Diclaimer: It must be acknowledged that Harry Potter and his world belong to J K Rowling. I am just playing with the characters.
I have a new story that I've been working on for awhile. It was started a couple years ago and is based on the Potter's Affairs Challenge that was on SIYE. I still haven't finished it. It's been beta read once, but I've changed it since and so it's still kind of raw.
I was just curious to see if anyone might be interested, so I've decided to post the prologues.
I just want to see if it might be considered a good story. Read and review, if you would.
Prologue Part One.
The turmoil that overwhelmed the British Wizarding world did not immediately, or easily, dissipate when the conflict, instigated by one Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Lord Voldemort, came to an abrupt end by his defeat at the hands of 'The Chosen One', a young man by the name of Harry Potter. Even though the second war perpetrated on the British population as a whole was shorter than the first attempt by the Dark Lord to thrust himself into the position of Master of the Wizarding world, the devastation was much more pronounced.
The death toll was greater, as were the crushing effects on the survivors. There were very few magical citizens who had not lost part, or all, of their family or a friend in the war. All too many had had their lives disrupted as their world was torn apart right in front of their eyes. Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters had gone to great lengths to try to destroy the old Wizarding world so that he could rebuild it on his own terms. Most people had lost their savings trying to stay alive, and over half were unemployed, or injured to the point that they were unable to work. It had become a very difficult matter to readily function in a world turned upside down.
The Ministry of Magic had lost half of its workforce, including many high ranking officials. Many had been killed; some had grievous injuries, while some were in Azkaban yet awaiting trial for treason, having willingly aided and abetted the cause of the Dark Lord.
It could easily be seen that Wizarding Britain needed to be reshaped and rebuilt. New leadership and new ideas were needed. Finding people with the courage, ingenuity and determination to formulate the ideas; to come up with a proper strategy to implement them, and then to follow through with them, ah, there, as is said, was the rub.
The Wizengamot was so overwhelmed with these problems, especially in light of the fact that the membership of the governing body was severely reduced as well. The members that were able to take their seats, listened to long reports daily from representatives of the various Ministry bureaus and debated possible changes to old policies, as well as possible amendments to their charter, which might help Wizarding Britain.
One particular day, Arthur Weasley entered the chamber. He understood that the task the Wizengamot had given him was important from the very beginning, and he and Percy had put their best effort into completing it. He had worked steadily and without a day off for weeks. He only saw Molly at night, when he came home to rest, and the family on Sunday mornings for the special brunch that all of them came for. The outcome of his task produced some very disturbing information, and he was unsure of how well his findings would be received. Still he was bound and determined to carry through out of respect for those who were no longer with them. He knew in his heart that Fred would be pleased with his efforts. He wished he had the same knack to prank people as Fred and George had, as he knew several of the members of the Wizengamot deserved to be pranked. Perhaps someday George could work out a way to prank the Wizengamot as a whole, to humble the lot of them. Until then, Arthur would continue on giving his best, trying to help his world, and the people, as well as he could.
He was acknowledged by the new Minister, his friend and fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix, Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Ah, just the man we've been waiting for. A welcome sight you are, Arthur!" declared the Minister's deep, booming, yet friendly voice.
"Thank you, Minister," Arthur said in a strong, clear voice, then he swept the chamber with his eyes, trying to gauge the mood of the members. His eyes finally rested on his friend and colleague Richard Bell. "I hope that I'm still welcome after I present my findings."
"Be assured, Arthur. You have friends in this chamber who respect your dedication to the task at hand, especially in light of the loss you have suffered," asserted Arthur's friend..
"Yes, we thank you for your efforts on our behalf, Arthur," agreed Minister Shacklebolt.
Arthur walked to the central speaker's podium to present the report that his son Percy and he had been putting together from data Arthur had collected in his new position as liaison between the various offices of the Ministry. Arthur had a temporary position given to him by the new Minister to help gather and collate data from all areas of the Ministry as well as from touring Britain itself to assess the damages and problems of the people in general, with the idea of presenting a very comprehensive and cohesive document that gave an understanding of what the true challenges were that they had to deal with, rather than just the complaints of every person that worked in all of the Ministry offices.
Percy had made sure that Arthur had copies for all of the members of the Wizengamot. Arthur wheeled a cart with a box on it over to the podium; then, after setting his briefcase on the podium, he turned to his audience.
Arthur turned weary eyes to his friend. "I'm not really used to public speaking..." he began, then hesitated a moment. It was just a little bit disconcerting to be the centre of attention in no less a place than the Wizengamot, yet he knew he must press on. Too much depended on the information he was about to present. "I am not a man to shy away from my duty, however, to you and to the people of our world. I am therefore here to fulfil my responsibilities."
"Please relax, Arthur. This isn't meant to be an ordeal for you. You have performed a very important service for us, and we all need to hear the results," said Richard Bell, smiling warmly.
Arthur returned a half-hearted smile, then turned to look at the Minister, who nodded. Arthur then turned back to the assembly. It shocked him to see so few members sitting in the chamber. He was sure that a fully seated Wizengamot should have fifty three people, which included the Minister himself. There were less than half that number. He wondered how they could possibly govern their world properly. Another problem to add to the list.
He took a moment to take a deep breath and then exhale, trying to collect himself and concentrate on the task at hand. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, I was set the task of discovering the true nature of the dilemmas and obstacles we face in attempting to rebuild our world. My son Percy and I have now assembled and examined the relevant facts for you and I am ready to present the facts and our conclusions to you here today."
The chamber, which had been quiet when he entered, was suddenly humming with the voices of members talking among themselves.
The Minister's gavel sounded. "Let's have order here, please, ladies and gentleman" Kingsley gave the crowd a warning.
Arthur turned and removed the lid from the box on the cart and set it aside. Then he moved the cart along to the different sections to personally make sure that all members received a copy of his findings. He noted that this incarnation of the governing body was a very polarized group. He was familiar with all of the faces, and he could see that two distinct groups were now vying for control in the Wizengamot, and thus Wizarding Britain.
On one extreme were the members who held the pureblood ideology led, he was sure, by Bertrand Reynard and Oliver Mainwaring; two men who were descended from the magical Norman families that had emigrated to England with William Plantagenet. They had come to England looking for fortune and power, and had acquired them. Like many of the Purebloods, the Malfoys and the Lestranges included, they were people who never really tried to fit into the society they lived in. They rather tried to push the British Wizarding society to follow their lead and their ideas. A great many of their numbers joined the Dark crusade of Voldemort looking to gain more power, wealth and control over Britain, only to be killed, imprisoned, or be hunted like the rabid animals they had become.
One the other side, were the members who were quite diverse. Some, like Richard Bell's family had arrived with William, but had embraced being a part of the new land, its people and society. His colleague Andrew Johnson, Arthur knew, had a mostly old Welsh bloodline, yet his darker complexion bespoke the fact that at least one member of the family had been drawn to a person with a more exotic blood line.
Both were still Purebloods, yet they always worked for the benefit of the people of Britain, magical and Muggle. Bell had been a champion of Arthur's idea for legislation to protect Muggles. Arthur smiled when he thought of how Richard's daughter, Katie, had been spending a good deal of time with his son Charlie. Andrew's niece, Angelina, had been friends with his son George and now they were nearly always together. These members were the shrewd moderate voices within the Wizengamot. Arthur felt that if they had any chance to change Wizarding Britain, it would be men like Bell and Johnson who would likely accomplish it.
Once all the members had a copy of the report, Arthur returned to the podium, opened his briefcase, removed his own copy and laid it out before him.
"Is this to be another long boring narrative about the plague of ills that our world has suffered?" asked Bertrand Reynard in a loud, droll, and uncaring manner.
"Keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr Reynard. It is very important that we hear the 'narrative', as you call it. We cannot make any informed decisions without knowing what the real problems are," asserted a suddenly standing Mr Johnson, clearly annoyed at his colleague.
"How many more of these interminable statements of imagined ills must we..." began Bertrand Reynard, only to be interrupted by a suddenly irate Arthur Weasley.
"Imagined ills?" Arthur inquired in a cold voice. "Mister Reynard, I've read through all of the interminable statements, as you call them. I have also personally investigated the problems by visiting most of the places where these statements originate. Our world is in shambles and you sit there and act as if nothing really happened. I..." Arthur reached out to put his hands on either side of the podium to steady himself and took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to calm himself. Some part of him wanted to throttle Bertrand Reynard in a similar fashion as to when he had fought with Lucius Malfoy years before in Diagon Ally.
"Bertrand," said a slightly irritated Oliver Mainwaring, "there are times when you can be a conceited arse, and this is one of them. "
Bertrand Reynard stood slowly, and rearranged his clothing to make sure he presented the dignified appearance of a man of his position. He then faced the Minister and nodded politely.
"If I may have a word, Minister Shacklebolt," he said in a somewhat haughty and contemptuous voice.
Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed, shook his head, and in his deep melodious voice, said quietly, "If you must, Mister Reynard, but be brief. I agree with Mister Johnson, it is important that we actually hear Arthur Weasley's narrative."
"Thank you, Minister Shacklebolt," replied Bertrand Reynard, in a more respectful voice. Then he turned and eyed Arthur Weasley momentarily and then moved his gaze to where Richard Bell and Andrew Johnson were standing. Both gentlemen casually sat down.
"I am fully aware that a great conflict has run itself rampant within our world," Bertrand Reynard said, with a serious tone. "I do keep myself as well informed about the state of our world as possible. What I see from the information that I have been made aware of so far, is that we have allowed too many of the lesser classes to influence and have control of our world."
A stirring of voices filled the chamber and Arthur Weasley's voice was the first to answer the claim of Bertrand Reynard.
"Lesser classes!" Arthur repeated the term tersely. There was a darkness that seemed to cloud Arthur's face and an unsympathetic tint to the look he returned to the man. "You mean Muggleborns and Half-bloods, or even the Muggles themselves," he said slowly and deliberately. "You, sir, are a bounder and a pillock; you..." Arthur moved away from the podium towards Bertrand Reynard.
In an instant Richard Bell was on his feet. "Arthur, don't play his game. Compose yourself." Arthur stopped, his hands clenched by his sides, and he closed his eyes a moment and breathed in deeply, then opened his eyes again and turned back to the podium, exhaling slowly as he regained his position. Seeing his friend regaining his composure, Bell returned to his seat.
"Is it your position that we continue the work of the last administration and imprison and kill citizens who we find don't quite fit into our society, Bertrand?" inquired Richard Bell of his objectionable colleague.
"I am neither a bounder, nor a pillock," said Bertrand Reynard. "I do not believe in imprisoning or executing people simply because they are not fortunate enough to be born Purebloods. However, I think it can be seen that our world has fallen into the detestable state it has because we have relied too much in recent years on an ever increasing influx of Muggleborns and Half-bloods. These people do not and cannot ever fully comprehend what it takes to properly govern and maintain our magical world. I do not blame them. I blame us."
Arthur Weasley turned to look at Bertrand Reynard. A part of Arthur hated him, but another part of him pitied the man and any other Pureblood like him, who could not accept that they were all just human beings. Being magical didn't make them better or less prone to making mistakes.
"What exactly are you on about, Mister Reynard?" asked Arthur Weasley.
"I believe what I said was plain enough. Those of us here and in the Ministry offices, and any others who in some way held a position of authority, became too complacent through the years. We did not stand forth and take control of our world as we should have. We did not take the time then to ask the questions we do now. We did not try to find a better way to rule our world and help its people. I am responsible, as is everyone here, for allowing our world to fall to ruin. There is an old proverb that says 'They who sow the wind shall reap the whirlwind'. We have sown our ideals and our culture on the winds of fate and fate has called the whirlwind to blow our world away like the autumn leaves." Bertrand Reynard closed his eyes and inclined his head downward a moment, breathing in slowly as he tried to collect his thoughts. The assembly around him remained quiet. Then he lifted his head and his eyes slowly, focused on Arthur Weasley momentarily. Then his gaze focused up directed at no one and he began to speak again.
"I believe absolutely that it is we Purebloods who will and should find the answers to our problems." There was a low rumble in the chamber to which he raised his hands signal them to silence, which they did. "I do, however, acknowledge that the implementation of our designs may in some way involve those who are not Purebloods. It is my understanding that this monster Voldemort ..." several shocked gasps were heard and then a hum of voices.
"Again I admonish you, please come to order, ladies and gentlemen," said Minister Shacklebolt.
"Yes, please let's act like the intelligent adults we are supposed to be," asserted Bertrand Reynard. "The man in question, and he was a man, is dead and gone. We need not further refer to him as You Know Who, or He Who Must Not be Named any longer. The filthy blighter is deceased, and it can readily be seen that any curse which might have been on his name died with him." He let his gaze sweep around the chamber. "Can we please agree on that from this moment on?"
There was a murmur of voices again and more than a few heads nodded.
"As I was about to say," continued Bertrand Reynard, "Voldemort... from certain data that has come to my attention, was a half-blood who preyed upon the arrogance and fears of many of the Purebloods to help him destroy our world in an attempt to rebuild it eventually with his own ideology. Had he succeeded, we would have had a raving lunatic for a dictator, and no one, Pureblood or otherwise, would have been safe." He stopped a moment to turn his eyes towards his long-time opponent Richard Bell, and then let his eyes move on.
"Despite what anyone may think of me, I still believe in the democratic system we employ to govern our world. With it, and the flow of different viewpoints from its members, it can still more effectively rule our world than an arrogant egotistical dictator, be he Pureblood or otherwise."
"Thank you, Bertrand. I couldn't have said it better myself," said Richard Bell, nodding from his seat at Reynard, who nodded back, and then turned to Arthur Weasley.
"If I have been too casual or offensive with you, Arthur Weasley, you have my apology. We sit here day in and day out listening to those interminable reports that never seem to come to a point, or in any way offer answers for the wrongs stipulated. We are in no way better off than we were before or during the tenure of that misbegotten pimple Voldemort. You are a Pureblood, and by all my accounts of you, a very hard working and diligent servant of the people. It is therefore wrong of me to not respect your efforts. If you have conclusions and ideas as to what we can do to change our world for the better, then we need to listen to your report." Bertrand Reynard sat back down and comfortably ensconced himself in his seat, motioning with his right hand for Arthur to continue.
Richard Bell cleared his throat and Arthur turned to his friend, who smiled, then in a serious voice spoke authoritatively to Arthur. "Stand up straight, Arthur, and speak clearly and distinctly. At the moment yours is the most important voice in this chamber. Don't hold your punches, my friend. If you have a comment, include it with the report." Then he smiled at Arthur and sat down.
"That is very sound advice, Arthur." affirmed the Minister's deep resounding voice. He rapped his gavel down and looked out to the assembly. "I call you all to order now. Be quiet and respectful of Arthur Weasley. What he has to tell us is of the utmost importance." He then turned to his friend. "The floor is yours Arthur."
Arthur Weasley turned from his friend Bell to look at the Minister. They gave each other half hearted smiles, then Arthur turned to address the body of the Wizengamot, cleared his throat and then put his right hand over his heart. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give my solemn Wizard's oath that the testimony I give to you today is the truth, by whatever powers look down to guide us." This quieted down the chamber. Then he looked down at the report. It was an unhappy, yet realistic, catalogue of the ills that plagued Wizarding Britain and he was determined to see that those details were read aloud in the chamber so that every member had a clear understanding of the problems that they all faced. He felt that too many people had died, like his son Fred, or been dreadfully wounded physically and mentally. A sudden image of Harry Potter came to mind. Harry was a terribly conflicted young man who after years of abuse found it difficult to function. Arthur knew that there were quite a number of people out in their world like Harry and somehow, he felt, the answer to solving the problems must begin in this chamber with the people who controlled the magical world.
Arthur looked up and gazed around the chamber again, straightened his shoulders and began to speak in a clear voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, it can clearly be seen that there are a number of major problems to deal with. Those whose needs should be addressed first are..." He spent a whole hour giving the facts to the Wizengamot, punctuating most with his own thoughts about what should be done. After giving his report, he stood quietly, looking straight forward for a few moments, somewhat upset by reviewing the facts of his report, which he finally let himself look back down at. He was also somewhat angry that these ladies and gentlemen were so out of touch with their world that they needed someone to inform or teach them what their duty was. He shook his head slightly and let a half smile form on his lips. It was sad that he had to address these people like a teacher instructing a class of children.
"Thank you very much, Arthur!" came Minister Shacklebolt's deep calm voice, breaking Arthur's reverie. "I think that it can be said that you have helped us see the true nature of our troubles."
Arthur looked up from his papers and gazed around the chamber at the faces of the members of the Wizengamot. "It is a truly disturbing picture which these facts paint. I cannot imagine at this time how we will find a way to overcome these troubles, yet our world cannot move forward until these problems are addressed," Mr Weasley said forcefully.
"Have no fear, Arthur," said a new voice. Arthur looked around to discern who was addressing him and saw Aurelius Greengrass, with a concerned, yet half smiling expression marking his countenance. He stood just behind his colleague Bertrand Reynard. "We will study your report, and using every means within our reach, find a way to help our world reform itself and become more responsive to the needs of its citizens." He looked up and caught the attention of the Minister. "I think our friend here is looking a little haggard and, like many of our workers in the Ministry, has been putting in too many days with too many hours, don't you think, Minister Shacklebolt?"
The Minister nodded. "I hardly concur, Minister!" he said in a sympathetic voice. "Arthur is one of the hardest working employees of the Ministry."
"That just reiterates what I said before," said Bertrand Reynard in an offhanded way, just loud enough to be heard. "He's a Pureblood and he cares about our world. We obviously need more people like him in our employ."
"Quite so," replied Aurelius Greengrass. "but, I think that Arthur Weasley is trying too hard to help us at the moment. It might be to all our interests, Minister, if he were to, say, take the rest of the week off. Try to relax at home. We certainly need a man who has such a deep understanding of our world and its people, and from what I've been told, he also has something of an interest in the Muggles and their world."
Arthur turned his gaze to Aurelius Greengrass, waiting for some condemnation from the man for some slight transgression he had made, but none came. "There is a great deal that needs to be done," he said candidly, looking down at his report, "And we are understaffed, and those of us who are engaged in the work will not get it done if we do not apply ourselves." Arthur was feeling the effects of too many hours and too many days spent on the job, yet he was resolved to give his all for his family and his world. His right hand moved up to his face to massage his temples. There was no denying that he felt somewhat frayed and worn.
"Arthur," Richard Bell called softly to his friend and Arthur turned and looked at him. "You've been working yourself beyond what we expect of you. You need to ease back a little. I don't want to lose another friend because of his zeal to help us solve our problems."
"I agree, Arthur," said Minister Shacklebolt. "I don't want to lose a friend, either." Arthur let his hand drop and turned to the Minister. Kingsley continued, "I'm ordering you to take the rest of the week off, and be back here bright and early Monday. Your son is perfectly capable of putting your office in order. As things stand now, you are finished with the task I set for you anyway. Come Monday, you'll be starting on a new task. Since you are fully conversant with the difficulties that plague us, I'm going to have you spend time in each of the Ministry Bureaus, advising them of ways in which you think they can improve and deal with their problems."
"No better man for the job, Arthur," remarked Aurelius Greengrass.
"Excellent idea!'" added Richard Bell. "You are someone who most of the people in the Ministry know. Show them your report and offer to listen to them. They'll be inclined to listen to you as well, and work with you."
Arthur gave a heavy sigh. A rational voice in his head said to listen to them. He had finished his given task and another awaited him. A weary and angry man could not properly begin and follow through on the new task given to him. A few days away from the strain might help him gain a new insight on the problems.
"These ladies and gentlemen, and myself, are responsible for worrying about these problems now. If by some chance you are ever elected to be Minister and, in the seat I now hold, then you can let those worries weigh heavily on your shoulders," Kingsley added. Arthur looked at his friend as if he were contemplating the pros and cons of that situation.
Some chuckling and murmuring filled the chamber. Richard Bell said quietly to himself, "Now there is an idea with merit." A calculating smile formed on his face, which only his friend Andrew Johnson noticed, and he smiled as well.
Minister Shacklebolt tapped his gavel lightly to get everyone's attention. "Let's have order, please."
"I will need to return to my office for the moment and perhaps finish out the day," Arthur asserted. "There are a few details I should discuss with Percy."
"Very well, Arthur. But when you leave the building this afternoon, I don't expect to see you again till, Monday. Are we clear on that point?"
Arthur Weasley nodded and sighed. "Yes, Minister," he said in an almost mocking tone. Then a smile broke his face. "Some part of me wants to leave this behind, if only for a short time, and rest up. I'll need to be ready for the new task ahead."
"That's the spirit, Arthur!" his friend Kingsley said with a smile. Arthur turned to face the man, smiled, then nodded, then looked back to his documents.
Arthur Weasley put his copy of the report back into his briefcase, and then turned and reached for the lid, and put it back on the box. He laid his briefcase on top of the box and began to push the cart to the entranceway to the chamber.
"You needn't burden yourself with that, Arthur, we can have someone..." began Aurelius Greengrass, only to be interrupted by Arthur Weasley.
"Everyone here in the Ministry is very busily engaged at the tasks we have set for them," said Arthur Weasley, turning back to the assembly.
"I have wondered why you went through the trouble to physically bring these reports to us and hand them out like a Muggle would have done." Andrew Johnson put in.
Arthur turned to the man. "Whatever the problems in our world are, I do not think that they can easily be just rectified by waving our wands and uttering incantations. We need to use our minds..." his right hand shot upwards, his index finger pointing to his temple. "Only rational thoughts and properly conceived plans will see us through our dilemma." He moved his hand down and placed it flat against his breast. "Of course it must be said that if we do not let our heart and our feelings for our fellow man govern that rational in some way, then any plans we make will likely be, as Mr Reynard said earlier, blown away by the winds of fate. Our people are the greatest asset that our world possesses." He let his hand fall to his side and looked out at the assembly.
"If we properly care for the people...all of the people, then our world will thrive and prosper. We will all be able to reap the benefits of what we sow." Arthur turned back to the cart, standing proudly and resolute. "I can take the cart that I brought with me back to the office. It is a small burden compared to the rather large one that I have managed to lay in your hands. I bid you good day." He pushed the cart to the doorway, moved then to open the door and hold it open with his foot. Then he and the cart disappeared and the door closed.
The Wizengamot, the great governing body of Wizarding Britain, sat quietly for a time, its members perusing the contents of Arthur Weasley's report. After too long a pause, Minister Shacklebolt cleared his throat to break the silence and to attempt to catch the attention of his fellow members. The heads of most of those assembled looked his way.
"Well..." began the Minister. "we certainly have our work cut out for us. Is there anyone who has an idea on how we can begin to deal with the catalogue of problems that Arthur Weasley has presented to us?"
Richard Bell finally stood, after a few moments. "If I may, Minister?" he asked, a smile beginning to take shape on his face, which turned to discern the Minister's answer.
"By all means, Mr Bell; if you can offer some possible answer to our troubles, please do so."
In his left hand he held Arthur Weasley's report. He moved away from his chair and desk, and walked up to the podium so recently vacated by Arthur Weasley. He laid the report down as his friend had. Then he put his hands on either side of the podium, hung his head slightly, and sighed. Then he looked up, at no one in particular and shook his head sadly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this report is a slap in our faces. It is a condemnation of our world and of us. I have to agree with what my colleague Bertrand Reynard said earlier. We let this happen by not really seeing that there was a problem and acting quickly and decisively. When we finally did see it, it was too late."
No voice was raised to disagree with him, so he continued.
"The Muggle world is already setting itself to rights after what this presumptuous man Voldemort did to them. I have friends in the Muggle world, so I know about their efforts. Disasters occur fairly regularly in their world. As such, it is set up to deal with the eventuality of such occurrences. We could learn quite a few lessons from them." He stopped a moment as if to collect his thoughts. Then he turned his gaze to Bertrand Reynard.
"You were also right about that man, Voldemort. He..." a slight chuckle interrupted him and he turned to see a smiling Bertrand Reynard.
"It's nice to finally be appreciated for something," Reynard said in a droll voice. "I appreciate your candour in this situation. It made me think about the fact that I have been aware that he was a half blood, among other things, for some time. I..." he stopped when he noticed scowl on the face of Oliver Mainwaring.
"It might have been useful for all of us to have been aware, as you were, of this information regarding this villaint," said Oliver Mainwaring.
"Be realistic, Oliver," said Reynard. "Most of us likely wouldn't have believed it and simply pushed the thought aside as rumour. Anyone who did believe it and tried to make an issue of it, would have simply caused trouble for themselves and us. Better not to know."
"Where ignorance is bliss," added Aurelius Greengrass, "'Tis folly to be wise! Eh, Bertrand?"
"Think about this. We have survived," asserted Bertrand Reynard. "As vain and insensitive as that sounds, it is a reality. As we did not find the means to prevent the crisis we face now, and I do not think it realistic to think that we could have, we are here now to deal with the troubles brought on us by the crimes of that man, because we were not active in the war, but rather busy with the problem of managing our world. We..." He never had the chance to finish the thought, as another voice called out.
"Minister Shacklebolt!" a raspy older voice called out and a small, ancient looking woman stood from her seat to draw everyone's attention.
As Kingsley Shacklebolt turned his focus from the gentlemen arguing in front of him to discern who the new voice belonged to, he smiled. The aged and unsteady form of Griselda Marchbanks stood at her seat in the chamber, leaning on the desk in front of her, to stabilize herself.
"Madam Marchbanks!" The Minister announced. All eyes were suddenly on her. "Do you wish to interject some comments into the conversation?"
The sides of her mouth rose subtly, as she sighed and shook her head slightly. She looked intently at the Minister and nodded. "Yes, Minister Shacklebolt. I do think that it is time for me to interject, as you say, my opinion into the fray." She stopped for a moment to catch her breath.
"By all means then." said the Minister. "It will do us all some good to have another older and wiser member ad their view to the situation. Please procede."
"Thank you, Minister." she said nodding to him. "I never expected to outlive the members of my generation, nor did I expect to live in such an interesting, yet troubled time." She took a moment to catch her breath, then continued. "This century alone has seen quite a few attempts by groups and by certain individuals to acquire and abuse power for their own interests, with little or no care for the rest of our world. I had hoped that after each great conflict that we have suffered, we could find a way to put aside our differences, and begin to work together to build from the ashes a world that might finally address itself to the needs of all people, magical and Muggle alike..." She stopped again to catch her breath and steady herself.
"What I see here today does not fill me with optimism for our future. I left this assembly in protest of that woman Umbridge being given status as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. The last thing this world needed was to give one vain bint the power to destroy, at will, anyone she took a disliking to. Sad commentary on the times, if we set one of our own to, in effect, engage in witch hunts." She stopped again to compose herself, closed her eyes and breathed slowly and deliberately, trying to focus her mind on the task at hand. She could feel herself tiring, as a rumble of voices stirred throughout the chamber.
"Please, come to order, ladies and gentlemen," the Minister asserted. "Allow Madam Marchbanks to speak."
"Your pardon, my fellow members. My age seems to be getting the better of me. It seems like only yesterday I was a young woman, at the beginning of her career, administering Albus Dumbledore and his generation their NEWTs. Now, sadly, he has gone on to lead a parade of those from the last several generations to the next great adventure. I returned here, however, to make a last effort to try to encourage you, all of you, to learn from the mistakes of the past and make a world that is considerate of the needs of all of its members, whether they be Muggle born, half-blood or Pureblood."
"We are trying to..." Richard Bell tried to say.
"Not trying hard enough, Richard Bell!" Griselda loudly rasped. "You remind me of a group of children playing parlour games. We as a people need to grow and progress from the 'I, me' mentality to the 'we who are all a family' state of mind. You need to take an example from Harry Potter. He sacrificed everything to find and destroy the monster who was himself trying to destroy our world. His thoughts seem to have been about saving our world, not glory and power." Her voice had risen in power and passion towards the end. "His example is something we seldom see anymore, yet it made his generation stand up and fight for what was right. And quite a number of that stout-hearted and vibrant youth were sadly butchered, and our world lay to ruin in the loss of them." She closed her eyes and bowed her head for a moment, then raised her head, eyes flashing wide.
"We lost many more to Grindelwald as well. We don't seem to be able to ever learn from our past mistakes. There are those of you who still fuel your efforts with hate and avarice. Yet the children, our children, loved their lives and their world and stood to fight and die to protect both, while you sat here bickering over policy." She stopped again, her lips quavering and her body lightly shaking. She stood straighter then, eyes moving around the chamber, and only Richard Bell would look her in the eye finally, and hold her eyes with his own.
"See what a scourge is laid upon your hate," she said sternly. "That Heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. And I for winking at your discords too, have lost a brace of kinsman..."
Oliver Mainwaring stood slowly, looking sad and contrite. "All are punished... All are punished," he said solemnly. "I... lost a brother and a son in this madness. You are right, Madam. We... must pull together and..."
"Merlin!" she cried angrily. "Does someone finally see the truth? It is time for you all to stand together. Stand for what is right, the lot of you! Stand and make the right choices that will prevent any more of these ridiculous wars!" She directed her gaze across the chamber to Oliver Mainwaring, who nodded and sat back down.
"It is to that very topic I wish to address this assembly here and now," Richard Bell stated, steadfastly holding her eyes with his own. A smile slowly etched itself at the corners of Griselda's mouth to be echoed on his own lips.
"Very well then, Mr Bell, please proceed. I am sure we are all waiting with bated breath for your oh, so ingenious solution to our afflictions. Lay on MacDuff, and damned be he who first cries 'Hold!'" Her brows knit and her smile broadened almost in a conniving tenor, as did Richard Bell's. He gave a curt bow, which she returned, then stood looking out to the members in general. Madam Marchbanks stayed on her feet, as if to say 'I am not finished with this debate yet'.
Kingsley Shacklebolt rapped his gavel once to try to bring the session to order. "Madam Marchbanks, please calm yourself. I'm sure that we would all like to hear any reasonable thoughts that you may have."
She bowed her head to the Minister and as her head lifted it she replied in a quieter voice. "Your pardon Minister. I meant no disrespect to you or this body."
The Minister gave her a quick nod. "Thank you," he said then turned to Richard Bell. "Now Mr Bell, what are your thoughts on this matter?"
"I have been considering the difficulties that we find ourselves in," Richard Bell stated clearly. "One particular answer came to mind as a possibility. We need to find one person who can be charged with the task of dealing with our problems, since we all seem to be at odds with what needs to be done and how to go about it. One person to be given the authority and power by us and over us, to take Arthur Weasley's report and the resources we have at our command and set about sorting it all out."
Bertrand Reynard guffawed loudly. "You imagine one person can take on this enormous task and solve all of our problems with the wave of a wand, is that it?"
"One half-blood pillock nearly destroyed our world by his hateful verve and initiative, as you so readily noted." Richard Bell's eyes caught and held Bertrand Reynards. "One young Half-blood wizard stood against this villain with only the need to put an end to the madness that plagued our world. That young wizard succeeded where others failed."
"You would burden Harry Potter with the travails of a whole society?" asked the Minister.
Richard Bell turned to him, and despite the dour concern upon the Minister's face, pressed on, "He is someone with a deep concern for people and their problems. He is someone who can ask for help and people will respond to their hero's plea. I am sure that there are many out there who would help if given the chance."
"Yes!" Griselda Marchbanks called out. "Our world is now full of lost souls looking for purpose and the chance to make something of their lives."
"Considering that our hero seems to be a bit lost himself," Kingsley added, "how do you expect him to take on this enormous task and accomplish what all of us can't seem to find the answer to?"
"He is a Potter!" said Griselda Marchbanks with a mysterious air.
"And that means what exactly?" asked Oliver Mainwaring, in a curious voice.
"They are one of the oldest of our Noble and Most Ancient families, and are well versed at dealing with adversity, as destroying the would-be Dark Lord Voldemort should tell you. That was not a fluke," said Griselda Marchbanks, whose body seemed unsteady on her feet.
"Please, Madam Marchbanks, sit and don't overtax yourself," remarked the Minister, expressing his concern.
Griselda closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly to steady herself. Then she opened her eyes and looked to the Minister. "I will stand for the moment, if you please, till we decide this issue."
"You seem to know something of these Potters," ventured Reynard. "You say they are well versed in dealing with adversity. To my knowledge, there are not any reports or stories to detail their involvement or accomplishments in our world."
Griselda smiled and turned to him, "They have always had wealth and power, and never felt the particular need for the glory. My great grandmother's name was Gwyneth Potter. The blood of the Potters runs through quite a few of the Pureblood families. I do not know the particulars, but it is possible that some if not all if of you are a part of that family." She turned her gaze to Richard Bell, her eyebrows lifting, her smile never wavering. He pursed his lips, and, perhaps not wanting to, smiled back. "They stand and fight, as many of us have not. My own brother stood with his friend Alexander Potter to fight against Grindelwald. Jeremiah Marchbanks, my brother, fell in the last battle against the forces of that other would-be Dark Lord. He lived long enough to see Albus Dumbledore defeat Gellert Grindelwald. It was Alexander Potter who returned my brother's body to us, and sat with us, and tearfully related of the bravery of his friend. And a sad day it was when the last Lord of the House of the Potters met his fate. One last Potter lives; one last chance to move us forward."
"So we find Harry Potter, if that's even possible, and then what exactly?" asked Bertrand Reynard.
"There's an old saying, Bertrand, 'To the victor, go the spoils'. You have to agree that Harry, whatever else he is, is clearly the victor here," said Richard Bell, in a profound voice.
"So then we just seek out Harry Potter, offer him anything his heart desires," put in Aurelius Greengrass, with a subtly sarcastic tone. "Offer him titles, riches and make him the, what, Overseer to our future? Shall we then give him Carte Blanche to deal with this whole mess and hope for the best?"
"Do you have a better idea, then?" asked Richard Bell.
"No," said Greengrass, seemingly unconvinced it would work. "Still, if you push a hero too far, after all he has been through, can we really expect him to be able help us?"
"We offer Harry Potter the chance to help others and perhaps the chance to work out his own problems as well," insisted Griselda Marchbanks.
"I heartily agree," said Andrew Johnson, standing quickly. "It's a possibility we have to pursue. Does anyone else have another suggestion? I..."
"Killing this Voldemort person was obviously simpler than we supposed. It only required the proper person, with the proper resolve to see it through," said Reynard calmly to the assembly. He then turned his attention to Madam Marchbanks. "As you noted, Madam Marchbanks, Harry is a scion of an Ancient Pureblood family. On first hearing the idea, it seems a bit far-fetched, yet the more I think about it, the more I begin to see the possibilities."
"What are you hinting at, Mr Reynard?" the Minister asked in an irritated voice.
"Simply that, I do not think one person could easily rebuild our world by him or herself. However, if we can persuade him to stand for us and with us, we could publicly reward him to appease the masses, who need to see their hero acknowledged for his deeds," offered Reynard, with a sly smile.
"Her Majesty the Queen would very much like an audience with Harry Potter, to acknowledge his..." began the Minister, only to be interrupted.
"Yes!" cried Madam Marchbanks. "Bring him to the public's attention, knight him and give him medals and titles. Array him properly in true hero fashion."
The gavel sounded again. "Madam, please bring yourself to order," admonished Kingsley.
"Your pardon again, Minister," she responded, with a guilty smile.
Richard Bell cleared his throat loudly to catch everyone's attention. "We need to remember, ladies and gentlemen, that Harry Potter IS a Lord in his own right as he is the last son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter."
"You both seem to know something about the Potters," interjected the Minister.
"Indeed, Minister," responded Madam Marchbanks. "As I said before I am a part of the extended family and know some of the details."
"I am a distant cousin of Harry's as well." added Richard Bell.
"To get back to the point of the discussion, if we may. He, that is, Harry is the Lord of the Potters and very few of those Lords and their Noble and Most Ancient houses are still left," Madam Marchbanks stated candidly and turned slowly to her left. "Mr Greengrass, you have no male heirs. Does this herald the end of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass?"
"I am in the process of finding my daughters proper husbands." said Aurelius Greengrass, with a half worried, half hopeful look on his face; "Hopefully, with the idea that one of these men could eventually be instated as the new Lord of the House of Greengrass. My house has always served our world and its people, and I intend that it should continue to do so."
"The House of Potter has always served the needs of our world and its people, as well," observed Madam Marchbanks. "And so I think it proper we give him the chance too for his family to continue, as well, to help our world."
"You put too much faith into what might be," said Greengrass.
"Yes, Madam. What we would ask of our hero is a tall order to fill, an overwhelming one, perhaps. He..." said the Minister.
"Standing face to face with that demon spawn Voldemort, not to mention destroying him, was an overwhelming goal," said Madam Marchbanks forcefully. "Yet he stood proudly, and faced and overcame the obstacle, in true Potter fashion."
"Then it seems to be the only likely possibility that we can pursue to achieve our goals," asserted Reynard, with a hint of a smile.
"We should put it to a vote!" asked Andrew Johnson.
"Yes!" cried Madam Marchbanks energetically.
Again the gavel cracked. "Madam, gentlemen! Please control yourself." cried the Minister.
"Your pardon, again, Minister!" responded Madam Marchbanks. Then she continued in a more pleading voice. "But, this is our chance to stop grovelling and puttering around like lost children, and stand up and make a firmly resolved adult decision."
There was some further debate, the opposition being led by Minister Shacklebolt and Aurelius Greengrass, of all people, who were leery of any suggestion that might in any way manipulate Harry Potter. The proposal was eventually put to a vote and passed nearly unanimously. A tired Madam Marchbanks finally sat down to rest.
"We seem to have come to a decision then." said the Minister. "We need now find a means to implement our designs."
To begin the carry out of the plan they had agreed to, Mr Bell suggested that the Ministry set up a vault at Gringotts, and any spoils of war, i.e. confiscated property, currency and financial investments from the vaults of Death Eaters, be deposited in it, as well as any rewards that the general public chose to send Harry's way. After the vote, it being late in the afternoon, Minister Shacklebolt called for a recess till the next day and the members began to leave. Richard Bell and Andrew Johnson were among the last to leave. As they neared the exit door, they heard a ragged voice call to them.
"Gentlemen!" They turned to see Madam Marchbanks, a worn and fail woman, slowly walking toward them.
"Madam Marchbanks," they both acknowledged her.
"A very stimulating session today, wouldn't you say?" crooned Madam Marchbanks in her ragged speech. "And about time, too. I would very much like to know that before I shuffle off this mortal coil, that the Wizarding world I was born into is still a thriving and vibrant haven for the citizens who inhabit it after I have gone."
"Surely you won't be leaving us soon?" asked Andrew Johnson, smiling.
"My body is sending signals that tell me I may not see the advent of the new century. I can accept that so long as I know that our world will be properly looked after. My mother was a botanist who studied the physiology of ancient trees, conifers, to be precise, evergreens."
"Evergreens?" both men said, surprise on their faces.
"Yes. She had ancient Druid blood in her. They revered the trees and the power in them. The Potters have that blood and that reverence for the trees and for all life as well." She stopped a moment as her head sagged forward and she tried to breathe easier. Slowly her head rose and she gazed at men before her.
"I know you were friends of Alexander Potter, and soon the legacy of the Potters is to pass down to his grandson, Harry. I am counting on you to be available to help him. Best be aware of the other ancient house that has a stake in this as well. The Longbottom boy is like my mother was, and studies the life of plants. Caring for and worrying over the needs of plants is a step in the direction towards being the person to care for the people as well. I am not sure how much his grandmother has told him of the past; he may be somewhat ignorant of his birthright, just as Harry is. These two boys... young men will help to shape the future of our world."
"Having visions now, Madam?" asked Richard Bell.
"There is a trace of Trelawney's blood in me. I had a dream the year that that Voldemort git returned. Two reddish Gryphons rising at the last battle to destroy the Dark Lord and lead our forces to victory."
"Two Gryphons?" asked Andrew Johnson, with a puzzled look.
Madam Marchbanks pursed her lips, then moistened them with her tongue and one corner of her mouth let crack half a smile. "I have heard it said that once Albus Dumbledore, after the Chamber incident, acknowledged to young Harry that only a true Gryffindor could pull the sword out of the hat. Both Harry and Neville have managed this feat. They did it because they both have the blood of Godric Gryffindor in them." She watched the gentlemen in front of her closely. Mr Johnson seemed more perplexed at the news, while Mr Bell only smiled wider, like the cat that ate the canary.
"And you know this because..." came Andrew Johnson's curious vent.
"If you live as long as I have and listen close enough to what is being said, you can learn quite a lot, young gentlemen," said Madam Marchbanks in a dissonant tone.
"Alexander told me about the PeverelI/Gryffindor inheritance before he died," noted Richard bell. "I remarked that Harry was our only hope then. He smiled and said, 'No, there is another."
"Indeed, good sirs; two lions to stir the mix we brew," she said, with a determined voice. "Two men of good character, tempered by the trials of war and injustice. They must be properly cajoled and cultivated into helping us drag our sorry world forward into the future."
"Richard?" came Andrew Johnson's inquiry of his friend. "Were you aware of this little wrinkle in the scheme of things?"
Richard Bell turned to his friend. "I did not know that Neville might be the 'other' until Alexander told me about the prophesy. Unfortunately he died not too long afterwards." Andrew Johnson looked a little confused, so Bell explained. "As Alexander and Dumbledore worked together on many things he would of necessity need to know about the prophesy to be able to protect Harry." Richard Bell turned back to face Madam Marchbanks. "Obviously Voldemort knew of the chance that both of them might destroy him, yet he chose to try to kill Harry, the half-blood like him, and his parents."
"It is likely..." said Madam Marchbanks, stopping a moment to steady herself and take a deep breath before continuing. "It is likely that he sent his Death Eaters to destroy the Longbottoms as well. Thus he sealed the fate of all three of them. The Longbottoms have always provided leadership to our world in the past, and as to the Potters... well, let us just say that they have had a hand in helping our world to survive its own destructive tendencies."
"Yes," replied Richard Bell. "We have lost some of our finest and most of our worst citizens. Our world was nearly destroyed and we are starting from scratch to rebuild. Alexander saw this as a possibility and made plans to set things to right before he died. It all still comes down onto Harry Potter's shoulders, unfortunately. Our future is in Harry Potter's hands. We just have to get him to Gringotts."
Andrew Johnson moved close to the old woman and gave her a wary inquisitive stare. "You learned about the prophesy from Alexander as well then?" he ventured.
She gave him a curious smile. "Yes! Not long after James and Lily went into hiding with Harry, a house elf brought me a message to meet Alexander. It was night and we met at the great ancient circle of power. Myself and two others were there." She stopped a moment to get her breath, then continued. "He told us about the prophesy and we discussed it and a few other matters. There was a deep sadness in Alexander at the time. He told us about events that happened before and explained somewhat about events that were occurring at the time. He also made veiled hints at events that might come to pass. He charged the three of us to be vigilant of these events but to be careful in all that we did. Then we left." She looked down and away from the two men and there was a sadness evinced on her countenance and the men remained still.
"Several days later I heard that his wife, Persephone was gone. She..." added Madam Marchbanks in a quiet voice.
"Alexander had several business matters to deal with in Diagon Alley, that day." announced Richard Bell, stiffly. "I was with them at the time. I...actually insisted that I accompany them. Alexander wasn't the type of man to let the war stop him from conducting his life or his business affairs and of course his Persephone was just as stubborn as he was." He stopped for a moment, closed his eyes and breathed a slow sigh at the memory. Then his eyes blinked open. "They were always together at that time of their life. They loved each other very deeply and needed to be with each other. At any rate, as we left the shop of Archibald Cowan, the clockmaker, the street erupted in chaos, as a large number of Death Eaters appeared. They began attacking everything and everyone. They must have put up anti Port key and anti Disapparition wards as Alexander and Persephone always carried Port keys."
"Alexander wasn't the type to run from a fight, neither was Persephone." remarked the old woman, tilting her gaze up, yet still forward and away from the men.
"No, they weren't." intoned Bell, with a sad smile. "Even though we were out numbered we fought them. Alexander was a champion dueller and after making sure his wife was in a protected space he walked out to fight them. He began to devastate their ranks with his spells. Strangely enough I never saw any spell find it's way to him."
"There is a benefit to being the Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter." said the woman in an eerie voice, a hint of a smile forming on her lips.
"Unfortunately, the benefit did not help his wife." Bell recited in a monotone voice. "Two stray Death Eaters came at us, firing wildly. They wounded me and then I saw the terrible green light flash at Persephone and she fell and was still."
"A great light in our world extinguished." responded the woman. "So much of what Alexander Potter was and accomplished was due to the love and counsel his wife gave to him."
"What happened...well after..." asked Andrew Johnson
"Two things actually." said Bell. " Aurors began to flood Diagon Alley and two spells assailed the Death Eaters that had been attacking us. One was thrust back against a wall and I heard a sickening crunch and he fell to the ground like a rag doll. The other was cut neatly in half at the waist and his body parts quickly tumbled to the ground spewing his life's blood over the stones in the street. Then I looked up and Alexander was standing over us with a lost look on his face."
"I remember that he always had a lost look on his face after she died." acknowledged Andrew Johnson.
"I found him eight days later in his office, sitting quietly and comfortably in the chair at his desk. " stated Bell, candidly. "His eyes were still open. I hadn't noticed at first and began discussing the days events. When I came closer, I knew there was a problem. Then I felt his pulse and knew he was gone."
"He was gone when his Persephone left." explained the woman. "It just took a little longer for his body to accept and move on with her."
"Strange that the funeral was not attacked," observed Andrew Johnson. "I would've thought that it would've been the perfect chance for Tom Riddle to strike at his enemies."
"I Don't think it strange at all." imparted Bell. "I think that Riddle was busy with all of his other plans and perhaps wanted to let Alexander Potter slip away quietly, so that people would forget, as they obviously have, about him and his generation.'
"Yes! And I didn't find it strange when several months later I heard about James and Lily Potter being killed. Harry Potter survived and the Riddle/Voldemort monster was defeated." She turned back to the men. "I had this feeling from what Alexander said to us, at that meeting we had earlier, that it wasn't the end of our problems or our possibilities. And so when Harry returned to our world and his adventures at Hogwarts began to play themselves out, I began to see the pattern of what Alexander had told me of before. When that Devil Voldemort returned I knew it would be Harry's task to fight him, and bring order and justice back to our world, if that was possible."
"If you knew so much, why didn't you try to involve yourself more?" asked Andrew Johnson.
She gave him a resigned shrug. "Who is to say I didn't?" She closed her eyes a moment as odd pains were shooting up her back. She tried to relax and breathe slowly, hoping they would abate and they finally faded somewhat. She opened her eyes and focused on the two men. "Albus Dumbledore was the champion of the light and knew much more than me about the situation. Just as Voldemort was the advocate of the rising darkness and probably knew more than either of us about everything. Harry was the Hero to be, waiting for his chance to step forward and decide the fate of us all. Alexander said to be vigilant and careful. I have been both, and when I could pass along some titbit of information that came my way, I did. I am happy to have survived long enough to see Harry fulfil the destiny we have forced on him by defeating his nemesis Voldemort. Whatever his future brings, I will leave to you gentlemen to help him find it."
"You can be sure that we will put our best effort into helping him." avowed Bell.
"Well, gentlemen..." she added in a shaky voice. "These old bones are tired after today's business. I will leave you to help Mr Potter to move his life forward, to venture forth and perhaps help us to reshape our world in the bargain. If you have need of me do not hesitate to send word. I'm afraid I must bid you a good day." She walked slowly past them and exited the chamber.
"Good day to you, Madam Marchbanks!" they both chimed in together. Then they both smiled at each other and left the chamber as well.
There was quite a bit of intense discussion, toasting with fine aged wine and hand shaking at the Court of the Blue Blooded Lion some time later. It was a special Wizarding club for gentlemen of distinction. Richard Bell was only really interested in shaking the hand of his friend Andrew Johnson. They met in a room off to the side and gave each other a tenuous smile, as their hands released and they raised a glass of fine brandy in a toast.
"So then, Richard, we try once more to set things right." A slight furrowing of Andrew Johnson's brows belied his concern. "Do you think we can succeed at making a better world this time?"
Richard Bell lowered his gaze a moment, pensively debating in his mind before he looked back up to his friend to answer. He picked up a snifter of the golden liquid they were drinking, refilled his friend's glass and his own, and then they gently clinked the glasses together and drank again to possibilities.
"I think that, now that Voldemort has been destroyed and his bullying henchmen and their allies have been either killed or are facing prison, there is every possibility that we can hope that the last of the Potters will step in as his grandfather did many years ago." answered Mr Bell.
"What did you think of Madam Marchbanks involving herself today?" asked Andrew Johnson. "It was uncanny, almost as if she knew what we were working towards."
"She seems to know quite a bit about what's going on and what needs to be done. She knows about Harry, and Neville Longbottom as well. She's one of us. She knew our password, 'Evergreen'," replied Richard Bell in an introspective tone.
"She made a point of laying it all on us to try to nudge Harry in the right direction," Mr Johnson stated.
"Of course she did. She knows that we are the only ones who care enough about Harry and know enough about him to help him," said Mr Bell.
"Can he really be expected to do what we need him to do?" asked an anxious Andrew Johnson.
"Now that's an interesting question," said a voice from the doorway. Both men turned to discover who had introduced himself into their conversation. Bertrand Reynard and Oliver Mainwaring stood together at the entrance to the room.
"I believe that he will do what is right, Bertrand," said Richard Bell, confidently.
"I wish I had your abiding faith in people," said Oliver Mainwaring, sadly. "My own family hasn't always done what is right. We have tended to do what was easy for us, and now we are seeing the effects of that folly."
"I'm sorry, Oliver. I think that once Harry is given all of the facts, allowed to see his options, and see how he can help his world as well as find his own peace of mind, I am sure that he will accept his inheritance and find a way to assist us," continued Mr Bell with a more confident air about him.
"I hope, for all our sakes, that you are right," Mr Johnson said sighing faintly.
"Yes. For all our sakes," said Reynard, dryly. "I do think that you are enjoying the position this puts you in too much, Richard."
"What are you on about, Bertrand?" asked Richard Bell, his face suddenly a stony mask.
"When we were at Hogwarts, you were the boy with his hands in every facet of school life, every student organization," quipped Reynard. "Any help the teachers needed, you were there to give it. You always seemed to be sucking up, as they say, to get ahead. I knew very early on that you would be Head Boy in our last year."
Richard Bell pursed his let and took a long deep breath to calm himself and help him push the irritation he felt at Bertrand Reynard's jibe. "Was that a position you wanted, then?"
"Merlin, no!" responded Bertrand Reynard curtly, as a smile lit his countenance. "Too many responsibilities. Being a prefect suited my ego much better. Just as much power, if not more, and I wasn't constantly under the beck and call of the Headmaster as you. I played out my little schemes and enjoyed myself immensely. You were the great spider lord weaving your web throughout the school. You really should have been in Slytherin with me. You were much more conniving then I was. We could have had a grand time with all of the schemes you were involved in."
"I was involved because I cared," said Richard Bell tersely. "I was a fairly capable student and I had the ability to help others."
"Come now, Richard. Be realistic. I would be the first person to acknowledge that you were probably the brightest wizard of our age. Comes from the blood. Your family and the Potters were always the kind to reach out a hand to help. You don't make enemies because too many people owe you for one reason or other, even me. I suppose that's why you were in Ravenclaw. Too intelligent, too involved, too concerned for everyone else."
"So, going along with me today is your way of repaying the debt?" Richard bell inquired, unsure of the sincerity of his long standing opponent.
Bertrand Reynard gave a hearty laugh. "You've always been a player, Richard. I'm just curious to see where your new scheme takes us. Like it or not I do care about our world and I do think there is some merit in your idea to involve Harry Potter in the affairs of our world. As I said, it is important for Purebloods to take a commanding role in the leadership of our world, yet it can obviously be deduced that Harry Potter acquired some benefits from having Lily Evans as a mother."
"That's Lily Evans Potter, Mr Reynard!" added Andrew Johnson, forcefully.
"It seems to have been a potent mixture, in either case," said Oliver Mainwaring. "Perhaps, it's an indicator of what needs to be done in our world. Pure-bloods have a certain innate understanding of the magic of our world and how to wield it to our advantage. I wonder though if we have the sensitivity and the sensibility to fully grasp what the needs of our world and our people are."
"I agree, Oliver," said Richard Bell, his eyes catching Mainwaring's, then moving to catch and hold Bertrand Reynard's. "Harry, it seems, understands about the power of magic and is obviously a powerful wizard. He also has an understanding of human nature and a compassion for others that some of us lack."
Bertrand Reynard's smile didn't waver. "We'll just have to wait and see then, won't we? Our hero isn't a part of the scheme yet, Richard. Good luck in finding and getting him to become involved in this."
"Thank you, Bertrand. Be assured that I will be diligent about finding and trying to convince him to work with us," said Richard Bell, with an assured air.
"I'm sure you will be, Richard. I'm sure you will. Oliver and I have some matters to look into, so we'll leave you and Mr Johnson to pursue the quest for our young hero." He turned and whispered something to Oliver Mainwaring. "Good hunting, Richard." He bowed slightly, then turned to Andrew Johnson, "Good-day to you, Andrew." Andrew Johnson smiled stiffly and nodded curtly and quietly.
"I have the feeling that those two could cause us some trouble," said Andrew Johnson.
"They aren't a real concern at this point. Harry is our main concern at the moment," said Richard Bell, letting his head droop forward a bit in reflection. "From what I've observed, Harry is very much like Alexander. He's moody and overly sensitive to the pain that other people have suffered, especially from something Harry did, or thinks that he forgot to do."
"That's a bit over the top, isn't it?" added Andrew Johnson. "Shouldn't blame himself for anything. It was all the fault of that git Tom Riddle."
"Yes," said Richard sadly. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. I remember when Alexander talked to a gathering of us years ago to inform us of just who our enemy was. Alexander always regretted the fact that he knew about Tom's family, yet never went back after he returned to our world from his adventuring, to see what had happened to the Gaunts."
"So he blamed himself, to some extent," speculated Andrew Johnson, "for the mess we have laid at our doorstep, just like Harry does."
"Unfortunately. So, like it or not, left to his own devices, a small, seemingly innocuous, yet highly malevolent child named Tom takes on the qualities of poet T S Elliot's great villain."
"I'm not sure I follow you," Andrew Johnson said, somewhat unsure of his friend's point.
"Simply this," said Richard Bell. "These lines of poetry readily define Tom –
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity, For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity. You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square- But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there! And he changed his name and slipped away in dead of night.""Imagine the nerve of that arse to make up a name like Voldemort, and then expect us all to bow and whimper in fear of him. Harry never did. That's one of the things I admire about him. He had the whole world against him at some point and he still went after Tom Riddle. A true seeker, that boy. Went out and found out what made old Tom Riddle tick, then used it to destroy the ruddy monster."
"That's what I meant by him being like Alexander," said Richard Bell, letting his head rise up, and catching the eyes of his friend. "I knew Alexander from when I was very young. When he got an idea in his head and decided on a course of action, there was little that could stop him."
"So you think Harry will be as powerful and as insightful as his grandfather was?" asked Andrew Johnson.
"Remember when we used to go to the Quidditch matches at Hogwarts?" Richard Bell asked his doubtful friend. "We went to watch Katie and Angie play. You could not miss seeing the drive and determination of Harry Potter. Even though we have not had the chance to meet him, from what we've seen, and from what we have heard about how he destroyed our would-be dictator, I would say he is every bit the man his grandfather was, if not more so."
"Then we need to make him aware of the problems we face, vis a vis Arthur Weasley's report, and perhaps give him a push in the right direction, eh?" Mr Johnson's face relaxed a bit as he let the hope his friend was exuding begin to fill him.
"We will give him the means to allow us to rebuild our world, to be sure, by giving him the vault in Gringotts. I'll have to speak to Minister Shacklebolt about finding the proper envoy to convey the information necessary to Harry to persuade him to help us." Mr Bell emptied the contents of his glass and set it down.
"You know where he is, or where he might be found, don't you?" A smile began to spread across Andrew Johnson's face.
"Let's just say that I'm familiar with the Potter family and the legend of who young Potter males tend to be interested in," Richard Johnson declared softly.
"You mean they chase after young red headed girls. I've heard the old legend myself. I'd say that it was true since Alexander and James both married red headed women." An odd look came over Andrew Johnson's face and he pursed his lips a moment then smiled again. "If I'm not mistaken, I seem to remember that Arthur Weasley has a daughter, with quite a robust shock of red hair."
"Well spotted, my friend," said Richard Bell, in a controlled voice, as his eyebrows rose slightly.
"Well, then I guess I should be off and leave you to push our little scheme to its ultimate conclusion," said a jovial Andrew Johnson.
"I do not really think it prudent to try to push Harry Potter to any particular course of action. Too many people have tried to manipulate him to their own ends in his lifetime. I prefer to offer him the hand of friendship and let him have the final decision about his life from now on." Mr Bell held out his hand to his friend and Mr Johnson reached forward to shake the hand of his comrade.
"The better part of valour is discretion, eh, Richard?" asked Andrew Johnson.
"Precisely," replied Richard Bell. "But just as well, in this instance at least, I think it is best for us to attempt to do what is right, rather than what is easy."
"I have always trusted your judgement, Richard. I will leave you to your business for the moment, as there are several matters that require my attention as well." Mr Johnson felt a slight tightening in his hand as Mr Bell softly uttered the word that seemed to have some deeper meaning to them.
"Evergreen, my friend."
The men held each other's eyes for a moment, and then Mr Johnson closed his eyes for a few moments, lost in thought. Then he opened his eyes again and replied to his friend. "We can only hope that Evergreen will come to be again." They nodded to each other, and then their hands fell apart.
"From what I understand of Harry Potter's meeting with Voldemort, Harry is said to have actually died, or appeared to. Yet in the end he rose like a Phoenix from the ashes to defeat his enemy. That, alone, gives me cause to hope that our world can be reborn and reach forward to new and better circumstances for all of us," Mr Bell said eloquently.
Mr Johnson nodded, turned, sat his glass down, and walked away.
Mr Bell gave a quiet chuckle and muttered to himself softly. "The plot's afoot, Watson." He grasped his glass, and noticing that their snifter was empty, went to a table with several assorted brandies. He poured himself another drink and downed it quickly.
"And a very worthwhile plot it is, if I may say so, Richard," said a new voice from behind him. Richard Bell turned to discern who it was that had intruded on his private speculation and surprised to see Aurelius Greengrass eyeing him mischievously.
"Aurelius, I..." he said, unsure how to treat this new participant in the plan they were trying to pursue;
Was he a friend or a foe?
"Please, Richard, we are somewhat familiar with each other," declared the newcomer. "You know that my father was a close confidant of Harry's grandfather. I was never part of the inner circle as you were. I nonetheless played a part in Alexander's ploys through the years."
"I remember seeing you with your father on occasion speaking to Alexander," ventured Richard Bell cautiously. "I guess that I should have known that Alexander would have other hidden agendas not to be known by us all."
"To be sure, my friend," said Greengrass, the wisp of a smile beginning to form on his face. "Alexander was the great manipulator, according to my father. I never did understand why Alexander was not in Slytherin. You are very much the manipulator yourself, and yet you didn't end up in Slytherin either. So here we are, two men seemingly at odds, but with the same goal."
"The same goal?" asked Richard Bell. "As I recall, you were against the motion to ask Harry Potter to help with our troubles."
Aurelius's smile broadened. "There are still a number of the members who are at odds with me over certain matters. Let us just say that by being against your proposal, those members saw fit to throw their lot in with you and voted to let your little scheme play itself out."
"You outmanoeuvred them, and by doing so helped my cause," said Richard Bell casually.
"Our cause, Richard," Aurelius said, in a more serious tone. "I think it can be said that we very much need to have Harry step into his grandfather's shoes. We have seen better days. Hopefully we will see those better days again in the near future."
"Now who's the manipulator?" asked Richard Bell, letting a smile crack his face.
"You surely understand that, as politicians go, all of us in the Wizengamot are manipulators," entreated Aurelius. "Most manipulate for their own interests. We few set our course to manipulate a scheme to give our hero, who was the Boy Who Lived, and is now the Man Who Destroyed the Dark Lord, the chance to be the ultimate manipulator. Ironic, isn't it? We, who over the years have plotted and schemed and abused Harry in our games, need him now to scheme and manipulate us out of our troubles." Aurelius Greengrass half turned to leave, but stopped a moment, his head bowed and a pensive look on his face.
"I understand that Harry is our only hope, Richard. I also understand that you are the only hope of finding him and getting him to be that hope. So I wish you the best of luck. If you need my assistance for anything, just send an owl with the password and I'll try to help."
"Password?" asked Richard Bell curiously.
"Yes." Aurelius looked up and back at Richard Bell for a second. "You know, Evergreen. Not really that surprising to find me one of your crowd, is it? One of my ancestors thought it up; probably wanted our name to be involved down through the ages." He pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. "Well, looks like I have to be going. My daughters will be expecting me for dinner soon. Good-day to you, Richard." He put his watch away and turned and left.
Richard Bell watched his new 'accomplice' leave, then shook his head and chuckled quietly. He reached for his glass and refilled it. He mused over the day's events and thought to himself how much had really been accomplished. Today they had taken a first big step on the journey toward building what the Muggles would call a brave new world. It would still be a long journey down a winding road. He had been able to push his fellow members of the Wizengamot to take that step. He had to make the next step possible by persuading Harry Potter to step into his grandfather's shoes and become the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. A tall order by any stretch of the imagination. He emptied the contents of his glass in one go, then walked forward out of the room and was on his way as well.
Those ladies and gentlemen who were in control of the Wizarding world at the moment were thinking that, at the very best, Harry being able to defeat the Dark Lord should mean that he had the power and inventiveness to be able to solve a good many of their problems without too much of a fuss. A perhaps naïve and ridiculous idea, but when one is backed into a corner, as the Wizarding world had been, one tended to grasp at straws. At the very least, if he failed, there were those in the Ministry who could, and likely would, use Harry as a scapegoat for the failure, which would give them time to formulate some sort of plan to deal with any difficulties by having the Wizarding world continue to petition Harry for the solutions.
Their biggest question in this or any plan, to begin with, was finding Harry Potter and getting him to go along with the scheme. Harry Potter was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared after the battle at Hogwarts, and was notorious for not wanting to have anything to do with the Ministry.
Every other day or so, articles would appear in the Daily Prophet seeking the answer to the burning question on everyone's mind –where is Harry Potter? Some supposed sightings of Harry were also given rampant coverage, in the hopes that Harry might be flushed out of his hiding place. No real information, however, seemed to be forthcoming.
Richard Bell had an idea about how to contact Harry, but he decided to wait the weekend out and see if anything came up. If Harry didn't come forth, and he was sure that Harry would not, he would have a chat with Arthur Weasley to discover if what he suspected was true.
A/N: I rewrote some of this, as I wasn't satisfied with everything. I am still trying to work on the story.