Chapter 22

The uproar of the Ministry appointed members was cacophonous to say the least. Shouts and cries flew across the room, mixtures of shock and rage. Some called for her arrest, arrest of the men who'd cast shielding charms, or arrests of whomever they wanted it seemed. Others cried about the injustice of her claim, the loss of voters rights or the instability of their jobs. The heads of Noble houses however seemed to be carefully scheming amongst themselves, the conversation apparently led by Augusta Longbottom and Lucius Malfoy. An odd consensus seemed to be struck between them, given their calm demeanors and several sly smiles of the onlookers.

It was no secret that the rebirth of the Wizard's Council meant they would have even more power to throw around however they liked, and it appeared all of the members, no matter how light or dark they were, appreciated that fact. Hermione was well aware that power did not discriminate between morals, but the positively Slytherin look on Augusta Longbottom's face did not bode well for the continuation of their meeting.

Cornelius Fudge, sat atop the podium, seemed about to vomit, pass out, or both. He appeared positively sickened by this turn of events, clinging tightly to his gavel as if banging it against the table would make all of this go away. She'd always thought him a weak man, given how shallow and easily swayed he was, but she'd never thought him small before. But there, high above the rest of the gathered Wizengamot, in a seat he did not deserve, he seemed miniscule. The sight brought a smile to Hermione's face.

She took a few seconds to breathe, take some deep breaths, and gather her thoughts and her nerves.

'Members of the Wizengamot,' she shouted, calming the raging crowd, 'I don't believe shouting at obscenities at each other is a productive course of action.'

The shouting quieted, though muttering still persisted.

'Rather than deciding the future of the Wizarding World by who can shout the loudest, might I recommend discussion and debate.' Hermione had attempted to remain as calm and collected as she could, but irritation was one of those few things she did not hide well. It was clear to everyone in the room, including herself, that she was not happy. 'You're grown Wizards and Witches, not children fighting over a toy.'

The room finally silenced. She sighed.

'Minister, please continue the session.'

Fudge shook his head sharply, his pained expression returning to one of professionalism. He wasn't happy, clearly, but he was at least willing to pretend he wasn't. 'Lord Malfoy, you have submitted your request to speak and it has been heard. Do you have anything else to add?'

Lucius rose from his seat, making his way calmly to the floor, his head raised proudly as he went. 'The law is not what we need to be debating now, nor the plain meaning of a magically sealed clause. Our efforts should be the continuing smooth operation of the Ministry until a transfer of power can be completed.' He paced until he stood next to Hermione, though he did not step up onto the dias. 'While Miss Stuart, excuse me. While Her Majesty is still underage and attending Hogwarts, a complete transition of power cannot take place. A short discussion has taken place between the Lords and Ladies of the chamber and we have come to a consensus that Her Majesty's coronation should not take place until she at least reaches her majority. Whether she is still attending Hogwarts or not.'

There was some dissent from the Ministry officials, though not nearly as loud as during his past declaration. Fudge raised his hand and the murmuring halted.

'I call upon Lord Macmillan and Lord Fawley to assert the validity of this consensus.'

Two men stood, both seemingly middle aged like most of the Lords on the left side of the room.

'Lord Malfoy is truthful.' The first said.

'I concur.'

'Lord Malfoy, do you have any proposition about the functioning of our Government until those requirements are met?' He asked.

Mr Malfoy smiled demurely, though Hermione could see the bite in his eyes. 'Those decisions will not be up to me, Minister. Despite my earlier recommendations, Hermione Stuart is our ruler, with or without a coronation.'

Fudge frowned deeply. 'I am still not satisfied with her claim to the throne. While entering this chamber and shaking the walls of the building may be compelling arguments, we have no way to concretely prove her claims.'

'I will gladly prove my lineage.' Hermione smiled. 'Would a display of my family magic be enough to satisfy your doubts?'

Fudge stuttered a little. 'That would hardly be necessary.'

'Oh I disagree, Minister.' Hermione spoke, as earnestly as she could manage without her own devilish grin crossing her face. 'Simply name a man or woman you're willing to test such powers on and I will acquiesce.'

'Nobody shall lose their magic today, Miss Stuart.' Fudge narrowed his eyes.

'Then perhaps we should move past denials and get to business.' Mr Malfoy spoke deeply, his own tiredness with the Minister briefly flashing across his face.

Fudge looked defeated, slumping back in his chair. 'Would any of our Ministry representatives like to speak on this?'

Umbridge stood, a shrill fake cough piercing the room. 'While Miss Granger appears to be an intelligent young lady, I haven't seen that same dedication in my classroom. She simply refuses to apply herself. Surely our ruler should be well versed in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps she isn't very magically gifted, another bad trait for our ruler to have.'

'Professor, if you want to tell blatant lies in this chamber you could at least refer to me properly.' Hermione frowned.

'Do you have any way to refute her statements, Miss Stuart?' Fudge asked.

Hermione stared down the Minister, her eyes cold and hard. 'As any of my Professors would attest, since my First Year, I have held the highest test results in all of my classes, including Defense Against the Dark Arts. Even including Potions, a subject heavily weighted in favour of Slytherin students. Professor Umbridge's classes, as you are well aware Mr Fudge, disclude the casting of spells. We merely sit for an hour and read a book in silence. Perhaps Professor Umbridge could actually see my spellcasting abilities before judging them.'

'Surely that's an exaggeration, Miss Stuart.'

'Surely you're aware of the way Hogwarts is operating, illegal punishments and all.' Hermione bit back. 'The whole point of the Ministry appointing Professor Umbridge was to have a better understanding about the school's functioning, so either you're lying to yourself or me, and both are clear signs that you are an incompetent Minister.'

'Personal attacks are not how these meetings run, Miss Stuart.' Fudge sneered.

'If I am to understand the functioning of these meetings from my experience here, then the Ministry has no obligation of substantiating any claim, no obligation of following through any legislations, promises, nor investigations, no obligation to be truthful or ethical in its dealings.' Hermione pulled in a deep breath, willing the bubbling anger to subside. 'I have proved over and over that my claim is legitimate, yet you refuse to see the evidence before you. I have been insulted no less than six times in the last hour by yourself and your Senior Undersecretary, with no protest from you about the impoliteness.

'Not just on your watch but possibly under your guidance, Professor Umbridge has used blood quills, a dark magical object, as punishment during detentions. Such punishments are illegal, as is the use of magic involving blood against another Witch or Wizard. I can count at least three laws off the top of my head that she's broken, and when such claims are levied there is no effort to investigate, but to accuse me of lying. Harry Potter has '"I must not tell lies" etched into the back of his hand because of her. I'm certain we can all agree that whether he was indeed lying or not, the use of dark magic as a school punishment far outweighs the crime.'

Umbridge stood, her face red and her hands shaking as whispers spread around her. 'Such accusations are serious, Miss Granger. Surely you wouldn't lie before the entire Wizengamot simply because I have tried to impress upon your friend that lying and fear mongering is wrong.'

Hermione plastered on her sweetest smile. 'I suppose I'll simply have to substantiate all of my claims.' She turned to the dias and took the globe in her hand. 'I summon Harry James Potter to this council.'

In a flash of blinding light and a violent crack, Harry appeared before her desperately confused as he took in his surroundings. 'I'm in my pyjamas.' He whispered.

'Sorry.' Hermione whispered back. 'But I need your help.'

'Surely such an act of summoning is unethical, Miss Stuart.' Fudge protested, standing from his chair.

'So is torturing children.' Hermione spat back. 'Harry, if you'd show the Wizengamot your left hand please.'

Harry shifted nervously, cupping his hand. 'I told you it wasn't a big deal, Hermione.' He shook his head.

'And I told you that keeping it quiet was a bad idea.' Hermione frowned. 'Now show them your damn hand so I can get this over with.'

Harry pouted but stepped toward the benches, his hand outstretched.

Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd as he slowly paced around the room, feeling more and more uncomfortable with each step. By the time he'd made it back around to Hermione his head was hung low and his shoulders hunched.

'I'm sorry, Harry.' She said again, taking his hand in hers. 'I don't want to have to use people like this.'

Harry shrugged. 'Some warning next time would be nice. I wouldn't have to show up in Canons pyjamas.'

'I'll make it up to you.' She promised, giving his hand a squeeze before dropping it. She turned to address the Wizengamot. 'I have been preparing a Murtlap Essence solution to treat his pain, but the wound is healing incredibly slowly. This was done to him our first week of term.'

Fudge seemed conflicted, his hand at his chin, his eyes darting about the room restlessly. 'Can you prove that Umbridge was the one who did this?' He said tiredly.

'I believe a quick search of her office would provide you with all of the evidence you will need.' Hermione shook her head. 'If you'd like to prove the incompetence of your cabinet further, I could do the entire investigation for you.'

Fudge sighed defeated. 'That won't be necessary.' He took a quill and scribbled on a piece of parchment. 'Mr Potter, if you'd be so kind as to take this to one of the Aurors outside and wait there until our meeting is adjourned.'

The parchment got passed down rows of officials until it reached Harry, who sheepishly reached out for it and scrambled out of the chamber. The doors opened with a dull creak and closed with a heavy slam. Shortly after, two Aurors entered and approached Umbridge.

'What are you doing?!' She shrieked, kicking and screaming as they took hold of her arms. 'I am Senior Undersecretary Delores Jane Umbridge!' Her pleas and cries continued as she was removed from the chamber. With each passing moment Fudge seemed to melt into his chair.

'Are we done now, Mr Fudge?' Hermione asked tiredly.

'The floor is yours, Your Majesty.' He sighed.

'First, no decisions will be made immediately. It's Christmas Eve after all. I'm sure none of us want to spend all night discussing the finer points of running a country.' She chuckled to herself. 'We can reconvene in the New Year. Until then, I propose,' Hermione stepped forward, 'that the Ministry operate in the same way it did before today until another session can be called. That way proposed legislation and functions can be put forward properly. After all, you are missing several members. One in St Mungo's and one currently wrongly accused of mass murder.'

'Sirius Black does not hold a seat on the Wizengamot.' Fudge spoke, holding the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

'He is the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and this isn't the Wizengamot.' Hermione shook her head. 'This is the Wizard's Council.'