Keeping John solely in Britain was always wishful thinking.” He smiled wistfully. “His obsession with magic and new things means he will always want to travel to wherever catches his fancy.” He met her gaze, his tone taking on an edge of certainty. “But… if we ensure he holds larger stakes in Britain, which he does to a certain degree, then at the very least, he will always have to consider it in his long-term plans. Right now Riddle's destruction is the biggest anchor”
“Sound Logic, I suppose.” Amelia nodded in agreement, placing her chin in between her thumb and index finger in thought. “I take it you don’t believe his friendships are enough then? He did heal a friend's sister of Maledictus, after all. I don’t know anyone who has ever done that for a friend in all my reading of history, not that I particularly liked that subject.”
“Well, as a teacher,” The headmaster started, thinking back to all the students he has had the pleasure of educating. “I have found that friendships don’t always last as people grow. And people change.”
The two spent the next hour refining the details — political moves, alliances, potential opposition, and how best to structure the potential fundraiser of her cause for maximum effect. By the time Dumbledore rose from his chair, he was satisfied. His and the Flamel’s plans were falling into place almost perfectly. And all without exposing that Grey was a Seer — something he would rather avoid without permission and risk inconveniencing an already enraged magical powerhouse.
Dumbledore got to the door before the nostalgia hit him, remembering old times with his old friend and he set off to his next destination — Nurmengard Castle, to talk to another Seer he managed to enrage all those years ago. But who better to discuss matters of Seers, than those with the same ability?
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Reality: Star Wars
Naboo: Theed
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In one of the smaller throne rooms of the Theed Royal Palace, Queen Padme Amidala, adorned in her ceremonial red and gold robes, sat gracefully upon the royal throne. The expansive hall with high, arched ceilings supported by ornate marble columns, each adorned with intricate carvings and gilded details, did nothing to assuage the unease she was feeling.
Even as she occasionally glazed away from the meeting at the polished cream-coloured stone walls that glowed softly under the natural light streaming in through the tall, stained-glass windows, her mind would constantly go to the words of the Jedi Master the day before.
Around her stood her most trusted advisors with concerned, drawn faces as they spoke in urgent tones.
“The Trade Federation is breathing down our necks, Your Majesty,” one of her slightly chubby senior ministers said, clearly frustrated. “They have placed even heavier tariffs and have begun to control all trade in the system with even more fervour. If this continues, our resources will soon be at their mercy.”
Another advisor, an elderly man with greying hair, stepped forward. “They are crippling us economically, forcing more of our merchants to bend to their will out of desperation.”
Queen Amidala listened patiently before calmly responding. “There is nothing we can do to stop them without the Senate’s intervention,” she reminded them. “And unfortunately, they have done nothing to interfere on our behalf as of yet.” She let out a small sigh, but her resolve remained steadfast. “Still, I will continue pressing the issue. We will not surrender our sovereignty.”
A flickering blue hologram of Senator Palpatine stood before them with his hands folded in front of him, clear concern on his facial features.
“I assure you, Your Majesty, I am doing everything I can here on Coruscant,” Palpatine said smoothly, sighing as his shoulders sagged in defeat. “I have spoken to all who will listen, but progress has been slow. Many in the Senate are… reluctant to act. Reluctant to be remembered as the person who instigated the conflict’s escalation to an actual physical confrontation.”
Before Palpatine could continue, his hologram flickered erratically, the image distorting with bursts of static. Then the transmission cut out completely. A heavy silence fell over the room as the occupants looked at each other in confusion while the technicians did their work to get the connection back.
Captain Quarsh Panaka, standing at Padmé’s side, immediately pressed a hand to his earpiece, only for his expression to darken as he received a priority alert. A deep frown settled on his face as he listened, and when he spoke, his voice was grave.
“What do you mean, there’s a fleet around the planet?” he barked into his comm. The reply was tense and slightly garbled through the sudden interference.
“Sir, we just picked them up — a full blockade. Several Lucrehulk-class battleships have positioned themselves in orbit, completely surrounding Naboo. They are deploying —” A short pause as the person on the other end must have been going through the scan. “— Large groups of droids. Hundreds… no, thousands of them by our scans so far.”
Captain Panaka’s jaw clenched as he turned sharply to the Queen. “Your Majesty, we have a problem.”
Padme’s gaze remained calm, though the worry in her eyes was unmistakable. “Report, captain.”
Panaka straightened. “A fleet of Trade Federation battleships has just begun deploying droids all over Naboo. We’re looking at a full-scale blockade.”
Gasps filled the throne room.
Amidala’s fingers tightened subtly on the armrest of her throne, but her voice remained steady. “What about the Master Jedi? Has he taken any action?”
Panaka pressed his earpiece again, relaying the question. A moment later, he received a response and turned back to the Queen. “According to the reports, he’s still inside his ship after taking it apart for maintenance. Since his arrival, he has not moved from his location in the jungle.”
Queen Amidala frowned slightly, wondering why the Jedi Master would want her only to do nothing when the trouble actually arrived. Then she asked, “Have the Senate’s Ambassadors arrived?”
Panaka nodded. “I received confirmation of their arrival just before the communications blackout, Your Majesty. They should have been on the way here.”
Queen Amidala frowned, she knew it meant they were somewhere on the planet now — but whether or not they could reach them in time was another matter entirely. Padme’s gaze hardened as she regretted not heeding the warning and putting up better defences to protect her people. “Then we must get to the Ambassadors immediately to expedite negotiations if possible. When the Senate hears of this, they will sure pay the consequences.”
As the Queen, her advisors, and her guards, led by Captain Panaka, moved swiftly through the palace corridors, heading toward the last confirmed location of the Senate’s Ambassadors, the situation in Theed was deteriorating rapidly, if the reports Panaka was receiving were anything to go by. The Captain gripped his blaster tightly as he spoke, urgently looking around the corner before they advanced. “They were sighted near the hall around the corner of the next corridor. If they’re still there, we need to get to them before the droids do.”
However, before they could turn the corner, cold metal barrels of blasters were already pointed directly at them from the droid they thought they had bypassed.
“Freeze!” A droid barked in an emotionless, metallic and slightly distorted voice. “Don’t move!”
Panaka cursed under his breath as more battle droids filed in with their weapons trained on them. He and the other guards reluctantly dropped their blasters, knowing that fighting back in this situation, especially without any cover, would be suicidal. The droids approached, not even bothering with collecting the discarded weapons as they gestured for the group to move. “This way prisoners. You will be detained in a room until called for.”
With no choice, The Queen and her people were being escorted deeper into the palace, only for blue and green blurs to cut through the air. The droids barely had time to react as two figures seamlessly moved through them like a storm, with their lightsabres cutting down the metal soldiers in rapid, fluid motions to the Queen and advisor’s eyes. Blaster bolts were sent back toward the attackers, striking their own ranks and dropping droid after droid.
Within moments, the corridor fell silent. A tall man with long, slightly unkempt, shoulder-length brown hair — most likely from exertion, looked around at the droids to make sure they were down for good. Deactivating the green-bladed lightsabre in his hand and placing it on a clip on his belt, his posture relaxed as he looked toward the group.
He was wearing traditional Jedi robes, earthy tones, a brown outer cloak, and dark boots similar to the younger man with short hair and a blue-bladed sabre standing beside him.
The tall man stepped forward, offering a respectful bow. “I am Qui-Gon Jinn, a Jedi Master of the Republic, and this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He straightened as his sharp gaze went to the Queen. “We were sent by the Supreme Chancellor as Ambassadors to help resolve the crisis regarding the Trade Federation.”
One of Padme’s advisors, the chubby one, snorted. “Well,” he said, crossing his arms pompously. “Judging by how much of a mess everything turned out to be, I take it negotiations failed.”
Qui-Gon let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh before he spoke. “Unfortunately, there were no negotiations. The Federation came out of hyperspace the moment we arrived and set the blockade. We’ve been unable to contact Coruscant for assistance.”
Panaka grimaced, as he and his guards went to pick up their weapons and adjust them back in their holsters. “Communications seem to have been cut off completely. We need to get to the palace’s main hangar and head straight for Coruscant to make a report.”
Qui-Gon shook his head. “That won’t work.”
Panaka frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We just came from the hangar,” Obi-Wan said, sheathing his lightsaber. “It is crawling with droids like these — more than we can handle. We only barely got out.”
Padme studied the two Jedi, roving her sharp eyes over their forms and taking in the burn marks on their robes from near misses — blaster bolts that had nearly struck them during their escape. Considering how easily they had dealt with the droids just now, she could easily believe their statement of how difficult it must be to take the Hangar, even with her guards. She considered their options quickly, then, after catching the ‘Queen’s’ eyes, she turned to Panaka.
“We have another option,” she said. Though she never doubted her devotion, she was still a little surprised at Sabe’s quick thinking and starting on her attire even before they left the throne room, allowing for a smoother switch.
Panaka raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”
Padme turned back to Qui-Gon. “There’s another ship on Naboo — one that might not be under enemy’s watch.”
Qui-Gon frowned slightly. “What ship?”
As they moved swiftly through one of the palace’s secret passageways with the guards leading the way, Padme explained, “Yesterday, a Jedi Master arrived on Naboo. He took his ship apart for maintenance and hasn’t left it since.”
Qui-Gon’s expression shifted to one of genuine surprise. “Another Jedi?” He exchanged a look with Obi-Wan. The Republic had sent only them — which meant this Jedi was not an official representative. “We were not made aware of another Jedi on a mission to this planet. Did he give you a name? Or explain his mission here?”
“He saved me yesterday.” Padme’s expression was unreadable, but Qui-Gon could sense she was hiding something more on the matter. “But, he didn’t give a name before he left for his ship.”
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"You bore all the responsibility for what happened."
—Qui-Gon Jinn
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Hello There
Dumbledore’s making moves, as he does. Nothing malicious, but he’s a politician who saw and felt how grim the future was going to be, he's just trying to make things better and John seems like one of his best bets.
This timeline’s Trade Federation is slightly more competent, they sent more droids to all the places in the Palace that could get the word out about the blockade.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC and original ideas. All credit goes to their respective owners.
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Thank you for reading.
As always, stay awesome.
Until next time, Light's out.
Comments
Lightest_Reader
They're not the smartest bunch.
Joshy Vindicta
Please. Please tell me you don’t intend on them trying to trap him in Britain. Because that, sir, is absolute bullshit and if he’s as powerful as they’re claiming they wouldn’t DARE.
Lictor Magnus
Thanks for the chapter. Tariffs and aggressive trade negotiations feel way more relevant now than they did in 99 😅.
LothWolf
And also thanks for the chapter 👍😁❤️
LothWolf
This girl better have a pretty good sincere apology to John for dismissing his warnings about the Trading federation because of it was me I’m not helping until I get from the heart sincere apology
