The Secret War | Dramione

Chapter 23

"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

-William Shakespeare, The Tempest

In streets, alleyways, and corners all over Britain, wizards and witches switched on their radios, listening for news of the battle that would alter the course of the war.

"10pm in London tonight. No fog. Voldemort and his forces are entering the city...they're turning the river Thames to ice...many muggles have fled underground, hoping to find refuge in the tube stations, but the blasts from the fighting have trapped them under concrete and steel...

"The British people, muggles and wizards alike, look to the Magical Alliance and the Order, as they join together with muggle forces. Voldemort has doubled the size of his army with the help of his Albanian friends, and now the Dementors enter the city to extinguish the last of our hope, but some believe that Harry Potter still lives..."

10 Downing Street, 11 PM

"Sir, it's happening. He's frozen the Thames, he's marching deeper into London."

The Prime Minister followed his private secretary through the maze of corridors that made up 10 Downing Street. The place was half empty, and his footsteps echoed loudly on the marble floors.

The doors outside were made of blast proof steel. But the Prime Minister doubted they'd offer much in the way of protection.

Not with what they were facing.

For all he knew, the enemy's curses would seep into the walls without so much as a crack in the exterior.

The Prime Minister quickened his pace, and his secretary had to sprint to keep up with him.

Building ten was connected by an interior passage to eleven, where they reached his living quarters.

"Your advisors have evacuated sir," said his secretary.

The Prime Minister nodded.

There were a number of underground tunnels and networks that led to key points around the city, and he hoped his people would survive the night.

"And parliament, Brenley?" he asked.

Brenley swallowed. "They've barricaded themselves in the House of Commons and the House of Lords. They said there's no point leaving, nowhere to run to, the madman's forces are everywhere."

"To think it's come to this..." the Prime Minister said, rubbing his forehead.

He walked over to a large red sofa.

A painting with a gilded frame hung over it. He prized it off the wall, revealing a very narrow passage.

Brenley frowned at him.

"Sir, this tunnel leads straight to the fighting—your security detail is waiting for you on the other—"

"I'm not running away, Brenley, I'm going to fight like the rest of them." The Prime Minister loosened his tie. "The world will never be the same after this day..."

"But sir—"

He motioned his secretary over. "I can use an extra hand. There's people trapped in the underground—from Paddington, to Victoria Street, all the way to Charing Cross. We have to get them out."

Brenley's chin trembled slightly. "I'm afraid I don't have your courage, sir."

The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow. "Very well, then. I suppose this is goodbye..."

"Maybe one day we'll see each other again," said Brenley. "Once things go back to normal and the dust settles."

The Prime Minister looked at him in disbelief. "We're not going back to normal. For better or worse, we're going to live in a new world..."