A/N Well it's been a LONG time, sorry for the delay, but a bunch of other things have gotten in the way of me writing like I wish I could. I hope you understand, and if you don't, oh well I'm not getting paid for this. But I am sorry for those of you who do look forward to updates to this story. On the Brightside this is the longest chapter I've published so far.
To address the questions that a couple of people have asked, yes there is a plan for this story. I have a chapter by chapter run down of how things will proceed. Of course I'm always going back and changing little things, but the main details have all been set in stone. Now without any more self-defense let's get this chapter started.
At five to five Harry and Hermione left Ron and the other Gryffindors behind and began their trek to Umbridge's class. The two were in stark contrast to each other, Harry walked along whistling like he hadn't a care in the world, while Hermione glared at him sullenly.
After having lived in a veritable fishbowl for 4 years Harry had come to despise showing the weaker emotions, like anger, and sadness. To his mind they would only lower people's opinion of him, and in that regard he was probably right; nobody liked famous people who acted like they were a persecuted minority.
Hermione on the other hand, rarely cared about what others thought of her, and therefore felt completely justified in being moody. He found that attitude annoying at times, but deep down Harry had to admit that he admired that strength.
"I can't believe you got me detention," Hermione muttered as they walked down the staircase.
"Take responsibility for your own actions Miss Granger," Harry replied in a sarcastically adult voice.
"Twit," she muttered, as they stepped into the third floor corridor.
"At your service milady," Harry mock bowed to her.
"Oh ha, ha, you're so funny," Hermione answered.
"Sarcasm doesn't suit you," Harry replied, mildly surprised at the uncharacteristic reply from Hermione. "Look on the Brightside; at least you're not one of those losers who never got a detention. I mean that's like going all through Hogwarts and never having a boyfriend."
Hermione went beet red at that, besides the Yule Ball she had never had a date, preferring to spend her time studying or with Harry and Ron. Harry for his part hadn't remembered that, and felt mildly embarrassed for having said it. He wasn't exactly Hugh Heffner, but he had, had girlfriends before, though being 15 he had never gone farther than making out.
They were both saved from the awkward silence by their arrival outside of Umbridge's door. Hermione paused to gather herself, Harry on the other hand flung open the door without knocking and proceeded to cross the room and go up the steps to the door of Umbridge's Office.
"Come in," came Umbridge's annoyingly high pitched voice, before Harry had the chance to knock. He entered cautiously, looking around.
The office had changed much from last year. All of Mad-eyes, detection devices and teaching materials had disappeared, with them had gone the dark and mysterious atmosphere. Instead the room looked like an unholy cross between an 8 year-old girl's idea of tasteful, mixed with fun as seen by slowly aging woman's, who was just coming to the realization that she would never have kids.
In Harry's time at Hogwarts the office had been decorated in many different ways. Lockhart had plastered pictures of himself and various other memorabilia all across the room. Lupin, and Mad-eye had favored a more utilitarian approach, and had filled the room with things they were planning to show the class, or in Mad-eye's case things at least related to defense.
Under Umbridge every surface in the office was draped in some horrible variation of lace and pink cloth. The walls were decorated with ornamental plates, that portrayed a lack of taste, that even Harry could perceive.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger,"
Harry jumped in surprise, he had not noticed Umbridge as she was wearing a shade of pink that acted as good camouflage considering the background.
"Good evening ma'am," Harry said in tone that betrayed none of the annoyance he was currently feeling.
"Professor," Hermione's voice was respectful if slightly stiff.
'Well sit," Umbridge said gesturing towards a single table that had two sheets of parchment sitting on it, and one bench along the far side, for Harry and Hermione to sit on. Both the table and the bench were draped in the same nauseating pink as the rest of the room.
"Now you will both, be writing lines for me, no not with your quills," she smiled predatorily as Hermione reached for her bag. "I have some special ones, that you'll be using," her smile got wider, and more cartoonish in Harry's opinion as she said that.
"You Mr. Potter will write 'I must not tell lies,'" Umbridge explained happily, "and you Miss Granger 'I will not speak out of turn."
"How many times? Ma'am" Hermione asked politely.
"Oh, until the message sink in."
Harry raised his quill to begin writing and then stopped. "You haven't given me any ink ma'am?"
"Oh you won't need ink, Mr. Potter," there was something sadistic in her voice, but Harry shrugged it off.
He placed the point of the quill to the paper and slowly wrote, I must not tell lies. As soon as he had completed the line he felt a sharp pain in his right and hand, and almost dropped the quill in surprise. He heard a small gasp come from Hermione as she apparently discovered the same thing he had.
Harry could almost feel Umbridge watching him, and he refused to show weakness. He placed the quill on his paper and slowly began to write again, he heard Hermione follow his example a few seconds later. On and on it went. Again and again Harry set the pen to paper and wrote out the words she had told him to.
Part of him wanted to rise out of the chair and throw the pen at her and walk out, but he wouldn't. That would be a petulant display of anger, and ultimately accomplish nothing. Plus it would show Umbridge that she had gotten to him, and that was not acceptable.
Slowly darkness fell outside of Umbridge's window, and Harry continued. He did not ask to stop, he didn't even check his watch. She was watching him, waiting for him to show weakness, and probably rubbing one off under the desk, at the thought of him asking to leave. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction, he would continue all night if he had too…
Suddenly he felt pressure on his thigh. He cautiously glanced at Umbridge, and saw that she was absorbed in grading papers. He then looked over at Hermione, to see what she wanted, and was surprised to see her right hand still racing across the paper leaving, a steady trail of blood. She didn't even seem to notice that she was touching him, and had probably done it out of instinct. He looked into the corner of her eye, and saw an unshed tear. The whole scene hurt him on a deeper level then he was used to.
He slowly realized that Hermione had been ready to walk out the second she had seen her blood on the paper, but she had followed his lead as she had always done before. She had trusted him to speak up for her, and to know what the right thing to do was. Over the last four years she had put her faith in him, as her leader. And he had failed her.
He had put his petty pride over the wellbeing of someone who trusted him, and the thought sickened him. Logically he knew that he would have to sacrifice people in the coming war, but this wasn't some faceless wizard. This wasn't just anyone, who he had never met, and who he certainly felt no obligation to. This was Hermione, who'd stood by him no matter what anyone else had said. The sight of her blood slowly oozing from her hand, and his own refusal to do anything about it enraged him.
Slowly his hand moved over and plucked the quill from Hermione's. She jumped and looked over at him in shock.
"Is there a problem Mr. Potter?" Umbridge asked in a sickly sweet voice.
"We're done here," Harry said calmly, standing up.
"I don't believe you are," Umbridge answered clearly pleased by his defiance.
"Too bad your opinion doesn't count," Harry replied, picking up his bag, and gently tugging Hermione out of her seat.
"If you walk out that door Mr. Potter, you'll have another week of detention and I'll take 50 points from Gryffindor, is it really worth it?"
"If you do that, I'll make you wish you were never born," Harry replied in a matter of fact way.
"Do you really think Dumbledore can do that to me?" she was clearly amused, "the Minister himself gave me the authority to teach here."
"Do you really think the Minister can protect you from the British legal system? I pay a lawyer 30 galleons a month to sit on his fat ass. I might as well let him sue you for all your worth. I'll say that your little blood quill amounts to assault. I probably won't win, but the case will be tied up in the courts for years, and you'll be paying an arm and a leg for an attorney the whole time," Harry said with vindictive pleasure.
"How much do you make a year Ma'am? 20,000? 30,000? Can you afford to pay a lawyer for years on end? I can," that wasn't entirely true but Umbridge couldn't know that. "by the time I'm done with you, you won't have any retirement money left, and that's if you win. So tell me ma'am is it really worth it?"
Harry didn't give her the chance to reply instead he hurried Hermione out the door and out of the classroom before Umbridge could regain her composure.
"I can't believe you!" Hermione said once they were safely on the Staircase back to Gryffindor Tower.
"What, the bitch deserves it," Harry answered nonchalantly.
"I've never seen you talk to a teacher like that," Hermione said her voice oddly admiring, "even Snape."
"Snape's an asshole," Harry answered, "but even he has lines he doesn't cross."
"For a second…" Hermione began, "when it first happened… I didn't know who you were for a second."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked confused.
"You would've never taken that before, you wouldn't have let anyone do anything like that to you," Hermione said cautiously. "You've always been so confident, and so ready to stand up for yourself… I guess when you didn't do anything, I didn't do anything."
"I'm not the same person I was Hermione," Harry answered cautiously. "I used to stand up for myself because I thought I needed to prove something, to prove that I was worth all the attention people gave me." Harry searched for the right words to describe what was really such a complex and unspoken shift in his character. "I guess I've gotten smarter, and more to the point she was waiting for me to storm out of there, and I didn't want to give her the satisfaction."
"Then why did you?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Well, it wasn't just me there," Harry left it at that, there was after all no point in making more of the incident then there was. One of his friends had been in trouble, and he felt some obligation to help.
"We're changing, aren't we?" Hermione said with a sigh.
"Yeah," Harry replied, "I guess we are."
"We aren't as close as we used to be," Hermione said it in a way that gave the impression that she had been wanting to get that off her chest for a while.
"No," Harry answered honestly, "we aren't."
"I don't like it," Hermione's voice was cautious, "I miss being friends with you, I'm even starting to miss Ron."
"We're still friends," Harry answered with a shrug.
"Not like we used to be, why not?"
"You said it yourself, we're changing," Harry said with a shrug, "when we first got here, I was bullied loser, you were a nerd, and Ron was… well Ron. We aren't that anymore."
"No you're not that anymore," Hermione's voice was sad, "I'm still a bookworm, and Ron is still… Ron. You're the only one who's changed."
"I've changed for the better," Harry answered with conviction, "and you two aren't my only friends anymore, but that doesn't mean that I've forgotten about everything that we've been through."
"It feels that way sometimes Harry," She replied looking at the ground, "I miss you…"
The conversation sputtered out from there. As much as Harry insisted otherwise, Hermione was his past, and he knew it. She was a memory, of a different time. He could wish that things were different and that they could be as close as they once were, but he knew that they never would be. Part of him mourned, and part of him understood that he was headed towards greener pastures.
Harry took genuine pleasure the next morning, when on his way to breakfast he saw the Gryffindor Hourglass still had all the rubies it was supposed to. Of course he highly doubted that Umbridge was done with him, he had still won the battle, if not quite the war.
The rest of the week passed with little of importance happening. Ron made the quidditch team, and as much as Harry hated to admit it, he was the best choice. There was one girl who had been better, but she was one of those annoying types who was into a lot of different clubs, and wouldn't be able to devote her whole time to the team. McClaggen had also tried out, but he was an asshole.
On Saturday there was an article in the Daily Prophet about a Sturgis Podmore, apparently the man had tried to break into the Department of Mysteries and had been promptly arrested. According to Hermione the Podmore was a member of Dumbledore's Order. Given what he had observed Harry wasn't at all surprised by the stunning incompetence. Though he paid the information little attention, there were a million things in the Department of Mysteries that Dumbledore could've wanted. To Harry's mind it would be a waste of time to try and narrow the list down.
The night of the 8th found Harry nervously tying a cravat about his neck, while silently promising to bring the tie back into fashion for formal dress. "Do I look alright Dobby?" Harry asked the elf, who nodded happily. "Good," Harry said vaguely realizing that Dobby probably would've said the same thing had he been covered in mud. There was however no time to dwell on it as he was running late for his meeting with Lord Downey.
Harry tumbled out of the fireplace and into a small antechamber, decorated in a somber though dignified green. The room was sparsely furnished with only a coat rack to Harry's right, which already held two cloaks. Before Harry had a chance to move a solid oak door on his left opened to admit a brown haired middle age man about Harry's height, dressed in black robes.
"Welcome to La Maison, Mr. Potter," The man said pleasantly enough. "I'm Thomas Powell, Lord Downey's Chief of Staff."
"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Powell," Harry hid the annoyance he was feeling, he had wanted to keep this meeting quiet, and now it seemed Downey had went and told half the world.
'The pleasure is mine Mr. Potter," Powell had a slippery air about him that made harry instantly think of a worm, or for that matter anything slimy really. "His Lordship, is waiting in the dining room, if you'll follow me."
Powell led Harry, through the oak door, from which he Powell had entered, and into a lavishly decorated dining room. The overriding color seemed to be burgundy, with gold coming in as a close second that combined with a roaring fire in the corner, combined to make it a warm and hospitable place.
"My Lord," Powell said to a middle age rotund man seated, at the dining table, "may I present to you, The Honorable Harry Potter."
"Of course you may!" the man jumped enthusiastically from his place and moved to shake Harry's hand. Harry's first impression of the man was that he looked rather like hunting dog, who had grown fat with old age. Indeed the Viscount possessed the nose of a basset hound, and his black hair was beginning to streak with grey. His figure was… rotund. His stormy grey eyes however betrayed the intelligence that lurked underneath the age and fat.
"Mr. Potter, the Right Honorable Viscount Downey," Powell finished as the Peer grasped Harry's out stretched hand.
"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed the Viscount, "it's truly an honor to meet you!"
"The honor is mine My Lord," Harry said with what he hoped was a charming smile.
"You flatter me, Mr. Potter, but come now, we must get to business, have a seat, have a seat," The Viscount gestured towards the dining table. "Now you're letter was, shall we say… vague, about your intentions."
"Oh I thought I was rather clear," Harry replied, "I want to arrange an alliance between the two of us."
"Yes I got that part, but Mr. Potter, you must understand that I'm a little bit confused about what you mean. For that matter I'm quite unclear about exactly who you're here to represent."
"I represent myself-," Harry began.
"Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Potter," interrupted the Viscount, "but am I to understand that this meeting is taking place independent of Dumbledore?"
"I am here on my own," Harry replied calmly, he had been expecting a reaction like this.
"You'll forgive my shock, but until this moment it always appeared as if you and Dumbledore were… a package deal."
"I have nothing but respect for the professor, but I feel he is out of touch," Harry paused searching for the right words, "He doesn't quite get the way things are going."
"Does this have anything to do with, er… Him," the Viscount said in a whispered voice that could only mean Voldemort.
"No, not directly at least, his return does add urgency to the situation," Harry answered cautiously. "You were around fifteen years ago, you saw how… ineffective his resistance was. Fifteen years hasn't made him any younger my lord."
"Well no, but youth isn't what we need in this situation," Harry was only mildly surprised to see the Viscount treat the return of Voldemort as a given. "We need a firm hand, and he may be the only one with the popularity to unite us."
"There is another," Harry answered calmly.
"You?" the Viscount asked with a wry smile.
"No My Lord," Harry paused for dramatic effect, "you."
The Viscount threw his head back and let out a deep laugh, "come now Mr. Potter I know my place in the world, and in any case we should order before they throw us out. I'll have the usual," the Viscount said talking to his plate.
After ordering and having his food appear the Viscount sat in silence for a minute before continuing, "What makes you think I'm the right man for the job Mr. Potter?"
"You aren't the right man, you're the only man," Harry answered truthfully. "Malfoy is clearly unacceptable; Fudge will be disgraced the second the news of Voldemort's return breaks-"
Downey sniffed slightly at the mention of Voldemort's name, but otherwise showed no reaction.
"And Dumbledore," Harry continued, "is too old and too liberal, to lead."
"That's your opinion Mr. Potter," the Viscount said stiffly, "the electorate will see it differently."
"Oh they might at first, but they won't stand for him in the long run," Harry replied, "his policies are too controversial. He's advocated for granting the werewolves increased freedoms, and he's sent envoys on behalf of the Kingdom to the giants!"
"Has he?" the Viscount looked stunned by that information, "Merlin's beard they'll be riots in the streets if word ever gets out. The entirety of Scotland would go Federalist in an hour, Wales wouldn't be far behind, they live close enough to those savages as it is. What is he thinking?"
"He's thinking that he'll be the next leader, well not Dumbledore personally but his chosen man rest assured," Harry replied. "And when that day comes, he'll push through all the things he's been blabbering on about for years; The Fair Wages Act, The Bill of Rights for Bonded Beings, Antidiscrimination acts for werewolves, extending recognition to giants as sentient beings!"
"I see your point," Downey said cautiously, "Dumbledore cannot be allowed into office, it would destroy our civilization!"
"As you see my lord, all other candidates are unacceptable to me, to you, and to people of Great Britain, the only person left is you," Harry pointed out.
"I'll have trouble enough surviving the next general election much less winning it," Downey replied truthfully.
"If you had me on your side," Harry replied, "if I endorsed you…"
Downey snorted, "in time your support will mean something, but for the moment it isn't doing Dumbledore much good, and it won't help me either… However there are certain members of the government, who've accepted his return, if you were to be seen to support me in front of them, it would shore up support from the right sort of people. Lords, Ministers, chosen backbenchers, and campaign donors…."
"I see your point My Lord," Harry said, "and if you may permit me to point it out if you were to be seen to denounce Voldemort at exactly the right time it would allow you to steal a large portion of the Federalist vote, their conservative members won't feel comfortable voting for Dumbledore."
"Well yes," Downey said skeptically, "but only if the Dark Lord goes public before the General Election. And of course if I come out too late I just look like another bloody idiot jumping on the bandwagon. No, no, no, it would be best if we don't rely on him showing himself before the election, we must plan as if he shall remain hidden indefinitely."
"What are your thoughts on the-" Harry began before Powell who had exited the room shortly after introducing the two reentered and walked over to Downey.
"Well that is unexpected…" said Downey, as Powell whispered in his ear and left.
"Problem, My Lord?" Harry asked.
"Perhaps, or maybe an opportunity," Downey replied, "Fudge has appointed Umbridge to be the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, I must admit I didn't see that coming."
"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition," Harry answered before he could stop himself.
"I beg your pardon?" Downey asked looking confused.
"er… nothing, My Lord," Harry replied embarrassed.
"Quite…" Downey said before turning back to the letter, "I can't see the traditionalist backbenchers being all too happy about this."
"Something you can exploit my Lord?" Harry pointed out.
"It's a start, the independence of Hogwarts is usually very well respected, well besides appointing Dumbledore, but that was a special case."
"So what are you planning to do?" Harry asked.
"Speech in the House of Peers about the Sanctity of Education, the right of Parents to decide how their children are educated, Ministry incompetence in managing state schools etcetera," Downey replied.
"Purely offensive?" that wasn't exactly the strategy that Harry would've pursued.
"Well at first that's what the papers and the voters like," Downey answered, "in a week or so I'll give my alternative to educational reform in a WWW discussion panel or something of the sort."
"So returning to my proposal…" Harry said steering them back to topic.
"Quite. Am I to understand that the end result of this partnership is to see me either elected as Minister of Magic, or at least a member of a coalition government."
"That was my purpose," Harry replied.
"You're willing to do endorse me, and for lack of a better phrase, follow my lead until the defeat of the Dark Lord?"
"Within reason," Harry answered truthfully enough, as good as he was he was still fifteen.
"Very well, what are your demands?" The Viscount asked.
Harry had thought long and hard about this and so he replied, "First I want unrestricted access to you, day or night if I want to talk to you about something I don't have to schedule an appointment I just show up."
"That's acceptable," Downey answered, "so long as I receive similar access to you."
Harry nodded his agreement before continuing, "I want a senior position in the hunt for Voldemort, I want to be included in the decision making process, and I want to have complete freedom of movement."
"That might be a problem," Downey paused, "to have the political endorsement of the Boy-Who-Lived is a plus. But to put a 15 year old in charge of the nation's defense is folly."
"I fully understand that," harry said truthfully, "but the position does not need to be officially important, only unofficially."
"That is slightly more acceptable, but even then, to put a 15 year old in any position of responsibility is rather… unwise. Meaning no offense to you of course, but your age group isn't known for the qualities of generalship."
"Milord, with all due respect," Harry began with a sigh, "my offer is on the table take it or leave it."
"There is of course a compromise position here," Downey answered, "you could be put in a relatively midlevel position, that wouldn't draw to much suspicion from the public."
"I repeat myself, your lordship, my offer is on the table take it or leave it."
"Perhaps you could be placed in charge of a company of soldiers attached to the task group that I will form to take down Voldemort."
"What will the role of this company be?" Harry asked.
"It will be the primary combat unit of the task force," Downey replied after some thought, "You'll still answer to a higher command, for all strategic matters. But once the situation becomes tactical in nature you'll have complete control. And due to your senior position you will always be included in war councils."
That was a tempting offer to Harry, it meant that he would most likely be there when Voldemort died, and would most likely be the one to take much of the credit. "That is acceptable, if and only if I am able to hand select all members of the company, and if I am able to select my superiors."
"The leadership of the task group will be appointed by myself, that is nonnegotiable," Downey was clearly resolute on that point. "However if you insist I will seek your opinion before making any major appointments."
"That works for me," Harry hadn't expected much more than that, "but I must be the one responsible for selecting my subordinates, I don't plan to compromise on that."
"You may select the members of your company," Downey said with a sigh, "but when the time comes, you will at least consult with me and the task group leadership, though final authority will rest with you."
"I'll accepted that," Harry hadn't honestly expected Downey to give him that much, though he hid his elation. "Finally there's the matter of compensation after the whole matter of Voldemort is cleared up."
"Quite," Downey took a small sip of his drink, "how about an earldom and a gratuity of say 100,000?"
"I'll take the Earldom, and the gratuity, but there are some additional things I would like," Harry countered.
"Such as?"
"A ministerial position of some seniority within a year of Voldemort defeat," Harry replied.
"That's reasonable, and if it is within my power you'll have it."
Harry paused wondering about the wisdom of his next request, but ultimately he decided there was no way around it. "Also the forgiveness of my debts."
Downey to his credit managed to conceal his surprise, "just how much debt are we discussing here, Mr. Potter?"
"Quite frankly none of your business, my lord," Harry answered calmly.
"That much eh?" Downey asked before he could stop himself. "I'm sure we can arrange something," he said quickly reverting back to his usual calm and in control self.
"In that case I believe we have a deal, milord," Harry said glad Downey hadn't probed any further.
"Not so fast, Mr. Potter," Downey replied, "I have demands of my own."
"Such as?" Harry asked.
"I'm placing a great deal of trust in you Harry," Downey said cautiously, "my entire career is resting in your hands, but I don't know very much of your abilities, allow me to employ some tutors for you."
"For what?" Harry asked confused.
"Your table manners for one, don't misunderstand me," Downey added quickly once he realized how that sounded, "You're very polite for one with no training. But you will be dining with nobility who've been trained on how to behave in every situation, there's no way you can hope to do the same without help. There are laws of etiquette that you simply can't comprehend without a tutor. Also there's combat… I've heard you're good, but I somehow doubt that a 15 year old can take on the Dark Lord, no matter how good, and of course military tactics and strategy, if your to take a leading role in the war then you must have some training in the military arts."
Harry felt a stab of annoyance at Downey's suggestion, but he managed to keep that from showing on his face. Even though the insinuations of what the Viscount had said angered him he had to admit that maybe he had a point. "I'll agree to that."
"Excellent, Mr. Potter!" Downey said while he reached over and shook Harry's hand. "If it's alright with you, I'll set about organizing a little coming out party for our new alliance. No press just five or six people who can be trusted, and whose support we may very well need soon enough."
"That's fine," Harry replied even though he knew that despite the phrasing Downey hadn't been making a request. Harry didn't like being ordered around, but he had expected it, no adult ever took a 15 year old seriously. The difference between Downey and Dumbledore was that with Downey he had leverage.
"Then the party conference is approaching rapidly, Downey continued as if Harry had not spoken, "unless there's a major shift in public opinion I don't think you should be in the spot light. However I do want you to attend and I do believe I can arrange a way for you to attend incognito, expect that-"
"Excuse me Milord," Powell interrupted as he reentered the room, "but Harrington Hall, says Mrs. Hunter wants a word."
"Can't it wait Tom?" Downey looked annoyed at the interruption.
"I'm afraid not sir," Powell replied calmly, "the morning edition will go to the press in three hours."
"Can't it wait half an hour? That should leave her enough time."
"Mrs. Hunter implied that if you don't give her the dissenting opinion then the papers would go to press without one."
"No dissenting opinion?" The news seemed to shock Downey.
"Well besides, 'a spokesman from Babington House had no comment," Harry recognized the name as being the official Whig Party Headquarters.
"Idiots," Downey muttered, "I'm sorry to cut this short Mr. Potter, but it appears that I have to go do an interview."
"It's alright my Lord, I understand the necessity," harry answered.
"I'll be in touch soon Mr. Potter," Downey answered with a polite smile. And like that he was gone leaving Harry with a lot to think about.
Daphne Greengrass awoke with a start, her eyes darted back and forth across the dark dorm room, searching for the source of her discomfort. Then her mind finally processed the vibration coming from the ring on her left hand. She muttered a silent curse, her uncle had given her the ring right before school had begun.
She had dismissed it and his message as being just paranoia on his part, he had always been protective of her, and the rumors of the Dark Lord's return might've frightened him. She couldn't understand why he was calling for her now though. As far as she knew there had been no new news about the Death Eaters and he knew she would get in major trouble if she was caught sneaking out of Hogwarts.
She was sorely tempted to turn down his summons, but she knew that she could never do that. Loyalty to one's liege lord was an ingrained part of pureblood culture, and Daphne had always felt particularly close to her uncle. When her parents had been murdered he had done his duty and taken her and Astoria in.
So it was with a sigh that she got out of her four poster bed, threw on a fresh pair of robes, and laced up her shoes. The Common room was for the most part deserted, but the presence of a few first years, enjoying their newfound freedom by the fire, precluded that as a means of transport. Thinking quickly she left the common room and headed out into the dungeons of Hogwarts. She took a series of turns, stairs, and more turns, that any outsider would've found impossible to remember, until she came to an unassuming brown wooden door, at the end of a cold and dark corridor, about 10 minutes from the Slytherin Common Room. The room behind the door was abandoned and had been for as long as Daphne or anyone currently in Slytherin could remember. It was like so many rooms in Hogwarts, seemingly built for an expansion, or other purpose that never came to fruition. Whatever its original purpose, Daphne was more interested in the large fireplace, contained in the room.
"Incendio!" She cried pointing her wand at the fireplace. The light from her wand connected with the pile of wood that the house-elves habitually maintained in all fireplaces in Hogwarts, no matter how little used. She quickly emptied a small baggie of silver powder onto the fire, which instantly turned into a startling green.
"Harington Hall," Daphne said steeping into the fire, before she quite knew what had happened she was being carried by a gust of hot air through half of magical Britain. Daphne was vaguely aware of other rooms on the outside of the floo connection, but they moved so fast that she could never get more than a blur of colors. When she was a child she had always tried to get a better look, to see for a moment into someone else's life. She had long go decided it was futile, but part of her always looked even so. She felt the flow of the floo start to slow, and prepared to step out.
She felt a small amount of nausea, but quelled it as she stepped out of the fireplace and into an ornately decorated reception room.
"Can I help you Miss?" asked a blonde receptionist, who looked to be barely out of school.
"Miss Greengrass for the Viscount," Daphne answered brushing soot of her robes.
"Yes ma'am," the mention of the Viscount immediately changed the blonde's perspective on Daphne, "his lordship sent word ahead. He'll be in his study, do you know the way?"
"I can manage," Daphne had practically grown up in Harington Hall; her father had been a party insider since before she was born. Her uncle had been a party insider, since almost before he had been born, his father having been a leader in the House of Lords.
Harington Hall should've stayed with Puck and his branch of the Conservative Association when the split occurred, but it had been the personal property of Duke Charles, who had always been one of her uncle's supporters. The frail old man had point blank refused to see the lease transferred to Puck, and the new party head hadn't wanted to make a big scene out of disagreeing with the popular Duke.
"You're late," a disheveled Downey stated as Daphne entered his private study.
"I came as soon as I could," She replied truthfully.
"Hmpf! Well don't just stand their take a seat," Downey gestured at the armchair across from him.
"Is there a reason you called me here?" Daphne asked surprised by her uncle's uncharacteristically grouchy mood.
"Perhaps it's time you thought of marriage," he ventured cautiously.
"I'm 15," Daphne's stomach dropped a few thousand feet the second she heard that word. Every pureblood girl of the upper-class, knew that one day they would have to have a conversation like this, and every one of them dreaded it.
"Yes, now really is the time to start thinking about these things," Downey replied, "It doesn't actually need to be finalized for a year or two, but the idea should be… explored."
"This isn't about me is it?"
"You?" Downey asked, surprised, "whatever gave you the idea that it was about you? It's about your family, our future, your duty."
"Somehow I expected my uncle to care about my wellbeing, how silly of me," Daphne had always known this day would come, but it was here, and somehow she still felt hurt.
"Don't be cheeky, it doesn't suit you."
"Who do you expect me to marry anyways?" Daphne asked as she nervously fiddled with a strand of her hair.
"How about Harry Potter," Downey said glancing down at his hands in apparent guilt.
"Potter!" Daphne exclaimed in shock.
"Me and him have been discussing various things… he seems like a good enough man."
"I don't care what you've been discussing, I won't do it!" Daphne exclaimed furious at the very idea. Did her uncle realize what her housemates would do to her? And Potter? He was so… not what she had expected, or wanted for that matter.
"Why not?" Downey pressed, "he isn't an ugly fellow, stands to inherit a title next year, and once this whole firestorm blows over he'll be a hero again."
"Heroes and titles, that's all you ever care about isn't it?" Daphne replied disgusted.
"What else is there to care about?" Downey asked amused, "emotions personality? I don't even recognize the people who I was friends with when I was your age. They've all changed, the meanest men have become puppies and the nicest kneel in front of the Dark Lord. People change, Daphne, titles don't, titles are always useful, and friends who have them are friends that are good to have."
"How typical," Daphne sneered at her uncle in disgust, "you and politics you're always chasing the power aren't you? You're like those solicitors who sit around the waiting room at Saint Mungo's just looking for your opportunity."
"You're rather hostile to this," Downey commented drily.
"How would you be?" Daphne asked outraged, "I thought you cared about me, I thought I was more than just another asset to you."
"Oh Daphne, I do," Downey looked hurt at the accusation, but Daphne wasn't prepared to believe him. "Our world, stands on the edge of an abyss, we need to save it! And if we can't save it, we can at least help our family to survive. My alliance with Potter will put me in a position to protect you and your sister, and I don't believe the alliance will be secure unless he has some reason to stay loyal to me."
"Why do you have to ally yourself with Potter? Why him?"
"Who else is there?" Downey asked reasonably, "Fudge? That door was closed a long time ago. Dumbledore? I would sooner give up politics and move to Canada then toe his line. Voldemort…? No Potter is the only option."
'Why not go it yourself?" Daphne asked.
"Potter has agreed to support me for Minister of Magic," Downey said as he watched Daphne's eyes widen in surprise. The Conservatives had been out of power for nearly 100 years; even their diehard supporters doubted they would ever reclaim the government benches.
"I know what you're thinking, and you're partially right," Downey continued, "it is a pipedream… without Potter, but with him…"
"So you're selling me for the Ministry?" Daphne asked sarcastically.
"No haven't you been listening!" Downey snapped, "If I-, if we allied ourselves with Voldemort, we would ally ourselves with Malfoy by extension. Do you want that? After what he did your parents? Do you want me to put myself in Malfoy's hands knowing how his son, Draco, looks at you? I've heard rumors that Malfoy is thinking about offering a, marriage contract, and without Potter I might be forced to consent, if only to save our lives"
"No!" Daphne said angrily, "I'll never marry that pig, Draco!"
"Then Fudge?" Downey continued, "I burned that bridge a long time ago, and even if he would have me he'll be dead by the end of the year. As soon as everyone knows that Voldemort is back Fudge will lose all credibility and power."
"Dumbledore then," Downey charged on, "He and I are polar opposites politically, but he would take me into his camp. He would welcome my support and he would he treat me like a long lost brother, but I would have to surrender all that I believe in! All your father believed in! All you believe in!"
"And if I tried to survive by myself as I've always done, the Dark Lord will kill me!" Downey said angrily, "He doesn't need neutrals, he needs followers. As for you, he would kill you too… if you're lucky."
"Fine!" Daphne snapped, "You need Potter, but why do you need me to marry him?"
"Dumbledore has been Potter's protector for what 14 years now?" Downey asked rhetorically. "He has provided that boy with everything that he could've asked for, and the second there's a whiff of unpopularity around him Potter drops him like he's nothing. How can I be sure he won't do the same to me?"
"If he however is in love with someone who is unshakably loyal to me…" Downey reasoned, "Then he would fine betraying me much harder, almost impossible."
"He sounds like excellent husband material," Daphne said fighting the urge to cry.
"Love tends to calm a man, makes him more stable more dependable-"
"And if it doesn't?" Daphne interrupted, "what then?"
"Do I really have to tell you?" Downey asked annoyed, "you're a pureblood woman; you'll hold your head high and pretend not to notice."
"I don't want this," Daphne said mournfully."
"I know," Downey replied, "and in a perfect world I wouldn't ask it of you. But this isn't a perfect world and I'm not a perfect man.
"A-arrange the contract," Daphne stuttered sadly, "I won't protest."
'That will be a problem," Downey replied clearly nervous, "you see he hasn't been raised in our culture. I doubt he would be receptive to such an offer, unless he already had feelings or at least a fondness for you."
"So what do you expect me to do?" Daphne asked.
"Seduce him," Downey replied.
"Er…" Daphne replied shocked, "what!"
"He's a 15 year old boy, you're an attractive 15 year old girl," it's a match made in heaven," Downey answered cynically.
"How would I even, I would have no clue," Daphne sputtered.
"When I was 15 I fell in love with any girl that looked good enough and liked me in return," Downey replied, "perhaps Potter isn't as desperate as I am, but I don't think it will be that hard. As far as how," he paused, "don't compromise your honor, no man will buy a broom when he can ride it for free."
"Still how can I make a 15 year old want to marry me?"
"Don't try and make him want to marry you," Downey replied, "make him like you, and then make him fond of you, then make him love you. Then at the appropriate juncture I will make the suggestion, and I will be quite persuasive," Downey answered. 'so will your inheritance,' Downey thought to himself, Harry's demand about debt had given Downey the impression that he was in a bad place finically, marrying a wealthy heiress like Daphne was the traditional way to fix such things.
"It's getting rather late," Downey said, "if you want to have any sleep tonight you better head back to Hogwarts now."
"Alright," Daphne replied despondently as she got out of her seat and headed for the door.
"Daphne," said Downey, "I wish this wasn't necessary, I wish it could be done differently, but you know my options."
"I know," Daphne said with a startling lack of emotion in her voice.
"Whatever I might act like at times…" Downey began and then faltered. "However it might seem…" he stopped again. "You are the daughter I never had, and I love you," he finished lamely.
Daphne made no reply as she walked out of the door, and that hurt the Viscount more than he ever thought it would.
A/N So there is the long awaited chapter. The last 3,000 words is what really took me like a month to write, due to some writers block. I was tempted to tack them onto the next chapter but that wouldn't flow right, and I considered dropping the Downey, Daphne scene all together, but I thought it was essential to better develop those two characters, and to show their motivation for future actions.
Another chapter might be out by the end of the week, or maybe the end of next month, or the month after that… sorry you guys know how I am and I really do apologize. please review.