WHO: Sturgis Podmore and Dedalus Diggle WHERE: Department of Half-Blood Monitoring WHEN: Sunday night, very late into the night. WHAT: A declaration of war.
At this point, there was no going back.
Sturgis Podmore, once an upstanding citizen (convicted felon, destroyer of records) and all-around great guy, has now officially hit the bottom of his barrel (false bottom. He still had quite a ways to fall). There he stood, side by side with another convicted felon, ready to set fire to one of the most important pieces of the new administration’s order. If they got caught, there was nothing that would prevent them from getting a sentence worse than death. Sturgis' brilliance might have, but the administration likely wouldn't be desperate enough to keep him on to solve their Mysteries problems after a setback of this order.
Large setbacks. That’s where Danger Diggle came into play.
For Diggle, it wasn’t his first rodeo. Acts of “liberation,” as he called them, was one of his specialties that he did so well before his stay in Azkaban. And after 15 years, even though the methods and targets changed, the methods still remain the same. The objective: set the Department of Half-Blood Monitoring on fire in a way that would drive them away from the usual suspects. Of course, Danger immediately thought of using Muggle accelerant that would light it up like Guy Fawkes day. Sturgis, however, reminded him that this would be much too obvious. Far more better to plan it so that the cause would take a while to determine, and might have been accidental. As they stood there, able to sneak in using Sturgis’ knowledge of the building and its layout, Sturgis went over the plan once more – meticulously calculated and deviated like a symphony of destruction. IT was simple enough to calculate, start it small and let patience build it up, only to tear down - a rise and fall that would echo for a long time. All they could hope was that the echo didn't see an innocent man or woman go to Black or Crouch for their crime.
A risk last taken in 1993. A risk they take now. Sturgis wasn't sure how to feel. Freedom's just another name for nothing left to lose, right? This, this was a liberation the Wizarding world hadn't seen in 17 years.
Danger was still sore from the lashings he received for alluding that he lived at a Muggle address. But it didn’t stop him from flipping the hood of his cloak over his face, and raising his wand like a maestro approaching his symphony.
"Let’s burn this fecker down," Danger sneered, a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips.
"For freedom," Sturgis added quietly, so quietly he didn't think Danger could hear him.
This was Sturgis’ show - his meticulously calculated show that he would have to recalculate for on the fly if anything didn't go according to the plan. This was the Order. Nothing ever went according to plan. Sturgis walked in expecting to recalculate, replan, everything but redo. Yes, this was Sturgis' plan. Danger was just a player in the show.
As Danger Diggle commanded the flames with his wand, swaying to the music in his head, he did everything as Sturgis lead. Every stroke, every flame, every intentionally started fire was according to the particular equations and plans that Sturgis made in order to make this look as accidental as possible - and trust Sturgis, it wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded. Patience, carefully controlled burns, all leading to a final cacophony of flame - what wouldn't go wrong with that? But Sturgis had one thing no other Arithmancy in the entire world could have while planning this. Sturgis had Dedalus Danger Diggle with him. They did have some room for mistakes. If it didn’t look accidental – it would look amateur enough to throw the authorities far off the beaten path and hopefully keep some people out of the cells. Hopefully. If not, Sturgis would throw himself on the figurative fire, a full confession of crimes. Danger wouldn't need to, Danger could try, but Danger couldn't walk them through the plan.
So Sturgis pointed and directed, and played the numbers and probabilities back in his head. They backed out of the Department, the room singing with flame. Danger danced with the flames. He took particular glee in watching their records about who was doing what crumble to the heat. He romanced the licks of fire as they tore through the department – every one coming closer to liberating a free England. After all, nobody should be given a brand. Nobody should live in fear of their government. Instead, governments should be afraid of their people. The ink burned last, the parchment throwing itself to the dry air, leaving a jumbled mess of words behind, words that would take ages to sort out - some words that were likely lost forever.
The two conspirators only had a moment to admire their work. An entire department, engulfed in flames, brought to their knees by the most unlikely arson team in the world. There was a grin of satisfaction that the glow of the fire reflected on Danger’s face, as he watched all their work go up in flames.
“Put me in feckin’ A-Division, will ye?” he called out to the fire. “Well feck you! And feck your records!”
Sturgis wasn't as gleeful as Danger was, wasn't as eager to call to the flames as they licked through everything in their path. No doubt someone had been alerted by now. No doubt they'd silence the flames. They couldn't silence the smoke and the ash, they couldn't redo any of it. Sturgis watched files turn to piles of ash, watched the names of the impure bleed into the air - they were free. They were, for the time it took to put the Department back together - good and truly free.
"For freedom," he said again quietly, again so quietly he did not think that Danger could hear him. Sturgis knew he'd only have the same feeling of satisfaction that Danger did once they both could stand as true liberators, stand in the atrium as Voldemort had and declare a free society. It wouldn't bring his wife and daughter back, but it would give freedom to people permanently. It would be the start of something truly amazing.
It was time. Sturgis and Diggle escaped the way Sturgis had planned – in a way that would leave them undetected. They needed to avoid more than just paintings in the Ministry, and Sturgis had spent the past 6 years learning every tile of the place and how it moved. He wanted to destroy a different Department, the one that held him in bondage, but that time would come later. He could be content with this liberation, though it was only temporary. The phantoms of the night made their escape, leaving the mission complete. The damage was done.
And hopefully – just maybe – this would be enough to leave the government crippled in their persecution of innocent folks for enough time for the Order to slide more pieces into play.