"All right! All right! Everyone quiet down!"
Lord Greengrass stood in the middle of the courtroom, raising his hands to call order. Everyone present was murmuring to each other, in excitement and surprise. The reason for that was nothing less than Minister Shacklebolt sitting in the Minister's seat. He hadn't come in often at all recently. He sat in on the Death Eater trials, but mostly kept out of the way of the Wizengamot. Their bill had changed that. Then why come to the final debate of the bill? Perhaps he didn't want to oppose the man who vanquished Voldemort publicly.
"Now. The order of the day is final words and voting on the Anti-Voldemort bill, designated W363. Before we begin, are there any points of order anyone would like to raise?"
He looked questioningly at the Minister. Shacklebolt rose slowly, still carrying a certain amount of gravitas. All eyes were on him, and he was well composed. He had prepared, but for what?
"As procedure allows, I would like to use my ten minutes of time to address the Wizengamot as Minister for Magic."
Greengrass nodded. "The Minister has requested and has been granted his ten minutes of time to address the Wizengamot. I will monitor with a timing charm and any who wish to raise concern after it expires is to raise their hand—"
"That wont' be necessary, Lord Greengrass," Kingsley stated. "I won't require the full ten minutes."
"Very well, Minister," Greengrass nodded with a glance towards the box of the bill makers. "You may proceed."
For what seemed like forever, Kingsley overlooked the assembled lawmakers of the magical world. His eyes drifted to their box and he looked towards Mathilda who was there as an adviser to the bill. She was unconcerned of course, her legs crossed and her purple robes spilling over her seat, Captain's insignia on full display. It would take more than a piercing stare from a former Auror to curdle her blood.
"Lords and Ladies," he started. "Witches and wizards. For the past few months the public has looked on in confusion at what is happening in these halls. Laws that have been shaped over the course of centuries are being repealed in one grand swoop. I must admit, I am confused as well. If it were just that, it would already pull the foundations from under us. But it does even more, giving our Aurors the power to use truth serum to interrogate suspects. Dark magic, which has been outlawed since this country has had the sense to do so will be free to use. I don't need to tell any of you what a corrupting influence it can be.
"What truly baffles me, is that to my knowledge this bill has passed to the final vote without extensive debate in the Wizengamot, that not one among you has taken opposition to it. Is this truly what you want? What the people want? Or is it the wish of a select few? I have to wonder how the steady pace of our institutions has come barrelling down the tracks so suddenly."
Kingsley braced himself on the bench and leaned forward, speaking more softly but just as clearly. "The late Albus Dumbledore once told me that discourse is the heart of policy. I cannot endorse this without it being given much more consideration. As you vote today, I urge you to think of the repercussions this bill will have. On your lives, on your children's lives. I urge you to slow down and not jump into things without thinking it over once more.
"I plead to your conscience," he said, looking directly at Harry, "to not strike the Unforgivable Act from the books of law. This law and many others are there to do one thing: to prevent suffering. Compassion, is not outdated, ladies and gentlemen. It is enduring, and what this new government has tried to pursue. To listen to our better angels."
"Thank you," he said, bowing to the rest of them. "By Law and Magic, this has been my appeal to you."
"Thank you, Minister, for this heartfelt appeal," Greengrass said flatly.
Harry raised his hand.
"Yes, Lord Potter?"
"I would like to make use of my two minutes to rebut Minister Shacklebolt."
"Very well," Greengrass said. "I will time your rebuttal. As you please, Lord Potter."
Hermione looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Yes, he was going off script. He looked over the Wizengamot amphitheatre. The traditional block was looking on in interest at him. In the large rows of the progressive block, Yaxley and Flint nervously waited, and in the neutral ranks, Carrow and Augusta Longbottom looked proudly anticipating a victory for once. Kingsley was the only one present besides Harry and his group who felt so strongly about the bill.
Poor Augusta Longbottom really had fully deluded herself. Perhaps she had managed to reconcile the decriminalisation of the Cruciatus and the crippling of her son only the way a politician could. Or perhaps she really was that cold-hearted. It didn't really matter, they didn't need them any more. The progressive block under Greengrass was enough with Rowle to gain a majority for anything they wished.
So he spoke, because he could contradict the Minister directly. "I think this assembly has spent long enough debating what is right and wrong. I was there for a good part of it during the trials. Now I have five years as an Auror behind me during which I have extensively coordinated with the DMLE and enjoyed the expertise of others much more familiar with the laws of this community.
"What we need is common sense laws that make us safer and make us more prosperous. This bill does that. It gives the people and the Auror Department the tools to make that a reality. A more compassionate and safe world is the result, not the contents of our laws. Less money spent on the bureaucracy to maintain those laws. More opportunities for those of us in less fortunate circumstances. Past so called 'compassion' let Barnton happen.
"I am glad you stand behind this bill, and do not oppose it in fear of change. But even those that fear it will in time benefit from it. Thank you, Minister, for coming to observe what happens in government. And thank you, Lord Greengrass, for presiding."
He sat back down.
"Not bad," Mathilda said.
"Dumbledore did like to give speeches. Maybe I did learn something from him."
"Sounded more like a jab at Kingsley than a speech," Hermione whispered.
There were procedures with voting in a new law. Every item was to be read out consecutively, making it a bit farcical. By the end of it, Greengrass' voice was hoarse.
"Now," he said, "we will proceed with the vote. In the event of a two-thirds majority, the bill will pass. In the event of a confidence vote of forty-five or less, the bill will fail. All other results will postpone to a next session. You are free to slot your wands to vote… now."
All assembled took out their wand. In the benches before them were three slots. One to tally a vote for, one to tally a vote against, and one that did nothing at all. It was arranged so the vote was truly anonymous. But Greengrass had done work. Judging by the fifty or so officials with their eyes on him, they knew which way to vote. If they didn't, Greengrass now knew with Burke's absence that things wouldn't go well for him.
Minutes later, Greengrass stepped aside from the dais, and flicked his wand. A great smooth stone wall emerged from the ground. In great silver letters stood the words: 'AYE' and 'NAY', and beneath it 'ABSTAINED'. Without further interference, silver flowed from the sides to form numbers.
AYE: Seventy-Eight
NAY: Five
ABSTAINED: Six
Then the silver formed some words in the blank space below.
ABSENT: Lord Burke. Cause: expiration.
"The vote passes!" Greengrass shouted. "The Anti-Voldemort Bill, designation W363 has passed into law. Congratulations, Lord Potter, Ms. Granger, Lady Longbottom and Lord Carrow. Session is closed until further notice."
They were adequately congratulated by practically everyone who wasn't being actively blackmailed. Say what you want about politicians, but they knew how to chase a win. Likely this success made them only second to Greengrass in political capital, and he was doing their bidding. There were many words to curry favour. He could see the more hapless members of the Wizengamot try and work this into a springboard for themselves.
They went to the Wizengamot's lounge to have some drinks and talk. It wasn't used often, only for big occasions, and it showed. But it gave everyone assembled some time to enjoy the fruits of their labour without the prying eyes of the press. He was taking a moment to replenish his glass of wine when he felt slender fingers take a rough hold of his arm. He had to concentrate on his glass not to spill anything while he was being dragged to a more private corner.
He had expected it. He had half expected her to make a scene right there in the Wizengamot. Grimly, he thought how the women around Draco's life had been working very hard to be a pain in his side. She looked at him with a kind of unhinged anger, but then she couldn't very well publicly show her ire. Draco was a guest of Lord Greengrass, he wouldn't fare so well unconscious on the streets.
"I know tensions can run high at these times," he said, "but I am already seeing someone, Mrs. Malfoy."
She ignored his perfectly good jive. "My son is in a coma because of you!"
"I gathered from the fact you weren't present that he didn't tell you, but then that was his choice."
"His choice?" she hissed. "What choice did he have? You pushed him into this, don't take me for a fool!"
He was indifferent to the yelling, and her anger had no teeth. She was hanging onto what she had, meagre as it was. Greengrass' hospitality and Draco's safety, she wouldn't jeopardise that. Narcissa Malfoy was so easy to understand, even in this moment. He'd rather have her around than some unknown. People were watching him, Dietrich had said, and she was not seeing a thing. So he would be sensible. "I'm sorry, but really, he will be fine. Creevey might be in training but he's brilliant at what he does. Can you let go of my arm now?"
She did let go of his arm. He was slowly running out of the goodwill his past self had built, but for now, it remained. "It already worked," he reassured. "It's a good thing he's doing, and he's doing it for someone he cares for. I know it can't be easy to see him like that, but I was in the same situation and all it took from me is a few months of my life."
In an unexpected turn, tears appeared in Narcissa's eyes. "I'm sorry," she sniffed. "He's my only son. One day, if you're lucky, you'll find out just what that means. I'll have to hope you are right and he is fine. Congratulations on your bill passing, Lord Potter."
Harry shuddered as he watched her walk away and quickly returned to Hermione, someone he didn't have to spout such drivel to.
#
The party was much better among friends. They met up with Alfred and Ginny later and Mathilda took them to one of her old-old haunts, from before the war. It was magical, but situated in the middle of a muggle town, and they had all kinds of beer on tap and magical liquors.
"Hey Patty," Mathilda shouted. "Think we could get the place to ourselves tonight? Like old times?"
Patty, a man with balding black hair wearing a black apron, lifted his hand in recognition. "I think there might be 'nuff clean glasses around for a dozen or so."
"Just us five," she motioned to the rest of them.
"Gonna leave you the key then an' head home. 'Ave a good one, something from the Ministry to celebrate, is it?"
"Something like that," she replied.
"Have a good night, Patty," Harry said.
He immediately walked over to the bar and took out five large glass mugs. "Come on, everyone, line up."
"You're doing service?" Mathilda asked amusedly.
"Yeah, why not," he answered, filling up the first pint.
Mathilda leaned against the bar and the rest followed her.
"One pint!" Harry said, sliding the mug the length of the counter. Mathilda caught it deftly in one hand.
"Two pint!"
The second one glided over. When no one made a move, Ginny stepped in and caught the already falling mug.
"Three pint!"
Alfred cursed as the third one sloshed in his hand.
"Four!" he said with a smirk.
Hermione stumbled forward and, unfortunately although well tried, she grabbed the base of the glass too strongly and it popped out of her hands, drenching her clothes in cold beer.
She gasped. "God damn you, Harry!"
The intensity of her cry had the others hanging on to see what would happen. Harry, a deathly serious look on his face, walked towards her and met her icy stare. He leaned over to her ear and whispered: "Told you I'd get you wet in public."
"You truly are the most incorrigible, tactless, aggravating idiot that ever walked this earth!" Her scowl as bad as it was, quickly turned into a smile and she leaned into his ear as well. "You're lucky you gave me such a pretty looking ring."
"As good a time as any, d'you think?" he whispered back.
She sighed heavily and nodded. They turned towards the others, and Harry, giving her a last blinding smile, turned to speak. "It's going to come out anyway, with us visiting Hogwarts next week, so… We're engaged." Harry tapped his wand on Hermione's finger and his next, revealing two golden bands of mixed caramel and emerald.
"You bastard, you didn't even tell me!" Mathilda squealed.
"Hey, you're the first to know."
"Well, congratulations!" Alfred said.
"Congratulations," Ginny said, raising her mug.
Harry pressed a second, non-spilled beer into Hermione's hand and smiled, clinking his to hers. She looked happy, even smelling like hops. He wouldn't have it any other way. Mathilda pulled them into a big hug and a cleaning and drying charm later, they were sat at a table not too far from the bar happily chatting.
"So what the hell did the Missus Malfoy want?" Mathilda asked.
"Sexual favours of course—Ow! Fine I'll cool it with the bloody jokes. She was just angry about baby Malfoy."
"What did you tell her?" Hermione asked.
"I don't even remember, but I think she backed off because we came out of it."
"The curse you got hit with?" Alfred asked. "You said it changed you after."
"It did, and while I'm glad I'm here, I don't think I care to repeat that."
"Do you mind if I ask you how it was, working for the ICW?"
"I 'spose not," Harry said. "Hold on—shots?"
"Please," Ginny said.
Harry got a tray of assorted liquor shots, brown, green and golden colours in thumb-sized glasses, and sat down to tell his story, taking a brown one and downing it.
"It all started a little over a year ago, when I—we in fact—were approached by someone claiming to be from the ICW. Everything seemed in order. We got confirmation from the other wizard nations that the ICW was being reformed, more specifically its hit-wizard squad. Their representative was some girl named Carlize—"
"Carlize!" Mathilda groaned. "God, what a bitch."
"No joke. But the worst part is that she kind of looks like you," he said to Hermione.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" she said.
"He's right," Mathilda said. "Luckily, that's all the resemblance there is."
"She even sounded like you—anyway, that woman is probably the most annoying, unpleasant witch I have ever had the displeasure to meet, and I've met Bellatrix Lestrange, and you all know who Dolores Umbridge is. Yes, worse than that. Carlize has the gift of making you feel like she thinks you're nothing but a piece of dirt that is tainting her shoe."
"So why'd you go?" Ginny asked. "You never told me anything about it before."
"Well, this is all strictly confidential and should not be repeated to friends having a drink in a bar, much like I'm doing now. The reason I went is because I met Jeffrey beforehand. Really, a top bloke, great to drink with. And he was brilliant at transfiguration and countercharms. We really hit it off. Him talking about what it's like to be an American Auror—he was American—and me recounting my less harrowing stories about Hogwarts."
"You said 'we'," Alfred remarked. "Mathilda was recruited as well?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "I wanted to go along, but I'd gotten my Captain's insignia the year before and… well," she pointed to Harry. "You told me you'd be fine and I should focus on my career at home. You really are a bloody idiot sometimes."
"I already said that was a mistake! That's spilt milk under the bridge."
"So you hit it off with Jeffrey?" Ginny prompted.
"Yeah. So we were brought to ICW headquarters in Zurich. Fidelius and everything… except the ICW hit-wizard division was scrapped in 1995, so they wouldn't piss off Voldemort. The facility was bloody empty. Nobody ever told us we'd be two guys heading off the revival of the bloody ICW hit-squad. Lucky it was Jeffrey there, because just two people with Carlize would have been insufferable otherwise. We exchanged ideas on duelling, practised a bit, went through the ICW Hit-Wizard Training Manual. Two months later, we were given our first assignment."
"To hunt Oril?" Hermione asked.
"To hunt Oril Devinov. Carlize gave us the files on him. Turned out the Vampire Pentarchy in Romania had their eyes on him, at least they had their eyes on the rapidly disappearing artefacts Oril was stealing from them. So we set off to the Carpathian Mountains to meet these Vampire Lords. I'll say, living for six centuries certainly bumps up the amount of luxury that is acceptable. We ate like kings, slept in Vlad III's guest bedrooms while we pieced together Oril's targets. His castle is at least as large as Hogwarts, and almost as magical."
Harry eyed a green shot and brought it to his lips, downing it with a sigh before continuing. "One of the Lords had a personal vault in Bucharest. So that's where we set our ambush. A few days over there, careful not to attract any attention, we set up the best magical protection we could come up with and kept guard in shifts. It happened while I was on guard outside. I saw something dark and living move into the house, heard some screams—went running straight to the vault. Jeffrey, dependable as he was, was already following me to the vault. And who do we see standing there shoving a tome in his bloody pocket? Oril. He smiled at us and again I saw something dark and living move past us. Oril was nowhere to be seen. I can't be sure, but I have a strong hunch that Oril knew we were guarding that vault, and decided to make a show of it."
"How'd he get away?" Mathilda asked. "You didn't forget to charm against apparition, did you?"
"I'm hurt, that you would think that," Harry said sarcastically. "We went to look around the house, he had to have used some other way. Sure enough, near a shed two hundred feet from the house, we found the signs someone had apparated away. So we went back to Vlad's castle, to see if we couldn't find something about how he left the house. Jeffrey found it in a book on charms written in Latin. Apparently, he used some complex spell to travel incorporeally through shadows. So of course, we knew what to do.
"Obviously that didn't stop Carlize from being a cunt and berating us for not catching him. We never found out, but we were pretty sure she was slutting it up in the castle."
"You should never have told me she looked like me!" Hermione complained.
"It was hard on me too! And don't worry, I stopped associating her at all with you twenty seconds into meeting her. I used to tell Jeffrey I'd bring him to visit so he could cleanse his palate of Carlize by talking to you."
Mathilda sniggered. The rest of the inebriated group joined in.
"All right. So we convinced Vlad to set up a magical artefact auction. He had a mansion in a small port town named Braila, so that's where he set it up, and we set up our trap. That time, he came at night, and we almost—it was really damn close—missed him coming in. We both took stamina potions so we could be ready when he arrived. I saw the dark thing move again in the moonlit treeline, and we set off the trap. Lighting charms, all around and in the mansion, leaving not a single shadow in the forest. We were really proud of that one."
Harry's face soured. "That is, until we saw the look on his face. He was bloody furious, and immediately dispelled the lighting charms in his vicinity. He still couldn't move through the light, but he'd given up on that, we just didn't know it. I warned Jeffrey as soon as I saw it. His fresh shadow under him started to grow and it didn't seem to follow him. Then it detached from him and stood like a second person, except flat on the ground. He started casting spells, and so did his shadow.
"Jeffrey got out of the way just in time—the whole exchange must have taken less than ten seconds—but I got hit in the leg by a cutting curse. Jeff transfigured the trees to follow him around, but he was slippery as hell. There, in a fifty foot circle in the forest, spells flew everywhere. A tree exploded into shrapnel and would have gotten me if I didn't shield in time. I sent a tripping curse at his legs, but he almost dodged the spikes completely. He was hurt too, a piece of stone sticking out of his thigh and bleeding. Then he did… something, and he turned into shadow as well."
Harry leaned back, looking blankly ahead. "That's when Jeff lost his composure. He wanted to still play by his rules, but the rulebook had been tossed out of the window. He went for a counter on one of Oril's curses, but he misread the curse—maybe because it came from his shadow. Luckily, he got out one last blasting hex next to shadowy Oril. I just saw Jeff go down, clearly dead. So it was two against one, and I fired the best piercing curse I could manage. I thought I had him, that it was over. I was moving out of the way still, but my leg didn't follow."
He took a deep breath. "That's when I got hit with the curse. I felt my life drain from me so quickly. The last thing I saw was the shadows retreat and Oril's twitching body fall to the floor. I thought I was done for, but…" He smiled warmly at Hermione. "Apparently it wasn't meant to be. The most surprising thing about all of it, is that Carlize didn't leave me there to die—or maybe Vlad's cousin got me home, I have no idea. I haven't seen her since, I just know Jeff got his funeral back home and that's that. And here I am."
"That's a hell of a drinking story," Alfred said.
"Ah!" Harry barked. "You'll have a few of your own to tell, you already have a few good ones."
Harry felt giddy in company. In the darkened antiquated bar, shadows seemed to light up with a playfulness of their own. Every worry he had, melted into laughter and cheer. Yes, the vote had gone their way, but more importantly, he could share that with those around him right now. It might not be love, or it might not be heart-wrenching friendship, but it was company and it was good company. Company he could trust. A 'dysfunctional family', Ginny's words repeated to him by Hermione.
It was without great worry that he went over to Ginny, who was perusing the bar for something to drink. He stepped up to her and grabbed something pink hidden behind two other bottles from under the counter. "Looking for this?" he said, holding up a bottle of dry amaranth.
She turned and saw the bottle in his hand, and swiped it. "Yup." She looked at it for a moment, something she badly wanted to get out on her lips.
"You're all right?" he asked. "I mean with the announcement earlier."
She shrugged and shook her head at the same time. "Getting there. It's… all these little things. Our marriage is over, but you still remember my favourite drink is dry amaranth. I used to think what the future would be like for us. I didn't think anything was going to change. Now… I still find myself getting into that daydream, out of habit. But I've got no idea what the future will bring."
"Do you think you'll find your answers?" he asked. "In Azkaban?"
"Maybe," she shrugged again. "I'm sure I'll find something."
#
It was well past the time when decent folk would go to sleep when they got home. They both stumbled their way into the bedroom and clumsily helped each other out of their clothes, dropping on the bed with a paired sigh. He turned her head towards him and kissed her slowly, both having drunk too much for much of anything else to be enjoyable.
"Hey," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Guess what?"
"I dunno."
"Mathilda agreed to be a bridesmaid at our wedding."
Harry laughed. "No way."
"Yes way."
"Well, that's lovely," Harry said, kissing her more.
"You know what else?"
"What?"
"I think everything's going to be just fine now."
"You know what?" he answered. "I think so too."
#
AN: The name 'Carlize' is pronounced Car-Leez. I don't usually give out phonetics, but it bothered me that text-to-speech was butchering it. Thanks for reading.
