James Potter was a playboy. His father hated it, but there you had it. If your parents hated the way you were, you had to be onto something.
Like right now. Here he was, in his parents’ house, with some pretty little thing just graduated from Hogwarts. They were making out, and he was carefully working his hand around to her voluptuous bottom.
“James…”
“Mmm.” He was kissing on her neck now.
“Do you think we need to talk about…you know, our relationship?”
“What better way is there to talk about it?”
She giggled. “Good point.” She took off her blouse.
Then the door banged open. The girl squealed and nudged closer to James. James shrank back. There was the old man himself, back from a night at the Cauldron. He didn’t smell like butterbeer, oddly enough.
“Cover up, you two. I’m getting my broomstick out of the cupboard.” Agape, James watched his father walk over to the cupboard, pull out the new model Shooting Star he used instead of the now-antiquated Firebolt, and walk back out the door “ without ever looking at either of them.
That wasn’t his father’s way of anger. His dad would usually explode when he found James with a girl like he was, but tonight he hadn’t said a thing. Something was on his mind.
James looked at the girl. “Shall we continue?”
She pulled her blouse back on in a flash. “I’ve…got to go.” And she went.
Damn. He knew he’d never see her again. What had just happened, with such bad timing, was enough to freak anybody out.
* * * * *
Harry Potter flew alone over the lands of Britain, his thoughts far away. Maybe he should go see Ginny, tell her why he was acting the way he was and try to repair what they had lost. Maybe he should go talk to Ron “ but no, they’d probably get drunk together and the problems wouldn’t go away. Maybe he should talk to Hermione instead and listen to her cool logic “ but it was too logical, and the last thing Harry needed right now was a logical course of action. He was on his own.
He descended in the heart of London, and just walked around in the streets, kicking stones out of his way and just thinking. Ginny was in the Ministry, working late tonight. He could go see her right now…maybe that was the best thing to do, after all.
Speeding up his steps, Harry rounded a corner “ and saw a crowd of people in front of an electronics store.
How odd. It’s the middle of the night. There were cars parked by the curbs of the street and people pouring out of them, hurrying over to the shop.
Early morning sale? But Harry knew that wasn’t it. Somehow, he just knew. He hurried up enough to shove his way through the crowd and see what they were looking at: several large-screen televisions, each showing the same picture “ a cold face in a black suit glaring out from in front of a red flag with a yellow star on it. The caption beneath him read, “Chairman Axai Khan of the People’s Republic of China.”
“ “ the western imperialists. They have held our people in hostage long enough, controlling our centers of commerce as they controlled our cities at the turn of the 20th century. Western-owned companies hold too much of our industry. Today, we reclaim it!”
Harry took in a sharp breath. He didn’t know how, but he knew all of a sudden “ this was the man he had seen in that dream, months ago. That dream he could barely remember, even now. What was going on?
“By my executive order, all foreign industries and investments in China are being seized indefinitely, and the perpetrators of slavery with them. We will finally control our own destiny, and free our nation from the chains it has been bound in. These are our words; take heed.”
A female newscaster popped up as soon as the film clip ended. Harry noticed the caption at the bottom. The BBC? Not some crackpot show, then. This means trouble in the Muggle world, you can be sure of that.
“That was President Axai Khan last evening. At eight o’ clock this morning, several factories owned by Hasbro and Chevrolet were seized by Chinese troops, along with all the workers. This appears to be only the beginning of the mass takeover of foreign industry by China.”
Harry had heard enough. He walked away quickly, all thought of Ginny gone from his mind, to the place he had hidden his broomstick. It seemed like just a Muggle political thing, troubling to be sure, but he wouldn’t worry about it “ except for the fact that his scar was tinging again. It hadn’t felt like this since Voldemort, and this was no early-morning haze.
Something was very wrong.
* * * * *
William Finnigan sat in his office on an oil rig in the South China Sea, eating his sandwich. Here, it was afternoon, and it seemed as if nothing was going to happen today. Despite that kook Chinese President or whatever making those statements, he didn’t seem to care about a small British-owned oil rig out in what was almost international waters.
One of his coworkers walked in. “Oy, Bill.”
“What’s happening, Stanley?”
“The government’s telling us to evacuate. The boss says we’re leaving tonight, under cover of darkness.”
“We’d better start…” Then William became aware of a low drone coming in from the north. “What’s that sound?”
Stanley walked out of the tiny room and looked out the window. “Holy Jesus, Bill, come take a look at this!”
William jumped up and peeked out the doorway. Sure enough, there were several large airplanes flying directly toward the oil rig.
“We aren’t supposed to be evacuated until tonight,” protested Stanley.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, man.”
The planes finally drew over the oil rig “ and from each one blossomed twenty parachutes.
“Oh bloody hell.”
Men were yelling and running all across the rig, and alarms were blaring. Some men grabbed shotguns from a small locker and ran out with them, but as soon as the paratroops landed, machine guns began crackling, and anybody oil worker that held a firearm died on the spot.
But there were not only bullets to be worried about. Besides the fifty or so Chinese Commandos in camouflage, there were a few others “ men and women “ in flowing robes, brandishing small sticks that apparently shot lasers.
Or that was how it would have seemed to anyone that was not the brother of a wizard.
William ran back into his office and pulled out a cell phone. No service. He reached for a wall phone. No dial tone.
Only one other way to get a message out.
Frantically unlocking his personal file drawer, William yanked out a small looking glass. Rubbing it frantically, he called his brother’s name, “Seamus!”
Seamus Finnigan’s face appeared in the mirror. “Hello, Will. What’s…”
“We’re being attacked on the oil rig! Some of them are Chinese troops, and some are your kind! We need help!”
“My kind! Do you mean…”
But a Stunning Spell soon smashed into William’s back, and he knew no more.
Legacy of the Phoenix: Juggernaut by The Webspinner
Chapter Notes: I hope this isn't too rushed. And that's all I've got to say about that.