Fighting Back
1953 – 1955
The next three years were incredibly difficult. Septimus watched in horror as the Dark families began to unite, one by one, in a way that made it clear they were being led. Led by a capable and clever commander, no less. The sort of person Hitler had been before he went insane, was Septimus' best guess. Someone smooth and suave and with a gilded tongue.
Worse, the Light and Neutral families were beginning to fall apart into tiny, squabbling factions that disagreed vehemently and sometimes violently on nearly every issue. The end result was that the Dark families were getting more and more stringent laws passed simply because the other families couldn't get their heads out of their asses long enough to work together and vote the laws down.
Worse was the fact that Dumbledore was gaining followers. By the time 1955 rolled around, Dumbledore led the largest Light-side faction. While that wasn't saying much at that point given that the other Light and Neutral factions had as few as three people in them, Dumbledore had been very clever with his faction. He may only have had a half dozen or so people in his group, but they were some of the biggest shakers and movers, which gave Dumbledore's faction both added potency in the Wizengamot and greater legitimacy.
What pissed Septimus off was the fact that while Dumbledore had a strong power base, he did not seem to be doing much of anything with it. He seemed to be more interested in rhetoric than in action. Septimus had heard him talking to people more than once about how this or that thing was wrong, but he never took a stand. Worse, the people around him seemed to be eating it up.
The biggest problem there was the fact that one of Dumbledore's followers was Charlus' father. He pretty much thought that Dumbledore was the best thing since sliced bread, and every word that came out of Dumbledore's mouth was gospel. Dumbledore was not shy about using that to his advantage. Due to what Dumbledore was doing, Septimus strongly suspected that Dumbledore was aware of the fact that he, Harfang, and Charlus had plans for the Wizengamot once all three of them were in there.
There was no other explanation for the fact that Dumbledore convinced Charlus' father that there was absolutely no need to step down as Head. He managed to convince his father that Charlus was young and intemperate, and as yet ill suited to the responsibility. Charlus was honestly worried that Dumbledore would somehow convince his father to refuse Charlus the title entirely if at all humanly possible, and force them to wait for Charlus' child to grow old enough to take the mantle. They were just lucky that was the only choice left due to the fact that there were no other Potters, otherwise Charlus was very sure Dumbledore would have convinced his father to choose another heir. As it stood, until his father either wised up - which was highly unlikely - or died, his father would be heeding Dumbledore and voting as Dumbledore suggested.
Not a one of Dumbledore's voting 'suggestions' sat right with any of the Marauders. In line with his habit of talking and not acting, Dumbledore was content to vote for all but the absolute worst of the Dark-sponsored laws. He told everyone who heeded his opinion to do likewise, and assured them that it was best to humor their compatriots. That the folks who sponsored the laws would come to see the error of their thinking in time, and the laws could easily be repealed when they had.
The wrong-headedness of that sort of thinking made Septimus long to call the old man out and hex him to bits. Unfortunately, there was no real way to do so, as Dumbledore was careful to never cross the line into giving offense. Not with Septimus, and not with anyone else. Actually, Dumbledore made it a real point to seem to be the reasonable one at every opportunity. It just added to his influence. He was the wise, reasonable, mature one, while people around him flew off the handle like the children they were. Septimus himself barely managed to keep from falling into that particular trap. Harfang had better luck because of his quiet personality - he just didn't react violently to things. Charlus and Septimus could only grit their teet and whinge in private.
As the second leg in his attempt to de-fang the Marauders before they could do much of anything in the Wizengamot, Dumbledore was directly targeting Septimus and Cedrella in several ways. He seemed to do a lot of whispering about the fact that Cedrella was a Black and a Slytherin, and that she was corrupting Septimus and turning him Dark. Septimus was honestly waiting for the day when Dumbledore overstepped himself in that regard, because Cedrella's revenge would be ... impressive.
Fortunately, Dumbledore's manipulations didn't seem to be working. Yet. A lifetime of solid work ethic, incorruptible morals and a history of standing up for what was right was standing Septimus in good stead, as was his record as a war hero. It didn't hurt that Harfang and Charlus backed him at every turn. Though, in his bitterer moments, Septimus fully expected Dumbledore to eventually try to cast aspersions on them publicly as well, given he'd begun to do so privately with Charlus. They had, after all, also married into the Black family and ergo were going Dark - at least by Dumbledores' logic.
Septimus grudgingly gave credit where it was due and acknowledged Dumbledore's wisdom in not trying to trash-talk Harfang to Augusta. That would end spectacularly badly for Dumbledore, because Augusta was fierce in a way seldom seen in women of her generation. She'd been active on the dueling circuit when she'd been younger for crying out loud. That was all but unheard of in a woman in her day. Her hex-first-question-later tendencies had only gotten worse when she'd finally found her feet after her husband's death. Despite her advanced age and the fact they were all adults, she was a violently protective mama dragon where her children were concerned.
The whole mess with Dumbledore made Septimus long for their school days so he could prank him into submission and have done. He could target half the rest of the Wizengamot while he was at it. It wasn't like schoolyard pranks would be beneath the Wizengamot's collective maturity level.
Cedrella got pregnant again and gave birth to a second son in 1953, much to their mutual delight. Two years later, Harfang and Callidora produced their firstborn, a son they named Frank. Septimus quickly discovered that becoming a godfather was nearly as much fun as becoming a father, and doted on young Frank nearly as much as his parents did.
The Marauders had decided shortly after Harfang and Callidora had married that they'd be godparents to each others' children when the time came. Being a godparent, unlike in the muggle world, was a solemn, magically-bound duty. It was the godparents' place to raise, care for, and defend their godchild. They were even supposed to defend the child against its own parents if the parents became abusive. To not do so carried heavy magical penalties, up to and including the loss of one's magic if the situation was dire enough.
More than one eyebrow was raised in the general populace at the idea of Septimus being godparent to the child of such a high-ranking family when the news broke. Fortunately there hadn't been a damn thing anyone could do about it, not even Dumbledore. The fact that the Longbottoms trusted Septimus to raise their kid right - including full knowledge of their social station and everything that went with that - went a very, very long way to permanently silencing the doubters that still wondered about the new Weasley Head. It did more, ironically enough, than the fact that the Weasleys were enjoying a fiscal plentitude they'd not had in hundreds of years.
Speaking of fiscal plentitude, shortly after his position as godfather became public knowledge, Septimus began to get letters from the members of the family outside the UK, all of them thanking and praising him for his advice, and how much it was helping their own private financial statuses. He'd also been able to increase the stipend family members received, something that hadn't happened since their financial ruin. Septimus figured that in a generation or two, if their fortune continued to grow, they'd be able to buy back the Weasley heirlooms that had been sold to pay off the debt. Records had been kept of who had bought what, thank goodness.
Nineteen fifty-five marked the end of an ancient tradition. That year, the Children's Ball was called off for the first time in close to a thousand years. The squabbling between families had gotten to the point where each faction only wanted to interact with their fellows. No one had been able to agree on who would host that year's Ball, as every name put forward had significant numbers of families flatly refusing to attend.
The Marauders agreed that it was just shy of being a literal crime that the Ball was called off. Sadly, none of them could figure out how to fix the situation. They could see it degenerating, and could pretty much tell where it was going to end. It was going to end in blood and pain and death, and none of the Marauders wanted to see that shit again in their lifetimes. Sadly, it was looking more and more likely that they would.
The only good news in all that mess was that Arcturus wasn't falling in with the Dark crowd. At least not yet. He consistently voted against the increasingly controlling laws in the Wizengamot, and refused to be seen with the Heads of the Dark-aligned families. He'd also apparently seen the same pattern that the Marauders had, and had become more than a little paranoid about his health and safety. He wore dueling armor constantly to protect himself from being hexed whenever he wasn't alone. From what Septimus had heard, Arcturus was also obsessive about testing his food and drink for contaminants. Given what had happened with Sirius, Septimus didn't blame the man one bit.
Much to everyone's mutual relief, Orion and Walburga had gone quiet, as if they knew they couldn't afford to pull anything else without all hell breaking loose. They'd retired to their home, seemingly content to sit back and wait. Septimus made sure he kept on top of where they were and what they were doing, just in case. He doubted they were done with their scheming.
Then, in August, Charlus' father got hit by one of those illnesses the elderly fall prey to … and didn't recover from it. As when Harfang's father had died, the Marauders closed ranks around Charlus, providing him with as much support as they could. The day after the funeral, the Marauders met.
"My father went to his grave questioning my judgment and calling me a willful child." Charlus growled, glaring at the table. "I am never going to forgive Dumbledore for that. Not as long as I live."
Despite the anger in his voice, Septimus was pretty sure Charlus was close to tears. Not that Septimus blamed him a bit. Losing a parent at all had to be hard. Losing a parent under these circumstances had to be doubly so.
"I don't blame you." Septimus said. "I'm probably lucky I got the Headship before Dumbledore found his feet in the Wizengamot, or he'dve tried the same thing on my old man." Then Septimus laughed. "And gotten hexed halfway to hell for it, Azkaban sentence for dueling in the chambers be damned."
That made both men smile, if only briefly in Charlus' case. Septimus' parents weren't quite on Augusta's level of protective, but they weren't far from it. Dumbledore would have paid dearly for any trash-talking. It made Septimus feel more than a little badly that Charlus' father hadn't had that same sort of streak in him.
"We're in for a hell of a fight, guys. I honestly don't know if we can turn this around." Harfang said quietly, bringing up what they'd gotten together to discuss. "Things have degenerated so badly in so short a time."
"Someone is definitely pulling the Dark Families' strings." Septimus agreed. "If we can figure out who and how, we might be able to nullify the worst of their venom. Neutralizing Dumbledore's going to be even harder. He makes it look like he's invested in the Light winning, but if you actually pay attention … "
"He does the absolute minimum required to make it look like he's trying to fight the Dark families' voting block, and then a whole lot of talking to explain why it's not working, and talking people into not making a stand, because they need to give these people a chance to realize the error of their ways, a chance to return to the Light, blah blah blah." Harfang continued. "It's really irritating."
"So we need to come up with a bomb-proof plan to shove this shit back down his throat, and cut the Darks off at the knees." Charlus says, getting a look on his face that Septimus and Harfang know very well.
It has never ceased to amaze Septimus, but he could literally *see* when Charlus' tactician brain swung into gear. Charlus got this squinty-eyed, flinty look on his face, eyes flicking back and forth like he could actually see the plan his brain was cooking up playing out in front of him. Without a word, Septimus shoved a roll of parchment, quill and ink into Charlus' line of sight. Seconds later, Charlus was scribbling things down in a shorthand that only he ever seemed to be able to make sense of, despite him having tried to explain it to Septimus and Harfang on multiple occasions.
Harfang shot Septimus an amused look while they let Charlus mutter and scribble as he plotted. Septimus returned it, and felt vaguely grateful. If there was anything that would ease Charlus' grief and anger, it was plotting the downfall of the man who'd hurt him so badly.
After about ten minutes, Charlus glanced up and grinned. "I think I've got a plan."
"Talk to us, Charlus." Harfang said.
"The families are dividing into factions, right? Well … what if we do something that negates a lot of that?"
"Like what?" Septimus wanted to know.
"Use the pureblood fanaticism and rank-consciousness against itself." Charlus said. "Think. Just how many families have married into the Blacks? How many families could Arcturus influence if he put his foot down?"
Septimus' eyes went wide. "Merlin. That's … "
"Vicious, brutal, brilliant, and just might work." Harfang put in his two knuts, looking as startled as Septimus. "The challenge will be to get him to listen to us."
"Send Cedrella after him. He knows damn good and well she was Sirius' favorite of the girls, and the most political savvy of the lot. If she backs this, he might be more willing to listen." Septimus said.
"We won't get the Heads, not right away." Charlus said. "But with the various wives, children, and so on of Black blood putting pressure on their non-Black relations, it will eventually move up the food chain, and force the Heads to act, one way or another, Light, Dark, or Neutral."
"At absolute worst, it'll clear up the battle lines a bit. At best, it might just shut the worst of the squabbling down entirely." Septimus said with a nod. "Either way, it'll help by hitting pretty much all sides of the fight at once."
Because the Blacks, as one of the more prolific families, had intermarried with literally every other pureblood family. Heck, they came close to doing it every generation, for crying out loud. And as one of the oldest of the pureblood families, what the Head of that family did and said carried immense weight.
"In the meantime, the three of us start agitating to get those laws removed, and vote any new ones down." Harfang said. "With any luck, we can keep things from getting too much worse before Charlus' idea starts bearing fruit."
"They want a war? We'll give them one. Just not the sort they were expecting." Charlus said.