Victorian Era
It had been two months since Ciel had sat in his father's lap and listened to the Queen's letter. He had begun learning about the culture and history of wizarding societies from his father, just as his mother was teaching him etiquette and dancing; something the child abhorred with the majority of his being.
"Young master, is there something the matter?" Tanaka asked from behind him. Ciel nearly jumped at the head butler's voice before turning to face the man. Ciel smiled at Tanaka, the butler was always kind and would listen to him if his parents were away.
"There are so many people here, are they all wizards, or just some of them?" Ciel asked looking around the room that they were standing in. The two were by a large window and watched the lords and ladies whirl and dance across the floor to the music. Ciel had never been to a ball before, and he wasn't too certain he enjoyed it. Tanaka smiled at his little master.
"Your father and mother do not truly enjoy such large gathering either, young master. However, they always appear to as to do otherwise would be rude. Not to mention that there is a saying that one will catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," said the butler to the boy. Ciel looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling again.
"Then, I shall be honey," said the boy giggling as he ran off to find his father. Tanaka smiled at Ciel's back. The boy had so much energy, and it was refreshing to see the boy but energy towards something other than his studies. The child was bright and caught on well, but he was also mischievous and loved to play games with anyone who would agree. Tanaka went off to the kitchens to make sure everything was as it should be.
Ciel, meanwhile, was searching through the large gowns and tailcoats for his father. Even though he was seven, Ciel was smaller than average, and it held him at a disadvantage in circumstances such as this. Finally he spotted his father with a rather portly man, who looked a lot like Vernon Dursley, Harry Potter's uncle. Ciel faltered for a moment in fear before shaking his head at his foolishness and heading towards the two men.
He was Potter's uncle, not mine, and he can't do anything now,Ciel told himself. He'd begun thinking of Harry Potter as someone else, someone dead. He was Ciel Phantomhive, son of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, and he was loved. He put a sweet smile on his pale face and went up to his father.
"Father, I've been looking for you. Tanaka said something very important to me," said the little boy before pretending to notice the portly man for the first time. His smile widened and he bowed. "Hello, sir, I'm Ciel Phantomhive. I'm sorry if I interrupted you and Father's conversation," he said to the portly man. On closer inspection, there was only their size that man Vernon and this man similar; he had red, balding hair, a red nose and he sweated in the warm ballroom. The man smiled at him and flushed.
"Not at all, little lord. Your father and I were just conversing about our good works," said the man. Vincent nodded and smiled at his son. The dark haired child looked like a doll in his outfit. He wore black shorts with matching socks and boots. His shirt was snow white and his overcoat was a sapphire blue velvet, with a matching ribbon tied around his neck.
"What did Tanaka tell you that was so important, Ciel?" Vincent asked his lovely son. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the novae riche man eye his son with a blush. Vincent kept his irritation buried and focused on his son. Ciel looked at the portly man for a moment before motioning to his father to come closer. Vincent smiled, knowing his son was excluding the stranger. "He said I should be honey," Ciel whispered into his father's ear, as he stood on tiptoe. Vincent let out a chuckle as his impish son set himself back on his feet and gave a satisfied smile. The little quip having been said. Vincent noticed a look of envy on the fat man's face; he'd wanted to be included. Vincent felt the irritation bubble up and pushed in down.
"I see, that is very important. If you'll excuse me, Lord Byron, My presence is required elsewhere," Vincent said before beckoning his son to follow him.
"Father, who was that man?" Ciel asked as they walked. His voice was quiet and the din of the room kept others from overhearing. Vincent looked down at his son.
"A new money, Ciel. Someone who buys their way into nobility and then tries to act as one of us," said Vincent. Such people were pathetic; they thought money buying them a title meant they were nobility. It was a despicable notion and Vincent wished the Queen wouldn't allow it to happen, although he doubted she had much say in the matter.
"Shall we play a game, Ciel?" Vincent asked. This ball was a perfect opportunity to further his son's lessons in being the guard dog to her Majesty. Ciel looked at him with a genuine smile.
"Always, Father. What game will we play today?" Ciel asked. He loved it when his father played games with him. Vincent smiled. "A new one. Do you remember when we played the memorization game?" Vincent asked. He'd tested his son's memory two years ago, to see how well his son could remember. It was now one of Ciel's favorite games.
"Yes, is it like that?"
"It is. However, in this game, you have to organize people. You must watch the people here in this room, and then tell me if whether they are muggle or wizard, and if they are nobility, businessmen, servants or new money. We'll see how many you can get right, hm?" said Vincent with a conspiratorial air to him. Ciel nodded his eyes wide.
"Which one first?" Ciel asked. Vincent smiles as his son focused on the ballroom. When Ciel set his mind to something he never let up. It was a trait Vincent was pleased his little boy had.
"The woman in the blue dress, next to Lord Byron."
"...She's a witch, and the wife of one of the businessmen here. He's important, but they aren't noble."
"Very good, that is Mrs. Ollivander; her husband makes wands in Diagon Alley. They are business people, and magical. Very good Ciel."
"Thank you, this is fun. Who's the next target?"
"Heh, the man, over by the wine. He's wearing a green tailcoat, and he's rather tall."
Modern Era
The skirmish in Diagon Alley the previous week had been a disaster. Innocent bystanders had gotten seriously injured and fear laced with panic was rampant in the populace due to the Death Eaters' victory. Three Order members had died, two were in Azkaban and only four of the Death Eaters had been apprehended. Everyone knew they'd escape before too long.
Currently the core of the Order was seated around the table in Grimauld Place. Albus sat at the head, in a periwinkle robe with comets; Minerva sat to his right while Mad Eye sat to his left. Further down the table were Remus and Sirius, side by side, with Kingsley between them and Minerva. Opposite them were The three Potters, and beyond them were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and their eldest and two youngest. Last but not least was Hermione Granger.
"Now we have even fewer numbers, the aurors should've been allowed to handle the alley while we recruited and trained more people," Mad Eye growled as his eye whirled in its socket. Kingsley nodded. Minerva frowned but did not disagree. Charlie looked like he wanted to say something but James spoke first.
"More innocent people would have been killed if we hadn't gone," said the former jock. Lily frowned while Mad Eye barked out a mocking laugh.
"Lad, you don't know anything if you believe that," said the old auror. "The Dark Lord only kills muggleborns, half-bloods and purebloods are off limits when it comes to him. It was us fighting that probably caused those deaths."
There was a knock on the front door that sent Mrs. Black screeching throughout the house.
"Someone get the door while I shut her up!" Sirius shouted to the group as he rushed to quiet his mother. Mrs. Weasley got up to answer the door.
"Hello?" she asked with caution as she cracked the door open and held her wand at the ready. There before her was a tall, red haired man in an English suit and tapping the stair with an umbrella. Behind him stood a young woman tapping rapidly into a device of some sort and she wore a black jumper that revealed cleavage and blue jeans that ended in three inch heels.
"Hello, I'm here to see a Mr. Dumbledore; the Supreme Mugwump, head of the Wizengamot, Order of Merlin first class and current headmaster of Hogwarts," said the man with a small smile. "I have an urgent message that must be delivered to him directly post haste."
"Who are you?" Mrs. Weasley asked with her wand pointed at them in the open now that she knew they weren't muggles. The looked like he wanted to sigh.
"Madam, this is an important message that I must give to Mr. Dumbledore himself. Please kindly step aside," said the man. There was an edge to his voice that Mrs. Weasley did not like.
"No, I don't believe so," she said and tried to close the door. The man's umbrella stopped her. She felt a lump form in her throat as she saw steel in the man's blue eyes.
"No, I do not believe you understand the gravity of this message. It is of the upmost urgency from the highest offices in regards to this little "war", as you lot so call it. You will move aside, madam, or Merope will have to do so for you."
Mrs. Weasley looked to the woman who was still typing into her device; but she stepped aside even though she was certain she could take the chit.
"He's this way," she said and led them to the kitchen where everyone had their wands drawn.
"Thank you, madam. You may all put your wands away, we are not an enemy. Now, I am Mr. Holmes, and this is my assistant, Merope—"
"I'm sorry my boy, but why are you here? We are in a very important meeting," Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling. He did not like that the assistant shared the same name as Voldemort's late mother.
"That is precisely why I am here, Mr. Dumbledore. This is the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix," said Holmes. The looks on their faces made him smile a bland smile that masked his humor at their expense.
"The Queen is quite disappointed in how the magical ministry, and by extension yourself, have been handling this rebellion of on Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. Now, Her Majesty—"
"You can't possibly work for the queen, you look like an errand boy; not to mention, why would the queen of the muggles know about any of this?" said Charlie. Holmes ignored the boy, although he felt distaste in his mouth.
"— has decided to involve herself in this matter. Hence, you and the magical ministry are no longer in charge of ending this rebellion. That task has been given to Her Majesty's Guard Dog, Earl Phantomhive. You will follow his orders and commands, and you will stay out of his way. He is to be given every convenience, Mr. Dumbledore. I do not believe I need to tell you how displeased her Highness would be if the Earl wrote to her of your lack of cooperation. Now, Merope and I shall take our leave, good day," said Holmes before leaving.
"Albus, what the bloody hell was he on about?" asked James. Dumbledore sighed, this was not good. "It is not well known in our world, but the royal family is still the sovereign ruler of the British Wizarding world. The Queen actually has complete control over both muggle and Wizarding England," Albus sighed. No, this wasn't good at all. Fudge really cocked this one up
"How is that possible?" asked Arthur Weasley.
"The man you just met, Mr. Holmes... He is the true government of muggle England. He makes final decisions, and they always favor the Queen. He's called the Shadow British Government, and he is not a good man. We only have the minister of magic, but they directly report to the Queen, and there's also the Guard Dog which keeps the minister from acting against her."
"What did he mean Guard Dog?" Sirius asked.
"The Queen's Guard Dog had been around since Elizabeth the first's time. They are a magical family, noble, who control the muggle underworld and clean up the messes of the Wizarding world. They are brutal, very rarely work inside the laws, and are exempted from the normal laws that govern our people. If the Queen has called in her Guard Dog, then we truly are in trouble."
"Surely there is something we can do," Mrs. Weasley pleaded. Albus's eyes were solemn as he looked around the table.
"There is nothing we can do, legally. If we go against this order from the Queen, then we risk execution. Such things do still happen. I've been trying to change them, but the Queen's grip on our world and the old ways is iron clad."
There was a thick silence as everyone sat thinking on his words before an owl flew down the chimney and dropped a letter in front of Dumbledore before flittering to rest on the mantle place. Dumbledore picked it up and examined the red wax seal, the sigil of a hound was imprinted. He opened the envelope and read the letter before passing it to Minerva. As the letter was passed around, he said:
"I believe I have a letter to write this fine bird, and we all must pack."
The letter read is a cursive script of elegant calligraphy:
Dear Order of the Phoenix,
This letter is an invitation from the illustrious Earl of Phantomhive to attend a ball at his manor this Saturday at seven in the evening. The ball is a Victorian theme, so do please bring the appropriate dress. Also, this invitation includes a request from my master the Earl; he wishes for you all to stay on his estate for the duration of this unpleasant rebellion. For those who work at the ministry, you will be given a paid sabbatical and the children will have the most excellent tutelage. For the professors, it is understandable if they wish to continue teaching but if that is the case they are to assume they are to no longer be involved in Order business. Therefore, they may wish to find an appropriate replacement. Please send your reply as soon as possible via the owl which brought this letter to you. Thank you and we look forward to offering the fullest of Phantomhive hospitality to you all.
Sebastian Michaels
Head butler of Earl Ciel of Phantomhive