Irritants, Problems, and Issues

Note: For the purposes of this fic, Augusta Longbottom is not Neville's grandmother, but his great-grandmother.

(_)(_)(_)

1946

The Marauders swung into gear immediately after their little conference. By the new year, the plan was already bearing some fruit. Several families with close ties to the triad were expressing interest in joining forces.

In the early weeks of 1946, they were even awarded Orders of Merlin (second class) for their actions in the war. While their reputations hadn't exactly been suffering, this did all three of them a world of good in the eyes of the general public. The problem was, they weren't the only one to get an Order of Merlin. Dumbledore got one too, First Class, for defeating Grindelwald.

Septimus wouldn't have begrudged Dumbledore the award if something about the man hadn't been sounding a quiet alarm. Septimus couldn't put his finger on what was bothering him, either – but something was. He could only hope that he simply had an overdeveloped sense of paranoia thanks to surviving the war and that there wasn't really anything to be worried about. But every time he thought of that, he remembered Dumbledore chastising Charlus for punishing troublemakers, and the alarm sounded all over again.

It was rapidly becoming clear to the Marauders that the Wizengamot was polarizing in a way it hadn't in living memory. Oh, there had always been extremists on both sides of the political divide but they had been a vocal minority. The bulk of the Wizengamot had always fallen somewhere in the middle between the two extremes.

That middle ground was slowly disappearing. More and more families were beginning to align with one or the other extremist camp. This trend had apparently begun during the war, according to the Marauders' family Heads. Worryingly, the Heads suspected that the folks taking sides were doing so under undue pressure, especially from the Dark extremists. It was more than a little disturbing to see. Even worse, thanks to the two extremes gaining supporters, the Wizengamot, which had always contentious at the best of times, at least according to their fathers, was becoming a battlefield.

After doing a considerable amount of information gathering, and quite a number of conferences between themselves to adjust and fine-tune their plans, they were ready to start. Due to a number of factors, it had been decided that Septimus would be the first to approach his father about 'retiring' early. Septimus approached his father in mid-March.

"In truth, I would not mind stepping down early, son." Gaius told him when Septimus had explained what the Marauders were up to and hoping to accomplish. "You're better suited to all that nonsense than I am, and being able to spend our twilight years together without having to deal with Wizengamot shenaniganry has its appeal for your mother and I." Gaius gave Septimus a pleased smile. "It helps that I think you can manage what I and our forbearers haven't, and bring the Weasley Family back into prominence." Then he cocked an eyebrow. "I assume Harfang and Charlus are having this discussion with Lords Potter and Longbottom?"

Septimus nodded. "I know Harfang's father is not enjoying the best health, so he might be willing to step down as Head right away. It's Lord Potter that is going to take some convincing." Lord Potter enjoyed robust health ... and was stubborn enough to dig his heels in unless approached just right.

Harfang did indeed speak to his own father, who had readily agreed to the changeover due to his ill health. Unfortunately, about a month later, before he was able to complete whatever business he'd had outstanding, Harfang's father's health took a sudden turn for the worse. A week later, he died in his sleep. His death temporarily threw a wrench into the works.

Harfang's mother, Augusta, took her husband's death very hard. Theirs had been a love match, despite the custom at the time they'd gotten married for arranged marriages. There for a few months, there was an honest concern that Augusta would follow him in death, such was her grief. As a result, Harfang refused to leave her unattended until she stabilized somewhat emotionally.

The Marauders closed ranks around Harfang and Augusta, doing their level best to support them and help them through Lord Longbottom's death. Jinx was a near-constant presence in Longbottom Manor for weeks, taking up the slack left by the grieving house-elves until they got their feet back under them.

Harfang took his place as Head of the Family the day of the funeral. All three couples dearly wished that the start of their triad coming into the Wizengamot could have happened under much better circumstances.

The one piece of good news was that Harfang taking up the Head of Family mantle put paid to the triad's Auror careers. Harfang and Septimus both were exceedingly grateful for that. Neither of them would have minded continuing their careers for quite a while longer … but Charlus simply couldn't.

During the war, Charlus had been hit by a spell that had blown a massive hole in hip and leg. He'd nearly bled to death on the field that day – would have, if the Marauders hadn't had every healing potion they were capable of brewing on hand. He'd come to within a whisker of losing the leg, as well. He'd healed quite well, given the severity of his injury. Unfortunately, he was left with a permanent limp and pain – the degree of both Harfang and Septimus were *quite* sure Charlus had underplayed during the war in order to put their minds at ease.

He'd kept up during the war, but both Harfang and Septimus had seen how much it took out of him to do so. They'd done everything in their power to ensure that he wasn't required to run, and both men had slowed their own walking paces to allow Charlus to keep pace with them more easily.

When they'd returned to England, the Auror Corps had understandably wanted them back. Harfang and Septimus had stalled and delayed as best they could, claiming a need for rest, and time to reconnect with their families while they tried to talk Charlus out of trying to continue as an Auror. Unfortunately, the Potters were well known for having a stubborn streak a mile wide. Charlus had been determined to continue as an Auror because he felt the three of them would be needed in the corps. The worst part was that he hadn't exactly been wrong about that.

Now, there really wasn't a choice in the matter. With one of their third permanently out of commission due to his duties as Head of a Family, Septimus and Charlus would have been re-routed to desk jobs until and unless they managed to compensate sufficiently for the loss of their fighting partner. After better than half a lifetime of working as a triad, it was highly unlikely they'd have been able to adapt to a more normal two-person partnership. Neither Septimus nor Charlus much fancied spending the next however long stuck behind a desk filling out paperwork. Charlus finally stopped insisting he was able for Auror work, and they told the Head Auror they wouldn't be returning.

Instead, they turned their attention and energy to bolstering Harfang. He had always been the quietest of their triad, content to let Septimus and Charlus garner the lion's share of attention. Having to step forward now and be heard presented him with a difficult challenge. Especially since neither Charlus nor Septimus were in the Wizengamot, and thus unavailable to be leaned on for support.

Charlus and Septimus spent a lot of time in the last half of the year coaching Harfang. Helping him memorize what he intended to say about whatever piece of legislation was up for voting, letting him practice the speech on them until he was comfortable with it and such things. They also helped him tailor arguments to various members of the Wizengamot that might object to legislation Harfang was in favor of, and coached him on how to stand, walk, sit so he projected an aura of confidence even when he felt nothing of the kind. By the end of December, Harfang was finally finding his feet and was able to handle more and more of the Wizengamot shenanigans without Charlus and Septimus' backup outside of the sessions.

At that point, Septimus was able to pay more attention to the various Wizengamot members with an eye towards what they were up to long-term, rather than dealing with what they were up to today that Harfang would need to deal with.

It was slightly disconcerting. He was both amused and disturbed to see Dumbledore doing much the same sort of thing the Marauders were – parlaying his popularity and influence thanks to his actions in the war into political power. Headmaster Dippet had started making noises about possibly retiring, from what Septimus had heard (third hand, so he didn't quite trust those rumors), but it was certain that Dumbledore was trying to form a voting block of his own. He was almost never seen without the phoenix he'd returned from the war with on his shoulder. Septimus had to admit it was a brilliant bit of psychological warfare. Everyone in the Wizarding world knew that phoenixes didn't associate with people who weren't Light as it was humanly possible to be. That Dumbledore now had Fawkes as a companion was drawing a lot of people to his side. It was also giving his opinions and such a lot more weight than they otherwise would have had. The net result was that Dumbledore was slowly, sneakily working his way into a position of leadership for the 'Light' camp in the Wizengamot.

Given what he knew of Dumbledore from his school days, Septimus couldn't quite help but wonder if Dumbledore had somehow managed to coerce Fawkes. It might be possible. Septimus had no idea how much truth there was in the old belief that phoenixes had to return to where their ashes were in order to go through their burning day … but if that was true, all it would take for Dumbledore to force the creature into his company would have been to stumble across the phoenix's nest and steal the ashes. Maybe keep it in his pocket to ensure the creature stayed close. It was also possible there might be other ways to coerce a phoenix. Light and extremely powerful they might be, but they weren't invulnerable.

Septimus frequently scolded himself for thinking along those lines. No, he was not a fan of Dumbledore's, but to seriously consider that the man was coercing a phoenix? That was a bit much. The man was a canny politician, that much was for certain, and a bit shady, but that was a bit of a stretch.

What was truly worrying was that Abraxas' father was emerging as the leader of the pureblood extremist set. Abraxas might be a stubborn fool (at least when it had come to Cedrella), but his father had more wits about him, and enough political savvy to be worrisome. He was also power-hungry, wanting to bring the Malfoy name into the same circle as the Blacks, Potters, and Longbottoms (among a few others).

In that, at least, he was mostly foredoomed to failure. It would be at least another hundred years – probably a lot more than that – before the Malfoys were accepted as a member of the Wizarding elite. Heck, the LeStranges, also from France, but who had emigrated to the UK quite a bit before the Malfoys had, still hadn't managed to enter that circle. And the LeStranges didn't throw money around like it would solve all their problems, which the Malfoys had a tendency to do.

Unfortunately, while the Malfoys would not be joining the elites in Abraxas' lifetime, they did enjoy a growing amount of political power that was worrying Septimus. Abraxas' father had the sort of gilded tongue that swayed people to his way of thinking with relative ease, and he was using it ruthlessly. Many of the extremist and Dark-leaning neutral families were either beginning to follow his banner or listen to what he had to say.

All in all, Septimus couldn't quite shake the mental impression that they were headed for the edge of a cliff, and if they didn't put on the brakes, they were going to end up in a world and a half of trouble. Unfortunately, he couldn't even begin to figure out how to apply those breaks. Worse, neither could Cedrella.

Septimus had talked to her extensively. While she didn't quite share his paranoia as regarded Dumbledore, she agreed completely with his assessment of the rest of the situation that was developing, and did express concern over Dumbledore's increasing popularity. Unfortunately, not even she, with all her political savvy, could figure out how to keep things from going the way they seemed to be heading.