Chapter 56 Memorials

It was a lovely day at Hogwarts. Spring had come to the Highlands of Scotland. The gates of the castle were open again, as they had been in the years of peace. The damage to the walls had been repaired, mostly. Some of it had been left as it was, as a memorial to those who had fallen there. The area out in front of the walls was free of the dead dragons, but it was no longer the manicured lawn it had once been. A brutal close quarters battle had been fought in that place. Here and there grass was beginning to grow back, but magic and dragon fire had clashed there, and the scars would long remain.

Out of that stretch of churned and blasted earth rose a monument, pale stone topped with a wizard on a broom, his wand extended. All the four sides bore inscriptions. The inscription under the wizard was, The Battle of Hogwarts. Beneath that were the dates, and on one side the names of all of Dumbledore's Army who had fought there. The names of those who had died there were wreathed in laurel. On the other sides were those who had come to the rescue, with the names of the fallen wreathed in laurel also.

Harry stood up to the temporary lectern and looked out at the crowd. The veterans of the battle were in the places of honour in the front. There were families, reporters, and many of the ordinary people of the Realm who had come to witness this event.

"Good morning. It has been a year since we buried our dead and paid them the respect that they reserved, even as those still here are owed a debt beyond repayment. We are here today to dedicate a memorial to those who fought in that battle. In order to truly honour them, it is not enough to hold a funeral, however grand and solemn, or to decorate the living with high honours. Those are ceremonies, one and done. Important, and well deserved, no doubt, but not enough."

Harry looked up at the audience. "To truly honour those who fought here, we must remember. This memorial is a token of that, but that token must be based on reality. This battle did not just happen. A long train of events brought us to such a desperate place. Even Time-Turners do not allow us to change the past, but we can learn from it. We can remember the things done and left undone that brought this struggle into being, and we can ensure that we do not repeat those mistakes."

Harry swept his arm toward the memorial. "We can consecrate a monument, but this ground is already consecrated by the courage of those who came to protect the heart of our Realm, the hope of our future. Many of them came from far across our world. The Dragon War taught us some very important lessons. To desire peace is not enough. It must be watched over, guarded against those who do not desire peace. Much has been done. Alliances have been forged, forces raised. Much remains to be done."

Harry glanced down at his notes, then back up again at the audience. "The true memorial of a war is a lasting peace. Such a peace is not a free gift, nor to be had by any one time of valour and sacrifice, however great. It is built a day at a time, a choice at a time, an act at a time, by those who remember."

"Let us remember." He said. The crowd fell silent as a mellow chime rang out.

Hermione Granger's voice called out, "Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts."

Another chime. "Ronald Weasley. Commander of Dumbledore's Army."

The list went on. In silence, the peoples of the Magical World remembered, not only on the battlefield of Hogwarts but everywhere that the Wizarding Wireless could carry that roll of honour.

Arthur Weasley's normally cheerful face was downcast, which certainly fit with the solemnity of this occasion, but there was more to it than that.

"Sorry, Harry. Business." He said.

Harry nodded, and they stepped away to where they could speak privately. Harry wondered which of the several pots that Magical Cooperation was watching had decided to boil over at this inconvenient juncture. Of course, there was never a good time for such issues. Harry's definition of what constituted a crisis was a lot stiffer than it had been before the war.

"China." Arthur said.

Harry nodded. This was an ongoing issue. He'd taken it up and pushed it against the attitude of a lot of people that sleeping dragons should be let alone. The Celestial Empire of Chi'in was a huge question mark in the landscape of the magical world. They were isolationist to a degree that made MACUSA look warm and welcoming. What Harry knew of their capabilities and intentions was far less than he was comfortable with. It was, in fact, as close to zero as the Chinese could make it. Harry was determined to change that.

"Where are we?" Harry said.

"We sent a formal letter of proposal for talks at the Ministerial level through their delegate to the ICW, which is really the only means of communication with their government. It was a bit of a chore persuading him to do that, even. He might as well be under an Imperius for all the ability he has to decide anything for himself. The talks have been going on for a week, now, on neutral ground. We're at a total impasse. They're talking about going home tomorrow. You weighing in personally is about our last chance to break the logjam." Arthur said. His tone added doubt that even that would work.

"So, what's their position?" Harry said.

"They want us whole collection of unwashed barbarians to go away and leave the Higher Celestial Empire to bask in its total perfection." Arthur replied.

"You sound a little bitter." Harry observed.

"That's not a comment, Harry. It's a translation." Arthur replied.

"On the record?" Harry said.

Arthur shook his head. "Side conversation, but we were meant to overhear it. That's the attitude we're dealing with."

"That's unhelpful." Harry said.

If the man the goblins had christened Steelyeye was at such a place, then indeed this was a hard problem. Harry wasn't sure how much help he could be, but he owed Arthur Weasley ... much. On the monument he had just dedicated, there were four that ended in Weasley. By the cruel and fickle fortune of war only one of them was wreathed in laurel. It could easily have been more.

"How much time do we have?" Harry said, moving on to practicalities.

"The next formal session is in three hours. That will be a couple of hours, then there'll be a break. That's when you go into play. We make sure they don't know you're there before that." Arthur said.

"Shouldn't I be at the formal session?" Harry asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No. The formal session is where everyone states their official position, at length. Actual business, deals, proposals, get floated during the breaks."

Harry looked puzzled. "Odd."

Arthur said, "Does seem that way, but there's a reason for it. What's said on the record is your official position. Changing it requires the authority of your government, directly or granted to the Ambassador. What's said over tea cups isn't. You can bring out an idea or float a proposal, and if it doesn't work there's no harm done."

The room was a grand one, luxurious. It was normally a hotel ballroom, but had been refurnished for this occasion. The tables for the formal talks were carefully laid out, with precise attention to detail to ensure that there would be no cause for offense taken. It would not require much for the Chinese delegation to blow up into an excuse to terminate the talks and leave, which was what they wanted to do.

The Chinese delegation finished restating their official position, which added up to, "Go away and stop bothering us."

The moderator called for a break, which the leaders of both delegations agreed to. There were two rest areas, scrupulously equal in fittings, and a common area where refreshments and snacks were available.

Harry waited behind a curtain, then strode out from behind it at Arthur's nod. He headed for the common area and got himself a cup of tea. It was good tea. He added a little honey, not looking at or acknowledging the other people in the common area.

The Ambassador of the Higher Celestial Empire looked up from his own teacup, brought to him by a servant with proper attention to his precise requirements, to see who had joined them in the common area where informal talks took place. He was careful to maintain the proper stoic face of an envoy of the Celestial Empire before barbarians in the face of an unexpected and unwelcome surprise.

Harry Potter was no diplomat, and he was certainly not dressed for a diplomatic function. He wore the black dragon leathers that he had worn as the Warlord of the Magical World during the Dragon War. That earthquake event had been sufficient to get the attention even of the Court of the Celestial Emperor, which was why the Ambassador was here treating with barbarians in the first place.

The messages did not end there. Potter getting his own tea rather than summoning a servant meant that he considered himself a soldier in the field, because fighting men did not have servants. That alone put paid to the complacent assumption of the conservative faction at Court that the military alliance, the Magical Allied Treaty Organization, would go back to the comfortable pre-war complacency of its member nations. Potter was the founding father and Britain the keystone of that alliance. His voice would be heard and heeded in those councils.

Potter brought his teacup directly over to the Ambassador, sipped from it, and said, "Good afternoon, Ambassador."

He expects me to know who he is. Another message, that the Warlock was not going to accept the notion that China was indifferent to the outside world.

"Warlock. An unexpected pleasure, that you should take time from your many duties to be here." The Ambassador replied. The unexpected part was true.

"This is one of my duties, Ambassador. These talks are important, both to me in my personal capacity and to those I represent." Potter replied.

The dragon may sleep, but it does so lightly, with one eye open. The Ambassador realized that he was looking into the eye of that dragon.

"Surely there is no need for your personal attention in such a minor matter, Warlock. I assure you that the Celestial Empire desires only peace." The Ambassador said, smoothly.

"As do I, and those I represent, Ambassador. Still, we have concerns. I have concerns. We have been through a very bad time, because we accepted the unsupported word of another nation that they meant us no harm. That nation no longer exists, but those memories remain. To allay those concerns requires more than just words." Potter said.

The Ambassador hung an expression of polite inquiry on his face while his mind raced. Even in an informal setting, to ask the next question was a risk. He now considered that not asking it was the greater risk.

"What might allay those concerns, Warlock?" He asked.

"For now, an exchange of embassies. If we have reports from the eyes and ears of people we trust, to tell us that the Celestial Empire bears no hostile intent toward us, that will go some ways to allay our concerns. You, of course, would have the same benefit concerning our intentions." Potter replied.

We can no longer simply ignore this. Potter was a young man, and those who had underestimated him on that score had, some of them, lived to regret it. His predecessor's tenure had been as long as the current Celestial Emperor's. He had the time to play a long game. It now was evident that he had the determination, as well.

"An interesting proposal. To implement it would, assuming that the Celestial Emperor agreed to it, take some time." The Ambassador replied.

Potter nodded, his face as controlled as the Ambassador's own. "The Councils on which I have the honour to sit, the ICW Security Council and the Council of MATO, will meet again in a month's time. This matter among others will be on their agendas. It would be helpful if I had some evidence of real progress in this matter to report to them. If there is none, then we would have to consider what further measures might be needed."

A month. Clearly he does not know the bureaucracy of the Empire. If he did, I doubt if he would care. Potter's reputation for swift decision and decisive action ran before him. The Ambassador began to consider ways and means. This would have to go to the Son of Heaven himself, by channels that bypassed the bureaucracy. The conservatives would do their best to block it, even so.

Embassies. That is a larger concession than it looks. The Ambassador had heard rumours of a new and disturbingly efficient espionage system based in Britain. Still, there was not much for spies to find. The Empire was not contemplating any action against MATO, and on further thought it was better for all concerned if they knew that from sources that they trusted.

"I do assure you, Warlock, that the Empire appreciates that peace is a great treasure." The Ambassador said, by way of disengaging from this conversation.

Cold determination overlaid the control of the Warlock's expression. "So it is, Ambassador. It is so great a treasure that it must always be attended by a guard of warriors."

Potter put down his almost untouched cup of tea, and left without further ceremony.

Not a diplomat. He can, however, make a point. The Ambassador reflected. He turned to go. His official statement would have to be re-crafted with care.

Harry had changed out of his leathers and was having a cup of tea that he could actually drink when Arthur came back out of the session, smiling. "It worked, Harry. Talks on exchange of embassies in a month's time."

"Good. I'd say that makes it a lot less likely that they are a threat, and if they know they're being watched it's less likely that they'll become one." Harry said.

"Never-ending job." Arthur replied.

Harry looked at his watch and drank the rest of his tea. "I have to go. I can't be late for the dedication of the memorial to Dumbledore."

"I'm afraid that I can't make that one." Arthur said.

Harry nodded. "Understood. We can build memorials of stone, but peace is the real memorial. This was a small brick, but that's how you build them."

Harry headed back down to the Portkey station. Building this memorial was going to take the rest of his life, but it was work worth doing. He wouldn't be alone. Jane was waiting for him.