Round 8 — Dystopian Future
CHASER 3: What happens to the Ministry?
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: 6. (creature) centaur / / 7. (song) 'Centuries' by Fall Out Boy / / 8. (word) lace
A/N: Loved the round. Hated to write. Life's a mess. Thanks to Jordi for proofreading. Go Magpies!
Harry Potter's death marked the end of an era. He was a legend, the Boy Who Lived, and he turned to dust.
The Dark Lord and his supporters had won the Battle of Hogwarts. The war was finally over. The Death Eater infested Ministry became quite literally The Death Eater Ministry, with Voldemort becoming the Minister for Magic himself. Most ties to the other magical ministries around the world were cut completely, save for the MACUSA who, with their own No-Maj policy, fully supported Lord Voldemort with his plans to oppress the Muggles and Muggle-borns in the UK. The lesser races—goblins, centaurs, merfolk, giants, and house-elves, not to forget werewolves—were all registered and their rights were reduced over time. Some tried to stand up against the new laws, but the opposing groups were swiftly struck down. Muggle-borns who weren't caught by Death Eaters or Aurors fled the country. Half-bloods tried to readjust to the situation where their ancestry was the only thing keeping them on the safe side.
For Pure-bloods, it was so much easier to join the winning side. To not fight the new rule, but to embrace it, and work for the Ministry.
So Blaise walks with his arms full of important papers in brand new folders, politely greeting the other Ministry workers along the way. Their expressions vary from generally happy to cautious and overwrought. He doesn't attempt to make small talk with them. He's already running late and, to be honest, the last thing he wants to do is to get on the bad side of the Minister for Magic. He's one of his secretaries, after all.
Melania Lestrange, dressed in black just like every other Ministry worker regardless of the office they work for, puts yet another folder on the top of the pile. She smirks, crooked white teeth glinting. "New bill from the DMBC," she says, words dripping from her mouth like poison. "They've been diligent as always."
With concealed disdain Blaise accepts the folder from the newly formed Department of Magical Beast Control and leaves Miss Lestrange behind. He passes through the cafeteria, nodding at Mr Weasley when the two of them make an accidental eye contact. The Weasley patriarch has seen better days. He's almost bald by now with the last of his ginger hair going grey, and the bags underneath his eyes can be seen from three tables away. He's been working for the Muggle-born Registration Office, the job he hates with passion, for almost four years. It's starting to take its toll. Arthur Weasley returns his nod curtly, and Blaise walks faster.
The elevator is empty when Blaise steps in. He sighs in relief, his tense shoulders relaxing. Who knew that keeping up an appearance would be so hard for him of all people? He presses the button and closes his eyes. His life has been relatively easy after the war, with him being a legitimate Pure-blood by all standards. In the eyes of the law, Half-bloods with four or more generations of magical blood were now considered Pure-bloods. That created several new Pure-blood families to keep the old ones alive.
There's a bing and Blaise cracks a single eye open, just to see Cenric Ford stopping the doors from closing and stepping in with a gleeful grin.
"Zabini," Cenric greets Blaise with an overly confident smirk. "Fancy seeing you here."
Blaise straightens his back, eyes darting from the Dark Mark in the front of Cenric's robe to the smug face of the former Half-blood. Cenric Ford is one of the many who fully supports the new administration. Blaise isn't exactly against the Death Eater rule, either. He stays on the grey area, off their radar, and tries to live his life without anyone messing it up with unnecessary business.
"Ford," Blaise says, eyes narrowing slightly as he glares at Cenric, "what do you want?"
"That's cold," Cenric laughs. "I'm just being nice. How's your wife? Ginevra, her name is, if I correctly?" he drawls.
"Ginny is fine," Blaise says tersely. He doesn't like speaking about Ginny to people who simply don't understand how the war affected certain people. She lost her brother when Fred lost his life in the battle. She lost her good friend when Hermione had to go on a run because of her blood status. She lost her boyfriend when the Dark Lord shot him with a Killing Curse in front of everyone in the Great Hall.
And she lost her freedom when she was forced to get married only half a year after the war ended.
Their entire relationship is built on the law they both despise. It was probably the second one the new Ministry created, right after redefining what it meant to be a Pure-blood. The war had brought casualties, the birth rates had dropped, Pure-blood families were dying off. Something had to be done.
"I heard from Farley that she's finally pregnant," Cenric tells him. Blaise feels the urge to go and find Farley, that nosy bastard, and punch his teeth in, but he refrains from doing so. "Congratulations," Cenric continues but it's clear he doesn't mean what he says. "How many months in?"
"Seven," Blaise says. His voice is quiet.
Cenric hums in thought. "Ah, the Marriage Law," he says, tasting the words. "I knew you would never touch a Weasley otherwise."
"Their status as blood traitors was removed," Blaise reminds Cenric, blunt fingernails digging into his palms in silent rage.
True, he had never liked Ginny Weasley when they had been in school, but she was a Pure-blood and it was better for them both to marry someone closer to their own age. Not that they had had much to say when the Department of Pure-blood Marriages had sent them letters. If he had declined it, Ginny would have been married off to some other Pure-blood, possibly to a Death Eater. Maybe he felt some pity towards her when he chose to marry her almost five years ago when the trials of the DA members and the Order were over.
Members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Dumbledore's Army, the ones who weren't killed or caught during the last phase of the Battle of Hogwarts, went on the run with many Muggle-borns. Many of those who were captured faced biased trials in front of the Death Eater court, most of them being sentenced to death. Some, such as Arthur Weasley and Neville Longbottom, had their lives spared but had other sentences coming their way. Others, such as Kingsley Shacklebolt, were executed because of the power they wielded.
The last time Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas had been seen was in Australia before the Aurors lost their tracks. She has a large bounty on her head, being one of the main forces behind Harry Potter, and even years after the death of the Boy Who Lived some underground activity still remained thanks to her and few others. People continue working against Voldemort and the Ministry in the shadows. Blaise is aware of that, but he refrains from openly joining the resistance.
On the seventh floor Blaise steps out the elevator, Cenric following him. Joanna Jones stops them with the newest Daily Prophet in her tiny jewel clad hands and her big lacy collar sticking out from underneath her robe. Blaise frowns. She reminds him of Dolores Umbridge, except Joanna is less toad-like.
"Did you hear," she starts eagerly, "someone tried to break into the Department of Mysteries?" She points at the headline of the paper. Blaise recognizes the face of the culprit in the black and white picture but doesn't say his name aloud.
"What in the Merlin's name for?" Cenric scoffs, taking the paper from her. "There is nothing worthy to steal and even after five years they still try that."
But there is, Blaise thinks, remembering everything Ginny has told him about the Department of the Mysteries, and about how there has to be something that will bring the Ministry down and how they will find it.
"Someday they will succeed," Blaise says bluntly, Cenric and Joanna staring at him and very well knowing his words could declare his disloyalty for the Dark Lord. They say nothing though, and Blaise is free to continue to the Minister's Office. He knocks twice, not stepping in before the chilling voice asks him to come in.
We've been here forever
And here's the frozen proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned youth
The Ministry will fall.
And we'll go down in history.