A/N. Greetings!
Am behind sched and also on review replies - my apologies. Summer craziness began and nothing beats 2 boys not in school when it comes to sucking energy from you :) . Summer camps are pure genius.
Not quite what I thought I would write but I just go with the flow. I tried to look into who actually chooses the next Minister but my limited time and research skills brought me to a dead end so am assuming a lot here. Hope I can be forgiven if I'm not exactly right.
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Chapter 59 - Politicking
Leila Gennaro was crankier than usual. Since her boss was sacked she had been relegated to do menial tasks within the Ministry secretarial pool and she he wasn't sure how much more of the demotion she could take.
She supposed she was lucky they hadn't fired her, or worse, put her in jail. She had answered Humptail's and Trussel's pointy questions as best she could, telling them the truth that, as far as she knew, Auror Potter was overseas doing his job. For her own protection she had always only been privy to the administrative aspects of her boss' schedule.
She was worried about him. In many ways the young Head Auror was the closest person to a relative she had. It was the only reason she had decided to stick around. She could at least help him if he needed help, though really, she didn't know how.
"Are you coming, Leila?" one of the assistants asked, while the others in the small group were getting ready to leave.
"In a minute. I'll see you there," she replied.
They were all headed to the main Wizengamot courtroom balcony to witness the selection of the next Minister. Leila hoped the Wizengamot would be wise enough not to choose Humptail. While she had never worked for the wizard, the dodgy stuff he was involved in during his tenure were numerous and pervasive, most of it they had to clean up.
Finally she was alone. She made her way over to the desk of the assistant supporting the Minister's office and quickly scanned for anything unusual or illegal. Thinking of which she couldn't help the anxiety. Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't concentrate. She had never done anything covert like this in her life!
Tap!Tap!
She jumped at the sound, knocking a potted plant over and it crashed on the floor.
"I'm so sorry! I -"
Leila stopped her guilt ridden confession when she recognized who it was.
"I didn't mean to startle you," Hermione Granger said to her, repairing the broken pot as Leila still stood frozen in shock, "We've never exchanged pleasantries in the past so I won't even bother. We don't have much time and I need your help."
Leila regarded Ms. Granger's request and couldn't think what she might need.
"Will it get Mr. Potter his job back?" she asked what the most important thing to her was.
"Harry doesn't need help to get his job back," Granger replied in a knowing tone, one that always annoyed Leila, "This is me asking you a favour for myself."
"Why would I help you?"
"Because even though you don't like me you're a decent human being, loyal to your Ministry and your country," Granger took out a phial with a silvery grey substance, poured it into a memory reader and handed the screen to her, "And your Ministry and country needs you."
Mostly out of curiosity she took the object and looked at the images that played before her. She gasped.
"Is that -?"
"The current Minister using the AK on me with Salazar Malvado beside him," Granger confirmed.
The memory was not from Granger's point of view but from someone who was in close proximity to Malvado and Humptail, someone who had a clear vantage point of where the curses were aimed at.
"It could be tampered memory."
"He will say that it is. It isn't."
Leila didn't doubt her because her boss wouldn't, and she trusted her boss implicitly.
"You can't just accuse the Minister. It'll be your word against his."
Granger wasn't stupid.
"That's why I need your help," she answered back and gave her a list of names, "I need certain members of the Wizengamot to see this and soon."
Her role in this suddenly became clear. Leila, in her capacity as assistant to the Head Auror, had direct access to those in the Wizengamot Auror Potter had good working relations with.
Granger asked, "Can you do it?"
"How soon?"
"Before the deliberation. Tell them I will bring proof to the meeting. And give them this warning of what Humptail intends to do. I trust them all to act accordingly when that happens."
The meeting was less than an hour away and there were twelve names on the list. She took the parchment with neat handwriting and went over it quickly, believing its contents to be true. At that point she couldn't know and not do anything. Also, if she did it, Granger would owe her. She'd been waiting for years for that to happen.
Leila was on a mission.
"Consider it done."
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Al wiped the newly formed beads of sweat off his forehead and downed half of the ice cold water in his glass. He looked across the table at Rosie who was doing the same. They both just had showers and were taking a rest at one of the huts, the one that belonged to Warren Gates. Class was dismissed for the day as everyone else was helping in the preparations for the village celebration.
Rosie had been uncharacteristically quiet since coming back from class.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Mum's going to send me to Shell Cottage when she gets back," Rosie replied, sullen and miserable already.
"You want to be here when it happens?"
"I'm crazy but not that insane. I hope it never happens," Rosie admitted, "I just don't want to be in Shell Cottage with all the family there."
"You're thinking too much. I'm sure no one blames you for any of this."
"Lily won't even talk to me."
"She doesn't blame you. Don't take it personally. She's not talking to anyone."
"I don't want to be there when they rip my Mum and drag her character through the mud."
The Weasley wives could be unforgiving, that much Al knew just from hearing what went on during family gatherings. They'd probably give his Dad the same courtesy. He didn't want to be around for that either.
"They'll eventually get tired of it," he tried to make her feel better, "Or maybe they'll be over it by the time we get there."
She playfully criticized him, "Optimistic fool."
"Pathological pessimist," he retorted.
Rosie grew serious as she told him, "If I haven't said it yet, thanks for staying here with me."
She already did, many times.
"You're welcome."
"Do you think it was my Mum's fault?"
Al thought about it for a while but the answer was simple.
He nodded and said, "And my Dad's."
"Are you angry at her for what's happened?"
"Not really. I probably should be but Aunt Hermione has always been good to us. And she's always stood by Dad that I kind of feel bad for her. It must have been brutal when Dad decided to stay with Mum. I was angrier at my Dad when he first told us, you know, for hurting Mum. But Mum isn't angry at him, at least she isn't anymore. Actually, come to think of it, I've never remembered her or even seen her angry at him."
"Aunt Ginny is a saint," Rosie concluded, sharing his admiration for how his Mum was handling the situation, "Are you mad at Uncle Harry now?"
"Not so much. I figure it's useless to be angry. I just want us all to move on. I want it all fixed, for everyone to get along."
"Like it never happened."
"Exactly."
"Me too," Rosie replied quietly.
Even though she didn't say, the tone in her voice wasn't positive at all. Al shared her lack of optimism this time. Things were never going back to the way they were. They both realized that but neither wanted to say it, perhaps on the off chance that a miracle would happen and they didn't want to jinx it.
"Anybody home?" someone was calling from outside the house. "Hugo? Are you up there?"
Rosie got up and went down the wooden steps to the main living area to meet the caller. Al followed closely behind.
"Hiya Pink Rose!" greeted a blond, Caucasian teenager.
"Spencer, right?" Rosie confirmed.
"That and whatever other name you want to call me," the flirtation grated on Al's skin unpleasantly.
"Wolfie it is," Rosie teased back. Al hated being around Rosie when she got hormonal. She continued, "Hugo isn't here. Hi Isa."
Rosie greeted the girl behind 'Wolfie'. Al couldn't see her face as his view was obscured by the boy's broad shoulders.
"Hi Rose. Love what you've done with the hair," Isa greeted back, her voice easy and sweet and she actually sounded like she meant what she said about Rosie's hair.
Isa took a step forward and all of sudden, beyond any expectation, Al found himself face to face with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life.
And she was smiling warmly at him. She spoke.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"I'm Isa, Hugo's friend. Spencer and I go to school with him."
"Hi."
"You must be Albus."
"Yes."
His reply was followed by a deafening silence. That was it?! That was all he could come up with?! He was talking with the most beautiful girl he had ever met in his life and all he could think of to say were three single words?
Al felt like an idiot. She must think he was an idiot. He'd have to kick himself later. Isa turned her attention to Rosie, asking her how she was. It sounded like they met over the summer.
"Spencer," the other friend introduced himself.
"Al," he replied, barely putting a thought while they shook hands.
Spencer went back to flirting with Rosie, asking her about Hugo again. Al just stood there mesmerized by Isa's face, radiant as she listened to Rosie's answer attentively. She was about five two, with long, silky, black hair and smooth, light brown skin. Her eyes slanted up on the edges somewhat, complimenting a delicate nose and a perfect mouth. She was breathtaking. He could watch her all day - forever even.
Then she glanced up at him, their gaze meeting only fleetingly because he felt like he was doing something wrong and he had to look away. But not before she made a burning impression in his memory. Her eyes were warm and a rich, hazelnut brown.
There was an intense uncontrollable fluttering in his stomach. Butterflies, a gazillion mini butterflies.
For lack of knowledge on what to do (and for fear of doing more idiotic things), he excused himself and headed out of the house, walking fast and as far away from her as he could.
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"Ron, Ron," a familiar somewhat irritating female voice was calling him, "Wake up, Ron."
He was being nudged too. Purposely, he ignored it, seeking to go back to the deep, restful slumber.
"Ron, Ron -"
The soothing rhythmic sound of waves gently crashing against white beach lulling him -
"Ron!"
"What?!" he finally answered, opening his eyes then abruptly shielding them from the bright wand light right in front of him, "Get that thing away!"
As it moved back it shone on the face of someone he didn't quite expect to see.
"Ghost!!" he yelped, getting up and jumping away suddenly from a sitting position, his head and back hitting the hard surface of what was a tunnel the size of a crawlspace.
The image of a crouched Hermione just looked at him with annoyance, "Honestly Ron!"
"Hermione?!"
"Since when did you develop a fear for ghosts?"
"Is that really you?"
Ron couldn't believe his eyes. His arm went up, finger pointed and he started poking her; her cheek, her shoulder, her -
"If you poke me one more time I'm going to hex you to prove I'm real," she threatened under her breath.
It was definitely Hermione, the genuine one, not the zombie who gave him the shaft. He took in his surroundings and reality set in.
"What's going on? What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Where the fuck is here?!"
"We're under the main Wizengamot courtroom," Hermione explained, pointing her lit wand up the low ceiling. She paused for a few seconds and they could actually hear the buzz of incoherent talking, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm just fine," he replied, the bottled up resentment he had put off by her concern. He wanted to say all the things he had been thinking to say since he clued in to the possibility that she was alive, but he couldn't until he asked, "Where's Ernie? I was just with him."
"I asked a friend to take him to a safe place. We found both of you passed out in the Ministry dungeons."
The Ministry what?! The last thing he remembered was chatting with free Willy about using the emergency elevator. He could use more details but really, how he ended up here and where Ernie was wasn't as important anymore.
"What the fuck is going on, Hermione?! We all thought you were dead!"
"I'm obviously not," she answered then headed off his next thought, defensive, "And no, I didn't fake my own death to let Hugo do what he did on his own. I was out for a while and couldn't send word."
Of course she would never do that to Hugo but Ron would have accused her still just to get under her skin. It was irritating that he lost that opportunity.
"I can't believe - !"
"Ron," she interrupted again, her tone more gentle and less abrasive than usual as she touched his arm, "I know you want to scream and yell at me for what I did to you and what I did to Hugo You have every right to. It was wrong to let you volunteer to be Hugo's father and I do feel guilty about taking advantage of the goodness of your heart. I had my reasons but not one of them will help make you feel less hurt than you are right now.
"And what Harry and I did was wrong. We both knew that and that's why it had to stop. It happened a very long time ago and Ginny, Harry and I are all past it. I couldn't tell you, more so when I decided not to tell Harry about Hugo, and I'm really sorry for making you feel like an idiot. It wasn't my intention to."
Ron opened his mouth but he lost his train of thought and had to shut it. He was speechless, as if he had already said everything he wanted to say. Hermione continued.
"If you still want to yell and scream at me I'm good with that, though I'd really appreciate it if you did it later. The Wizengamot's about to choose the new Minister and I'm going to need your help in a few minutes."
Hermione had let go of his arm and was handing him his wand. Ron had to think as she waited for a response. Her apology was sincere and her admission of wrongdoing was surprising. More shocking and a record of sorts was not once in her monologue did she insult him. She knew exactly how he felt; she understood. That hadn't happened in, well, frankly ever. Dammit! She was really good at heading him off! He couldn't lecture her, not after that.
"So, I can yell at you later?" he verified., irked at himself for feeling the way he did and at her for ruining his meticulously thought out diatribe..
"I promise I won't interrupt."
"That I have to see," Ron snatched his wand from her and pouted, wagging it at her, "We're not done with this."
"It would be so unlike us if we were," she knowingly commented with her usual tinge of sarcasm.
Ron was comforted by their return to normalcy. The sound of a gavel hammering three times up above signalled the start of the proceedings.
Ron turned to Hermione and asked, "What is it that you'd like me to do?"
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Harry could feel about a dozen pairs of eyes on him and more wands.. While he was confident that he would win the 12 to 1 fight, he had no intention of firing a curse. Well, unless he really had to.
He looked straight at Dunk Dillidingbat, his right hand waiting for the wand. He had his spare primed to summon it but he figured it was better to give the guy a choice. The MLE veteran, caught between a rock and a hard place, gave in.
"Thank you," Harry nodded and the MLE officer did the same, relieved.
"Harry!" Hank called out to him from the back row behind two beefy law enforcers, "Don't even think about it!"
He pocketed his main weapon and turned around to face them. He counted fifteen (so he was off a bit), standing twenty feet away. All of them had either worked for him or with him, most of them he had hired himself. Even though they were poised to curse, none of them were really mentally prepared to hex him, at least he didn't think so. Of course, he could be wrong.
"Don't think about what, Hank?" he asked as he leaned back against the table without a worry, his arms folded across his chest.
The question caught Hank off guard and he began to stammer, "Well, uh, about causing trouble here. We're uh- placing you under arrest."
Harry chuckled, "Are you sure? Who do you mean by 'we'?"
"We!" he motioned about, riled up by his confidence.
"I hate to be the one to break this to you but they're not going to arrest me," Harry stated, their true loyalties now surfacing with what he just said.
Hank's eyes darted to his right and left, assessing the situation.
"I wanted to discuss this misunderstanding with Leo but I guess I'll have to take it up with the interim Minister," Harry replied, "Where is the git anyway?"
"You do not call him names! The Minister demands respect-!"
"He can demand all he wants. He's not getting it from me."
"Arrest him!" the order came and as Harry expected, not one made a move. Predictably, Hank threatened, "Refusing to follow an order from a superior is considered treason! Arrest him!"
When his command still fell on deaf ears Hank made the errant decision of attacking him. Several hexes came from different directions. The haze settled and the current Head Auror found himself hogtied and muzzled, struggling out of the binds.
Harry approached his team and one of the more senior Aurors asked, "What would you like us to do with him?"
"Lock him up and have him watched," he decided swiftly, "Any sign of Ron?"
"None so far. Nor Mr. McMillan."
"Ernie was with him?"
"Since this morning."
Ginny told him what happened at the Pitch. That didn't make sense.
"And Humptail?"
"At the Wizengamot," someone informed.
That was actually good. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. However, he did have to decide how far to let his anger loose on the asshole without disrespecting the Wizengamot.
"I need two men to come with me," Harry ordered, then, after he picked two from those who volunteered, turned to the senior Auror, "Set up the rest to monitor the perimeter. Let's keep the lock down until the dust clears."
With that he took the two Aurors and headed for the lifts.
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Tiberius Tudor pounded the gavel hard, the three strikes echoing several times around the four walls of the Wizengamot. As Chief Warlock for the last four years his leadership had been tested a few times but not like he knew it would be today.
The scene in front of him was a zoo; his job today was to be zookeeper. The collapse in the London Ministry leadership was to blame. First, the sacking of a well respected Head Auror, then the resignation of an ailing Minister, the same one who sacked him. Tiberius had a very bad feeling about all of it but until Harry Potter showed up to answer questions, he could do nothing.
"This session is now in order," his baritone voice pierced through the hum of disorganized chatter. Quiet now, all eyes were upon him, "We are here today to find a suitable replacement for former Minister Leonidas Jericho. I acknowledge the presence of Interim Minister Hosiah Humptail, members of his cabinet as well as the audience up in the gallery."
"As a rule, only wizards or witches of British citizenship fifty years and older with good legal standing and without past criminal convictions are eligible to participate in this process. Minister Humptail has asked me to preside to avoid conflict of interest and has informed me that he is waiving his right for automatic nomination."
There were murmurs from the crowd. That was unexpected. Tiberius glanced at the emotionless temporary leader, thinking that it was smart of him to realize that he would never get chosen to be Minister, not by the current Wizengamot. It was unlikely that he would get an endorsement. Removing himself from competition would save both time and embarrassment.
The seventy member assembly, in perfect attendance today, began putting forth nominations. In the first minute names of two prominent elders in the Wizengamot came up - Colin Zabini and Samuel Greengrass. He expected them to be frontrunners. The Hogwarts Headmistress, Septima Vector, considered the dark horse, was in there too, and a distant fourth was the St. Mungo Head Healer, Gwendolyn Abbott.
Then, something unexpected happened. Colin Zabini took the floor.
The Wizengamot veteran spoke in an odd voice, "I respectfully decline the nomination. In the interest of providing a smooth transition. I am throwing my full support behind my colleague, Mr. Greengrass."
That seemed to draw approval from the crowd and all but sealed a Greengrass victory. He would need approval from a majority and he already had that. As a review of the nominees and their various accomplishments occurred, Tiberius was gaining hope that the process wouldn't be as painful as he originally thought.
"Let's put this to a vote," he announced.
Old man Jonas McMillan stood up and made a motion, "In view of the sudden series of events that has brought us here, I move that we take a recess to give us time to reflect on our choice for our next Minister."
"I second the motion," Constance Lightglow concurred.
Gerry Millhill, a staunch Greengrass supporter rebutted, "This is a deliberate attempt to delay the inevitable and for what? To lobby for votes for the Hogwarts Headmistress? Or maybe Old Man Jonas fancies getting someone to nominate him too."
"What exactly do you mean by that?!"
Tempers flared, more members joined in the attempt to delay the proceedings even as supporters of Zabini and Greengrass argued for it to continue.
It was an embarrassment to all. He was pounding hard and no one was hearing him. The gallery was amused, the participants oblivious. The undecided Wizengamot members were waiting by the sidelines to see in which direction the power would swing to so they could align themselves to that faction.
In the midst of the chaos, Tiberius noted Harry Potter's arrival. Observing from the back row to the right of the stage, the Auror's eyes swept the scene and then settled on the Minister, watching Hosiah Humptail like a hawk about to go for the kill. It was not difficult to conclude that Potter was pissed at the current Minister and understandably so. Sending Aurors to the Potter house and harassing the Potter family was not a very well thought out move. The Minister, who had been in intense concentration since the motion to postpone the voting was made, noticed Potter too and became ill at ease for the first time that night.
Meanwhile, it was still up to him as Chief Warlock to control the mob.
"Silence!" Tiberius bellowed, a first, and because it was the first it surprised everyone.
No one dared defy his cry for order. Once that was established, he took the necessary steps to regain control of the proceedings.
"Clear the gallery! The rest of the selection process will be behind closed doors!"
His decision was absolute. He watched the audience leave, many muttering complaints as the heavy wooden doors closed behind them. Hosiah was fidgety, casting furtive glances to the entrance furthest away from Potter.
Zabini stood up, pointed at the list of nominees displayed on the large screen and asked, "What's going on here? Why is my name not up there?"
All hell broke loose!
Accusations were thrown about, mostly at Humptail, and how he was tampering with the proceedings. The Interim Minister was now on his feet and he began to move. His guilt was obvious; his intention to leave, clear.
There were clamours to stop him. He was headed for the back exit and a couple of Aurors, Harry Potter included, were trying to intercept. The Minister quickened his pace, his eyes continuing to watch Potter closely. He was close to the doors now, closer than his pursuers. Beyond the walls of the Wizengamot courtroom, as Minister of Magic, he could Disapparate to anywhere within the building.
Then, a few feet from the exit, Hosiah suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Obstructing his path was a recognizable witch currently at the center of much controversy.
"It was you!" Humptail growled.
The witch replied, "I had help. Though I must say it was stupid of you and Malvado to think you could pull this off."
The insult found its target. Green beams of light burst from the tip of Hosiah's wand, all of them headed for Hermione Granger.
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A/N.
Thank goodness someone mentioned Leila, I had to bring her in again just to tie up that piece.
Al, poor Al … I know it's not vital to the story but I couldn't resist writing that in.
Harry and Hermione with Ron vs. Humptail up next.