A short story inspired by Donald Trump, and which the events of the latest GOP debate serves as a catalyst to put pen to paper.

For everyone uninformed, the United States of America is preparing for the upcoming Presidential elections. Amongst the Presidential candidates vying for consideration, the Republican Party is finding itself in a remarkably dystopian position of having to seriously consider the candidacy of Donald Trump, who is surprisingly the present front-runner of the nomination process. Without going into the politics of each individual Republican nominee wannabe, the reason for my disdain of this crop of Republican Party nominees (mostly Trump) can be best summarised from the antics of individuals (mostly Trump again) during the latest debate held at the University of Houston. Coincidentally, Trump's politics and rhetoric brings to mind the supposed dogma espoused by Death Eaters. More than anything, I enjoyed Rubio's various pithy smack-downs of Trump. So without much ado, I present my version of a Trump takedown in the Harry Potter world.

Full Disclosure: I am not a U.S citizen, all opinions are my own. Without sounding egoistic, I am not trying to influence anybody, merely writing this as a means of venting and expressing my worries of a buffon-ish and inept President, that is possibly being shared by the world at large.

P.S. : My only regret is that Trump is mostly represented here by an intelligent and cunning character, often under-appreciated for his slipperiness and talent. In contrast, Trump is almost Hagrid-esque in real life. In order to stay true to Malfoy's character, I would probably distribute Trump's more ridiculous sayings amongst the other characters.

21st December 1994

Winter Solstice, 1994, December 21

Forty-Six Thousand, and Eight Hundreth Seating of the Wizengamot (Footnote 1)

Last Session of the Parliamentary Wizengamot of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (Footnote 2)

"Hear ye, hear ye, the Lord Speaker, Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore paused for a moment as he sat on Merlin's Throne, the re-purposed Speaker's Seat, and surveyed the crowded room before him over his half-moon glasses. With a sigh, he made to stand, slowly but surely gathering up his robes and moving to the lectern directly in front of him.

"My Lord Wizards, My Lady Witches, I call this Final Session of the Parliamentary Wizengamot of 1994, to order!"

"Without presuming to offend my Lords and Ladies, I bid to remind this body politic, that it is traditional in this august body that this Final Session be open to all-comers seated rightfully, for the purpose of house-keeping and administrative measures, to submit before this body for adjudication, any matters not limited to, but of legislative intent in relation to matters against our Magical Sovereignty, Merlin's Mandate, and, or Magical Citizens. I bid my Lords and Ladies be mindful of said tradition, and henceforth - in the tradition of my predecessors, I hereby open the floor." (Footnote 3)

From the last row, a lit wand was raised almost simultaneously as the last echo of Dumbledore's sentence died. With a slight nod in the direction of the lit wand, Dumbledore said, "This House recognises Lord Gamp."

The aforenamed individual, a heavy set man, with gray mutton-chops and a faint sheen of perspiration present upon his forehead rose from his seat. He cleared his throat in slightly nervous manner before stating with a pompous tobacco-hoarsened voice, "If it pleases the Wizengamot, Lord Ulick Gamp. Chief Warlock, I present before this body a charge of dishonour against House Nott by thine own house. It has reached my ears that statements made and issued by Lord Nott, in relation to a certain confidential matter betwixt both parties, has been allowed to meander and thereby impugning upon my personal and familial honour. I demand restitution, or satisfaction. This I swear upon my magic, that my charge is true."

"Interesting" Dumbledore wondered to himself, as he raised an eyebrow at the severity of Lord Gamp's charge. The portly man was known more for his talents in the manufacturing industry, not for his athletic ability, nor his duelling skills. To risk himself in such a fashion against a man like Lord Nott, Death-Eating predilections aside, also a frequent participant on the ICW Dueling Circuit… clearly the matter involved, and words spoken by Lord Nott must have been one of great import.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Dumbledore turned towards the back-bencher of what he viewed as the Death Eater faction. Said faction comprised mainly of the Lords Malfoy, and Parkinson, who by wit of force, and economic prowess, managed to gather a sizeable group of eight other minor Lords who were seated together with Lord Nott. "Lord Nott, your response?"

Cantankerous Nott rose to his feet in a fashion neither fast nor slow, and said with a measured drawl, "If it pleases the Wizengamot, House Nott concedes the charge, and will undertake to provide restitution in place of satisfaction. This I swear upon my magic, that my undertaking is true."

"Even more interesting" Dumbledore thought to himself. Clearly expecting belligerence, and perhaps even some intimidation from Lord Nott, his mind was already snapping off various scenarios for such reticent behaviour and analysing the possible reasons available. "No matter, eyes on the prize, Albus." Dumbledore knew what was at stake, and as such, prepared for what would possibly be the greatest political undertaking of his career, the exposé of Lord Voldemort's return. Swiftly, he turned his eyes unto his allies, before finally focusing on the man he had charged with the task to begin what would surely be the equivalent of throwing an Erumpent amongst the wizards. Briefly sending out a prayer to whichever deity watched over heretical non-believing ancient wizards, Dumbledore hoped that his, and the British Wizarding World at large would meet the same fate as befell Wilfred Elphick, first wizard to be gored by an Erumpent without perishing thereafter.

"If it pleases the Wizengamot, Lord Elphias Doge. Chief Warlock, I bring notice to this august body horrifying news. I…", here Elphias Doge paused to take in a stuttering breath before calming himself down and continuing, "I charge this Parliamentary Wizengamot to investigate claims made this year on All Hallows Day, by the Minor Potter, and the Chief Warlock himself, of the menace that was thought to have been vanquished in 1981. I call this Parliamentary Wizengamot to allow the Ministry an opportunity to answer to my charges. Foremost, that our national heroine was victimised in an unfortunate ritual by You-Know-Who, and that if said charge is proven true, for the Ministry to aid this nation to combat the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as well as his followers who have helped him in his return, and to do so post-haste, so that we may never return to those dark days past. This I swear upon my magic, that my charge be the truth."

For a prolonged moment, all was still in the chamber, and not a sound was heard after Doge ended off his charge on a shrill note. A fly found itself under renewed scrutiny in that brief moment of silence, as the buzzing sound of its wings attracted the notice of a black haired individual positioned slightly behind it. Green eyes met honey-combed ones, and swiftly, a heavy-handed swat ended the life of the fly known to its brethren as, 'Gnat'.

The clap produced by the smack of the hand on the lectern, courtesy of momentum as set out in the Laws of Physics published by the muggle Newton, was sufficient to break the turpid silence that had descended upon the room. Immediately, parliamentarians of both gender, ages, and political leanings rose to their feet, lit wands casting harsh shadows on the curtained walls of the chamber, as they clamoured to be heard.

"Sonorous", Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, causing his peers before him to wince under the heightened effects of said charm, this in turn largely due to the amplified emotion and volume when Dumbledore casted the charm.

"This body will remain seated, and observe the traditions and decorum as set before, and demanded of representatives in this body politic!"

With order restored, Dumbledore perused the lit wands before him before choosing someone with neutral political leanings. "I recognise Lady Flemming." (Footnote 4)

The austere matron rose to her feet. "If it pleases the Wizengamot, Augusta Flemming, Regent of House Longbottom. My Lords and Ladies," she paused and took in all who were seated on her left and right, a slight sneer crossing her expression as she gazed across the room and met the eyes of Lord Malfoy and his contemporaries, "it seems that Lord Doge has laid down several serious claims that may have serious consequences to our way of life, and not least, the function of this body. Be that as it may, it is pertinent to note that the charge is predicated upon claims of another, one of whom seats as the Speaker of this body. We cannot allow for claims of biasness to overturn any final decision made today. I therefore ask for the Chief Warlock to step down in the interim, as we address Lord Doge's charge."

A wince crossed Dumbledore's face as he acknowledged not only the legitimacy, but also the logic of Regent Longbottom's demand whilst admonishing himself for allowing for such a detail to trip up his orchestrated reveal of Voldemort. Cursing slightly, he immediately thought of his mentor and one of his favourite sayings. "Albus, eet iz often said zhat when great men plan, zey often overlook zee tree for zee forêt... non, non, i mean zee forest, n'est–ce pas? Be really careful eh, because zhere iz a Anglais saying... zhat from acorns, great oaks grow - non?" Perhaps in formulating his plan, he failed to factor in the minutiae. Sometimes, he really wished Nicolas was still around to advise him, knowing as well as he did that he could never attain the precision of a fine-tooth comb that Nicolas' razor sharp intellect and eye for detail provided.

After a hurried discussion with the Court Scribe, he then rose to his feet once more, "I acknowledge Regent Longbottom's claim, and vacate Merlin's Throne. The Court Scribe has informed me that in circumstances such as this, the speaker shalt be thine, with thy life liveth longest. As such, I call Lord Ogden to vacate his seat, and serve as the interim Speaker for this matter. Lord Ogden, if you please."

Once Albus Dumbledore vacated his seat, he thanked his lucky stars that his appointment as the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards meant that he could avail himself to the granted observational seat in the Wizengamot. He quickly shifted to said seat and gazed into the U shaped, terraced rows that served as seating for all Wizengamot representatives.

In a wheezy voice, the trembling and reedy tone of Tiberius Ogden was heard over the acoustics of the chamber. "The Wizengamot recognises Lord Parkinson."

"If it pleases the Wizengamot, Lord Donald Parkinson. Lord Speaker, I find myself indignant, nay, insulted, and perhaps slightly puzzled that Lord Doge has seen fit to raise a topic that had left myself traumatised and suffering from many indignities even until this day," here Parkinson paused as if to steel himself from the recollections of painful experiences past, before continuing in a whisper laced liberally with venom, "without conclusive proof."

"The Wizengamot recognises Lady Bones."

"If it pleases the Wizengamot, Amelia Bones, Regent, House Bones. Lord Parkinson presents a good point. Whilst oaths are sufficient for level Ones to Three charges, Lord Doge's claims suggests a clear and present danger to our Magical Sovereignty, Merlin's Mandate, and Magical Citizens. Without further knowledge and incontrovertible evidence, it is nigh impossible to ascertain the level of threat sufficient to qualify as a clear and present danger. I must ask that both the Minor Potter, and Chief Warlock Dumbledore present themselves to the Auror Department for further investigation, upon which findings will be made present to this august body."

Smirking, Donald Parkinson turned to whisper into the ear of Lucius Malfoy, "Their need for procedural legitimacy will surely buy us sufficient time for our Lord to regain his power and re-gather his influence."

Without any sign of agreement, Lucius Malfoy replied, "Surely, our Lord will be pleased if we destroyed the charge here and now, rather than allowing the off-chance that Dumbledore might trump procedural requirements with just his or that Potter chit's memories of that night."

The mirth that was evident in Donald Parkinson's eyes disappeared as his facial features morphed into a frown. "That… is a possibility I find untenable. Surely, as Bones said, clear and present danger situations requires more that oaths and memories. Merlin 'sakes, it is a level Five charge, it requires an Unbreakable Vow, and the magical signature of the charge in question to be found. The thing... that happened with Potter, happened almost two months ago. Even runic magical signature residue does not linger that long, for all the longevity that runes possess."

Malfoy gave no indication that he heard the words of his ally.

"The Wizengamot recognises Lord Malfoy."

"If it pleases the Wizengamot… Lord Lucius Malfoy of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I have, but three points to make. First, as an unwilling Imperius victim, I have suffered greatly, and after that ordeal, I found myself studying the deeds of the Dark Lord in order to better come to terms with my experience." Malfoy spoke faintly and halting. "On the basis of such study, I therefore find it difficult to believe that the Dark Lord will seek to resurrect himself by utilising his vanquisher, and perhaps greatest rival."

His voice grew in volume as he slowly and steadily began his statement. "Surely a weaker wizard or witch might prove more susceptible to a 'weakened' Dark Lord. After all, we have heard about the abilities and exploits of young Flora Potter, have we not? Hoodwinking an ancient magical device, bypassing the restrictions set by Headmaster Dumbledore, champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament as a lowly fourth-year." Malfoy shook his head indulgently as he gave a weary chuckle, "These are not actions of a helpless creature. Surely this fourth-year student is no mere student." Green eyes drew closer beneath a furrowed brow. It was impossible to differentiate whether Malfoy was sarcastic or absently impressed. Indeed by the looks of many Wizengamot members, his honeyed words and persuasive arguments had looked set to take root in influencing the day's discussion. "Clearly, the implication that the Dark Lord, 'vanquished' by the Minor Potter as young baby, cannot hope to stand against one so accomplished, thirteen years later."

"Second, while I greatly resent my ordeal under the Dark Lord, and certainly his ways, his ideals are admirable. I say that the most vituperous culprits have been punished and are safely locked in Azkaban. I speak of course, of the wizards and witches who call themselves Death Eaters, tch tch… truly, what a noble name for a group – misplaced and utilised by such fallen, such cretinuous individuals. We have no conclusive proof of criminality by the Dark Lord himself… only evidence of the murderous, albeit misguided work of his followers. Indeed, the death of the elder Potters as actions attributed to the Dark Lord is mere supposition, in fact, speculative in nature. His ideals, I bid thee, members of the Wizengamot, were worthy. We find ourselves greatly sidelined in our very own society by the growing number of muggle-borns. We find ourselves endangered by the increased numbers of capricious and obvious muggle-magical accidents - undoubtedly by muggle-borns, seeing as how our Ministry Oblivators are always despatched to muggle superior geographical locations. We find ourselves pressured to change by external influences, I hear from Hogwarts, calls for the abolition of elf slavery – my dear witches and wizards, is this not hubris of the highest form manifested and perpetuated by muggle-borns? We grow open to danger from internal influences – assimilated over the years. My own son reports that the half-giant Hagrid has set upon third year students dangerous animals without consideration of the relative fraility of the human wizardiology (physiology)and form. Is this the effect of a Dark Lord or an open society? I say that we do not seek to allow Lord Doge's rumour-mongering under the guise of a renewed terror outbreak. I say we learn to appreciate the safety we have under the esteemed Minister Fudge, with all past offenders safely in Azkaban. I say we look past the purported and unproven brutality of the Dark Lord and focus on the factual reports of his individual actions... that is to say, none. Most importantly, I say that we grow aware of the dangers, not from Dark Lords but of the erosion of society values in order to make our nation great again."

"And finally, I would like to question Lord Doge's motivations in claiming such a matter? Could he be perhaps trying to shift attention and blame away from Headmaster Dumbledore over the fact that a student inexplicably died from the woefully created port-key during the Tri-Wizard Tournament? Perhaps, that is something we need to look into as well."

The mostly spell-bound Wizengamot was slow to react but when they did, it was overshadowed by a small but vociferous number who rose to their feet, led by the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Dolores Umbridge, in applauding the slowly sitting Lord Malfoy.

"Order, order!"

"Lord Malfoy is right! We should build a wall! We need a wall to keep out half-breeds and muggle-borns!" A shrill, saccharine, sweet voice vehemently vocalised from somewhere next to the Minister of Magic.

"Order, Order, ORDER!" Lord Ogden subsided into a hacking and debilitating cough after almost having screamed himself hoarse in order to silence the 'yays' emanating from the section largely occupied by the faction seated around Lucius Malfoy after Undersecretary Umbridge's inflammatory statements. "Madame Umbridge, you are out of order!" Lord Ogden said.

"The wall just got ten feet taller!" screamed the shrill sound masquerading as vocalisation.

Clearing his throat, Lord Ogden said, "Point of Order! This is a Parliamentary Wizengamot session! Minister, if you cannot control your Undersecretary, you must vacate your seat. This House does not tolerate external voices, and it is by our Graces that observational seats are granted. This is your only warning."

The only sign Lord Ogden received in response was a blushing Cornelius Fudge turning to bluster at his Undersecretary while she tried to stare Cruciatus at the present speaker. From the corner of his eyes, Lord Ogden saw a lit wand, slightly brighter than most. He turned to the visage and unwittingly, widened his eyes. Such a movement, whilst imperceptible to most was noticed by Dumbledore, as he too sought out the reason for Lord Ogden's reaction.

Looking upon the features of James Potter with Lily Evans eyes caused Albus Dumbledore to truly feel his age, and wonder whether perhaps the time has arrived for the changing of the guard. Once again, Nicolas' words came to mind unbidden. Looking upon the visage and grim countenance of Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore truly appreciated the foresight of his mentor's pithy sayings, for in that instant, there was no greater oak tree in the room than Harry James Potter, and said oak had arrived to claim an accounting for being overlooked in favour of the forest.

(To be continued)

Footnote 1: Assuming that Parliament sits in session twice a month, with HP canon stating that Wizengamot has been in existence since 1544, multiplication = 46,800 sessions thus far.

Footnote 2: Assume that the Wizengamot is bicameral, with a Parliamentary Wizengamot and a Criminal Wizengamot, the latter faced by Harry Potter in canon.

Footnote 3: Assume Merlin's Mandate is similar to Magna Carta, or Bill of Rights, or Constitution

Footnote 4: Assume that fanon as stated in s/7161848/7/893 is true, whereby Augusta Longbotton was born Augusta Flemming