September 2 2007 / 2 Hearthfire 4E202
Mariana Islands, South Pacific Ocean (+10 UTC)

The operator of the small boat cut the engines, announcing, somewhat dazed, “We're... we're here.”

“This took longer than anticipated.”

“F-forgive me.”

He glanced at the three 'guests' with glassy eyes, his head still somewhat in a fog. They were all dressed in dark cloaks, strange outfits for the area. Hoods covered their heads, effectively masking their faces. He knew one of them was female, and guessed the others were somewhat older.

“It makes no matter,” spoke the woman, “You have done as asked. Face the front of the boat, and remain that way until we tell you otherwise. The lives of your family depend on your cooperation.”

The operator faced forward obediently, while one of the others remarked, “It's not necessary to further threaten him. He remains under our absolute control.”

“He's a useless Muggle,” the woman sneered, reaching into her robes and producing a cylindrical object.

She set it on the deck, and a wave of the hand had it restored to proper size—about the size of a fifty-gallon drum. The waves of magic radiating from it was almost intoxicating—even the operator of the boat could feel something in the air—something that was quite literally making the hair on his forearms want to stand on end.

“It will take some time for this to reach the bottom, m-my lady,” said the third, “Even assisted with the reverse buoyancy charm.”

“It matters not, within hours, our enemy will feel the first of many stakes be driven through their hearts,” the woman hissed low, “With perhaps great collateral damage spilling over to destroy great numbers of Muggles; numbers Lord Voldemort could only dream of!”

“Our brothers and sisters in the western US have already been advised to take steps,” said the first man, “Though unfortunate we will lose some magical blood with what we're about to do.”

“That also matters not, fool,” the witch growled, “They chose their path by aligning themselves with Muggle loving fools and their ilk! They deserve no better fate, than for for the sea itself to rise up and carry them to the afterlife.”

She thrust out a hand, levitating the barrel up and over the side of the boat, then let it drop in the water. It rested on the waves a moment, before slowly beginning to sink. She waited for it to slip beneath the waves before declaring, “Return us to shore.”

Spiraminis, meaning “Crevice”, was a relatively new city in the Commonwealth, having been constructed less than two centuries before. It was part of an experiment to determine whether the Commonwealth could actually construct cities beneath the sea bed, rather than just underground. Up to now, it had been a resounding success, with no problems, even considering the geology of the area. The Mariana Trench was geologically active, in a number of ways, certainly testing the skill of wizards and engineers.

The city covered 750 square kilometers, with a ceiling of 500 meters, and boasted a population of 500 thousand, it was all in all a typical Commonwealth city. People lived, worked, went to school, shopped, dined—everything you would expect in a typical large population centre.

That late winter evening, however, proved to be nothing ordinary, as alarms rang out in several offices across the city, as a subtle, but rapid vibration seemed to permeate every surface. At first, it was thought they were experiencing an earthquake, but—no, that didn't make sense. The vibration was rapid, and consistent.

At the city's Office of Resource Management, or ORM for short, staff came to a horrifying conclusion.

“Gods. The key wards are being disturbed by whatever this vibration is!” the master warder on duty shouted, “This doesn't stop in three minutes, they'll collapse.”

“Make that two, the vibration's increasing in frequency,” spoke a colleague beside him.

“Gringotts is evacuating,” said another, putting down a phone.

Hans Krupp, the on-duty manager, had most certainly been through a simulation of such an event, but... to have to play for real? He had two choices. One; let the wards collapse, and create an instant five-hundred metre sinkhole in the ocean floor over four times the size of Manhattan... or two; breach the northern end of the ward, flooding the city not quite as rapidly, killing everyone inside, but preventing a tsunami that would make the 2004 event look like it took place in a kiddie pool. He picked up the phone.

“Ah, Harry. Good of you to make it,” said Voldemort, with fake pleasantry. The book had fallen to the floor a number of feet away, and as Harry tried to shake out the cobwebs, Voldemort continued, “You are a fool, Harry Potter. To allow yourself to be brought into the very seat of my power, where I am surrounded by my supporters. You trust too easily. A fatal mistake.”

“I guess I should have expected that,” Harry muttered, still trying to regain his bearings. He tried to crawl over to the book, but Voldemort simply summoned it with a wave of his hand.

“So, you do bring a gift.”

“I do as promised,” Harry managed, making sure his mental shields were still in place. Everything was sound, thanks to the years of training. Healer Ferris had conducted harsh drills while Brandon and Eric pounded him with spells... now it was all paying off.

“Harry, Harry, Harry. Do you not see? No matter what you may have done, our paths are still very different. Your actions are driven by anger and fury, while mine, only work to restore balance to the Wizarding world. Regretfully, none of those plans can ever involve you.”

“But...”

“But, what, Harry? I do thank you for the gift. I plan on studying its contents... only after I do away with you. Good bye, Harry Potter.”

Harry knew what was coming, but was still somewhat scattered, and was slow to react to the Dark Lord's hissed, “Avada Kedavra.”

Brilliant emerald green ballooned into his vision, then—

“Harry?”

He felt a hand reach up and touch his shoulder.

“B-bad dream.”

“I know, I get them sometimes, too,” said Mazhe, as they turned to face one another. Harry flicked a finger out, and '3:02 a' wafted from the tip.

“Gah, too early to get up.”

Unfortunately, noise out in the corridor put an end to his idea of going back to sleep. They'd only just returned from their vacation, wishing to spend a couple more days of down time before resuming any kind of schedule.

“Sounds like something's going on,” Mazhe said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and summoning a tee shirt. Harry was already doing the same. Less than a minute later, the pair were dressed, and stepped out into the corridor. Was that...

“Your grace? What... what's going on?” Harry questioned, worried, seeing Queen Susan and her protection detail now standing in his common room. A few others were with her, faces he didn't recognize, but didn't question it. If they were with the Queen, they were more than safe.

“We're going off-script, Harry,” the Queen answered, “Our standard protocols in an emergency were determined to be flawed.”

“What happened?”

“The city of Spiraminis was destroyed a few minutes ago with catastrophic losses,” the Queen answered, as she was led into the dining room.

“They reported some sort of vibration that had—“

“Harmonic resonance, a technique practised by warders and curse-breakers on occasion,” said Harry.

“Yes, indeed, but back to the point, the wards were crippled by the vibrations, and the city was forced to make a terrible choice.”

Mazhe looked confused. “They couldn't evacuate?”

“This happened about ten minutes ago, Mr. Stormcrown,” said the new speaker.

“Harry, Mazhe, I introduce Linda Hampton, my Royal Press Secretary, and her assistant, Lee Pearson.”

“Oh. Uh, pleasure,” said Mazhe, as they shook hands.

Harry was still confused. “But... reason behind so much death still escapes grasp. Why was evacuation not attempted?”

“The wards were already beginning to collapse when they got in touch with Trevelyan.” “What would've happened had the wards collapsed—I mean, would that have bought people time?” Mazhe questioned.

“Perhaps, at a far more terrifying price, Mazhe,” answered the Queen, “It would have created an instant, massive hole in the sea floor that would have covered about—“

“Seven hundred-fifty square kilometers, five hundred metres deep.”

“Jupiter's cock...” Harry barely whispered, as the realization set in. “Gods... that would end San Francisco, L.A., Vancouver, Tokyo, Hong Kong... such a wave is unfathomable. No coastal location in the Pacific would escape untouched.”

“A terrible sacrifice was made, to prevent one many times worse.”

“Her majesty, along with a number of other government officials have been moved to safe locations, until the wards which protect Trevelyan can be adjusted.”

“I do hope my temporary presence will not cause discomfort,” said the Queen.

“You do not impose, your grace,” Harry answered, “With Remus returning to his cottage, there is ample room available for you, and should you require it, we can most certainly relocate, so that you might borrow the entire flat.”

“I will not impose more than necessary, Harry. I do realize this is your home.”

“Harry, what—“ Brandon stopped short in the entrance to the dining room. “Y-your grace.” He bowed his head in respect.

“As you were, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Something tells me this isn't a social call.”

“No, it is not,” the Queen answered, gravely.

By the time breakfast was put out, the rest of the flat was aware of what was going on. Nearly a half-million people had been crushed or drowned within minutes. To date, the worst disaster in the Commonwealth's history, and it had happened while everyone slept.

With the meal over, the dining room was quickly taken over by more members of the Queen's Communications department, as they worked on a public address her majesty would be making in a few hours. A disaster of such magnitude, it was expected that the Queen would address the Commonwealth.

With that much chaos going on, both Harry and Mazhe left the flat, deciding to check in with the Guild. Unfortunately, the Ragged Flagon was empty, save for the pair of SOU soldiers keeping watch just outside the flat—Dierge shamelessly took advantage of the extra security, giving himself more time to rest.

“Perhaps we could visit with Paarthurnax,” Mazhe suggested, “Even this early, he'll like the company.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Harry gripped Mazhe about the shoulder, and they vanished with a soft pop.

Returning to the flat for dinner, they found the dining room still occupied. Now, the compliment had expanded to include senior staff from the Department of Information, and the Ministry of Defence.

“We have reason to believe the incident may have been a terrorist attack,” said Brandon, at Harry's unanswered question.

“The harmonic resonance.”

“Exactly. Several of our subs are doing a sweep of the trench and the surrounding area. They've already picked up strong magical traces.”

“Whoever did this... gods... murder on an unimaginable scale,” said Mazhe, “Not even the Thalmor are guilty of such a crime.”

“But capable of it,” Harry muttered, “However, the more pressing matter, is that this sort of thing was orchestrated and executed in the first place.”

“Which the government agrees with, Harry. It's likely her majesty will be a guest here for the next week at a minimum, until we can ensure such a failure won't happen again. Gringotts is also being warned, as is the ICW, since we most certainly have allies within its membership.”

“I still find it astounding, that someone was able to create something with strength enough to disrupt such powerful defences.”

“Three guesses, first two don't count, who might be responsible,” said Tommy, wading into the conversation.

Harry let out a snort. “Concurred. Mum and dad did pass on warning. Perhaps it bears poisonous fruit.”

He thought for a moment.

“We'll have to set up something different for classes then—“

“Already arranged,” answered Brandon, “Mrs. Longbottom has invited you and your classmates to borrow her dining room for the time being. The government, meanwhile, will be setting up a more proper school building in the next few days.”

“Gods, rate we're going, the Commonwealth will quite literally have a colony set up here in Skyrim,” said Mazhe.“There is debate about doing exactly that,” said Justin, now joining the conversation, “Given the number of people here already, some displaced from England, but still, people from our world... it makes sense. And with the dragon threat somewhat contained...”

“Not entirely,” Mazhe cut in, “Though Alduin is gone, there are still a large number of dragons out there who do pose a threat.”

“The government will make sure the settlement is secured. As it stands, we're planning to move the buildings to a location just west of Snow-shod Farm.”

“I know of them,” said Mazhe.

“My nieces...”

“Remus will continue to tutor them until we're sure things are safe back in Trevelyan,” answered Brandon. “I know you'd hoped for them to join public school, but...”

“I'd rather them be safe, yeah.”

Harry let out a sigh. “Gods. This event... still gives cause for concern. I now regret our returning from vacation yesterday. Perhaps we should have remained in Sydney.”

“Wouldn't have mattered. You would have still been warned,” said Brandon, “Remember, no matter what, you're still considered a VIP here in the Commonwealth—even if you wish you weren't. Stuff like this, you're one of the first to know about it.”

Harry scowled.

“We take leave to visit the guild.”

“Goes without saying, unless something urgent comes up, we want to be left alone,” Mazhe added. He glanced at Tommy. “Coming?”