Granger, we need to talk
Chapter 21
The usual disclaimer.
I make no money from this work
All rights to characters, settings, etcetera are the property of JK Rowling
Political, Treaty and Trade Negotiations.
Whomever has the strongest bladder, wins.
September 20, 1998
Harry stood tall and proud as he finished.
The scream reverberated through the chamber. "Nooooooo! Avada Ked . . ."
Harry was just beginning to drop behind the speaker's podium when four red streaks of spell fire slammed into the screaming moron who thought he was faster than a trained auror.
Harry slowly straightened as the six aurors in attendance closely watched the members in the tiers of the chamber, watching to see if anyone else was reaching for a wand. Finally satisfied, the Senior Auror team leader gestured two of the aurors over to examine the wizard who had tried to cast the Unforgivable at Harry.
When the pair reached the stupefied wizard, they quickly levitated him out to an aisle way where they rapidly and efficiently searched his clothes and person for magical items. First his left arm was exposed and examined. From the search Harry saw a ratty quill, that was probably a portkey, an amulet of some type, a pair of small sacks and the man's wand placed into a conjured bag and magic suppressing handcuffs were placed on his wrists. All the work was done in silence and the members of the Wizengamot were silent also as everyone feared talking could be taken as spell casting and the aurors looked ready to cast first, question later.
One of the aurors looked to his team leader who was the commander of the Wizengamot's chamber security and nodded.
"Right. As soon as your replacements arrive, you two take Lord Valcourt to the St. Mungo's prisoner ward. I want a full work-up done for curses and potions. Do not question him. I want to use a team of our best interrogators so as not to activate any Unbreakable Vows. We want names from him." His hard eyes swept the seating tiers. And several members would not return his look.
Within two minutes, another half a dozen aurors entered the tiered area and another pair walked in and took position near the Chief Witch. With a nod the stupefied wizard was levitated onto a conjured stretcher and removed from the chamber.
The Chief Witch, who had been scribbling on a piece of parchment, folded it, handed it off to a page who left, looked around, took a steadying breath and spoke. "Lord Potter-Black. I will not apologize for that person. He will suffer any appropriate consequences of his acts. Will you please continue."
Harry took a moment to gather his shaken nerves and re-don his Lord of the Lords mask.
"Thank you, Chief Witch. To reiterate, I am submitting proofs of analysis by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Gringotts Bank and magically sworn testimony as to my Right of Conquest to the spoils from these rebellious, deceased Lordships and their now heirless Houses."
Harry continued on as he had been coached. "In recent memory it has become normal for some parts of our society to condone and praise the elimination of certain bloodlines simply because of political disagreements." With that sentence, Harry lifted his eyes and blatantly stared at the Dark Alliance section, moving his attention from face to face. "I, upon the other hand, want to bring forth a rebirth of preservation of Houses and bloodlines, and even perhaps an expansion to return our Wizengamot membership to historical levels."
The approving applause started with the members of the Potter Alliance that were going to benefit from Harry gaining control of the heirless Houses, but soon spread throughout most of the assembled Lords.
As the applause subsided, copies of Harry's offered proofs to the claiming of eleven Houses as his own from Right of Conquest, flew from the Chief Scribes desk to each Wizengamot House desk.
Harry entered the final scene of the short one act play that Andromeda, Narcissa, Hermione and Harry had concocted.
Harry spoke over the massive rustling of parchment. "Chief Witch, I propose that we close todays' session and call for a vote on my petition at half ten tomorrow. I will answer questions from our ten o'clock opening until then."
Taking her cue, Augusta Longbottom then spoke in a loud voice. "This opening day session of the two thousand thirty-seventh meeting of the Wizengamot is closed. We will reconvene at ten o'clock tomorrow morning." She rang the chime in front of her. "So mote be it!"
The chamber burst into noise with members yelling incoherently into the mass of sound that covered the chamber. Harry briskly walked up the steps, gathered the Blacks and managed to successfully avoid all those who wanted his attention as the small group escaped through a door out to a hallway. With Narcissa leading the way, the three of them managed to reach the House of Black offices without interception.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
As Harry started asking for closure of the days' session, a shattered Hermione rose on unstable legs from her seat. The attempt to kill Harry had happened so fast that she had not even drawn a breath to scream before it was all over, leaving her shaking at the attempt to once again kill her Harry.
There was still a slight tremor in her voice as she said, "Excuse me Heiress Greengrass, I need to have a word with someone."
Daphne rose also. "Do you want me to accompany you or is this private?"
Hermione stared at gorgeous Heiress that she was now considering to be a . . . rival? Two years ago, she and Daphne had been multi-year library acquaintances with a mutual interest in Charms, Runes and Arithmancy. Now, the ex-Slytherin was, what? Someone who had surprised Hermione as she had uncomplainingly carried her share of the dormitory work load over the summer? One of the Snuggle Witches whom her Harry had slept with and an interest in? A possible ally? The books she had shown her, her answers about them, and her appearance of helpfulness today were an indicator of . . what?
Chocolate brown tried to peer through sapphire blue into a soul.
The soul looked politely back.
With a small sigh, Hermione said. "You may come with me, but I ask your silence about whom and what my business entails."
After a second, Daphne nodded her acceptance.
Hermione walked over to the press balcony and waited for a few minutes. Rita Skeeter soon finished and tucked away her Quik-Quotes Quill and started to leave the balcony.
"Ms. Skeeter, a word with you?" said Hermione.
"Well if it is one of my not so favorite people, "sneered Rita. "Ms. Skeeter? Shows you can take the muggleborn out of the muggle world, but you cannot take the muggle world out of the muggleborn. What do you want Miss Granger?" she spat.
Hermione kept her composure and refused to rise to the unpleasant woman's jibe.
"Miss Skeeter, would you please walk with us to a more private area? I'm sure you do not want to be the cause of idle gossip to be spread around, do you?"
The aging, sour faced bottle blonde, looked suspiciously through her trade mark glasses at the composed teen. She flicked a recognizing glance at Daphne.
The three women found a deserted alcove and Hermione ensured their privacy.
"Well?" demanded the older woman. "What is it you want?"
"Miss Skeeter, I am about to give you your biggest story of the year. Now, I am sure you do not need me to go over the Potter interview ground rules again. You know that if you change anything or misquote him, you will never get another word from his lips to your Dicta Quill. AND you should remember that one of his very best friends is Luna Lovegood, whom now is the owner of the Quibbler. You can be replaced."
Hermione paused to trade glares with the forever bitter reporter in front of her.
"Be at the main entrance to the Wizengamot offices at two o'clock this afternoon. Someone will meet you and take you to the interview room."
Hermione was starting to turn away to leave when she stopped. "For your information, Heiress Greengrass has been most kind in donating her time to help a neophyte member of a newly seated Lord's retinue. I am sure that will not merit a mention in any of your stories. Correct?"
If possible, Skeeter's face became even more sour before she gave a sharp nod and stalked off.
Daphne turned to face Hermione, raised an eyebrow and asked, "Whatever you have on her, could you bottle it and sell me some?"
"Sorry Heiress Greengrass. I have merely an understanding with her. Extortion is illegal in magical Britain." Hermione smiled at her almost friend. "Now, could you please show me the way back to the House Black office?"
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
"That went quite well," proclaimed Narcissa. "Only one assassination attempt."
Harry goggled at her. His nerves were still jangled from the attempted use of the Killing Curse. Upon him.
Going to a side desk, Narcissa grabbed two pieces of parchment and a quill. After dashing off a pair of quick notes, she stood and spoke. "I need a Ministry house elf."
Two seconds later a house elf wearing a pristine pillowcase with the Ministry crest on it appeared. "Deliver this note Regent Bones and this note to Lord Kirkwood at the DMLE, and await a reply." Taking the note, the house elf bowed, and was gone.
"What was that about?" Harry asked.
"The second was note asking Lord Kirkwood to use his floo connection to go home this afternoon after the interview. I think we should take some actions to make assassination attempts harder. The first was a request to Regent Bones to join us for lunch. She should be sympathetic to our cause. Hopefully you did not alienate her when you slept with her over the summer?"
The looks of polite curiosity on the sisters' faces did not change as Harry's face cycled wildly between bloodless pale and crimson flush.
"You notice Sister, that blotchy pale and red splotchy look is most unflattering on our Lord."
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
The next morning the wizards and witches of Great Britain were greeted by the print equivalent of screaming headlines.
Man-Who-Conquered-Conquers-the Wizengamot
By Rita Skeeter
Yes, my loyal and informed readers, due to my long-standing relationship
with the now Man-Who-Conquered, I was there yesterday morning during the
surprise ascension of Lord Harry Potter to the Lordship of the Most Ancient and
Most Noble House of Black!
The new minted Lord Potter-Black then proceeded to stun the Wizengamot and its
observers by proceeding to claim the Lordship of a further eleven Houses!
You read that sentence correctly, my noble and faithful readers.
Lord Potter-Black claims to be the Heir of eleven Houses by
Right of Conquest.
How can he do this, you ask?
Apparently by producing eye witness testimony with Department of Magical
Law Enforcement spell tracing with a dash of Gringotts inheritance magic to show
that he believes he was the cause of the removal of the last Heir of eleven wizarding Houses.
For those gentle readers who are not cognizant of the minutiae involved in PureBlood
Inheritance laws, for Lord Potter-Black to succeed in his quixotic quest he must
prove there are absolutely no heirs remaining from the main branch of the family.
Cadet or disowned, cast out or disinherited branches of the family are not allowed as
claimants to a House Lordship.
Tomorrow the Wizengamot will sit and decide as to the validity of Lord Potter-Black's claims.
Stay with me devoted readers as I will have for you all the information you will need to
follow this Bombarda Maxima story!
Exclusive interview with The-Man-Who-Conquered!
By Rita Skeeter
As all my Loyal and Dedicated readers know, I have a long standing relationship with
The-Boy-Who-Lived who then became The-Man-Who-Conquered.
Yesterday I was fortunate in that he once again asked me to interview him so that he could
explain himself to the multitudes of wizarding Britain.
He requested me for this position due to the strong bond forged between us during his fourth year at Hogwarts.
Readers should recall I had a long interviewin his fifth Hogwart's year concerning his many battles and encounters with Lord Voldemort. This relationship led the young man to asking me to inform my exalted readers of the concern he has for the future of our wizarding world.
He started by saying he thought of this interview as a starting place to talk about:
THE SINS OF TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
"During the rise and reign of the Halfblood Tom Riddle, we lost forty-seven Houses. Some were
Halfblood but the majority were PureBlood. Of those forty-seven, Tom and his deluded
Death Eaters killed off thirty-two Lords, their Heirs and in most cases all of the family members.
Families that were revered in Wizengamot history were flushed away as un-necessary to Riddle's twisted vision. The Bones family lost nineteen members and only Regent Bones survives to attempt to re-build her name. The Prewett's lost fifteen members and only two sisters survive. The family line will probably soon become extinct."
Lord Potter-Black continued. "I was surprised to find the information as to how the supposed champion of wizarding tradition actually destroyed more tradition, and spilled
more supposed Pure Blood, than anyone in the last two centuries.
Riddle cared for nothing in wizarding Britain except his own power. The only time he
cared about tradition was if it gave him more power or control over someone.
"Now we, the Wizengamot, will be given an opportunity to keep many Ancient
and/or Noble Houses from disappearing from our wizarding world"
"Tomorrow, I will save these Houses and return them to prominence in wizarding Britain
they have long been denying themselves."
There you have his very own words, eager readers. Lord Potter-Black intends to somehow keep
eleven of our Houses from becoming extinct.
Follow with me tomorrow as I communicate to you our young Lord's success or failure.
He has set quite a task for himself. One can only hope his youth and inexperience
have not caused him to over reach.
For the complete interview see Page 3.
For a recap of my interview from three years ago, see page 6
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Tuesday, September 21, 1998
It was half seven in the morning as the Black 'family' gathered at the breakfast table. The sisters were finishing reading the Daily Prophet along with their first cup of tea. Hermione's copy of the Prophet was already in Harry's hands as she had finished reading it.
"I see lots of speculation as to how our Lord is going to lead thirteen Houses. But no solid stories on just handing the Lordships to someone else," stated Andromeda as she lowered the paper to watch Harry place another chunk of banana into Teddy's grubby fist where he promptly smushed it before messily cramming the mush in his mouth.
Narcissa merely nodded agreement. Harry kept his mouth shut about the number actually being fifteen. He had not told anyone about the Peverell or Slytherin inheritance yet.
Hermione added nothing to the conversation as she and Harry had talked about what should happen today well into the night before they fell asleep in his bed. After the assassination try upon her friend, her nerves were as taut as a centaur bow string and she had not wanted to sleep alone that night. Her first thought this morning had been how peaceful she had slept, and why was she torturing herself by sleeping alone at the school?
"Because if he only loves you as a sister, it would shatter your heart beyond repair," she answered herself.
Breakfast was served and eaten over the next half hour, Teddy was given into the care of Yula, the new nanny house elf. Their exquisite robes were donned and the group floo'd into the Ministry by half eight. Harry was again caught, de-sooted and the quartet fought their way to the elevators with minimal casualties to the shouting press multitude.
There was a constant stream of Wizengamot members, proxies, fixers, influencers and other people with 'interests' through the Potter office for the next hour. Those who knew the plan were greeted and reassured. Those who were seeking influence or information were also politely greeted, given one minute of platitudes and hustled back out again.
The same was occurring at the House Black office with Narcissa. There the petitioners were hoping to use her influence over the newly revealed Lord. She also passed out sincere greetings, platitudes or a royal sneer depending upon the affiliation of the person attempting to use her.
Fifteen minutes to the hour heralded the arrival of a squad of four aurors who were to be their escort to the Wizengamot chamber. After yesterday's trouble, Lord Kirkwood was taking no chances. All petitioners were swept out of the offices and the one of the oddest 'family' quartets in wizarding history made their way towards the Wizengamot chamber. At the last door, the met the person of Heiress Greengrass. It took less than four words and several speaking looks between Daphne to Hermione, Hermione to Harry, Harry to both Hermione, then Daphne, for Hermione to join Daphne on her way to the Preferred Spectator Gallery.
The gallery was more than three-quarters full already today. They ended up in the front row where the railing partially blocked the view. Daphne was looking out of the corner of her eye at Hermione whose face was mask-like and faint tremors shimmered across her limbs frequently.
In other words, Hermione Granger was once again stretched tighter than an about to break tow hawser. Daphne knew they could not talk here so she did the only idea that occurred to her and placed her hand on top of the hand Granger had setting on her left thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. Hermione blankly looked at the hand laying on hers. Her mind had been in overdrive, considering all that could go wrong, all that could go right, and how either way would affect the world of magic for decades. Suddenly she jerked her hand out from under Greengrass' and then grabbed that hand in the death grip of the drowning. Daphne winced, but said nothing.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Lord Potter-Black swept into the Wizengamot chamber as if he owned it. Andromeda and Narcissa had told him repeatedly that he actually, at this point in time, did own the chamber.
They were both positive they had the votes to carry his Right of Conquest demands and shortly after the new Lords of the conquered Houses presented themselves for their voting investiture, the Potter Alliance would become unstoppable. Now all he had to do was project the air of a mighty Lord who expected he would be given his due.
The assembly was much more decorous this morning. The spectator galleries were tense with speculation. All talk died as the Chief Witch tapped her chime.
"Welcome to the second day of the two thousand and thirty-seventh meeting of the Wizengamot of Greater Britain, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Before we commence, I will announce the following. Lord Onbarstot has been found not to have been under any compulsions for his actions yesterday. He may have failed his parent's attempts at teaching him proper decorum, but he has paid his fine and he is in attendance today."
Lord Onbarstot glared a dirty look at the Chief Witch.
She paused and slowly looked around the tiers. "Lord Valcourt was found to be Imperiused and will be in DMLE custody for some time. The investigation into who is responsible for his condition will be thorough and very painstaking."
That comment led to a susurrus of whispers and looks around. Madame Longbottom looked around despite herself. She also knew there were many more sets of eyes scanning the seats hoping someone there would break enough to make them a suspect.
"Our first order of business is the confirmation by Right of Conquest is the submission of eleven defeated in battle Houses of magical Britain to Lord Potter-Black. His proof of fitness as to his claims have been verified by our own Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Gringotts Bank and sworn eye witness testimony. Lord Potter-Black, would you please take your place at the speaker's podium."
Harry rose and slowly strode with all the dignity and gravitas he could muster down to the podium. It was with a sense of dark humor he saw that the podium had been enlarged and was now of sufficient mass to intercept a Killing Curse.
"Lords of the Wizengamot, you have been furnished with copies of my claims. I will give you thirty minutes to ask any questions or answer any possible refutations of my claim."
A dozen lights lit, demanding the Chief Witch's attention.
"Lord Grosstet, you have the first question," she said.
"My Lord Potter-Black," Grosstet spoke smoothly, "I and several of my colleagues, have candidates who are much more worthy to become the New Heads of House for many of the newly Heirless Houses. We call for a vote to suspend all this fol-de-rol until it can be arranged to have them tested by the Ministry during the next several weeks. I call . . "
"Lord Grosstet," broke in Harry. "In the tiers behind you is Head of Accounts Management 'HisAxBringsDeath', today representing Gringotts bank. Pay the inheritance test fee of your diluted, weakling candidates and we will have answers within minutes."
The silence became intense as the two Lords stared at each other. "Movie Samurai duel, hai!" thought Harry.
Confusion showed in Lord Grosstet bearing and voice. "But Gringott's demands a thousand galleons per test," he almost stuttered.
"Why-y-y, yes it does," spoke Harry in a tone of seeming surprised wonder. His voice hardened as he continued. "I have spent the galleons at Gringotts to assure myself there are no viable candidates for my chattel Houses. It is time for you to spend your galleons to refute me."
Harry peered politely at Grosstet. "Our magical brethren across the pond have a simple saying for this situation." His voice became harsh. "Put up, or shut up."
Unexpectedly to Harry, applause started in the small Light Liberal section of the chamber, but spread rapidly throughout most of the seating.
The Chief Witch waited until the applause started to fade before ringing her chime for order in the chamber. "Lord Grosstet, are you finished?" She waited a moment. Lord Grosstet sat down. "Very well. Lord Heatherun, you have the floor."
"I yield the floor, Madam Chief Witch," came Lord Heatherun's voice.
"Lord Blount, you have the floor?"
"Madam Chief Witch, I must protest this whole proceeding. Those of us who regard ourselves as the bastions of wizarding tradition, (Several snickers and soft laughs broke out in the chamber.) are disconcerted at the lack of notice our young Lord Potter-Black has given us to produce counter-arguments and candidates."
Harry again broke in. "Lord Blount, you have been given twenty-three hours to produce your refutations. (Oh, how Narcissa had drilled him on certain large, stuffy words!) It is not my fault you and your allies have squandered the time away. You now have twenty-two minutes remaining until the vote. I suggest you take advantage of that wizarding invention called the floo."
Again, soft laughter and chuckles from Harry's supporters greeted his sally.
"Lord McMillian, you have the floor."
"Chief Witch, exalted colleagues, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Man-Who-Conquered, has complied with our traditions and our laws in this matter. Gringotts can find no errors in his parchment work. The Ministry lawyers find no mistakes in his methods or proceedings. Even our own Wizengamot Law Checkers can find no possible refutation of his claims. And remember, our Wizengamot has rewarded the prowess upon the battlefield of House of Potter in the past. It is one of those valued traditions my colleagues keep harping about." McMillian stated as his eyes swept the Dark ranks.
Lord McMillian sat and Harry turned and bowed deeply. "My Lord, I thank you and treasure your kind words."
"Lord Uttuxbridge, you have the floor," intoned the Chief Witch.
"My Lords, we have before us . . ." And Lord Uttuxbridge then proceeded to try to put the Wizengamot to sleep. "Great Merlin," thought Harry after five minutes. "We have found a replacement for Professor Binns if we want to keep History of Magic as a class we will be able to take a kip in."
The man kept droning on and on. Harry actually was having trouble not zoning out right there in front of the Wizengamot. "Death by Narcissa, death by Narcissa, painful death by Narcissa if I fall asleep" Harry kept chanting in his mind.
Suddenly, virtually everyone in the chamber started as the Chief Witch rang her chime.
"Our apologies, Lord Uttuxbridge," spoke the Chief Witch loudly. "However time for debate is almost over, and Lord Heatherun is demanding an inheritance test for the House of . . ."
"Flint, Madam Chief Witch. Young Basil here has been associated with Marius Flint. I demand a test now." Heatherun finished glaring at Harry.
"I am not the person giving the tests, Lord Heatherun. Take the young man to HisAxBringsDeath and have him give the test," Harry riposted in an uncaring tone of voice.
A young boy of perhaps twelve years was led over to the low partitioned off area where HisAxBringsDeath was seated. Harry could see the boy flinch at having his hand cut for the ritual thirteen drops of blood needed. Harry could see the soaking was finished and the magical parchment was removed from the bowl.
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Hermione was learning that being a brilliant witch does not prepare a person for the slow motion tension inherent in a vital Wizengamot vote. Andromeda and Narcissa had tried to assure her the vote was a shoo-in. But Hermione had lived through seven years of Harry Potter luck. Unlike the sisters, she was very aware of how Harry's fortunes could change in a heartbeat.
She sat in the spectator gallery next to Heiress Daphne Greengrass who inexplicably seemed to be trying to reassure and encourage her. Hermione's brain was swinging between what Harry was saying, watching the effects on Wizengamots member's faces and suddenly having allies speak in his favor. Lord Uttuxbridge's monotone drone had Hermione switching back to Greengrass again. What did she want from Harry that she thought would require getting Hermione to approve? If she fancied Harry, she should be trying to supplant Hermione. Not become friendly with her.
Suddenly, Hermione's anxiety spiked again as Lord Heatherun brought forth his candidate for the Lordship of House of Flint. The boy was a perfect patsy from Lord Heatherun's viewpoint.
Young, probably impressionable, the boy would need a guardian directing his every move. Perfect.
Hermione continued to virtually worry her lower lip to shreds as unknowingly as she had just spent almost half an hour trying to crush Daphne's hand.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Heatherun was visibly unsatisfied with the results. With a cuff on his shoulder, the boy was shoved in the direction of a robed and hooded woman who led him out of the chamber via a door in the upper corner of the chamber. Harry gave Narcissa what he hoped was a significant look and a Wizengamot page soon scurried out of the chamber with a note in hand.
"Lord Heatherun, you have information for the assembly?" Harry politely asked.
"The boy has not the blood of Marius Flint in his veins," grumped a visibly upset Lord Heatherun.
Harry allowed himself a small smile. "Now that the la . ."
"Chief Witch. May I be indulged for one short question please," came a voice from two rows in back of the House Black seats.
Madam Longbottom looked at Harry who after a moment nodded slightly.
"Lord Selhunter, make your question short or next time I will not be so indulgent," she said.
The now identified Lord Selhunter gave an abbreviated bow to the Chief Witch and spoke.
"Lord Potter-Black, you have stated, nay even promised, that your supposed Right of Conquest House's will not disappear from Britain. Could you explain to the Wizengamot just how you are going to do that?"
Harry stared back at the man, than turned to the Chief Witch.
"Madam Chief Witch, we are not scheduled to meet on Friday to decide which new legislation proposed today will survive scrutiny to be voted upon during our Winter Solstice Session?"
Madam Longbottom nodded.
Harry turned back to Lord Selhunter. "You and the Wizengamot will be informed on Friday as to how I shall salvage part of our world from the disastrous stewardship of that maniac, Tom Riddle." Harry paused a heartbeat. "And his supporters."
As thunderous applause broke out in the Chamber and the spectator areas, Harry turned once again to the Chief Witch.
"Madam Chief Witch, I call for a vote."
Augusta nodded slowly and rose to her feet behind her desk. "The vote to approve Lord Potter-Black's gaining by Right of Conquest from honourable battle, the vaults, properties and chattels of eleven Houses of the wizard nation of Greater Britain will now commence. Vote Yea to approve, Nay to disapprove."
The blue Nay column started its climb with a rush as the Dark alliance voted en masse against The-Man-Who-Conquered. The glowing red vertical column that tallied the Yea votes climbed slowly. Harry watched stone faced as the Nay column stopped rising. It was soon surpassed by the Yea column and at the end, there were more Yeas than Nays.
Madam Longbottom struck her chime and announced, "By a vote of thirty-eight Yeas to thirty-four Nays, the Right of Conquest vote for Lord Potter-Black is approved. So mote be it!"
Applause with thunderous cheers exploded from the visitors galleries and throughout the chamber as with a sweeping bow to the Chief Witch and the tiers where most of his supporters were, Lord Potter-Black climbed up to the House Black seats and sat. "Yep, gotta do that with dignity before my legs collapse," thought Harry.
The next hour of the Wizengamot's time was taken up by a series of new legislation bills being introduced that would be given a preliminary vote on Friday. If passed, the final vote on the legislation would be during the Winter Solstice meeting. If voted down, the legislation could not be re-introduced for six months.
At the end of only that hour, Harry was heartily sick of politics. A lifetime of this was going to succeed where Tom had failed. It was going to kill him.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Harry had one final act to perform before the Wizengamot part of his day would be done. The House Potter office was crowded with the Sisters, Hermione, Susan Bones and the twenty Lords and Heirs who were to become Lords on Friday gathered before they left for Gringotts to tidy up the final parchment work since the Wizengamot vote had been in Harry's favor. Harry did not have to go to Gringotts. He had, sort of, believed the Black sister's that he would win in the Wizengamot and had already signed his parchment work for the Conquest documents.
Harry raised his arms and after quiet descended upon the room, he spoke. "I thank you for your support today, and I thank you in advance for your support on Friday. I know it seems short and abrupt of me but we have three students whom are in their NEWT year and have missed almost two days of classes."
Harry turned to Ernest McMillian. "Ernie, or should I say Lord Nott-to-be, you and Neville are stuck for another couple of hours. Meet us back in the common room and we will all try to catch up on our studies, alright?"
Ernie nodded, and extended his hand to Harry. "Just don't let Entwhistle take the seat next to Hermione and she will get me caught up in no time."
"Shitte, shitte, shitte, shitte, shitte, shitte, shitte!
"I'll see what I can do, Ernie," Harry replied with a sickly smile.
A/N
Almost to the end of the first snowball of the avalanche.
I'll try not to be so politically detail oriented and should be able to skim
over the ten new Wizengamot investitures coming in the next chapter.
Remember, the eleventh House is Matrilineal. Wanna guess who gets the call?
Hermione: Interest by Entwhistle, interest (?) by Ernie.
And interest by Daphne? Hmmmmm.