Chapter 35

Eugenia Jenkins had been a capable Minister of Magic for the dates in which she ruled over the wizarding world of England. No one could deny that she had been more than capable of dealing with the pureblood riots that had occurred during the Squib Rights Marches during the late 1960's.

It was why when the news of Dark wizards, namely pureblood wizards, had started protesting muggleborn rights in their world, everyone had turned once again to Jenkins, believing that she would be more than capable of dealing with yet another sort of riots.

Of course, it wasn't a matter of mere protesting, as it had been a few years ago. No, it was greater than that now. It had to do with violence and attacks, deaths at their doorsteps, and so many of different blood statuses being scared for their lives.

So while Eugenia Jenkins might have been more than capable of dealing with a political protest, she most definitely was not capable of dealing with the war that was yet to come.

And while the Wizengamot was hopeful it wouldn't come to that, Fleamont knew better than to place all his quaffles in that net. He knew it was likely that those insisting it wouldn't go to war were running off of fear of what another wizarding war would do to them, or the belief that if they did go to war, the side they belonged to, the small Dark faction who supported this Voldemort, would win. And while England might have been able to have escaped the last war, due to Grindelwald's fear of Dumbledore, they had still read the papers of the horrors that had occurred. They still knew what could happen to them if things got as bad as it had been during Grindelwald's peak terror of reign. And that was absolutely the last thing that any of them had wanted.

It was why the vote had been almost unanimous that day in Wizengamot, to oust Eugenia Jenkins as the Minister of Magic. For once she was a capable witch in charge, she was not capable of dealing with such a crisis this time around.

The vote to elect a new Minister had been close. While a lot of the Dark faction had wanted to elect an older official such as Abraxas Malfoy or Thaddeus Nott, and the Light once again threw out a nomination for Albus Dumbledore, who swiftly declined, and replaced his own nomination with that of Elphias Doge. Of course the old man would nominate someone whom he considered a close ally, and thus someone he would be able to easily manipulate if he so needed to.

It was Harold Minchum, who the neutrals nominated, that got the majority of the votes, and thus became the new Minister of Magic.

Thank Merlin for that. They needed someone Grey at the moment. Not a Dark wizard who clearly supported Voldemort and would push forwards pieces of legislation that benefited their cause, or another Light wizard who would spew anti-dark policies out of fear, and thus force more dark wizards over to Voldemort's side out of fear of persecution. No, a Grey wizard could for them in these trying times and might even be enough to stop the rising horrors that were Voldmort and the reign of terror which he wished to inflict on the world around them.

With Minchum, and Bartemius Crouch, the ruthless Council of Magical Law judge, who was well on his way to becoming the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, their side may just stand a chance at bringing down the threat that was Voldemort and the horrors he planned to bring down on their door step.

He wasn't necessarily pleased by the turn of events, but he knew that the Wizarding world would not be able to go without retaliation for long. Especially with the recent attack on muggle London still fresh on so many of their minds, it was no surprise that they wanted a change, that they demanded something be done to make up for the mass loss of life that had occurred on all their watches. For they had allowed Voldemort to gain as much power as they had without stopping him or trying to put an end to it.

With his own son who would be going into his fifth year of schooling very soon, and his daughter who was finishing her third year of school, he didn't want this to be a problem that dragged on for too long. He wanted it resolved, sooner rather than later, so his children would not have to fight in this war that was coming their way. They deserved a chance at a normal life, which didn't involve them facing a war. He knew all too well what it was like, growing up with war all around him, the fear and the pain he had felt all too fresh in his mind from when Grindelwald nearly took control over all of Europe just a few decades ago. He didn't want that as a life for his children, to be fighting in wars that children had no place in. He wanted them to have normal lives, to fall in love, to have children and great careers. He wanted them to know nothing of suffering or pain. He wanted them to live lives where they could grow to be successful and never have to worry about the horrors that Voldemort could bring down on them all.

He locked eyes with his brother-in-law from across the chambers and could see a similar look of contemplation over the man's face. They would have a lot to discuss in their coming meetings, such as how to ensure that this Minchum character would be what was best for their political agendas. They couldn't have a Minister who went corrupt due to pockets that opened all too easily. No, they needed someone who would put an end to this problem once and for all, so it would not drag out for decades to come.

It was the end of May before the boys were able to finally make it all the way through a successful iteration of the process of becoming animagi without messing up any of the steps and having to start once again. Something which had happened far too many times over the years for James to want to have to go through again. He loved Remus, the boy was his brother, and he would go through the process as many times as they needed to, to finally get it right. But it didn't make it any less frustrating each time when they got it wrong and had to repeat the process over again. He swore the taste of mandrake was becoming permanent in his mouth.

It didn't help at all that for a country that was almost always filled with rain, June didn't seem to rain at all. It was unusually sunny and dry, meaning the chances of an electrical storm were extremely rare, despite the fact that James and Sirius checked the weather using the necessary spells almost several times a day. It also didn't help that since they were trying to keep it a secret, they had to sneak out early every morning and late every night to chant the incantation every sunrise and sunset while they waited for the storm to occur.

It meant that the boys had not gotten a lot of sleep lately, and he knew it was beginning to show on their faces by the way Hermione kept shooting them worried looks. He couldn't tell her though, how could he when he knew what they were doing was dangerous? When she would be scared out of her mind to know why they wanted to become animagi. It was one thing to support their friend who when through the process. It was a completely other thing to want to run around with him month after month so he didn't have to go through the entire process alone. He knew it was stupid and reckless of them. But he also knew that it wouldn't be enough to stop them, not when they were tired of watching Remus beat himself up month after month for something he had no control over. Not when they were absolutely tired of watching him get hurt because of it. He deserved far better than that, and he deserved to know that he was loved.

And if they had to go through the entire cycle once more to become an animagi then they would, again and again until they got it right, because Remus deserved to face it with people he loved and knew loved him. He deserved that much. So they would do whatever it took to finally get it right.

"James!" Peter said running into the room, as James sat on his bed, tossing a quaffle into the air as he nearly missed it on its way back down due to the interruption.

"Peter," he said, as he caught it at the last minute, before sitting up, "What's up, Mate? You terrified me."

Peter looked around the dorm quickly, to make sure Remus wasn't there, and of course he wasn't. He was busy in the library with his sister doing some last-minute studying for their exams, despite the fact that he knew all too well that neither of them needed it.

"There's a storm coming," Peter said, "It got dark all of a sudden before anyone knew it. It should start raining any moment now."

He stood up quickly and pulled out the potion they had been brewing for the last few months this time around, as he grabbed the set of instructions.

"We need a large place," James said, "We should go to the Astronomy tower. Not many people go up there during storms, despite it being perfectly safe."

Peter nodded, as he and James picked up all the supplies.

"Raining!" Sirius said huffing, as he ran into the room and he tried to catch his breath. "It's time."

"We need to go," James nodded, as the boys ran towards the tower, dodging all the students they saw. They ducked around several teachers, not stopping to explain themselves. It would do no good to get caught now. Not when they were so close to finally getting it right.

They made their way up the stairs to the tower, and to their relief, it was perfectly empty.

The rain began to pour harder, as thunder rumbled in the background when they entered the tower.

"We need to chant the incantation," Sirius said, reading off their parchment of instructions, "Then drink the potion."

"That's it?" Peter squealed.

"Did you want it to be harder?" James asked him with a shake of his head, "After every other step of this process, we could use a simple step."

They stood around in a circle as they placed their wands to their chest "Amato Animo Animato Animagus," They chanted in unison as the lighting began to strike around them. "Amato Animo Animato Animagus."

Their wands glowed brightly and after it died out, Sirius held up his vial of potion, as each of the boys did the same. He held it up to them, "Bottoms up," he said, and James grinned.

"It's finally time," he murmured, before raising his vial of potion to his lips, and drank it slowly.

He tried not to make note of the taste, and before he could say anything, he felt his bones shift inside of him, changing and growing as he felt himself transform for the very first time. He looked around to where Sirius and Peter were standing to see a dog and rat in their places. Whatever he was, he was a lot taller than them both. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window pane and saw a stag looking back at him. He grinned at the boys as he turned back to his human self.

"We finally did it!" James said, with a cheer. "Now we can join Remus."

"Now we have to convince Remus to let us join him," Sirius corrected, and Peter groaned. Because that was probably the hardest step of it all.

"We can't do anything until September anyways," James reminded them, "His father will definitely not let us join him. So we tell him then what we've done, and we convince him to let us join him."

They all nodded in agreement. The days of Remus suffering alone were long gone.

Draco sat in their section of the library as he watched Hermione attempt to meditate upon her Animagus form. It wasn't a step taken by many, as it wasn't always necessary. However, by doing so, it meant that the two of them would have a bit more control over the form their Animagus shape would take.

And while there was nothing wrong with simply going about the regular process, but by choosing to mediate then they would be able to decide their fate. Or at least be aware of what their form would be before they went through the remainder of the process. If any of them were turning into rats any time soon, at least they would be aware of it.

If they were going to go through all the work to become animagi, then the least they could do was at least carry out all the steps properly to ensure that they did it as were trying to gain a skill that not many full-grown witches and wizards were able to achieve properly. Of course, it did help that they weren't exactly the average teenage witch or wizard, and far more skills under their robes than many others did.

The only problem involved the fact that it involved meditation, a skill with no way of being able to tell if they were doing it right. Not unless one were completely focused with every single fibre of their being concentrating solely on the animagi process to determine what their shape was.

And for Hermione to have to turn off her mind at any given moment and focus solely on one singular thing was rather hard for her. It was something he knew all too well as he watched her nose scrunch up as she tried hard to focus only on one thing and let her mind forget everything. He watched her try and push out all other thoughts of how she felt with the war beginning to pick up all around them, or why she wanted to become an Animagus so badly. He watched her, knowing her mind was still racing, thinking a billion and a half different things, instead of being able to just recite the incantation over and over again as her mind remained clear and on the task on hand.

She let out a sigh and he couldn't bring himself to look away at her, as her hair was pushed behind her ears and her face looking exhausted as she tried over and over again to bring herself to concentrate. Her robes were slightly disheveled from having attempted meditating successfully for several hours, with no success. Her lips were chapped from biting, and her eyes looked worn out.

It hit him like a train, as he found himself staring at the girl before him: she was still beautiful, even in her state of exhaustion. It was hard to deny it, especially having been given a past life with her. She was beautiful then, just as she was now.

It wasn't as if he had ever attempted to deny that fact from himself, at least the older he got. At first, he hated it. He hated the fact that he was so attracted to her, when she was supposed to be his enemy. The girl who was best friends with his nemesis, and who she would most likely end up with. The girl who was everything he was taught to hate, and yet, was everything he wanted. The girl who defied all odds time and time again, and always came out on top. The girl who fought a war for what she believed in. The girl who punched him in the face all those years ago. The girl who had gone back in time with to try and save the world. The only one in the entire universe who knew the truth of what was to come, and the only one who knew the horrors they had faced.

Even when he felt stressed out of his damned mind, she was there to understand just what they had gone through. She was there to allow him to feel as if he wasn't truly alone and that they would bear it together. They would fight in this together.

It was exactly why he couldn't tell her the truth of how he felt. That he cared about her, that he had cared about her even before they had left, despite not having the time or emotional strength to figure out that he had feelings for her then. How could he when people were dying all around them? How could he now when people were starting to die around them once more?

It didn't matter if he cared for her, not when there was a war at their doorsteps. Not when so many would die if he allowed himself to get distracted. How could he even think of telling her about how he felt when he knew that she would never jeopardize the future as a result of his feelings.

They came back to save everyone, not for him to fall in love with her and ruin everything.

It didn't matter that every time he took her hand in his, he felt safe with her, felt at home with her. It didn't matter that he would gladly do whatever ridiculous thing she wanted, like run around with a werewolf every full moon. That he would follow her into this battle, fighting right alongside with her.

Now was not the time for his feelings.

Dumbledore paced around his study, growing frustrated as he threw yet another article on his desk about how some writer for the Prophet believed that this so-called Lord Voldemort could be the best thing for politics in a while. That he offered a different suggested to the so called only correct way of thinking.

That it was time for a change, and time that people were allowed to feel about magic the way the wanted to once more, without having fear of retribution. Which was absolutely ridiculous. Dark Magic was dark for a reason. It involved hurting innocents with magic to achieve one's goal. Something he knew all too well.

He had lost his own Arianna because he had been obsessed with the power that Dark magic could afford him. The power it gave, and the desire to obtain the Deathly Hallows. A power he craved so badly, that his sister had been lost, and his brother stopped talking to him. It was why he stopped being a grey wizard when he stopped practising Dark magic all together, focusing solely on the light. It was why he had brought down Grindelwald, his once love, as he had been corrupted by the darkness, and had lost himself. He had hurt, killed, so many innocents in order to achieve his goals.

Dark magic was evil, it really was. It burned through a witch or wizard and corrupted their very soul. It left only a shell of them behind. And he had seen it happen first hand. It was why he tried to save Britain, by pushing them towards a lighter future. It was why he tried to steer Slytherins away from the darkness, even if it meant unfairly punishing them to get them to see that their ways were wrong. He just wanted to save them from what happened to Gellert. He couldn't watch yet another person go down that road of darkness, only to return a shadow of who they once were. To be so consumed by the darkness that they couldn't see what they were doing was incredibly wrong.

And yet, history was repeating itself. Here was a younger wizard, who claimed the same things Gellert did. That it was time they stopped hiding in the shadows from muggles. That they deserved to live in the light once more. That he would do whatever it took for them to save themselves from subjugation.

It was the same things Gellert and he had spewed all those years ago; For The Greater Good. Just wrapped around different words and decades later.

But he had seen the horrors that such words had brought. He had hidden from it for years, unable to see the man whom he had loved, who had killed his sister, knowing that it would have to be him who brought down his love. It would have to be him who stopped him before he went too fall and brought the world down to ashes.

And here it was, happening again decades later.

He had known the moment he laid eyes on Tom Riddle. Known he carried the same darkness that Gellert once carried. That he took carried at one time. That he would go on to do the same horrible things that Gellert once did. That he would want the same power. He saw it when Riddle spoke of how he controlled those kids in the orphanage. How the students at school flocked to his side. How the girls wanted to marry him, and the boys gladly followed every word he said, and did every single thing he instructed. How the teachers were wrapped tightly around his finger. How he was able to spin any tale if necessary. And no one, except he, could see the same shadow of Gellert in him. The desire to bring down the world to its knees.

Perhaps it had been only because he knew Gellert as a child that he could see the same connection.

It was why when this Lord Voldemort surfaced that he knew immediately that it was Tom Riddle. Because he had all but vanished after Dumbledore had refused him the job. And it was only a matter of time before he surfaced, demanding the power he craved. Demanding the world follow him blindly, no matter the consequence.

It was how he also knew that Riddle was involved in all the attacks that had been taking place. It couldn't be a coincidence; that the moment a man showed up, saying he could save them all from the chains that they had all but been placed in by the Statute, that attacks on the very people who "chained" them occurred.

But he had no proof. He could hardly go to the Minister and let him know what he did. Not when all he had was mere speculation, even if he knew it to be true.

And the Aurors were trying, they really were. But they never knew when the attacks would occur until it was too late. They never knew what would happen until it already did. And by then it was far too late to do anything. It was too late for them to be able to stop the chaos that had already occurred.

It wasn't enough. Not when there were those in the Ministry who would be happy to follow this Voldemort into battle, regardless of the consequences of such actions. Not when there were those who knew exactly what would happen and did it anyways.

It would be up to him to bring down this Voldemort, just as it had been up to him to bring down Gellert.

But he wasn't as young as he once was. He knew he still was perhaps the most powerful wizard in the world. But he needed spies to pass him information. He needed more ears that could hear what was happening, and more people with control in the Wizengamot. He needed more wands to fight by his side in order for them to succeed.

He needed something Light to counteract the Darkness. A Light Order that would bring down the darkness once and for all.