Better Be Slytherin
LXVI
Ministry Reform

The weeks went on and Death Eaters continued pursing Voldemort's goal after he died - to clear Wizarding Britain of Muggleborns, so the Aurors were busy chasing them and people still didn't feel fully safe with them on the loose.

Potter had been in hiding for a month now, Draco read in Hogsmeade Today, a local newspaper. Draco couldn't blame him, he probably needed some peace and quiet to say the least. Potter's birthday was declared a Bank Holiday, and Harry Potter merchandise began emerging. Walking down Diagon Alley you could see Harry Potter mugs, tea cozies, paintings and hats. Even ink bottles with his face on. It made Draco roll his eyes.

Augustus Rookwood, the old Death Eater, released an autobiography about his involvement with the Death Eaters as some sort of plea to reinvent himself in the Wizarding community. In the book he mentioned several Ministry employees who during Voldemort's reign last year supported him in secret and helped his cause. Among them were Barnabas Higgs and Brutus Flint, who had witheld information about Azkaban escapees and knowingly placed innocent Muggleborns in the arrest simply for not being Pureblood. They were also the fathers of Draco's old Hogwarts friends.

Theodore Nott had been sent to Azkaban for a year after finally coming out of hiding on Blaise's encouragement, and Pansy's parents moved to France.

It was dawning on Draco that he now had no purpose in life. Hogwarts was over and so was the war. So what was he going to do now? With his father shipped off to Azkaban and his mother depressed as always...

He decided that first of all he would take his Apparition licence, after all he had been Apparating illegaly for ages now. He only had to book a slot at the Ministry to prove he could do it. Then what?

He still had money and some influence, so he decided the second thing on his to-do list would be to get a place to live on his own. A flat perhaps. He was just unsure of how to break the news to Narcissa, whom he was sure would cry, protest and beg him to stay in the manor. He wondered if she'd allow him to take out money from their Gringotts vault. Well, he was of age. Some of it was rightfully his.

He wondered what Pansy would think of him if he got a flat of his own and a job. Would it be attractive to her that he was being adult, mature? It was something he never though he would do - he'd never imagined himself getting a job, and he'd always thought he'd stay in the manor for a long time or possibly forever. He'd never really thought about the fact that he'd have to move away and get a place of his own. He'd never thought of what he would do after finishing school. Probably because he never thought he'd survive the war. Now the possibilities were endless. Right, where to start...? He had never pictured his life after Hogwarts because he had always assumed he would be trapped in the Dark Lord's service. The world now seemed so large - the possibilities were endless. It slightly frightened him.

Come late October, he finally approached his mother about his inheritance. She was in the upstairs parlour, reading in an armchair.

"Mother?" he began tentatively.

"Yes, Draco?"

"I have been thinking as of late," he said, stepping into the room and drawing closer to her. "Now that I'm of age and have taken my NEWTs, that it might be time for me to move out. Find a place of my own."

He almost cringed saying it, but Narcissa merely put her book down and raised her eyebrows.

"I suppose that is the next natural step for you," she said calmly. It was not the reaction he had expected from her.

Relieved, he sat down in the armchair next to her and she slowly followed him with her gaze.

"I'm glad you say so. So then it's only really the matter of... payment."

"Ah," Narcissa said, and gave a small nod. "Well, as I'm sure you know, the last few months have been a costly ordeal. But of course you are entitled to some of your inheritance now that you have come of age."

"Some?"

"Well, whatever we have left is meant to sustain us until your father is back with us."

This hit him with a pang of guilt.

"But," she went on. "I will speak to Mr Felstead and see what we can do for now."

"I'm not looking to buy a house," he said quickly. "Just a small flat. Maybe in Hogsmeade, or in London."

"Well I certainly won't have you living in Muggle London," Narcissa said haughtily.

"Diagon Alley then," he said.

"Fine. And do you know how much a property like that is in Diagon Alley?"

She spoke with interest, not with the intent to lecture. He hesiated. "I have a vague idea."

"Good," she said. "I will take you down to Gringotts myself. This weekend."

Draco smiled widely and grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Thank you, mother."

She smiled sadly at him and stroked his hair. "Are you sure you want to be all alone, so soon?"

"I'll have Pansy there," he said quickly.

"Of course," she said.

"And I'll come home every Sunday."

Narcissa nodded. "So it shall be." She paused, the sad smile still there. "You're growing up so quickly."

"Not quicker than anyone else," he grinned.

"I suppose so," she said and gave another nod and he knew he was dismissed.


"Need a CREDIT for a NEW BROOM? Afraid to open your owl-post? BEEN REFUSED A LOAN FROM GRINGOTTS TO BUY A PROPERTY? Send us an OWL, before it is too late. GalloLoanS (financial bafflers) - NO. 343, Diagon Alley South."

The moving, colourful ad was almost shouting at him as he walked passed in Diagon Alley.

He walked past the Wizarding travel agents, clockmakers, barbers, blacksmiths, pubs, book shops, Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions shop, and turned left onto a side street. He'd never gone this far, further even than when they'd gone to Mr Felstead's office or the restaurant.

He walked past the Wizarding currency exchanger, and then the establishments stopped. There were flats now inside the buildings, one had a gigantic glittering tortoise just inside the window. He knew he had reached the other end of Diagon Alley now.

And there it was, the estate agency. He stepped inside, hoping this was the start of something new. Something good.


The trees grew bare, the few leaves that remained were vividly orange, as autumn progressed.

As Pansy spent more time at university and with new friends, and Draco spent more and more time alone, she had the feeling they were growing apart. She had a whole new life and what did he have? He was still depressed and she found it difficult to spend time with him because of it.

"What you been up to today?" she asked him one evening after she'd spent the whole day at university.

"Visited Crabbe's grave with Goyle," he said shortly. He wasn't paying her any attention. She sighed.

"He got a job at a Broomstick factory."

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, that's... good for him."

It was almost awkward.

They kept getting into arguments about the fact that her values hadn't changed while his had. They both loathed the Dark Lord, but she still saw Muggleborns as lower valued. He didn't anymore.

She knew what their problem was. Draco always got what he wanted, but so did Pansy. How was that going to work in the long run?

"You're just going to have to compromise," said Draco tiredly.

"I never do anything I don't want to do," said Pansy nonchalantly.

"I've had to do a lot of things I didn't want to do," he said quietly. She knew he meant the Dark Lord. She almost rolled her eyes. He was so boring and gloomy lately.

She suddenly saw him as small. She'd always seen him like a prize on a piedestal or a king on a high seat. Now she saw he was just a little boy. Not divine or godlike. Not above anyone else, not above her.


"Queenie started working at a pub," said Daphne disdainfully, one Saturday in mid November as she and Pansy were catching up over a coffee at Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade.

"No way!" Pansy laughed, equally as disdainfully. "That's not a job for a Pureblood! What is she doing?"

"I don't know," giggled Daphne. "I think she just wants to make money."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "She doesn't have to work for her money any more than you or me."

"I know," said Daphne, pleased. "Anyway how's uni?"

"It's great! We're actually brewing Beautifying Potions, can you believe that?"

"That's amazing! Can you make me some?"

"I'm not sure we're allowed to take them home," Pansy laughed. "How's your education anyway?"

Daphne had started studying Wizarding Art at another college for further wizarding education after Hogwarts. "Oh, I love it."

An hour later they had finished their coffees and were walking down Hogsmeade high street.

"Did you hear about Blaise and Tracey?" said Daphne gloomily.

Pansy had indeed heard that the two were spending more time together. "I can't believe it, after he kissed you."

"Yeah," said Daphne shiftely. Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Kissed. He's a game player," muttered Daphne.

"Anyway," said Pansy quickly and grabbed onto her best friend's arm. "He's too vain for you anyway."

Daphne laughed bitterly and it sounded like a sob at the same time. "You're one to talk. You're boyfriend's the vainest."


Tracey started her internship at the Ministry on the Monday after Halloween. She wore the best robes she could afford on her first day.

"Sonorus. Good morning everyone," said Elfrida Duke, the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A Death Eater by the name of Yaxley had been the previous head, but had subsequently been sent to Azkaban. Tracey was excited that the successor was a woman, even though she wouldn't be directly reporting to her.

They were on level two of the Ministry of Magic, in the communal area for the department, where Monday mornings was regular meeting hour. The whole department was squished into the large room and most people were ready to take notes. Mrs Duke was standing by a podium with both hands gipping its sides. She was a middle aged woman with a firm and confident aura.

"I hope you've all had a lovely weekend. I'll try to make this as brief as possible as we all have work to do," she said, gazing around the room. Tracey instantly felt included. "As we all know, suspected Death Eater's activity is still being monitored closely. Our goal is to send everyone guilty to Azkaban before the summer. Obviously tracking them down and holding trials is taking time. That is our top priority, but that mostly concerns our Hit Wizard and Law Enforcement Patrol departments. As you know, the Dementors have been temporarily removed from Azkaban using the Patronus Charm."

This had been all over the newspapers - every Auror had been forced to learn to produce a Patrous so their collective strength could keep the Dementors away.

"But the Dementors are relentless. Our Charms need to be recast continously and we are currently using up way too much man power at Azkaban. But as we came to agreement of - isolation leads to suicide, and that is what we want to prevent. We are to rehabilitate, not kill. Currently prisoners are allowed into the Azkaban courtyard an hour a day to socialise. They are given clean clothes and proper meals."

There was enthusiastic applause after this statement.

"The war on the Dementors," Mrs Duke went on,"will be the new Minister's greatest challenge. As they won't stop trying to take Azkaban back, there will be no other option than to stop them breeding and exterminate them."

"Our temporary Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was chosen by the Wizengamot, is about to step down. The election for a new official Minsiter will take place beginning of December, which only gives us a month to prepare."

"Parties," Mrs Duke went on, her eyes lingering on the different groups in the room. "You need to start broadcasting your views straight away so that people can get a fair representation from you from the newspapers. As of now people in our Wizarding community have no idea what to vote. The polls are changing from day to day. The information out there is contradictive and straight up confusing. Get your manifestos together in the next few days and then we will hold press conferences with the Daily Prophet and other publications to get the word out there."

Tracey's direct boss, Augustus Puff, was taking frivolous notes, nodding along. He pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Our biggest political issues as of now are," Mrs Duke paused and then went on, "Capturing the rest of the Death Eaters; funding of the Ministry and rebuilding Hogwarts; changing laws that discriminate Muggleborns; and educating more Healers."

"I would also like to welcome our new interns, as we have employed over fifty in the whole department. Now I invite you to go back to your various divisions and plan your week further. Thank you for your time."

There was a big applause, Tracey quickly put her quill down and clapped too. People were getting up and leaving the room. Tracey hastily followed her boss Augustus Puff and the rest, and went down the busy corridor back to their office.

They sat down in one of the larger rooms, and an older ginger witch with crooked glasses, brought a tray of tea mugs and biscuits. There was still about thirty people in here, and Tracey glanced around at what would be her colleagues.

Augustus Puff stood up to face them all. "You all heard the lady. We need to get our manifesto together in the next few days. I believe in you all and we can do this. We also have the help of our new interns." He smiled and indicated towards Tracey, and a few others.

Tracey smiled nervously.

"If we win we could actually change something for once. We are the liberals and we will end Pureblood supremacy and ensure equal rights for everyone. So very few Ministers and heads of departments have been Muggleborn or women. This needs to change. We also need to increase taxes to help fund the rebuilding of Hogwarts and other institutions that have been damaged in the war. I would like our marketing team to start working on slogans straight away."

A group of five people nodded and got up. They left the room, talking amongst themselves of ideas.

"There are a few issues we need to get on the same page about. Whether Felix Felicis should be a classified as a drug. There have been many reports of failed home brews of the potion. In these dark times people turn to anything for a pick me up and when they can't afford the ludicrous prices they try to make their own with terrible consequences. There have been some research to indicate it may be addictive or at least have some addictive properties."

"I say we take a vote," said a petite woman at the front. "Everyone in favor of The Liberal Wizarding Party being for banning the potion, raise their hand."

A majority of hands went up into the air. Tracey hesitantly raised hers as well. She wasn't very informed on the matter but what Augustus had just said made some very good points.

"That settles it. That will be in our manifesto. What else..." said Augustus Puff, pondering this.

"Whether Apparition lessons at Hogwarts should be funded by the Ministry, or ones own pocket?" someone else said.

"I think at a time like this, when the Ministry and Hogwarts is struggling as it is," the small woman at the front said, "It just doesn't make any sense to use tax funds for Apparition lessons. If the people want to avoid a bigger increase in tax then we need to redistribute how we use the funds. It can, and needs to, be used for more pressing and urgent matters for the time being."

"Hear, hear," several people said.

"Good," said Augustus. "Right, everyone, back to work. We've got a lot of writing to do in the next couple of days. Interns, if you could stay here with me please. I will place you all in different areas each week so you can learn about every part of the organisation."


Tracey was absolutely exhausted when she arrived in her lounge, in their house in Brighton that evening. It had been a long first day and her brain was spinning from all the new information. But she quickly showered and got ready, because she had agreed to meet Blaise for a drink that evening in Diagon Alley. He wanted to explain. She sighed as she stepped into the fireplace and exclaimed "The Leaky Cauldron!"

When she stepped out of the fireplace at the other end, into the dimly lit and unoccupied pub, she could see the bartender reading a newspaper, a few local drunks, and Blaise Zabini, by a small corner table, with two glasses of wine.

A jolt went through her stomach at the sight of him. She took a deep breath to force herself to stay in control.

She slid into the seat opposite him and he looked up shocked.

"Hey," he said, more softly than usual.

"Hi," she said shortly.

"I got you a drink."

She almost rolled her eyes at how accomodating he was being. She knew it was purely out of guilt.

"Thanks." She took a sip nonetheless, to calm her nerves. "But that's not going to make up for the fact that you kissed Daphne."

Blaise looked away quickly, avoiding her gaze. "Right." He took a sip of his drink too, and leaned back. Defensive. "I knew you were going to say that, but what you have to realise is we're not... together."

Flustered in anger, Tracey spat out "I never said we were."

"There's something else," Blaise said, touching a ring on his hand before taking another sip. Tracey's heart began beating fast. "I know that you'll hear this soon anyway, and I wanted to tell you before that happened."

Countless theories were wirling around Tracey's brain.

"That night," he went on, almost coldly. "We slept together."

She almost thought she hadn't heard him correctly. Surely not, this could not be true. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. She could hear her blood rush in her ears and she couldn't see anything but her own hands in front of her. She was gaping at him, her heart had dropped into her stomach.

"Y-you... What?"

Blaise shrugged. He looked so shameful she had to believe him. "It just happened."

She realised how dry her motuh was. "You slept... with Daphne."

"It just happened," he repeated, but he turned to look at her now. She felt as though she was looking into the eyes of a completely different person. How could he do that to her?

"Tracey..." She noticed he used her first name, meaning he was serious. He usually teased her with her last name.

"Why would you do that?" she said, struggling to keep her voice panicked. "You know she's in love with you. Always has been," She couldn't help the harshness in her tone.

"I don't think she is anymore."

"Oh please," snorted Tracey, "Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you."

Blaise's face was hard to read. They stared at each other for a while longer. She realised she couldn't say anything of everything she wanted to say, really. Because he wasn't hers.

"I'm sorry Davis."

"It's her you should say that to," said Tracey, trying to convince herself of this.

"No, it's not." His voice was quiet and careful, almost tender. It made her uncharacteristically emotional. She could feel a lump building up in her throat. But she would not cry in front of him, no way.

"Yes it is! We're just friends. But she's in love with you," Tracey said, still trying to fool herself the reason she was upset was for Daphne's sake.

Blaise ignored what she was saying. She knew he knew what they were really talking about.

"I don't care about her," he said uncharacteristically softly, looking intently at her. That hurt even more.

"That's disgusting."

"I wasn't thinking."

"Well, that's a first, isn't it." She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"I only did it because getting closer to you terrified me."

She took another shaky breath. "That's not good enough." And without another word she got up from the table and left him there with the two half empty glasses of wine.


The next few weeks consisted of Tracey running around the Ministry on various jobs, assisting her superiors in exchange for learning and developing. They had her pop down to the Department of Defence to collect files before a big meeting, they had her typing and taking notes, they had her hanging posters around Diagon Alley that brought attention to the different Wizarding ministerial parties.

The biggest debates in society were whether Hogwarts should be funded by the Ministry. A lot of people didn't think so anymore. They wanted new regulations about who the Ministry could employ for Hogwarts, especially after the fiasco of Umbridge as well as the Carrows last year.

The war had shone a light on issues that needed to be addressed. They had always been there and had now resurfaced. The injustice of how Muggleborns had always been treated compared to Purebloods was undeniable now that such hate crimes had been put on them during Voldemort's reign. Some laws had to change to give them more rights.

Tracey read a case about a twenty year old Pureblood man who had murdered his Muggleborn sister-in-law because she "defiled the family" by not having pure blood - he was sent to Azkaban for ten years, whereas a Muggleborn man at the same time was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss when he killed a fellow wizard in a drunken accident. Historically, there were hundreds of cases like these. It didn't make any sense.

The problem was that the Wizengamot had to approve any changes of the laws and they rarely agreed on anything so nothing ever happened. And with each Minister of Magic only getting five years in office, it wasn't ever enough time to make any changes.

The injustice wasn't only between Purebloods and Muggleborns but also between witches and wizards, where witches largely made smaller salaries and were rarely put in positions of power.

The Liberal Wizarding Party also wanted rights for warlocks, centaurs, werewolves and House-Elves to a certain extent.

"Next thing they'll be petioning for trolls' rights to set up camp in Muggle London!" said the conservative opposition loudly in the press conferences.

The Conservative Wizarding Party wanted to focus on completely different issues, like stopping illegal trading and lowering taxes.

Then there was the radicals, who were mental in Tracey's opinion. They wanted a mandatory examination for everyone to be a part of the Wizarding world. That way they could weed out the Muggleborns or Squibs or anyone else they didn't think was the "right fit". They also wanted all Ministry department to shut down and for every member of the Wizarding world to vote for every single decision.

The Liberal Wizarding Party was of the belief that this would be too much bureaucracy and that the society needed quick decisions which is why they wanted to vote for certain representatives to make decisions.

Then they had to take into account their international relations. Wizarding Britain suddenly wasn't very trusted by nearby countries after it had let itself be overtaken by Voldemort. The relationship with the Irish Ministry was frostier than ever, and Wizarding Ireland wanted to withdraw from sending their children to Hogwarts. They wanted a school of their own. Tracey almost thought they could all benefit from a couple more Wizarding schools in the UK - it didn't make sense for everyone to go to the same one after all.

They also needed more universities especially to train Healers, as there was a huge lack of them. It wasn't an attractive thing to study though, as the pay wasn't good enough for a fully qualified Healer.

Tracey sighed as he stepped out of the fireplace back home in Brighton. It had been an exhausting few weeks.


Draco decided to buy a two bedroom flat above the Minister's Arms, where incidentally Queenie Wilkes worked. The property was drafty and you could hear the bustling street down below of merchants and shoppers, but it had hardwood floors, a large fireplace and a lovely view of the surrounding rooftops.

By late november he had moved in. Once again he felt a sense of restlessness. What now?

The last few months, he had been thinking he wanted to tell his side of the story. Now that Pansy was off at university doing her own thing he felt he needed to take control of his own life too.

Even though he had been cleared of all charges, people still generally had a very negative image of him. He was still being harassed by journalists and whenever he stepped out in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade he was met with sideway glares and sour looks. Finally he decided to speak out by contacting the only reporter he had ever known.

"So tell me, Draco," said Rita Skeeter two weeks later, stirring her drink at the Three Broomsticks, "What happened when you came home for summer holidays after your fifth year?"

Draco took a deep breath, his brain raking of where to begin. His father's arrest, meeting the Dark Lord for the first time, taking the Mark, finding the Vanishing Cabinet, polyjuicing Crabbe and Goyle, dumping Pansy, fighting Nott, killing Dumbledore, hiding in his own home, defying the Carrows in secret, hoping for the other side to win...

He needed to get it all out.