Summary: All is seemingly well in Wizarding Britain as the last aftershocks of the War against the Dark Lord fade away, but a series of murders lead ace Auror Daphne Greengrass to a threat that may throw her world yet again into imbalance.
Chapter 12: Negotiations
"Impossible," blustered the Minister as Daphne finished telling them the conditions laid forth by the Muggleborns. The days were long in summer, but the seven or so hours until sunset that Daphne had to convince the Ministry to recognize the Muggleborns' claim to Ynys Mon were maddeningly little in which to move a political system that predated the Magna Carta.
Besides the Minister's exclamation, there was pin-drop silence in the Wizengamot. Madam Bones looked very old standing on the side on the raised platform that faced that Wizengamot's benches. The Minister was beet-red and the members of the Wizengamot snuck glances at each other in the silence.
More than one House had an heir or a close relative amongst the prisoners taken by the Muggleborns, and none of them wanted to be the first to speak, for fear of being associated with what had fast become the greatest political disaster since the British Ministry had allowed, and even encouraged Grindlewald to rise to power. Of all the witches and wizards in the office, the only one who seemed disinterested in the proceedings was the Chief Warlock, Amos Diggory, who had lost his only son to the Triwizard Tournament before the recent War.
It was Lord Flint who spoke first - his son, Marcus Flint, had been in Ginny Weasley's team and was now held under the Muggleborns' power at Ynys Mon.
"It appears, Minister, that your government has taken the mandate taken by the Wizengamot and abused it horrifically," observed Lord Flint. "And Madam Bones - what on earth possessed you to send in the full strength of your Aurors when you little to no intelligence about an enemy you had just discovered was vastly better organized than you had believed?"
Madam Bones bowed her head. Her days in office were limited, and Daphne saw resignation in her eyes. Despite the events of the past few days, she felt bad for Madam Bones - the witch had been a good boss to her. She debated for a moment whether she should voice her defense of Madam Bones, but she checked herself - there was no use tying herself to Madam Bones' fate.
Lord Boot stood up. "This isn't the time to be pointing fingers, Flint. We need to work on a solution ..."
He was cut off by the enraged Lord Flint. "My son is held hostage by those vermin," he roared. "Don't you dare tell me what I should and should not be doing - need I remind you, your arse has only been on this body for three years!"
Daphne felt vicious satisfaction as Lord Boot - who had replaced her father on the Wizengamot - was alarmed enough to sit down. Terry Boot was also in the Muggleborns' captivity, but Lord Boot didn't see fit to bring it up, so Daphne wasn't about to either.
Amos Diggory banged his mallet on his podium.
"Order, Lord Flint," he called. "You are not the only one with an heir at stake."
Flint glared at him. Lord McLaggen - a solidly Liberal lord - stood up next.
"I propose we consider treating with them," he said grimly. "They have the upper hand."
"Normalize relations?" howled Flint. "We don't need to normalize relations, we need to burn the damn island down!"
"That island has your son on it Flint," shot back McLaggen. Theirs was an older family, and not as easily intimidated as the Boots. Flint glowered at him but made no response. "We have no army - Auror Greengrass is one of the last few Auror left at our disposal. Our gracious Minister" - he sneered at the Minister, who winced - "has put us in a very difficult position."
"There are magics we can use," hissed Flint.
"Magics that behave unpredictably on Ynys Mon," reminded McLaggen. "I highly doubt you can use even your vaunted Flint family magics to manage a clean execution while saving your son. That is the same trap our esteemed Minister fell in."
Draco Malfoy, who had been sitting back with a pensive expression on his face, now stood up. Flint looked up at him in encouragement, expecting him to agree with him.
"I agree with McLaggen," said Draco quietly. The mutterings in the hall fell silent. Utter shock darted across Flint's face, and even McLaggen looked bewildered. Malfoy, a Lord as Traditionalist as they came, had thrown his weight behind a Liberal.
"I ... er, Lord Malfoy," began McLaggen.
"Save it, McLaggen," Draco cut him off smoothly. "I have no affection for you, or for the Muggleborns, but I recognize what we must do for our world's survival. The Minister rushed into such a brazen action, because he understands that we need the Muggleborns in our world to function."
The Minister puffed out his chest and seemed to breathe easier as Draco continued.
"Our world is in shambles," continued Draco, "when we should be rebuilding it. Lord Flint recognizes that we cannot go crawling to the Muggleborns and cave to their every whim, and for that we should appreciate him. At the same time, we need to appreciate the awful situation we are in. If we react with heavy-handedness, we may lose a generation of Pureblooded wizards and witches" - he paused for dramatic effect - "my generation. The ones who were supposed to lead the Wizarding World out of darkness after our recent wars.
"Our priority must be to rescue our heirs and our Aurors. We may survive without our Muggleborn clerks - we will learn and adapt - but without our heirs, our culture will die. Without our Aurors, we will be exposed to further aggression by the Muggleborns. We must get them back."
There were murmurs of approval throughout the hall.
"What do you propose, Lord Malfoy?" came a voice.
"I propose we cede Ynys Mon," said Draco evenly. "The Isle is only of cultural importance to us - we haven't lived there for over a millennium. If the Magic on Ynys Mon hampers their children's magical development as we believe it should, our children won't have a hostile Ynys Mon to deal with. If it doesn't," he smirked, "it still buys us time. Every shield has a weak point. Ynys Mon won't have the upper hand forever."
He sat down, resting his case. Daphne saw more than a few of the younger lords looking admiringly towards Draco, and she had to admit, her brother-in-law had handled the situation exceptionally well. She was glad for her sister that he was setting himself up to be a powerful man in their world.
Lord Flint stood up, and the whole hall seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his response.
"I second Lord Malfoy's proposal," he said listlessly, and he sat back down, shoulders hunched. He looked a defeated man.
"All in favour?" asked the Chief Warlock.
The members of the Wizengamot raised their wands, and the vote was unanimous. Ynys Mon was ceded by the British Ministry of Magic to the Council of Ynys Mon.
"Auror Greengrass," he continued. "You are authorized to communicate the will of the Wizengamot to the Council of Ynys Mon. Report back here within the hour, and the court scribe will provide you with an official document. The Wizengamot will break for recess."
Daphne stepped away with relief. An hour, what would she do for an hour? The face of her world was changing, and she felt nothing but numbness.
She would have forgotten about it, had it not been for Draco. He pushed his way past several of the Wizengamot members and grabbed her by the elbow, leading her firmly past the door and into a secluded hallway.
"Potter," he said facing her. Daphne started. In the events of the day, she had almost completely forgotten about her partner who was in a Ministry holding cell.
"What about him?" she asked.
"The Minister is going to throw him under the bus," said Draco seriously. "He's trying to save his job, and he's going to paint a picture that Potter betrayed us."
"How do you know he didn't?" asked Daphne suspiciously.
Draco snorted. "Potter is a lot of things, but he's not intelligent enough to be a spy. There's too much Gryffindor in him."
"And why are you trying to help him?" she said uneasily. "You've both been rivals."
Draco's laugh was clear and dry.
"Rivals, yes," he said, amused. "But what is a Slytherin who cannot use his rivals? The Wizengamot doesn't realize this, but I am going for the long game, Daphne. I'm going to bring Ynys Mon down. Do you know how?" He leaned in towards her, breathing heavily, and Daphne felt his breath on her face. "This is just the start. I'm going to throw open the borders. Normalize relations. Repeal the worst anti-Muggleborn laws, reduce enforcement of the rest. Make our world welcoming again."
"To what end?" Daphne asked. "They have their own land now, they don't need us, nor we them. We can cart off every Muggleborn to Ynys Mon - develop the Pureblooded society the Dark Lord envisioned ..."
"The Dark Lord was a fool," hissed Draco, his eyes glinting. "A nobility is built on the back of a lower class - you cannot eliminate the lower class and expect the nobility to keep standing. Their Council is green and inexperienced. Our politicians are honed in wile and trickery. This won't be a war of wands, it will be a war of words and diplomacy. Ynys Mon will fall again."
In that moment, Daphne fully believed her brother-in-law. Revolution was well-intentioned when it was started, but it almost always ended in the involved parties squabbling for leftovers. Mature societies evolved safeguards so that they would continue functioning despite the short-sightedness of its politicians and the selfishness of individuals. A completely new community, one without safeguards that evolved over centuries, would fall. Maybe not now, maybe not this year, maybe not even this decade. But in time, they would trip and stumble, and if their enemies happened to be strong enough at the time, they would be overpowered.
"Just do me a favour," continued Draco. "Tell Potter that I told you to let him go."
She could only nod, so spellbound was she. Draco nodded at her curtly and walked away, his cloak bellowing behind him.
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Harry didn't know how long he had been in that cell. He had woken up barely an hour ago, and the last thing he had remembered was being pushed against the ground by his erstwhile partner and stunned in the back. He knew it was a stunner because of the flash of red light that he remembered, and he recognized the telltale headache that always came after being stunned.
He searched his pockets, and they came up empty. Greengrass - he supposed she was Greengrass again - hadn't made the same mistake he had with Turpin, he thought bitterly. He felt incredibly bitter - prejudice he had felt against Slytherins, prejudice he thought he was being an adult by growing beyond came raring back, reminding him of a time when no one wearing green at Hogwarts was to be trusted.
They had been smarter at Hogwarts, he decided grimly. He reached for his magic, and the magic-suppressing wards on the cell flared. At full strength, he would have been able to brush away the mediocre-strength wards, but in his current state, with his pounding headache, he couldn't concentrate, and the magic was quickly forced back into him
There was nothing to do but bide his time. He knew he could break out easily enough, but he didn't know how he would recover his wand, or escape from the Ministry building. In any case, to accomplish either of those feats, he would need a clear head.
And so, he sat and rested. He meditated, the way he had learned to do for Occlumency, and pushed away at his thoughts. Slowly, bit by bit, the fog in his brain receded and the throbbing in his head lessened. So engrossed was he in his meditation that he didn't notice a click in the lock on his cell door.
It was the clearing of her throat that roused him to attention. He opened his eyes, and they narrowed as they saw who it was.
"Greengrass."
She looked hurt, almost, as though she hadn't deserved to lose his friendship.
"The Minister has decided to throw you under the bus, Harry," she said quietly.
He laughed out loud.
"And now you're here to crow over me?" he asked, amused. "Ron was right about you, you know. Never trust a Slytherin."
"Look, Potter, it's not what it looks like," she hissed angrily.
"You cursed me in the back," he said loudly. "What should it look like?"
"And what did you expect me to do?" she retorted. "Refuse to arrest you, and be arrested with you? Or do you think I should have let you beat me? Perhaps you would have, Potter, in a fair fight - in fact, you likely would have, but what then? Did you plan to fight through the 30 or so Aurors that were directly outside Madam Bones' office? You call me a Slytherin, but you were being nothing less than a foolhardy, stupid Gryffindor."
"I'm not stupid," he said automatically, but he didn't know what else to say. He certainly felt stupid just then, though he wasn't sure whether he felt stupid for trusting Greengrass, or because a small part of him recognized the merit in her argument.
"Of course not," she said sarcastically. "I'm sure you had a plan in mind."
He growled and reached for his magic again. The magic suppression ward flared and fought against him, but this time he fought back. His mind was clear enough that he managed to keep pushing, and with an almighty heave, the wards shattered. He raised his hand and Greengrass' wand sailed out of her robes and into his hand.
"Maybe I did have a plan," he said coldly, pointing it at her.
She looked furious.
"You're an idiot, Potter," she raged. "I'm here to help you get out."
He looked at her skeptically. "And I'm supposed to believe that?"
"Yes!" she said angrily. "Do you think no one would notice if you brought down the wards like that? There are monitors built in ..."
The Stunning spell was on Harry's lips when her demeanour seemed to change. She relaxed and took a step back, raising her hands in surrender.
"Tell you what, Harry - you're a leglimens. Why don't you use leglimency on me, and judge for yourself what my intentions are?" she asked. The change in address didn't go unnoticed by Harry.
"You would let me in?" he asked dubiously.
She nodded.
"You're my partner, Harry," she said quietly. "I'm no Ron Weasley - I can't stand back-to-back with you, and fight through the entire Auror department. But I do have a brain, and some of that fabled Slytherin cunning - I want to help you, and you have to understand that my help might come in ways you didn't anticipate or expect."
He brushed against her mental shields using passive leglimency. Her shields were still up, but he sensed some emotions leaking through. Fear, desperation, honesty.
She lowered her shields at his mental touch, and they locked eyes and he entered her mind. She pushed her memory of stunning him to the forefront of her mind. He saw what she did, and though he couldn't read her thoughts at her time, he sensed her emotions - worry, indecision and hesitation. He saw through her mind a condensed version of the events that happened after, flavoured with Daphne's emotions - he saw the Minister's organized attack on Ynys Mon, and he couldn't help but feel proud of how Hermione completely demolished Ron and Ginny's forces. He saw the events that had taken place at the clearing in Ynys Mon, and the debriefing she had given the Wizengamot, and the conclusion that they came to.
Without any words, he pulled out of her mind and handed her her wand. He knew what had happened now - there had been no elaborate scheme from Daphne to get him arrested. She had been in a position in which there was no clear answer, and she concluded that it was better for one of them to be on the Ministry's bad side, rather than both. Her decision had been cemented by her own - excessive, in Harry's opinion - respect of the Ministry and its authority, but that was just her nature. More than anything, he realized that the past few days had been stressful and emotionally traumatizing for her - and that made it easier to forgive her.
Daphne took her wand back and hesitated for a moment.
"There is one more thing," she said quietly. "Draco told me the Minister was going to accuse you of being a spy. He wanted me to help you, and for you to know that he had helped you."
Harry looked at her suspiciously. "Are you here because of him?"
She looked guilty. "Yes. No. I meant to figure out a way to get you out. Perhaps I am here because of him in the sense that I didn't know the danger you were in until he told me about it. Would I have tried to help you if he hadn't? Yes, I would have. Perhaps not so explicitly and not at such great risk, but yes. Somehow."
He reached out with his leglimency again and detected unabashed honesty.
"Why would Malfoy want to help me anyway?"
Daphne shrugged. "Not out of any love for you, I'm sure," she said calmly. "He's not a schoolyard rival anymore, Harry - his agenda is grown beyond that. I'm sure having you free and on Ynys Mon serves his purposes in some way."
She took out a familiar stone from her pocket and tapped it lightly with her wand. It glowed green.
"Family magic?" he asked, his voice cracking.
"You know it," she answered with a slight smile, handing it over to him. Her hand brushed over his, and he clasped it.
"Come with me," he offered. She shook her head.
"This is my home," she said sadly. "I would never be welcomed with the Muggleborns, as they have never been completely welcome here. For all their vaunted ideals, humans are humans - even Muggleborn humans."
Harry didn't have to look into her mind to know that she was thinking of Klein and Justin Finch-Fletchley's reaction to her presence in the Council's room. With some reluctance, he let go of her hand.
"I'll write," he promised.
"Make sure you do," she responded, raising her hand in farewell as he felt the tug of a conventional portkey around his navel and the Ministry holding cell disappeared around him.
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AN: Thanks for reading. If you like what you've read so far, I encourage you to follow the story and drop me a review. If you don't like the story, or have any recommendations for improvements to my writing style or my English, I would love hear them.