The Eighth Year Universe

Love Wins

I Need to Find Redemption


The chapter title is from the song:

Redemption – Hurts


The DMLE

Monday 30th of August

Draco was pacing back and forth, waiting for Ben to say something.

"Septimus Cauldwell?"

Draco paused and turned to nod at the Head Auror.

"Sorenson's father?" Ben asked, his voice a little lower than usual.

"Yes," Draco sighed, "Sadie's having trouble processing that too."

Ben rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, "Draco, it's all speculation. Are you really telling me to take this higher on the word of Sadie Nott alone?"

"Yes," Draco replied honestly, "Because you know what Sadie means to me, Ben. I trust her judgement implicitly, so if it makes you more comfortable, you're going on my faith in her, not her word alone."

Ben sighed and met Draco's eye, "And I trust you implicitly, you know that. But I would never get this through a Minister without evidence, let alone through a Minister's proxy council."

Draco placed a handkerchief on the table and unfolded it.

"Is this enough evidence for you?" He asked darkly, "Test it, compare it to the file about the collapse of the central tower at Hogwarts during the final battle."

Ben stared at the remnants of the decoy detonator.

"Septimus Cauldwell modified this innocent item for Voldemort," Draco said quietly, "He turned it into a bomb, Ben, and then someone used a weapon just like this to kill an Auror and nine children in the Battle of Hogwarts."

"I know," Ben cut in quickly, "You don't have to give me a history lesson on the collapse of that tower. Okay? I was there."

"Sorry, Ben," Draco said quietly, "It's just…."

"… a lot," Ben finished.

Draco could only nod.

"I know," Ben said. He sat down behind his desk and opened a file on top of it.

"This came in around 3 am this morning," He said, motioning to the file, "It's the final death toll."

"I'm not sure I want to hear this," Draco said. He eyed his former prodigy anxiously and took a seat opposite his desk.

"No, you probably don't," Ben agreed, "But since it's all the Wizengamot are going to want to talk about at the emergency meeting tonight, you need to."

Draco looked at Ben with steely eyes, "Go on."

"Now that all of the missing people are accounted for, the final death toll sits at 133," Ben said, keeping his eyes down, "102 adults and 31 children."

Draco set his jaw and nodded.

"The youngest fatality was eight months old," Ben said with a shake of his head, "The people living in the flats above the Ice Cream Parlour didn't stand a fucking chance. But Sorenson still died getting two kids out of that building."

Draco took the file from Ben and tried to keep his tone even and his expression calm.

"Whole families have been wiped out."

"People were having dinner at Helga's Hotpot when one of the explosions went off right next to it. The top floor collapsed in on the ground floor, just like at the Leaky," Ben said. It was incredibly difficult to talk about it calmly when these names were so much more than names on a list. They were people they knew, people that Draco's children went to school with.

Draco leant forward, his head resting in his hands, "It's a miracle there weren't more deaths in the Closes."

"It's not a miracle," Ben said quietly, "It's the reason you're barely functional right now."

Draco groaned and muttered, "No, don't do that. Don't make me into some hero like they did to Snape after the war."

"I'm not," Ben said. He unfolded the morning edition of the Prophet, where the headline read:

"IN THE WAKE OF TRAGEDY, THE NATION UNITES."

The front page of the Prophet was full of photographs. One of Harry and Neville putting their staffs together to bring the wards down, another of Daphne and Bill holding the ward over the entrance into Muggle London from the Leaky Cauldron, and a final photograph of Draco and Harry carrying people out of the burning flats above the apothecaries.

Draco shook his head, "That doesn't matter. What matters is that this hits all of us, and it hits us hard. Every single one of us will know someone who died in that attack. We are a small, close-knit nation at heart, Ben."

Ben nodded and pressed his wand against the file to highlight a name.

"My brother was in the Leaky when it went down. I know we never saw eye to eye, and I don't doubt he was there with someone he shouldn't have been there with," Ben shrugged, "But he was my brother."

Draco nodded.

"And my cousin Penelope was there too," Ben continued, "With her husband who was a muggle and the most kind, unassuming person you could ever meet. They died when the flats above the Ice Cream Parlour came down, along with their 14-year-old son Dan and their 12-year-old daughter Amy."

Draco reached over and grasped his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

"I think the whole nation is sorry," Ben said with a sigh.


The Wizarding Wireless Network HQ

Hogsmeade

Harry was sitting in a little room with comfy chairs and a sign above the door that flashed with the words 'on air' every so often.

At the moment, a different show was airing before the news section would cut into it, so they were off the air.

"It's a good thing you didn't set up in Diagon Alley," Harry mused.

The news reporter who would be interviewing him shortly nodded. She had introduced herself as Fiona Spruce, and she looked older than Harry. He would put her at around the same age as Rob, Shep and Liz.

"We couldn't afford it when we set up," She said with a vague smile, "Radio didn't catch on here until the late '60s. We jumped on the chance to broadcast the news about the rise of You-Know-Who without having to push things through an editor like they had to at the Prophet. We're live here, we can say what we want, and they don't have a way to filter it."

Harry smiled slightly. He had known this woman for all of five minutes, but he already liked her.

"That's why I'm letting you make this announcement, not the Prophet," He admitted.

Fiona nodded and looked out of the window in the sound-proofed little room. The street outside was virtually empty.

"We have been wondering what all of this means for Diagon Alley," She confessed, "There has been talk of not rebuilding at all and instead moving the shopping district to here."

Harry looked out and sighed, "I don't know anything about that. But it wouldn't be my recommendation. There's a degree of sense in keeping the shopping district far away from the school. When you think of how many times Diagon Alley has been attacked…."

Fiona bowed her head, "My thoughts exactly. It's a shame you're here to announce yourself as the new Headmaster, not the new Minister."

Harry shook his head, "No, that's not a job I've ever wanted, and not one I'd be any good at either."

The sign above the door flashed, and Fiona looked at it then pressed a button in front of her.

"Good morning. You are listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network news. The headlines at 8 am, Monday the 30th of August," Fiona's voice had shifted entirely into a more professional tone.

"In the wake of the tragic Diagon Alley attacks, a final death toll is due to be released. The refuge centre at the Hermione Granger School for Young Witches and Wizards is caring for 16 children between the ages of 6 months and 14 years who we believe have been orphaned by the attack."

Harry swallowed and looked down.

"Headmaster Theodore Nott is at the school trying to secure safe places for all affected children. He has asked me to re-iterate that they desperately need mental health Healers in the wake of this crisis, particularly for these children who have lost so much."

Harry kept his gaze down. Hearing this buzzing out of the radio was one thing, but being a part of it was quite different.

"The Wizengamot meets tonight for an emergency meeting; we hope by the end of it officials will elect a new leader," Fiona continued, "Until then, Diagon Alley remains closed while the ministry carries out an investigation into what caused the explosions. The Daily Prophet has moved into temporary headquarters in Hogsmeade, and during this time, its editions will be shorter and much more news-based, as they were during the first and second wars against Lord Voldemort."

Fiona took a breath then carried on, "Several businesses in the alley have temporarily ceased to trade, and hundreds of civilians are without a home to stay in after the evacuation of over 200 flats."

She looked at Harry as if to say, 'this is your cue' and then went on to say.

"However, the new Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry Potter, joins me here today to discuss his plans to house these refugees."

As Daphne had always called it, Harry slipped into 'Head Auror mode'. He smiled and politely said, "Thank you, Fiona. I would like to make sure it's known that while I am taking on the role of Headmaster this year, it has nothing to do with the current political situation. I had made the decision long before the attack, but we were waiting for the right time to announce it."

Fiona chuckled and said, "I don't think any of us would have doubted Neville Longbottom's ability to lead the school throughout this war. We are well aware that his achievements come close to rivalling your own."

Harry smiled at that and said, "He would have been a fine role model for sure. However, my appointment as Headmaster does come at a time when we are seeing unprecedented levels of speculation about our world from the Muggles. I am aware that this presents a whole host of challenges, but for the moment, I'm focusing on the aftermath of the tragedy we all suffered through two days ago."

Harry took a breath and continued, "This attack has touched every single person in wizarding Britain. I have four children, and every one of them will have gone to school or worked with someone who lost their lives in the attack. As such, I have to make the difficult decision to postpone the start of the term by one month. All being well, the term will commence on the 1st of October."

"I am sure this a decision you came to with the Minister, not alone, but what is the ministry's stance on education in the midst of this?"

"It's still important, of course," Harry said calmly, "But not at the expense of anyone's lives. The ministry agrees with me – we allow the wizarding world to heal, then welcome children back to school. As I said, this has touched everyone – students have lost friends, siblings, parents…they need time to heal before they return to Hogwarts."

"Of course," Fiona said.

"In the time being, I will assist the Ministry however I can," Harry continued to say.

"And I have just begun the process of welcoming those who cannot go home to Diagon Alley into the castle until we can put alternate measures in place. When I was a child with nowhere to go, someone told me that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it, and that is something I wholeheartedly intend to uphold."

Fiona smiled and bowed her head, "Thank you very much, Professor Potter, for your time and your generosity. We all saw the photographs in the Prophet of you and Professor Longbottom freeing Diagon Alley from the wards that stopped help getting into them. And, of course, of you and Mr Black personally pulling people from the wreckage. Do you think you could offer your opinion on whether either of these men will step up to become the Minister we need to bring us through this crisis?"

Harry recognised a disguised political question when he heard one – he had been married to Daphne for long enough by now to know when a question didn't mean what you thought at first.

So he thought very carefully about how he worded his reply.

"Honestly, Fiona, I think it comes down to something the great Muggle Prime Minister Winston Churchill once said – 'those who can win a war well can rarely make a good peace, and those who could make a good peace would never have won the war'."

Fiona cocked her head at him.

Harry finished, "Neville Longbottom, and myself, can win a war on the battlefield, but that doesn't make us right to lead the nation through it. Draco Black, on the other hand… many people have doubted him throughout his life and he's well aware of that. But he's a man who has the best interests of this country at heart, and I think if Diagon Alley is the phoenix shedding its feathers and bursting into flame, then Draco Black could well be the man that helps the wizarding world to rise from those ashes."


Blacknot Castle

Draco groaned and let his head fall into his hands.

Sadie turned the radio off and calmly said, "Well, that cements it then, if Harry Potter has said that you ought to be the next Minister, then you can't say no when they ask you tonight."

Draco raised his head and looked at her, "If they ask me."

"When they ask you," Sadie said airily.

Draco got to his feet and shook his head, "I'm her husband, Sadie. I can't put myself forward in my wife's darkest hour, can I?"

"You can if she recommends you," Sadie said, "Which she will because, like Harry, she knows that you're the best person for the job."

Draco looked her in the eye and sighed, "And what if I'm just like my father? What if I become Minister and the power corrupts me?"

"That won't happen," Sadie said softly, "Because you are nothing like your father. Power doesn't change who you are, Draco; it just intensifies some traits. You're kind, unlike your father. He would never have spent the best part of 24 hours digging people out of the rubble after an attack like that, would he? He would have been giving speeches on the WWN or talking to the bloody Prophet while other people did the dirty work, but you were there in Diagon Alley, not holed up in the ministry talking politics."

Draco sighed and shook his head.

"It wasn't enough. Ben told me the final death toll this morning, and 133 people died….so it wasn't enough."

"I thought that, after the Battle of Hogwarts," Sadie said, reaching out and taking his hand, "I thought nothing I had done was enough because my father had killed ten people. And right now, you think you haven't done enough because you couldn't save everyone, but nobody can, Draco."

Draco looked up at her, and Sadie squeezed his hand, "Yes, 133 people died. But hundreds more are alive because you pulled them out of burning buildings or carried them to triage."

Draco swallowed and looked down.

"It was enough," Sadie whispered.

"I didn't save Sorenson," Draco said, his voice catching.

Sadie shook her head and looked down, "I don't think anybody could have. Sorenson died to get two children out of a collapsing building, and nothing anybody said or did would have stopped him from doing that because that was who he was."

Draco sighed, and Sadie leant forward to kiss his cheek. He nodded and got to his feet.

"Still, I think it's quite an assumption we're making," Draco said, "To assume that they will offer me the job on Harry Potter's recommendation alone."

"Maybe," Sadie said with a nod, "But if they do, promise me that you will say yes."

Draco looked at her and saw the tears she was fighting back just at the mention of Sorenson's death. He couldn't quite find the words straight away, so he simply nodded and pulled her into a hug.

"I promise."


The Wizengamot Courtroom

The Wizengamot courtroom was rarely quiet. It was always loud; people chattered or shouted at each other in the large room, voices carried and echoed.

But that evening, it was eerily quiet, and it was because they could all feel the gaps that the attack had left in the courtroom.

It should have been a meeting of 40 people, but having done a headcount when the doors shut, Harry only counted 29 of them here.

Hermione rose to her feet and cleared her throat, beginning the session with the same sentiment.

"We all know why we are here, but before we begin, let us take a moment to remember those from this organisation who lost their lives in Saturday's attack."

She bowed her head and listed their names, one by one, and everyone in the courtroom bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

"Mafalda Hopkirk, our longest-serving Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Thank you for standing in for her at such short notice, Arthur."

Arthur Weasley just bowed his head respectfully.

"Sorenson Cauldwell, Howard Abbott, Prospero Ollivander, Stefan Cornfoot, Cheryl Butcher, Blake Fletcher, Wayne Hopkins, Grim Fawley, Philip Shaw, Ludo Bagman and Anthony Goldstein."

They were all silent for a moment, then Hermione sighed and raised her head.

"Despite our recent losses, we still have enough members to carry out the vote to determine who should replace me as Minister for Magic. We will not leave this courtroom until we have chosen my successor, however long it takes."

She took a breath, "While it pains me to step down from a role when I still feel that I have a lot to offer to it, I must accept that I am no longer the person we need to lead this country. But we must think carefully on which one of us can do so."

Hermione nodded and looked out at the remnants of the Wizengamot, "I open the floor to nominations."

She took a step back, and immediately Oliver Wood raised his wand. It emitted a faint light, and Hermione nodded at him.

"I nominate Harry Potter," Oliver said, his voice quiet but steady, "Given the situation, we find ourselves in, should we not put power in the hands of the man who kept us all safe during the last war?"

Harry shook his head and got to his feet, "I'm honoured, Oliver. But with all due respect, I did not keep us all safe during the last war. People died, on my watch, people who I loved. Frankly, the Minister who is about to step down did a hell of a lot more to keep people alive during that war than I did. I just fired a spell at the right person, at the right time."

At that point, Roger Davies raised his hand, "Then I nominate Neville Longbottom. He killed the snake in the final battle. He has proven himself a worthy warrior and a good politician during his time running the Wizengamot and Hogwarts."

Neville sighed and got to his feet, "I appreciate the thought, Roger, but I am not even a member of the Wizengamot anymore. I was, by default, when I was Headmaster, but now that I've stepped down, that seat belongs to Harry. I'm only here to vote as my wife's proxy because she's still in St Mungo's."

Tiberius raised his wand and then got to his feet. He ran a hand through his grey hair and sighed, "We have lost much, all of us. I, for one, do not feel inclined to fight or bicker back and forth over this issue. There is but one man for the job, and I believe deep down, we all know that."

He shook his head, "I lost a daughter-in-law, a granddaughter and a great-grandson in the attack on Saturday. My son is heartbroken, and frankly, I cannot tell him that things will get better because right now, I do not know if they will."

The Wizengamot were silent as they listened to Tiberius speak.

"We need someone who can pull us together when our pain is so deep we feel like we are drowning," Tiberius said, "We need someone who understands the business of war, but who is not so power-hungry that he would seek to use it to our advantage. We need a man who has fought himself, who knows the tragedies that war brings to both sides. Only a man like that could desire peace as much as I, and I'm sure most of you do."

He swallowed and looked around the room.

"With that in mind, I nominate the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – Draco Black."

Draco stood and took a breath, "Thank you, Tiberius. Minister for Magic is not a role that I ever desired. I never fancied myself to be a Ministry man, despite my father's intentions for me. Being an Auror was my dream, and I did for as long as I could until doing so became too painful for my family."

He took another breath and looked out at the others, "But being head of the DMLE matters to me as much as being an Auror did. Not because it's a position of power or prestige, but because it's the best seat in the house when you want to change the way things work and…I do realise that having done the job for the past five years, it makes me uniquely capable of taking control during a time of war."

"For that reason, I accept the nomination," Draco said with a slight nod, "And if you choose to elect me, I will do the very best I can to lead us out of the darkness that has fallen on our nation."

Hermione nodded and raised her voice. With Howard Abbott's death, she was acting as Chief Warlock at the moment.

"Does anyone second the nomination?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt instantly raised his wand, which surprised several people – not least Draco, who'd always gotten the impression that Kingsley saw his father in him and therefore didn't like him very much.

"I do. At this point, we must unite against our common enemy, and if anyone can unite the wizarding world in a time of crisis, it is the man who has known the best and the worst of it and has come out a better man despite it all."

Draco swallowed and bowed his head.

"Hear, hear," Harry agreed.

Hermione gave him an exasperated look, "Professor Potter – order, please. We are in session."

Harry would normally have grinned, but the brevity of the situation was heavy in the air, so he could only manage a small smile in response.

Hermione looked back out to the Wizengamot, "Do we have any other nominations?"

There was no response, so Hermione nodded and raised her voice, "Then we vote. All in favour of swearing-in Draco Black as the Minister for Magic for Great Britain and Ireland, please raise your wands."

Every single wand in the courtroom was raised, which made Draco inhale sharply.

Hermione smiled slightly and brought the hammer down.

"Then it's unanimous, for the first time since the swearing-in of Leonard Spencer-Moon in 1939," Hermione said as she tried to hide her proud smile.

"Draco Black is sworn in as the 40th Minister for Magic to serve Great Britain and Ireland."

Applause broke out, and Hermione motioned for Draco to come forward because, of course, they were expecting a speech. He shot a small smile at Sadie and silently thanked her for their conversation earlier.

'You're welcome', she mouthed.

When Hermione stepped back, and Draco took her place, that was when it felt real.

"I stand before you here at the point of no return. We have been at war between ourselves before, but not since the rise of Grindelwald, have we rallied together against a foe like this," Draco said calmly.

"It is now that we must realise that if we stop defining each other by what we are not and start defining ourselves by what we are – we can all be freer. Blood status, financial status, the name we bear. None of this matters if our world is exposed to the Muggles like it so nearly was during the horrific attack we suffered through three days ago."

He paused to take a breath, "United, we must stand – against cruelty and poverty as well as against those who wish to expose us.

As a Muggle Prime Minister once said – I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat – and that is what I offer the wizarding world in our time of crisis."

The applause was resounding.

- TBC -