A/N:

I choo - Don't fall out of your seat. It'll hurt your butt.

Siriusforever, and Cute butt psyco, and Isabella Grace, and Liz, and - Thanks!

Midwest Swede - Because this story isn't about Harry teaching, it is only a subplot, one of many. The classes I show, I show for a purpose. Oops, did I give too much away?

The Counter - Pucker up and kiss my sweet white ass. If you don't like romances then read something else.

Ears91 - closer than you will ever know ... um ... well you'll know in this chapter.

Read On!

Chapter 24

Harry stepped out into what he recognized as the vast atrium to the visitors entrance of the Ministry of Magic. He surveyed the scene where, what came to be know as, the 'Battle for the Prophesy' took place. He had always thought of it as the time that Sirius had died.

He fingered the winter coat with a small bit of melancholy and strode toward the visitor's desk. The attendant eyed him and saw his lack of a visitor's badge. Harry remembered that normally people would have to enter through the phone box outside where they were issued a name badge.

"Name and purpose of visit, please."

"Harry Potter and I don't know."

The attendant who apparently didn't have a sense of humor waited, thumping the desk with his thumb.

"Look, I got a letter from Professor Dumbledore wanting me here at 9:00. "

The attendant checked a parchment board and his eyes widened. He quickly tapped a small box on his desk and out popped a badge that he handed to Harry.

Harry Potter

Ministry Election

His eyebrow cocked with confusion. "He Didn't!" he thought, quite alarmed.

Harry pinned the badge to his robes.

"Your wand sir." He had forgotten about the wand inspection.

The attendant dropped the wand into the same brass instrument as before and eventually it spit out a piece of parchment.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use for five years. That correct?"

"Yes."

He gave Harry his wand back and stabbed the piece of parchment on a small brass spike.

"Proceed to the second floor, Wizengamot Administration Services. Take the lift to ..."

Harry stopped him from continuing, "I know where it is. I was almost killed here a number of times."

The attendant looked a little shook up.

He went down the hall and punched a button. The familiar clacking and banging of the lift brought back horrible memories of that night only five months previous when he raced to kill Bellatrix Lestrange for the murder of his godfather. Voldemort had offered her in trade for the sharing of power, not too long ago. Harry didn't think the offer good enough to lose his soul in return.

The lift dinged, announcing his arrival at the second floor, and Harry stepped off into chaos. The floor was stuffed full of witches and wizards yelling at each other, some in anger, while others were yelling just to be heard.

He tried to catch snippets of various conversations.

"He's bloody insane I tell ya!"

"I think it makes perfect sense."

"And you're a stupid git!"

"It's a time of War!"

"... too aggressive if you ask me."

"Excuse me!"

The last was from Harry.

The portly man that was blocking the way from the lift didn't seem to notice the doors had opened.

"Oh, so sorry, pardon ..." his eyes stopped at Harry's scar and he snapped his mouth shut.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore!" Harry yelled.

The portly man could not hear him and cupped a palm behind his ear, "What?"

"Dumbledore!"

He saw that he wasn't getting his request across so he pulled out his wand and tapped his throat, "Sonorus."

"WOULD ALL OF YOU PLEASE SHUT UP FOR A MOMENT."

He tapped his throat once more and motioned the counter-charm. The entire floor quieted down at an obviously louder voice than theirs.

"I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore."

He tried to stand on his toes to look over the crowd when he saw a shower of sparks in the back. "Over here, Harry. Good of you to come."

Murmurings of his name spread across the floor and a pathway was made for him leading to the professor. Some of the faces he passed were complimentary and others were downright snobbish, but most were indifferent.

"Oh, do get out of the way! Let the young man through, or I'll jinx the lot of you."

Harry recognized that voice right away as Nymphadora Tonks. The crowd spread quicker to allow Harry and his Firebolt through.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

He blinked and tried not to stare at the mixture of yellow and fluorescent green hair that Tonks was wearing this morning. She looked at him and followed his eyes.

"It's too much, isn't it," she fumed, "Shaklebolt said it was the right shade of green, the prat."

"It looks fine, Tonks really. Kingsley was right."

A voice came from the back, "Blimey! He's the consummate

politician!"

The room exploded in uproarious laughter, but it didn't last long slipping into arguments as before. Tonks grabbed his hand and pushed her way through the crowd to Dumbledore in the back.

He motioned to the back wall and opened a door when he got there. Once they were all inside Tonks pointed her wand at the door, "Imperturbo!"

The sound of many voices were immediately cut off.

"Ah, much better. Thank you, Nymphadora."

"Professor, you know you're the only one I let get away with calling me that."

He smiled, "I promise not to abuse the privilege."

"Professor ..." Harry interrupted.

"A moment." He gestured to the round conference table set up in the middle of the room, "Please everyone, sit."

Harry leaned his broom up against the wall and took a seat next to Tonks.

"I have a few things to explain to you before I ask a favor."

Harry almost dropped his jaw. He wasn't going to be told to do something? Someone was actually going to explain something before a disaster happened? His guard was up.

"Harry, I'm sure you have noticed my absence over the past few weeks since the death of Minister Fudge."

He nodded.

"I have -- for the most part -- been here acting in my role as Chief Warlock. We have to elect a new minister and I have been lobbying for a certain Auror to take the position. He has reluctantly accepted, however it is the entire Ministry that I have to convince and I must admit I have been doing a poor job of it as it seems."

Harry looked concerned for Dumbledore, "Why the entire ministry?"

"Because it is they that have to vote the new minister in and in this instance Galleons speak louder than words."

"Someone's buying the election?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Try not to be so shocked, Harry. Unfortunately this is the way things are done. There are 732 voting members in the ministry. I have 361 voting for my candidate; we need another six to win the election.

"Professor," Harry paused very reluctantly. "I ... I'm ... not ..."

Tonks almost fell out of her chair laughing. He turned and looked at her with resentment.

"No Harry, you are not my candidate." Said the professor with much mirth. "You are a few years under the minimum age limit."

He took another look at Tonks who was holding her belly. "Oh, shut up."

She laughed on, "Really, Harry. You must have did awful on your History of Magic O.W.L.'s."

"Actually," He said with a very serious face. "That's when I got the vision of Sirius being tortured by Voldemort."

That sobered her up. She held her hand over her mouth, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

He knew it wouldn't make a difference if he got the vision or not. History of Magic was Harry's worst subject and he knew it.

Dumbledore acted as if nothing was said. "The reason I asked you here was to sway the last six voters."

"Pardon?"

"I am not sure if you have noticed over the last five and a half years, but I am rather soft spoken and I try to use logic in my arguments more than emotion."

Harry shrugged.

"What I think we need in this argument is a little bit of righteous anger."

He looked from side to side, "Shouldn't -- I mean wouldn't an adult's word carry more weight than mine?"

The headmaster nodded, "Normally I would agree with you. However in this instance I think someone that has had more dealings with Voldemort would be better suited to explain the position.

"We need immediate action Harry. The full force of the Ministry of Magic has to be brought to bear down on Voldemort. If it is not, then in a years time we will be in a full scale war the likes of which hasn't been seen since the last Goblin war."

By this time Harry was very nervous and his hands started shaking slightly. "What am I supposed to do? "

Dumbledore smiled, "Just be yourself, Harry"

Harry wasn't so convinced. "I haven't had any time to prepare .. I ..."

"Good," said Dumbledore. "We don't need another speech about how it is in our best interest to act now because it would be better for the Wizarding economy, or some such nonsense. I need someone who has a fresh perspective and is not swayed by whether or not they are going to have a job next week for being on the losing side."

He felt his nerves getting the better of him and he reached into his pocket for a lemon drop. Dumbledore had made his case and he leaned back for the result of his efforts.

"You just want me to go out there and talk to people, right?"

The headmaster nodded, "Everyone, actually."