Mutiny, Part 1

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Gaspard's cerulean eyes combed the audience, searching for any sign of foul play, anyone who shouldn't be there, the absence of anyone who should be there, seeking anything that might seem amiss.

Luckily, the ostentatious departure of Riddle and Dumbledore, though shocking, had been passed off as part of the night's entertainment.

Gaspard thought back to the look on Riddle's face as he hemmed him up in the corridor.

He was sure that Riddle had something to do with Hermione's disappearance. If not directly, then indirectly, which was just as bad in his book.

If Riddle continued to take part in dangerous and illegal activities, then he'd better be able to protect Hermione, or Gaspard would make it his responsibility to intervene and do so himself.

His resolve to separate himself from her was quickly crumbling.

His aurors combed the upper levels of the ministry as Minister Moon continued his speech, then welcomed the night's MC, the famous quidditch announcer Uriah Smith.

"Voting booths have officially closed on Diagon, Vertic, and Horizont Alley!" He announced amid cheers from the celebrants. "The final booth in Kettel Court is closing in approximately..." He slipped his pocketwatch from his suit coat and clicked it open. "... two minutes!"

Murmurs of excitement and anticipation rose from the crowd.

Smith held his cherrywood wand to his voicebox and shouted, "Bring forth the owls!"

A parliament of owls flew into the grand atrium, hundreds of birds circling in formation around three enormous glass vessels. Each owl dropped a ballot into a vessel, and with each vote cast, a colorful light filled the glass container.

Beneath the banner bearing Hermione's image sat a vessel rapidly filling with a brilliant red light.

Gaspard swallowed, having half a mind to use the ministry's geolocational magic to track Riddle's wand to wherever those phoenixes had taken them.

He said a silent prayer, begging whatever powers existed to preserve their new minister, wherever she may be...

—————-

With a soft click, quite a far cry from the thunderous way in which they'd disappeared from the ministry, Tom and Dumbledore apparated into a dark, damp place and immediately felt a pervasive chill in its stale, unmoving air. Tom stumbled for a moment before he regained his balance, the ground being rough and uneven beneath his usually nimble feet.

He narrowed his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness, the only light being cast by lanterns which lined walls of jagged rock, dimly lit and in sharp contrast to the bright ballroom they had just left.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and muttered a gruff, "Lumos." White light flared brilliantly from the end of his wand, illuminating what appeared to be a large cavern. Fawkes and Seraphina flew to a rocky ledge nearby and perched, preening and cleaning their feathers.

"Do you know where we are, headmaster?" asked Tom , reverting back to the mannerisms of his school days.

Dumbledore cut his eyes at Riddle. "If my eyes are not deceiving me, we appear to be at the mouth of the Gringotts tunnels. Have you never been here before, Tom?"

Irritation speared through his panic at his former teacher's use of his first name. Every professor he'd known referred to him as Mr. Riddle, but Dumbledore insisted on calling him Tom.

He pushed down his displeasure as his eyes began to adjust, and he realized that if he had stumbled much more to the right, he would've fallen into a deep rocky canyon, one which was lined with vaults and spiraling iron tracks. Several more tunnels were carved out of the rock in the canyon, the meager light from the lanterns revealing their entrances.

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