The Hand Bites Back

A Harry Potter fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon and Others

Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release.


Written with Scriviner and Randolph Carter.


They were in the Weasley kitchen not long after their trip to the ministry. There was planning to be done.

"I swear you are going to wear a hole in the floor." Ginny said with an amused smirk.

"What possessed me to offer to hire out our Aurors to the ministry?!" Draco snarled, running his hands through his blonde hair. "I barely knew what I was doing running a potato chip business, now we're running a... a... an Auror for hire company all of a sudden?"

"Well, you managed pretty well with the chip business," Ginny pointed out, sipping the cocoa in her mug.

Draco stopped pacing long enough to glare at her, "I managed to end up with a destroyed factory and my potatoes stolen out from under me."

"And now we," She made an unsubtle point of emphasizing the word 'we', "Have them back." She held her mug up and added with teasing little cheer, "Yay, us."

"Potatoes we honestly have no use for," Draco grumbled. "I mean we have no factory, no equipment, the owner of the recipe's threatened us if we use it again... I don't even know where our employees ended up running off to..."

"Oh, on that note, Mister Malfoy, we do have everyone's contact information," A smallish girl with dark hair and wearing a black suit strode into the room carrying a clipboard with a quill tucked over one ear. "Including Floo addresses. We can probably get all our personnel, Aurors included, called together inside of an afternoon."

Draco stopped pacing and whirled on her. "Astoria Greengrass? What are you doing here?"

"I owled her on our way back from the Ministry." Ginny replied.

Astoria's gaze towards Ginny turned briefly worshipful before she caught herself and looked back down at the parchment on the clipboard.

"Which I suppose answers 'how' she knew to come here, but let me rephrase then. Why are you here?"

"Mistress Ginny said she needed my help." Astoria replied primly.

"Seriously?" Draco's expression was puzzled as he turned from the younger girl, then turned his full attention on Ginny.

"Look, we do need help getting this set up. Frankly she and Daphne were actually very well organized." Ginny asked Astoria, "Your sister decided not to join us?"

"My sister," Astoria's tones had become clipped and frosty, "After absconding with some of our corporate assets-"

Draco frowned, "Which ones?"

"- a sack of potatoes, Mister Malfoy." Astoria interrupted herself to reply. Her tiny little fists quivered with barely suppressed rage. "She brought them back to our family."

"Oh no." Ginny said softly.

"She stole from me?" Draco thundered.

Ginny shook her head, "That's not important. She actually went back to your family?"

"What do you mean 'not importa'-!" Draco would have continued, but the glare from Ginny silenced him unexpectedly.

Astoria sneered, "She owled me last night and said she managed to buy our family a few months with that sack. That same family that was ready to sell us both like cattle."

"Wait... months?" Draco blinked.

Astoria nodded. "A lot of people have been using them to live on. You can't conjure food, but if you've got an edible base material, you can transmute and expand it into something filling."

Draco snorted, "And it doesn't get much more base than a potato."

"Temporary results, but enough for people to get by on." Astoria continued.

"I thought our employees were reselling the potatoes we paid them with to buy other food." Ginny said.

"Oh, a lot of them do, but a more are using the potatoes as a staple." Astoria explained. "I mean, I saw some transfiguration masters offering to make a feast out of a potato for a share of the resulting food. A lot of people are calling them better than gold, cause at least you can eat them."

Ginny replied carefully, "Paying our people in potatoes is starting to look more and more financially feasible."

"It can't last long." Draco snorted. "This is all well and good, but Galleons are still the real means of exchange. The trading for it will only last for a while, I imagine."

Ginny eyed him, "You really think so?"

"I've listened in on enough of my father's rants about business to know how these work." Draco said with an old, familiar sneer on his face. "And long enough to know how the Goblins work. Mark my words, they aren't going to let potatoes displace the value of the galleons they have on-hand. If anything I imagine they're already working out some way to devalue the burgeoning potato market."

"I don't imagine Goblins would really care about Ministry dictates about the embargo..." Astoria said carefully. "I mean, it's not like anyone's got a way to check anymore. Only a couple of Aurors are actually still working and there just aren't enough to enforce it."

"We're actually possibly going to be doing something about that." Ginny replied.

Astoria's eyes widened, "Really? Is this the new business you were getting into?"

"Yes... and we've just been paid back in our own potatoes," Ginny added with a chuckle.

Draco had resumed pacing and finally said, "Potatoes that I imagine are not going to have a great deal of value for much longer. Not if the Goblins have anything to do with it. And the easiest way for the Goblins to cut the knees out from under the potato would be to buy them cheaply from the muggle world."

Ginny nodded. "Well, yes."

"Except no one's given them any muggle money in all this time?" Draco pointed out. "I mean, I'm sure they must have some muggle money, but most of their work is in Galleons." He added, still pacing. "Negative trade balance on their side right now. All galleons coming in. No muggle money."

"Is there any reason we couldn't sell those potatoes to them for Galleons?" Ginny replied.

Draco frowned in confusion, "What for? We need to get muggle money."

"Not for paying our Aurors we don't." Ginny explained slowly.

"... oh, right."

Astoria brightened up suddenly, "Shall I arrange for an appointment with the goblins, then?"

Ginny nodded, but Draco shook his head, "No, no... no need to deal with the filthy money-grubbing little vermin directly. They'll be using agents to buy up what potatoes they can without attracting attention to the fact that they are."

"Ah. That's actually easier, then." Astoria smiled. "I'll get the word out that Master Malfoy is looking for people buying potatoes."

"Eh?" Draco stared at her.

"Everyone's more than happy to help you, sir." Astoria said cheerily. "After Little Whinging, nearly everyone in Knockturn knows about the brave, good-hearted and generous Master Malfoy."

Ginny laughed openly at that.

Draco coughed, a bit of color coming to his cheeks, "In any case... that's the money side of the equation possibly settled. That still leaves how to actually run a private auror security company. Which none of us have any idea on how to do."

"Oh, hey guys..." Castor said sauntering into the kitchen, a towel around his well-muscled waist and another towel being used to dry his blonde hair, "I couldn't help but overhear. You're running a security company?"

Ginny choked, "Put some clothes on!"

Astoria colored, then immediately stepped forward, putting herself between the half-naked man and Ginny. "Who are you?!" She demanded, trying to shield Ginny from the sight of the man's glisteningly wet and very well-defined and tanned torso.

"Oh, hey, little lady." He said, smiling roguishly down at her, "Castor Tonks. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand, but Astoria simply gave it and his abs an evil glare.

"Clothes?" Ginny sighed, one hand over her eyes.

"Sorry, my clothes are still drying." Castor shrugged negligently. "I really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you were talking a little loud. So... you guys own a mercenary company?"

Draco snorted, "I suppose you could call it that. What of it?" He asked imperiously.

"Well, by weird coincidence, I've actually got some experience in running one. Or at least working for one." Castor grinned. "Want some help?"

Draco blinked, then grinned back. "Let's talk."


Cornelius Fudge was a conniving weasel of a politician, but even he recognized when he was up shite creek without a paddle, as the Muggles said. However, he was also an extremely petty man, and capable of delivering on vengeance within a number of powers available to him as a long time bureaucrat.

At the moment, his target of vengeance was Harry Potter. Always, always with Harry Potter! The boy had helped him so much but his little performance over Little Whinging had shown just how impotent his administration was! Dumbledore had just sat back and laughed: The Potter boy was fighting the good fight despite everything he'd tried to do!

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Looking through obscure rules and regulations was getting him nowhere. He honestly had nothing for it. Robards was about to announce his run for Minister to the public on the new Floo Access Channel-Something whipped up by those Weasleys and that Granger brat-that turned every Floo accessible fireplace into a means of projecting images and sound. That's all he needed-The Weasleys using the latest advance in spellwork to show what a shite minister he was. Incapable of protecting the realm-

He paused on that thought. Fudge slowly turned his head to look at a dusty bookshelf. He waved his wand and summoned a certain tome to him. He blew on the dusty jacket, producing a cloud of particles that made him cough. He flipped through the pages.

Where is it, where is it...? He paused on an entry about the Order of Merlin. He then grinned. This would be perfect! One of several acts he could commit to screw with Britain, and all his enemies! Bloody fools, he'd show them! He'd SHOW THEM ALL!

"Ha... Hahahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Fudge cackled maniacally. His secretary paused at the sound coming from the doors, sighed, and turned around to return to her desk.

Either the Minister was having a fit or he was being killed by a Deatheater. Either way? It wasn't in her job description to care.


Harry Potter's recovery was to the point he could actually go walking around the grounds of Hogwarts without too much supervision. A leisurely broom ride over the pitch helped clear his mind, and he swooped down to watch the ground fly by. He sighed, pulling up to swing lazily around the nearest stand.

He spotted a redhead in the seats, and carefully he flew up just beside her. He grinned-He could put Hermione's plan into action right now.

"Hello Susan," Harry said. The redhead eeped, jumped, and looked over at Harry in shock.

"Oh! Hello Harry!" Susan said, smiling more calmly. "I'm sorry, you just scared me a bit!"

"I didn't think any students were supposed to be here," Harry said. Susan sighed and shrugged.

"Well, after Little Whinging my aunt wanted me somewhere safe... And during the school year I sometimes come out here to think, organize my thoughts," Susan said. She smiled shyly at him. "Care to sit with me? Or will one of your witches be unhappy about that?"

"They've been busy with a new project," Harry admitted, dismounting his broom and sitting next to Susan. "Something with the Weasley twins and Pansy's been helping out. I've actually had some time to myself."

"Oh?" Susan asked with a grin, leaning in. "For yourself... And...?"

"And... Myself?" Harry managed, blinking. Susan sighed, and nodded.

"I completely understand," Susan said. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

"Uh... Sure," Harry said, blinking slightly. "So... What kinds of things do you think about out here?"

"Well, I usually organize various cases I follow," Susan said, producing a scrapbook. She opened it up, and showed several newspaper clippings, photos, and bits of paper. "I want to be an investigator like my aunt! So I've been practicing." She nodded, very seriously, and pointed out a page with a picture of the Patil Twins. "Did you know that the Patil Twins often switch places with each other, and no one is the wiser? Even on dates they will switch partners!"

"Seriously?" Harry asked, blinking. He wondered if that would explain anything to do with how things had gone at the Yule Ball. Or maybe he was just being an idiot back then too.

Susan nodded, very serious indeed. "Seriously! And Tracy Davis started cutting her hair short because she heard Dean Thomas likes short haired girls!"

"Tracy?" Harry asked. Susan nodded.

"Oh yes! And Michael Corner and Cho Chang have been involved in a love triangle over Justin Finch Finchly!"

"You mean Cho's been at the center of the... No?" Harry asked, blinking owlishly at the solemnly nodding Susan. "Huh! How'd you find that out?"

"I have my means," Susan said brightly. "I mean, I did figure out where you were staying, didn't I? And that thing with you, Tonks, Pansy and Hermione." She winked. "I had help from Hannah though! She's always willing to help me on my investigations!"

Harry whistled. He had to admit, that was kind of impressive. And with how Susan and Hannah had handled themselves in the DA and during the battle, he was feeling kindly inclined towards the beautiful Hufflepuff. After all, she was one of Hermione's few female friends. That didn't happen easily.

With how chaotic things were, it might be best to bring her into the group. Ron, Luna, Ginny and Neville were all up to speed. Working together with Pansy and the twins, they'd done some amazing things. And with the Hat... Harry nodded. He didn't know what their group was going to do, but he knew they would need allies. Ones with talent.

"I think we could use you, Susan," Harry said very seriously. Susan blinked. Harry smiled at her. "I mean, with what Pansy and Hermione and I have going on."

Susan blushed brightly. She curled a bit of her hair around a finger, looking aside. "You... You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, you're more than qualified," Harry said. "You're powerful, you're smart, you're connected-And frankly, I think being passive in this thing is just going to make things worse. So I'm going to go on the offensive." He rested his hand on her shoulder. "Put it all on the line, and get things done! And build a real future."

Susan was nearly as red as her hair. "Ah... Oh... I-I see..." Susan cleared her throat. "Well! Um... If you think so... I... I'm willing to try." She frowned. "But what would Tonks say?"

"I think she'll be all right with it," Harry said with a nod, feeling a bit confused. "She's a lot more open minded than you might think."

Susan stared. She covered her mouth, and squealed softly. Harry stared.

"Er, Susan? What's-?"

"S-Sure! Sure!" Susan said brightly. "I um... I just need to tell Hannah!"

"Shouldn't you talk to your aunt?" Harry asked. Susan blinked.

"Ah… Harry, I didn't know you were into that sort of thing-"

"She's the best choice for our plans," Harry said. Susan gawked.

"I… Huh? But she's so old-"

"So? There isn't an age limit on becoming Minister of Magic," Harry said. He frowned and rubbed the back of his head. "Least I don't think there is."

"Oh! You want to make her the Minister!" Susan said quickly. "Oh… I misunderstood. I mean, my aunt is not-"

"She's not the reason we're friends, nor is she the reason I'm seeking you out for this," Harry said. He reached out and took her hand. "You're my friend, and part of this. Brave and beautiful. And I want you to be with us."

Susan very slowly nodded. "So… You want me to talk my aunt into running for Minister, but not to be part of our... "

"Arrangement? No." Harry said, blinking. Susan sighed in relief.

"Good… That was kind of weird."

"How was that kind of weird-" Harry tried, but the redhead held her hands up.

"No! No no no! I mean… What I mean is, I'll be happy to talk to my aunt. And to join with you three."

Harry grinned. "Works just fine for me!"

"Wonderful! This is going to be great!" Susan laughed. "But I think we may need to draw up a schedule… Oh! Ohhh... " She nodded. "I see. That's why you got Hermione!"

"Well, she is the natural choice," Harry said.

"And Pansy?" Asked Susan. Harry colored a bit.

"Well, she's… We've… It's kind of complicated."

"Don't worry," Susan said, squeezing his hand. "I understand. I'm happy to join with you. Oh… This is going to be so much fun!"

Susan smiled and kissed his cheek. "But me? I want to go first!"

She ran off giggling. Harry watched her go, blinking in confusion.

"Did... I miss something...?"


Severus Snape was in a fairly good mood, all things considered. His new estate was bigger than Spinner's End, but required a great deal of work and labor to make into a satisfactory home. He supposed he could sell it if need be, but for the moment he had opened up some of the aged bourbon in the larder and was enjoying a drink in the large, ornate dining room. The manor was the former home of the Gamp family, and had been named Winterfen in its heyday due to the gorgeous scenery it enjoyed during the winter months. In the summer, however, it was a pricey manor on a few dull, gray moors.

Still, the prestige was nice. As was this bourbon, as he sipped a bit more. He sighed at the satisfying burn down his throat, and swirled the ice around in his glass with a bit of a smirk.

His godson had taken things badly. Badly enough Spinner's End was a burned out husk of a home. The insurance money was taking time to be issued, understandably given he'd taken out the policy almost immediately before the Inferi Giant attack-Or, as the Muggle news networks were calling it, the freak storm of Little Whinging. The damage was considerable, and there were calls for more investigations into stopping "global warming" or whatever the Muggles were blaming for strange weather these days. It was as though they had to invent new names for the gods whenever they passed into a new decade.

Not that his own kind were much better, Snape admitted, drinking more bourbon and sighing at the healthy warmth it caused within his veins. He sighed, and continued to stare out at the moors, shadowed by partial cloud cover.

Several bangs and shrieks interrupted his reverie, and he rose with a sigh. He stalked down the ancient halls to the Floo fireplace, where a badly bruised and burnt Peter Pettigrew lay twitching. Snape allowed himself a smirk of satisfaction.

"Wormtail. You did not announce yourself," Snape sneered. Peter groaned, and very slowly got up onto his feet. He glared at him.

"Well you didn't tell me you had burnt down your house!" He growled. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You could have at least called ahead. I may have lowered the defenses-"

"No you wouldn't," Peter huffed. Snape shrugged, acknowledging this.

"That is correct."

Peter sighed, and rubbed his face with both hands. He groaned softly, and looked back at Snape with some disbelief.

"You know... You could stand to be a bit... Kinder, to me," Wormtail said carefully. "I mean, we are-"

"Nothing. Alike," Snape sneered. Wormtail scowled at him, drawing his robes around himself more tightly. He looked as though he was trying to screw up his courage, as he always did.

"I think we have more than enough regrets between us, Severus," Wormtail said. Snape sneered, his grip on his wand tightening. Pettigrew stood his ground though, and Snape managed to calm himself. Killing the rat would just make his life more difficult, and he didn't have the money on hand to create a suitable fascimile to fool the Dark Lord.

Although...

"And you've got that 'How could I kill him and keep it a secret' look on your face, so don't bother," Peter went on. Snape raised an eyebrow, and barely kept his temper in check.

"I believe you were going, Wormtail," Snape replied, barely keeping it to a snarl. Peter smirked, ever so slightly. He held out a piece of paper. Snape summoned it, and read through it, noting that the lines had been printed out by a Muggle computer. Indeed, the Dark Lord was changing, and Snape did not think it bode well.

As he read the paper, he was sure of it. He sighed, and looked up at Pettigrew. "The Dark Lord wants me to begin recruiting every Squib you lot loosed upon the Muggle world? Really?"

"Given how Bellatrix's son," and here Peter hissed the name in obvious jealousy, "is performing as Loremaster, the Dark Lord feels more Muggle scum assets would be good. And given you're half Muggle-"

"Better than all rat, I imagine," Snape said flatly. Wormtail sniffed, his courage rising a bit higher.

"Better than a lonely stag."

Snape unleashed several curses before he even knew he'd let them loose. Pettigrew was slammed against the nearest wall, battered and bruised... But still smirking. Snape took several more deep breaths.

"If you would like to live-"

"Ha! Please... Severus," Pettigrew managed through broken teeth, "I've taken worse... On a good day from the Dark Lord..." He rose, and shook his head. "Your standing has taken... A bit of a drop, in some ways."

"Clearly, if you've found some courage around me," Snape hissed. Peter shrugged.

"I'm just saying... If you want the Dark Lord to take you seriously, you might want to put in some more effort, Snivellus." He smirked a bit at the twitch in Snape's eyes. "And of course... Get to replacing that collection of yours."

Wormtail turned and left, vanishing into the Floo Flames. Snape sighed, taking deep breaths. Old wounds being dragged up by Wormtail? The most pathetic specimen of the Death Eaters? The one he wanted dead almost as much as Voldemort?

This would not do. He scrutinized the list more carefully, and thought.

Recruiting more Squibs would require researching them. He could already recall a few that had achieved a measure of success in the Muggle world, and a few in that border between Magic and Muggle. He allowed himself an almost fond look as he thought of Lucius and Narcissa's eldest son, Castor.

Yes... He would do nicely. Lucius had already spoken with him, but Lucius was all too distant from his children. Snape though? He had ins with such a young man.

Besides, it would make Narcissa happy. And he supposed he rather enjoyed that idea more than he should...


Neville Longbottom had navigated his huge manor since he was a small child. He knew many ways around his grandmother's eyes, all the way to the greenhouse, and the Valyard's hangar deep below. But there was only one destination-So when he walked up to the main catwalk, his grandmother was waiting for him with a stern look on her face.

"I believe the Healers said you were to rest for several weeks, Neville," Augusta said sternly. Neville rubbed the back of his head, but still managed to meet his grandmother's steely gaze.

"I... Yes, but I can at least help with the repairs," Neville said. "I mean..." He sighed. "I did kind of cause a lot of the damage-"

"No. That bitch and Voldemort caused that damage, not you," Augusta said seriously. Neville started, and looked up at her. Augusta allowed herself a smile.

"You fought valiantly, Neville. I could not be more proud," she said. Neville flushed.

"Th-Thank you Grandma... Why didn't you-?"

"You were recovering from injuries, boy!" Augusta tutted. "I told you when you acted like it wasn't something to be proud of!" She shook her head. "Honestly, what do they teach at that school?"

"Not Talos piloting," Neville said. Augusta chuckled, and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"No. Not entirely." Augusta turned to the hulking Talos, and sighed. "So many battles... So many repairs. It's taken this long just to collect all the pieces."

"We can rebuild it though, right Grandmother?" Neville asked with a smile. Augusta nodded.

"Yes... I feel we will need some help though," she said. She smirked. "I hear tell that Arthur Weasley is good with mechanical devices?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah! He is!"

"And the Weasleys do have a daughter, do they not?" Augusta asked further. "An unmarried one?"

Neville flushed. "G-Grandmother! I swear, I didn't know that-!"

"And," Augusta continued further, "If she is not to your liking, I do believe that... Delivery girl you met at St. Mungo's is unmarried?"

Neville flushed, and looked away. "How did you know about-?"

"I do," Augusta said with a huff. "I also know you have not called out for this... Pizza, once." She shook her head and sighed. "Come now Neville, fighting giant monsters and That Bitch cannot be more difficult than placing a Floo call, can it?"

"I... I guess not, Grandmother," Neville admitted. Augusta nodded.

"Good! You will bring the Weasleys here... And order pizza for them." She smirked. "Understood?"

"Yes Grandmother..."


Rufus Scrimgeour was the the only person remaining in the conference room after his team's morning status meeting wrapped up. He set down the last of the reports his staff had delivered earlier, as well as the notes he'd taken during the brief recaps and discussion. Waving his wand, they arranged themselves and gracefully arced through the air into the leather satchel at his side. He stood and looked around the room at the tastefully paneled walls, admired the meticulously polished walnut table before him, and carefully pushed the comfortable (but not TOO plush) leather chair back into place. It had felt... odd... to conduct business in a room that could easily hold 40 people, when only 6 had shown up for the meeting. After closing and warding the door he took a moment to try and gather his racing thoughts. He was distinctly not looking forward to any conversations with Madam Bones, but knew that he needed to speak with her soon. She would return from lunch at 1, and that would barely give him enough time to prepare.

Forcefully blowing out a large enough breath to move the hair on his forehead, the Head of the Auror Office walked down the hallway to his own quarters. He wondered to himself, not for the first time, how the Ministry had been able to create such a vast amount of chaos and disruption in such a short time. Rufus noticed he was again becoming lost in his thoughts, and paused to quickly scan his surroundings - the Ministry's chaos providing perhaps the perfect cover for someone to take action against him. After reassuring himself that nothing was out of place he grimaced as he muttered "constant vigilance" to himself, again wondering if he could persuade his old companion Moody to come out of retirement, and just as quickly remembering the pointed, profanity-laden diatribe the scarred old bastard had unloaded when asked that question two days ago.

He unsealed his office, and after a quick check, put his satchel on the desk and waved his wand to arrange the not inconsiderable pile he needed to read. He sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache building. He felt gritty, and brittle, and the world was too bright and too loud. The pace of the past week was starting to wear on him. He set a clean parchment on the desk, and started making a list of items to discuss with Madam Bones.

He had been at work for a bit when there was a knock on the door. Scrimgeour saw the distinctively bald head and broad shoulders of Kingsley Shacklebolt enter his office before he could answer. The Auror pulled up a chair and sat down rather heavily. He said "Sir. We need to talk." and at the same time Rufus sat up ramrod straight and asked him "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Shacklebolt grunted. "I apologize sir, but I just became aware of a situation that requires your immediate attention. It can't wait."

Scrimgeour sat back. "I suppose this situation is also why you were absent from this morning's status meeting?"

"I asked Proudfoot to cover for me and give the reports. Did he forget to mention that?"

"Yes, or anything else. Auror Proudfoot resigned yesterday."

Shacklebolt's reply was quite pungent. Scrimgeour grimly nodded his agreement. "I said almost the same thing myself yesterday. Unfortunately, if he kept working for us, his family would starve. I told him he would be welcome back once we're out the other side of... all this." Rufus gestured at the stack of reports.

"Sir, I came here directly from Longbottom Manor. Madam Longbottom requested I stop by, ostensibly to check on the progress of repairs to the Talos. Afterward, she introduced me to a guest and asked me if..." The bald Auror trailed off, seemingly searching for the right words to use.

"If?" Prompted Scrimgeour.

"If I would consider serving as Minister of Magic. As a 'transition officeholder'. Madam Longbottom and her guest both offered to support me, since I'm a 'likely lad who can sort all this out and clean up this mess'."

Scrimgeour's face looked like his headache just doubled.

"Merlin's balls! Who was her guest?"

"Madam Prewett. I'm assuming you've had the distinct pleasure of meeting her? Even more presence than Madam Longbottom. I thanked them for their offer, and told them I'd give them an answer today - after I discussed the situation with you and Madam Bones, to see if either of you want the job instead. They offered to support either of you as well. Unconditionally."

Scrimgeour was unable to think of anything to say in response. After he realized his mouth was hanging open, he asked Kingsley "Well, do you want the job?"

"Sir, I don't. But I will take it, if I need to. If nobody else is willing to step up and put a stop to this insanity."

Scrimgeour tilted his head slightly, trying to cover up his total inability to process the last few moments of
conversation. Shacklebolt took this as an invitation to speak more.

"We can't continue like this, sir. I apologize, but you look like death warmed over. Been using pepper-up potions to get through the day?"

Scrimgeour briefly nodded his head in assent.

"Sir, we - all of us that remain - are at the end of our rope. We're fighting a battle we cannot win, with too few resources across far too many targets. And we've been fighting against the chaos, rather than the cause of the chaos. If nothing changes I'm guessing we have another two days before the complete collapse of Wizarding society."

Rufus closed his eyes and raised a hand to forestall any further conversation. After several seconds he again waved his wand at the stack of reports, returning them to his satchel. Picking up the one parchment with the list he had been working on, he slowly stood and fixed Shacklebolt with a stern gaze. He gestured to the bald Auror. "Thank you, Kingsley. For your service, and perseverance, and reminding me of my duty. It is past time we talk to Madam Bones. Shall we?"

The two men strode out of Scrimgeour's office towards the bank of elevators.


Sorry it's been so long since an update. Call this a Christmas present.