Chapter 10: Perhaps it's Time for a Takeover
Thanks for all the reviews and well wishes. It was just a pinched nerve. Still hurt like the dickens, but not a serious as a herniated disk.
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Amelia was waiting for her next appointment of the day. She had been anxiously waiting for it for days, ever since she sent out the invitation. She had set a trap for this particular person, and it was ready to spring. She was sitting at her desk as normal and the Auror that was playing secretary showed the reporter in. Suddenly, as soon as she crossed the threshold, Rita shrunk to a beetle. The ward that Amelia had set up worked like a charm, pun intended.
"Ah, Ms. Skeeter," Amelia said, going over and picking up the bug and placing it in her hand. "I have been waiting for you," she all but purred as she set the beetle on the chair. She waved the Auror off with a warning look that said to keep this quiet, and then she changed Rita back to a human. "You know," she started casually, "I can have you in Azkaban for many years for this."
"What do you want?" the animagus asked, very fearful for her freedom. She knew she was screwed. This was the head cop after all. That, and she had not been particularly nice to her. Some of the things she had said in her articles had been down right nasty. If not outright lies.
"You have been getting inside scoops and reporting them for a long time now. I don't see the need to change that. However, I want to vet the reports before you publish them," Bones said, going back and sitting in her chair. "I want to collar the criminals before you let them get away with your stories," she said, fixing the leg of her trousers. "You do this, and I can see my way in keeping your secret for the time being," she added.
"If it gets leaked that I was the source of your information, then I'm as good as a dead woman," Rita said, though not overly fearful. She was always cautious anyway. Her stories always put her life on the line. There wasn't a week that went by that she didn't receive at least three death threats. Her animagus form had saved her life more than once.
"I doubt that is new for you," Amelia said as if reading her mind. "You either do this, or I put you in prison for treason," she said, her eyes firm. There were many laws that this woman had broken, but treason would serve the highest sentence.
"Treason? How will you make that stick?" Skeeter asked, trying to think on her past stories that would cause a treason charge. Sure, she had reported about bribes and double dealings and such, but they were all true. She hadn't even needed to embellish.
"You spied on the government, Ms. Skeeter. Whether or not you printed anything, which you did, mind you, you are still a spy. That is treasonous," Amelia said, skirting the truth a bit. She could make it stick though, the Wizengamot would not take it laying down. "I can ply you with Veritaserum, and you will tell me all the dark secrets that you have about all the members of the governing body. I am sure that a foreign government can do the same," she said, selling her threat. It was quite a serious one too.
"So, you just want to see my work before the publisher? You don't want me to write the truth or some such garbage?" Rita asked, hoping that was true. The last thing she needed was to have someone take her Quick Quote Quill away. Her best stories were done from that quill. That would put quite a crimp on her style. She could do it, but her articles wouldn't have quite the same flare.
"Yes, as long as you can tell me if they are really breaking the law, then that's all I want," Amelia stated, knowing that she still had leverage if she needed anything in the future. Blackmail was such a sticky thing, there really never was an end to it. As long as you had the leverage, you had the person by the short and curlies.
"Fine, but I can't be seen coming and going here every day," the bugwoman said, adjusting her glasses. She was not going to be labeled a narc if she could help it. She had a bad enough reputation as it was.
"I'm sure you can find a way to buzz, fly, or crawl in," Amelia said, reminding the woman she had many options. "I am usually here until seven in the evening. Leave your 'report' on my desk and I will review it. If I find anything I can use, I will let you know via a Patronus," she said, waving the woman to depart. She was done with Rita Skeeter for the moment.
"I don't like it," Rita spat as she got up to leave, "but I have little choice," she finished, clutching her handbag. "I would say it's been nice, but…" she trailed off at the withering look she received and went to the door. Bones' voice stopped her from storming out like she wanted to.
"Oh, and if you hang around the ministry for the next few days. I am sure you will get the story of a lifetime," Amelia added, having a feeling that there was going to be a disturbance later this week. She already had her Aurors on high alert. The Wizengamot had gotten no further on the demands of the muggleborn and she knew the kneazles was going to be let loose among the nifflers soon. She didn't relish what was going to happen when that axe was dropped.
"Thank you," Rita said, going out the door with a contemplative look on her face. If she was going to get scoops like that, maybe it might work out after all. She too was thinking about what the old geezers were doing, or not doing as the case was. Maybe she'd write an article about how they were making things worse with their lack of progress.
Amelia deflated, that went a lot better than she thought it would. Rita won't let this go easily, so she was going to have to keep her 'i's' dotted and her 't's' crossed. There would be no room for mess ups. Sure, she had the upper hand right now, but that could change on a sickle. She would remain ever vigilant.
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Starchers was sitting in 10 Downing Street's waiting room for his appointment with the Prime Minister, John Major. He had made this appointment before the meeting with the Wizengamot, as a just in case, and he was glad he had. It had been four days since the meeting, and they were no closer to granting the muggleborn what they wanted. It was time to take this higher up. He knew that the ministry answered to the muggle Prime Minister. So here he was, taking it to the top.
"Mr. Starchers, Mr. Major will see you now," the secretary said, showing him to the door. She was a pleasant person, who had not looked down on him in any way, for all he seemed common folk.
"Thank you," Thomas said, standing, going in and seeing the distinguished grey-haired man behind the large desk. "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Major, sir," he said, holding his hand out and moving forward. He was in awe that the man had made time to see him. He was just a simple man with a grievance.
"The pleasure is mine," the PM said, standing and shaking the man's hand. "I got your urgent message, and can I say thank you for sending it through the proper channels instead of that blasted portrait," he said, glaring at the ostentatious portrait of a man, who was glaring back at him.
"The minister will hear of this," the portrait stated, moving out of its frame. It stood empty, making both the men in the office thankful. That meant they wouldn't be listened upon.
"Don't worry, there is no minister at the moment," Starchers said, knowing that the interim minister was not appointed yet. They were still trying to get Bones to take up the position, but she was fighting it. She wanted to remain where she was.
"How did that come about?" Major asked, waving Thomas to take a seat. He retook his own seat and folded his hands on the desk.
"He was voted out for taking bribes," Thomas said as he sat and crossed his legs. "There is a lot that is happening in the magical world, that I'm sure you've been kept in the dark about. One of those things is why I am here," he said, leaning back in his chair. He was trying to look calm and relaxed. He was anything but, but he was trying.
"I knew that little man was not telling me everything," the PM said, his tone was hard. Fudge was an idiot, and he hated speaking with the nincompoop. "What do you want to tell me?" he asked, taking out a piece of paper and a pen to mark down the important things.
"The muggleborn are protesting for equal rights," Thomas said, then explained all that had happened in the last week and a half. He didn't gloss over anything, he told it straight as it was. Even the threat that he had given the Wizengamot. He hoped he had not overstepped his bounds, and that the Crown would grant them their desire.
"I see where you thought that would be a good idea," Major said, tapping his pen on the desk in thought. "However, you will be faced with the same problem they will. In that, you will not be able to sustain a population with so few numbers," he added, then tapped the pen some more. It was a fact that if they split the wizarding world in half the people would just not add up to a sustainable number. There had to be a way to keep them together and give them all a way of life that they could all live with.
Thomas let him think about it, seeing his point. They would only have half of the Britain's wizards, which where few enough as it was. There had to be a solution to this problem.
John Major then stopped his tapping. He leaned to the side and pressed a button on his phone. "Jessica, get me General Stevenson on the phone," he instructed through the intercom. There was a slight static, but not much.
"Yes, sir," the secretary said, and the line went dead.
"General Stevenson is the head of our magical division of the British Armed Forces," Major said, looking at the confused Starchers. "We get most of the muggleborn when they leave the magical world. For the reasons you specified. They come to the Armed Forces because they are uneducated for anything else. We take them in, educate them and give them purpose. Now, we have an army that can tackle the magicals for times like you are describing."
It was all true, though the numbers weren't as great as one might think. Most of those that left the magical world either joined the Armed Forces, or found another way to make money. When they joined up, they got their education and either stayed on or left when their commission was over. The company was only one hundred-fifty strong. And it was all magical.
"You mean to start a war?" Thomas asked, not sure if that was a good thing or bad. There would be too many dead, which defeated the purpose of keeping them together for the numbers.
"No, I mean to instigate a takeover," the man corrected. His phone rang just then and he picked it up. "George, I need you to come to the office," he said to the person on the other end. "And bring that banker fellow with you," he added. He listened for a moment and then said, "Okay, see you in ten." He hung up and buzzed the secretary for some tea and coffee for four.
"What do you need from me?" Thomas asked, wondering what else was going to happen during this visit.
The secretary came in with a tray for four and started pouring tea for the two men that were there. She handed one to Thomas, who nodded his thanks, and put a cup by Major's elbow.
"Tell me more of what's going on in the wizarding world," Major said, getting out some papers from his desk and started filling them out and stamping them in a few places. "I will talk to the Queen when we are done here. She will want to know what's happening with her magical subjects," he said, showing proper respect in his tone, and continuing to fill out paperwork. He needed to make sure everything was in place for when the general was here. It would make things easier for him.
The next ten minutes were spent going over the state of the magical government, and what the rights of the muggleborn were at this time. Soon enough, General Stevenson and Mr. Finch-Fletchley were shown in.
"You wanted to see me, John?" the major said, taking a seat in one of the available chairs and waving Mr. Finch-Fletchley to do the same.
"Introductions first, George," Major said, doing just that. When he was done, he said, "Mr. Starchers is the leader of the protest in the magical ministry. He gave them one week to comply and they are dithering. I propose that you start attending the protesters as protection. Only magicals and muggleborn's parents for now. Hence, why I invited Mr. Finch-Fletchley here." He had heard of the man, via George, who was a friend his. He had been impressed, but had wondered where the man had gotten a gun from. Then again, the rich were known for doing things that the poor could not.
"I had wondered," Stevenson said, looking at his friend who had remained silent until then.
"I wanted to join the protesters after what my son had gone through at Hogwarts. I feel that your protest will be heard by more people if the parents are there," Mr. Finch-Fletchley said, his tone hard. He was still upset over his son being petrified.
"Wait, you're the one who shot Dumbledore," Thomas said, having gotten the story from Harry. He laughed and shook his head.
"That arse was going to modify my memories to protect a pureblood girl," Mr. Finch-Fletchley stated, slamming his fist on his leg.
"I, for one, am glad that sanctimonious prick got shot, excuse my French," Thomas said, still chuckling and shaking his head.
"Back to the topic at hand, gentlemen," Major said, bringing the attention to him. "I want Stevenson and his company to join you at the ministry. They will guard you against anymore attacks. They will be armed with weapons as well as their wands. They will not be joining the protest. Not while in uniform, that is. If they want to swell your ranks while off duty, that is up to them," he stated, looking to the general.
"I will be more than happy to carry out that order," the man said, though his company was only 150 strong, it was enough to do what needed to be done. They could join the protesters if they wanted, he wasn't going to force them. He might.
"They have three days to comply, then you take over the ministry?" Starchers asked, wanting to make sure he had this right.
"The general will secure the ministry building, and I will send people to take over the government, yes," the PM confirmed, shoving some paperwork the general's way, and having him read and sign them. Even takeovers required paperwork. Everything required paperwork. It was tedious.
"I will tell the other protesters what is going on. I hope it doesn't leak, but I can't leave them in the dark," Thomas said, standing and nodding to the men in the room. They were all powerful men in their own rights.
"My company and I will be there this evening. There will be a squad with you at all times. Warn your people we will be using live rounds," Stevenson said, still signing paperwork. He was happy to be doing something to see the end of the government that shunned him and his people from the world that had taken advantage of them. This would make up for the money and time they had stolen from them. They would never get those back, but future muggleborn wouldn't be wasting either.
"I will," Starchers said, leaving the room after thanking Major one more time.
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As promised the squad of fourteen soldiers showed up with Stevenson in the lead. Usually, he would have a sergeant in charge, but he wanted to set this one up personally. He directed his people where to go and what to do. He was approached by Amelia, once she heard he was there.
"George Stevenson?" she said in a questioning tone, surprised at seeing someone she had not seen since he was a graduate of Hogwarts. He had been a few years ahead of her, but she had admired him when he was there. He had a commanding attitude even then. Now, here he was in uniform. One that she didn't recognize. He looked to be in charge of all the people that were also in uniform, they were obeying his every command.
"Bones?" Stevenson said, squinting to see the little girl that was now a woman. He remembered her as a child that used to ask him questions while in Hogwarts. She had followed him around for a while when she had first came to the school, but quickly found friends her own age. Still, he vaguely remembered her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, indicating the other people in uniform fanned out around the atrium. "Why are you placing people around the ministry?" she inquired, not sure if she should be arresting them or not. They weren't breaking the law, and she did recognize a few from her time in school, though most of them were strangers. They did seem to be carrying wands at their waist, of all places. They had wand holsters on their belts.
"We're here to protect the protestors," he stated, standing at attention, and looking around the room for any enemy action. It was common practice for him. He had seen some action in a war setting, and he never went anywhere without scouting the entire area for enemies.
"That is what my Aurors are for," she protested, waving to her people. Who were staring at the uniformed people with a bit of awe at their situational awareness. They too were standing their ground, not wanting another death to happen on their watch.
"They are hampered by laws and regulations. We are not," he explained, his eyes still roaming the room. "Five people died the last time, because they had to act within the law. We can shoot first and ask questions later," he said, this time his eyes landed on her.
"On whose authority?" she asked, knowing the Wizengamot would never have agreed to this.
"The Crown's," he said, holding out a piece of parchment that had the order on it. "For all you like to think you're not, you are still under the authority of the Crown," he stated, handing her the paperwork, making sure that she received it. It was imperative that someone of authority held that piece of parchment. That way they can't say they weren't told. It was charmed that way. Now it was completely legal.
"The Wizengamot is not going to like this," she said, reading the writ. She was hoping that Rita was hanging around and capturing all this in her beady little mind. This would make quite the story. She continued to read the parchment, her eyes going wide with each word. It said that the Wizengamot had until the time given by Starchers to amend their ways, or the Crown was going to take over and make everyone equal in the eyes of the law. This was their only notice.
"Bugger the Wizengamot. A bunch of old men, liking to believe they are all powerful," George said, his eyes going back to roaming the room. He like to compare them to the House of the Lords, but at least that body listened to the public. The Wizengamot were too stuck in the past to be of any help to anyone but themselves, and they weren't doing themselves any favors right now.
"I'll take a copy of these to the interim minister, Rufus Scrimgeour. He's only there, because they are trying to pin it on me," she said as she made a copy. She tucked the copy in her robes and grumbled as she walked away. She hated the fact that they were trying to make her minister. With the papers in her pocket, she was glad she put up the fight. There was no way she wanted to be in the middle of this mess.
Starchers came up to the general. "So, those were the walking orders?" he asked, watching Bones walk away.
"Yup," was the only answer.
"Is Mr. Finch-Fletchley going to be joining us?" Thomas asked, looking much less tense now that there was the army here to protect them.
"He had to get some things taken care of before he could take the time off," Stevenson said, not feeling much like talking to a civilian.
"Oh," was all he could say to that, and silence fell.
Just then Harry Potter came out of the lifts with Sirius Black in tow. "Guess what, Mr. Starchers," he said, excitedly as he bounced towards the man. He looked happy about something, and he was radiating pure joy. Unlike the man behind him, who was happy, but not overly so.
"What?" Thomas asked, looking at the very thin man behind the almost as thin boy.
"Sirius says that we can protest with you," Harry said, still all but bouncing in place. He had been telling Sirius all about the protests, both here and at Hogwarts. He wanted to rejoin this one and was happy when the man said yes. But only if Sirius was there with him.
"Do you know what you are protesting, Mr. Black?" Thomas asked the man. He had read the story in the paper about how the man had been sent to prison under false accusations and was set free, but he looked dangerous even with is clean cut clothes and hair. That could be from the years of prison though. It made his eyes shifty and his overall demeanor wary.
"Yes, and I agree with your cause. I always have. Plus, I'm sure if Harry's parents were alive, they would be joining you too," Sirius said, conjuring up a sign for Harry to carry. Unlike the normal 'Equal Pay for Equal Jobs' signs, this one was flashing red and gold, and it screamed the words in time with the flashing.
"Sirius," Harry said with exasperation. It had only been a few days and the jokes and pranks were getting old. The man was a born prankster. His time in prison didn't diminish that. Harry liked a good prank as much as the next bloke, but daily pranks were too much.
"What? Don't you want people to see and hear it?" the dogman asked, conjuring his own sign, which was flashier if that was possible. This one sang.
"Yes, but I want people to take me seriously," Harry said and instantly regretted it.
"Of course, they will, I Siriusly did it," the man said, then laughed at his lame joke.
"Merlin," Harry said, and wandered over to some of the people he knew. Maybe they could fix his sign.
"Mr. Black, I am glad you want to join us, but are you well enough?" Thomas asked, not sure if the man was entirely sane. His actions were not those of a rational man.
"I am as well as can be expected," Sirius said, which didn't help ease the minds of those around him. The other two men exchanged looks that spoke volumes.
"Oh," was all Thomas said, then he wandered away to join the others.
"So, uniform huh? What's that about?" Sirius asked Stevenson for lack of anything better to do.
General Stevenson groaned.
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Meanwhile in the Department of Mysteries things weren't going well for a young Tom Riddle.