Rachel sat quietly while the Wizengamot debated. Professor Dumbledore had offered a proposal regarding enhanced protections for muggles and harsher sentences for those who harmed muggles. The Wizengamot had spent the last six hours tearing it to pieces and Rachel was beginning to suspect that they wouldn't even get to vote on it today. According to Booker the meeting would end at five o'clock regardless of where they were in the process and then they would pick up the topic at the next meeting. Rachel thought that was an excellent way to let the Wizengamot not do anything at all.
Sirius had stood and spoken in favor of the plan, as had Ethan Davies, Linette Thompson, Janice Hawthorne, and a number of other people. Rachel had stood and spoke very briefly on the necessity for protecting muggles and cited that they didn't even know how many muggles died in the war, from an enemy many of them had never even heard of. Professor Dumbledore had nodded to her when Rachel sat down. Speaking had been a little nerve wracking, but this was important enough that Rachel felt she needed to do it.
The usual people spoke in opposition, and some people who Rachel wasn't aware felt that way. Apparently people could be against Death Eaters but still not think all that much of muggles. She supposed that wasn't terribly surprising. Severus had warned her that many people were on the Wizengamot out of their own self interest.
Rachel suppressed a yawn. She hadn't been sleeping well, which wasn't unusual for her, but she'd been woken up every night for the past four nights with nightmares about the spell for the portrait.
She was fully willing to acknowledge that it was her fault this had happened. She woke in the night feeling like that spell was clinging to her skin and then sinking down inside of her. It amazed her that other people could have that spell cast on them and feel nothing at all - it seemed like an incredibly invasive spell. She was hoping the nightmares would stop soon, but for the meantime she simply promised herself that she'd never let it happen again and that she hadn't really known what it would feel like when she'd agreed to do it. She also hadn't told anyone about it; it was embarrassing and she didn't want to admit to anyone what had happened. Besides, the artist doing the portrait hadn't done anything wrong, and she didn't want to raise a fuss.
Rachel had also spent the day looking out the corner of her eye at the person sitting to her right. According to her name plate, her name was Anyssa Selwyn and she was joining the Wizengamot for the first time since Alfred Selwyn's imprisonment. Rachel remembered Madam Bones' warning that the Selwyns were now her enemies, so she was trying to be cautious.
So far, Anyssa hadn't spoken during the meeting. She was sitting quietly and watching the debate as she looked around. Anyssa was younger than Rachel was expecting, given how big she'd been told the Selwyn family was. She looked to be maybe in her mid-twenties. She sat tall, maybe as tall as Millie, and she wore her long blond hair back in a high ponytail.
Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, Professor Dumbledore called a meeting to a close, indicating they'd have another meeting in December to finish the debate and to vote on the individual sections of the proposal. Rachel suspected that Professor Dumbledore and his faction would be working behind the scenes to meet with the rest of the Wizengamot before the vote. Politics was a little depressing.
"Well that was disappointing."
Rachel turned and found Anyssa looking at her.
"Don't you think?" Anyssa asked.
"A little bit," Rachel said, though she wasn't sure if what she found disappointing was what Anyssa found disappointing. Rachel found the fact that people couldn't even agree on the idea that magical people should be stopped from hurting muggles to be very disappointing. She also found the way that the Wizengamot was conducted to be disappointing. For the most part, it just seemed like people liked to hear themselves speak.
"I'm Anyssa, by the way, in case you haven't gathered that from my name plate. You sent my father to prison." Anyssa was looking directly at Rachel, her eyebrows raised as she waited.
"I'm sorry about that," Rachel said, not sure what else to say.
"Don't be, it's no great loss. Our family has needed new leadership for decades now. Father and mother are set back in the old ways. Tell me, how can a family stay relevant and stay in power if they don't change with the times?"
Rachel thought Anyssa was a lot less broken up about her father being sent to prison than Pansy was about her mother. "I don't know. It's never really been a concern for me," Rachel said, wishing she had some sort of idea how she was supposed to talk to people on the Wizengamot. She never knew what the right thing to say was.
Anyssa smiled, but it was closer to a smirk. "Well, not all of us can go around killing dark lords to gain power. Most of us have to work through more conventional means."
Rachel looked up as she saw movement coming toward them and found Draco and Neville approaching.
Anyssa turned at the movement. "Ah, Draco. It's been a while."
"It has," Draco said, only on the bare edge of politeness as he looked at Anyssa with a gaze that was both assessing and disapproving.
"And Neville, isn't it? I knew your grandmother. Your grandmother and my mother had tea fairly often. I'm sorry for the loss of your family," Anyssa said.
"Thank you," Neville said quietly, looking briefly at Anyssa before looking at Rachel. "We have dinner arranged soon."
Rachel recognized that she was being rescued as it was still an hour and a half before dinner time. "Thank you. It was nice meeting you, Anyssa. I hope you have a good evening."
Anyssa looked at the three of them, her gaze assessing now. "Yes, you as well."
They left the chamber, leaving Anyssa behind. Draco looked behind them multiple times to see if they were being followed. "Let's step in my office for a moment," he said quietly.
Inside Draco's office there was a portrait of an older woman, with her long blond hair going white. "How was the meeting, Draco?" she asked, looking down at the three of them.
"Long. People are assholes," Draco said.
She only inclined her head. "That is the Wizengamot for you."
Draco turned back to Rachel and Neville. "Don't trust Anyssa. I have known her since I was a child and she is vile."
"She is?" Rachel asked, a little surprised. Anyssa had seemed friendly enough to her. "You don't think she was involved with the Death Eaters, do you?"
"No. Her mother never would have stood for it. If any of the main Selwyn branch was involved in the Death Eaters, it was Anyssa's brother, Aaron. He was supposed to be the one to take the Selwyn seat, which leads me to ask, why is Anyssa here?" Draco asked.
"People would have been suspicious of Aaron," Neville said.
Draco started nodding. "No one would believe that Anyssa was involved with the Death Eaters, but there would have been rumors about Aaron. They must have wanted to make a clean break. Aaron must be fuming right now."
"You both know them?" Rachel asked.
"In passing. There are certain Wizengamot events where Wizengamot members bring their families. We've grown up seeing Anyssa and Aaron at events from the time we were old enough to attend. Aaron is about five years older than us, Anyssa is seven years older, she would have just left Hogwarts the year we arrived," Neville explained.
"Like I said, Anyssa is vile. Once she shoved me down in a back room and sat on me. I was six!" Draco said.
"Wow," Rachel said, not sure what else to say to that. She felt a strange longing. If she had grown up with her parents, she would have grown up attending Wizengamot events with Neville and Draco. Maybe she would know what to say to people on the Wizengamot, or at least know what they expected her to say. Then again, if her dad was alive, she wouldn't even be taking the Snow Wizengamot seat right now.
"Why do I have a hard time imagining anyone bullying you?" Neville said, looking at Draco with a small smile.
"Don't worry. I got revenge. The next dinner I dumped a full shaker of salt onto her plate and she got in trouble for fussing over her food," Draco said.
Rachel couldn't help but smile. Kids were still kids, even if they were in Wizengamot families.
"Alright, just keep your guard up around her. She obviously wants something if she's making nice with you," Draco said.
"She wants power. She pretty much said as much," Rachel said.
"And if she allies with Rachel, that will lessen the rumors about the Selwyns and make it seem like it was just Alfred who was a Death Eater," Neville pointed out.
Draco nodded. "Use her at least as much as she uses you. More if you can help it. Now, let's go home. I want to be as far away from the Wizengamot as I can manage."
"Agreed," Rachel said. She was done with Wizengamot stuff until Monday afternoon at the earliest.
Rachel was a little overwhelmed when she arrived at the auditorium on the seventh level of the Ministry. The place was huge. Even knowing about magical space, her mind was insisting that the other levels of the Ministry couldn't exist around this. It was three stories tall, had balconies around the room, and there was a large stage in front. A quick rough grouping of seats told her it could seat at least a thousand people.
"What is this usually used for?" Hermione asked as she looked around.
"Ministry wide meetings are held here once a month. Sometimes they hold plays here, award ceremonies, and concerts. Pretty much any large gathering that is too classy to be held in a stadium," Draco said.
Rachel took another look around, noting there were many people here in blue MLE robes. "Where did we say we were meeting Severus and the others?"
"Left back. Shouldn't be too hard to find the Weasleys, even in this," Theo said.
They headed in that direction and Rachel was relieved when she saw Severus standing near Sirius and Remus. The Weasleys were nearby, as was Luna and her father, and a number of other Hogwarts teachers.
The only good thing about the crowd was that there were too many people for her to be noticeable. She hunched her shoulders and stuck close to Theo. She wished Millie was with them, but Millie had decided to sit with her parents away from the rest of the group to avoid a potentially awkward situation.
Greetings mostly involved everyone speaking over each other and Rachel made her way to Severus' side and just smiled and nodded at people. Even though they were all people she knew, being surrounded by this many people and this much noise was making her feel a little closed in. It would be better once everyone was seated quietly.
"Rachel, how are you?" Gemma asked.
"Good," Rachel said, which was about half of a lie. "How are you? How is being Head of House?"
"Oh, busy, but good. I'm filling some really big shoes. I'd like you to know that most of my fourth through seventh years now have a non-corporeal Patronus."
Rachel smiled in earnest that time. "That's wonderful. I'm so glad it's working."
"I am as well. I trust the Slytherins are at least mostly behaving themselves for you," Severus said.
Gemma laughed. "I don't know about that. I don't quite have the intimidation factor that you had. The students seem to be adjusting though and after the first few month long detentions, people started to realize I was serious."
"I also found that to be an effective punishment, less for the person I was assigning it to, and more for everyone else who did not wish to spend a month in detention," Severus said.
Rachel looked up at him. "Is that why you did that?"
He nodded. "In general, only for the things I wanted it to be made absolutely clear that I wouldn't tolerate. If I assigned it for everything it would have no meaning and I would never have an evening to myself."
"But people didn't know why people got detentions for the most part," she pointed out.
"Oh, most of them do. The teachers don't have to announce it, the rumor mill works perfectly fine," Gemma said with a smile.
"I would say that it's even more effective than announcing it," he agreed.
Rachel shook her head. "I'm so glad I'm not a teacher."
"No, you're an auror. How did that happen?" Gemma asked.
Rachel blushed. "It just seemed like the right thing to do." She caught Severus rolling his eyes. "Well it was. And it has been fine. If anything, I've learned more about defending myself, and all of the attacks we've been to have been far less threatening than what I faced while I was at Hogwarts."
Severus ran his hand over his mouth. "Which I would say only goes to show how bad things were at Hogwarts. Has the castle settled since the war?" he asked Gemma.
"For the most part things are back to normal. The kids in the DA held a private memorial during their first meeting. The new teachers are fitting in alright, but the students are very aware of why they were needed. I'm not sure we did them a favor sending them home directly after the battle. I know it was necessary, but some of the older ones, especially those who lost classmates are struggling a little," Gemma explained.
Rachel was relieved again that she wasn't required to go back to Hogwarts this year. She didn't envy Ginny and Luna in the slightest.
"Please be seated and we'll begin the ceremony," someone announced.
"Catch up with me later," Gemma said to Rachel.
"I will," Rachel said, hoping that she would have the opportunity.
She took a seat in between Severus and Neville and found Draco, Theo, and Hermione next to Neville and Sirius and Remus on the far side.
Once the room was somewhat quieter, Minister Scrimgeour approached the front of the stage. "Thank you for joining us here today to honor those who fought against the Death Eaters. We will begin with the posthumous awards, which will be collected by a family member of the deceased. Please save your applause for the end."
The room was now mostly silent except for the general shuffling and breathing that came with a room packed with people. Rachel watched as the listing of the names began, along with what class of award they were receiving. In general, people received third class, though for a few the Minister recounted a particularly heroic act and awarded them second class.
Professor McGonagall was the one who accepted Colin Creevey's award, which made Rachel again wonder what had happened to Dennis. Even if Dennis' parents couldn't be here, Dennis should have been notified. She resolved to ask Professor McGonagall later and find out if there was anything she could do about the situation.
About an hour later, the first part of the ceremony finished. "If we could have a lighting of wands and a moment of silence, for all of those we have lost in the war."
Everyone stood and held their wands in the air. In the dim light, Rachel couldn't help but be reminded of her time Looking through space and all of the little soul lights that she'd seen. Each person here was someone who had survived. Yes, they'd lost many people. But surviving was important too. It said something that all of these people could face Death Eaters and come out the other side and continue to live their lives. Maybe that's what the Minister meant by rebuilding. It wasn't so much that they needed to fix things that were broken, it was that they needed to come together and continue to push their society forward.
"Thank you," the Minister said. "We'll now begin with the second class awards. Again, please save your applause for the end."
Rachel watched as several aurors, including Tonks and Shacklebolt, who had saved floors of people from being attacked were awarded. They had acted as a group to disable the lifts and then stop the Death Eaters from traveling beyond the first four levels of the Ministry. Two Healers and two members of the MLE Patrol were also given second class awards for standing in defense of rooms full of helpless patients.
"Thank you again," the Minister said once the applause had finished. "And now for the third class awards. There is a good number of people we're honoring today, so we'll ask that they move to the front of the auditorium at this time. Again, please save your applause."
"Wait for me here," Severus told her.
"I will," Rachel said. She had no intention of going out into the crowd.
She was left sitting with Mrs. Weasley and the families of some of the other students and Order members who had fought at Hogwarts.
The Minister announced names and one by one people went to the stage to be awarded. There were probably close to a hundred people being given the Order of Merlin, third class, and she suspected it was just about everyone who had fought that Sunday.
Slowly her friends and Severus returned to her, each bearing a white ribbon with a gold metal starburst with an M on it hanging from the end.
"Let us applaud all of our valiant heroes one last time today," the Minister said.
The room was filled with applause and Rachel glanced at Severus and found him looking somber. Perhaps he was thinking of the people who should be here but weren't.
The Minister dismissed the room and the volume rose as people began talking again.
"I'll be right back," she told Severus as she stood. She went down the aisle to where the other professors were gathered. "Professor McGonagall."
"Ah, yes. Rachel. How are you?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Good. How are you?" Rachel asked, though she was impatient to get to her point.
"Well enough," Professor McGonagall said.
"Ma'am, do you know where Dennis Creevey is?" Rachel asked.
Professor McGonagall shook her head slightly. "I brought Dennis home to his family that Monday and told them what had happened. When I sent book lists in August, I received a notice of withdrawal in return. When I went to their home to try and convince them that Dennis needed to continue his education, I found the house empty, as I did every subsequent time that I returned."
Rachel frowned. "Do you think Dennis is in danger?"
"No, I do not. I think his parents wish to protect him, and perhaps Dennis himself did not wish to return. The last letter I sent I made it clear that Dennis' option to return to us was open. I'm hoping time may help them reconsider," Professor McGonagall said, looking sad.
"Can I do anything to help?" she asked.
"I do not think so. They lost a child to a war they cannot understand. I think their response is perhaps reasonable, no matter how regrettable it is."
Rachel nodded, wanting to do more to help, but also recognizing that her pushing her nose in probably wouldn't make things better. Dennis' parents wouldn't understand who she was in the way that a magical family would. "Thank you," she said.
Professor McGonagall nodded to her. "Please maintain your guard."
"I will," Rachel promised. She returned to Severus to find him speaking with another member of the Order. She waited quietly, wanting to be with him. This wasn't so bad as long as he was nearby.
"Good afternoon, Stella," Rachel said, coming to a stop by Stella's desk early on Monday afternoon.
"Good afternoon to you too," Stella said, putting aside a piece of parchment to smile at her. "How about that Wizengamot meeting?"
Rachel shook her head. "People are impossible."
"True enough, and sometimes the more power they have, the more impossible they get. Not everyone, but I can think of enough people that's true for," Stella said with a small smile.
"I can think of a few myself," Rachel said. She hoped she wasn't impossible. She tried not to be a difficult person. "Things with the MLE better now that you're not looking after forty prisoners?"
"Much. We're still badly short staffed, but we're starting to be able to get people back to their regular duties, even if we're still trading off on extra shifts. How are things with the auror team?"
Rachel shrugged. "Pretty good. I've only been out twice and I know the beta team has been out three times. It's a lot less intense than I was expecting."
"Only you could call fighting Death Eaters less intense than expected. I suppose after You-Know-Who, everyone else is just small fish," Stella said, her expression now curious.
"I wouldn't say that. But I'm not used to having a whole team with me in an attack and it makes a big difference," Rachel explained. "Killing the Dark Lord was sort of a special circumstance that I'm hoping never to repeat."
"That much is understandable," Stella said with a nod. "Let's see, I've got you with Madam Bones at the moment and no one has gone in since before lunch, so you can just go knock on her door."
"Thanks, good to see you," Rachel said.
"You too," Stella called after her.
Rachel went down the hall. It was nice that Stella was so easy going. Rachel appreciated anyone who was willing to just chat with her like she was any other person. She knocked on Madam Bones' door and entered when she heard Madam Bones calling for her to come in.
"Rachel. How are you?" Madam Bones asked.
"Pretty good," Rachel said. Other than her nightmares and a semi-persistent feeling of anxiety, she thought she was okay. "How about you?"
"Not bad. Busy, as usual. I believe your Order of Merlin ceremony is this Saturday?" she asked, gesturing for Rachel to take a seat.
"Yes, it is. I'm a little nervous. Somehow I think it will be a bit more in depth than the ceremony for everyone else," Rachel said as she sat down. Her strategy for this ceremony was mostly just to endure it.
"It will be more in depth, that's true. Rufus will give a more detailed history of your achievements and after the awarding, there will be a party and an unveiling of your portrait."
Rachel managed not to grimace. She hadn't particularly wanted to see that portrait again. She supposed she'd get through it and then she could go back to pretending that she didn't have a portrait. "May I ask you a question?"
"Yes, of course."
"What do you know about the magic that is used to create portraits?"
"Not much at all, I'm afraid. I'm aware it's a fairly specialized set of spells that are chained together in one long incantation and that the idea is that it preserves your memories and personality in the portrait. The portrait won't become active until you die, though to be honest I'm not sure why it works that way, only that it does," Madam Bones explained.
Rachel decided to try one more question. "People don't find the spell to be invasive?"
"Not that I know of. While it's replicating very personal information, the person casting the spell does not receive that information. They don't know anything new about you."
She supposed that meant no one else felt the spell the way that she did. Out of all the spells she'd felt since gaining the ability two and a half years ago, that one had definitely been the worst. "May I ask you a question on a totally different topic?"
"Yes, please ask."
"What do you know about Anyssa Selwyn?"
Madam Bones' mouth went flat for a moment. "Yes, that was rather unexpected, wasn't it? We had assumed they'd be sending Aaron, not Anyssa. Obviously they waited until the bulk of the trials were finished to try to distance themselves from all of that, but it's still a surprise that Anyssa wound up with the seat. Unfortunately we do not know much about her, but I can suggest that you speak with your father, as he was her Head of House at Hogwarts. If he has any relevant information, I would also be interested."
"I'll ask him and let you know," Rachel said. "Severus usually has good insights into his students."
"From what I understand, he was a very dedicated Head of House. I'm certain he is missed at Hogwarts, but I absolutely respect his decision to change his career path in the face of what happened," Madam Bones said, now looking sympathetic.
Rachel decided it was probably a good thing that Severus' real reasons for leaving Hogwarts were unknown to the general public.
"Now, I believe you wanted to talk to me about Azkaban, and I had some questions for you as well."
She nodded. "I'd be happy to answer any questions you have, but I'm still doing research, so I might not know all the answers yet."
"I think my question is a little more simplistic than that. Why is this so important to you?" Madam Bones asked, her gaze fixed on Rachel now.
Rachel managed not to hunch her shoulders. She had to be able to do this without making it personal. Madam Bones was not the only person she'd need to convince. "I believe that what we're doing in Azkaban is wrong and inhumane. No one, not even the prisoner who has committed the worst crimes, deserves to be kept in those conditions. Torture is wrong. Having a prison with a premature death rate of nearly fifty percent is wrong. They may be prisoners, but they are still people and everyone deserves a basic level of dignity. I suggest that anyone who believes Dementor exposure isn't torture can go spend a few nights there and report back their findings."
The corner of Madam Bones' mouth quirked up. "I don't think we'll be sending the Wizengamot to experience Azkaban for themselves. You understand that this will be an unpopular position? That you're going to have to convince people?"
"I do."
"And you also understand that if you pursue this and get it past the proposal stage - which is absolutely no guarantee - you're probably going to spend the next half decade of your life on this project?"
"I do understand that, and I want to do it. I cannot in good conscience remain on the Wizengamot and be party to sending people to Azkaban. If I can't fix this, I can't stay."
Madam Bones nodded again, but now she looked worried. "Tell me about the premature death rate."
"I'm defining premature death as a death before the end of a sentence, except in cases where it's noted that the prisoner was near death upon entering Azkaban and would likely have died even without being imprisoned. I'm still compiling the statistics. I'm still in the 1800s, but so far there's an average of a sixty two percent premature death rate for people with a twenty year sentence and thirty seven with a five year sentence. When the Wizengamot votes to send people to Azkaban for five years, they're giving over a third of them a death sentence."
"I'd like to see if those numbers hold true in this century," Madam Bones said after a long moment of silence.
"I intend to find out, it's just going to take a while. There are a lot of records."
"Have your clerk help you put your research into a publishable form for the Wizengamot. The people you really need to convince will want that sort of information. Convincing the Wizengamot that Azkaban is wrong is a slim possibility, but is not the most difficult stage of your proposal. You will need a feasible and secure alternative to Azkaban. It's not enough to say that something isn't working, you have to say what the better alternative is," Madam Bones said.
"I intend to do that as well. I'm doing some research on Dementors so we can figure out what to do with them. And most of my research has been on Azkaban, because I'm not sure where else I can look to find out more about prisons," Rachel said.
Madam Bones nodded. "As I've mentioned before, I'm willing to arrange a visit to Azkaban for you so you can report on the conditions first hand. I am also willing to use my contacts in the ICW to help you arrange visits and information exchanges with other countries. It will take some time. I'll write the letters of introduction before the next meeting of the ICW. I will also inform Rufus of what we're looking at, so that he's not caught off guard if someone asks him about it. You'll want to speak to him as well, as a courtesy. At some point you'll want to bring Albus into the discussion as well."
"I can do that, thank you," Rachel said. "Is this something you're willing to support?"
"You're going to be doing the bulk of the work here, but if you can come up with a plan for a reasonable alternative, I will support your proposal in the Wizengamot chambers."
"Thank you," Rachel said, knowing she'd just cleared a big hurdle in preparing her proposal. If Madam Bones had turned her down entirely, this wouldn't have worked at all.
"I'm not sure thank you is the appropriate response to someone telling you that you have a half decade of work ahead of you," Madam Bones said, but she was smiling.
"Even so, I appreciate you helping me with this."
"Believe it or not, I actually do care what happens to people. I have to have a certain utilitarianism because ultimately I am responsible for who goes to trial and is charged under what crimes. I don't want people to be suffering needlessly, but I also cannot allow people who have hurt others and will likely do so again to go free. And, with the Wizengamot, we have to work with what we have. Thanks to winning the war, we have somewhat of a more pliable Wizengamot than usual, so we can push for things like protections for muggles, equality for muggleborns, and changes to certain societal structures such as Azkaban. If you had approached me with this during the last Wizengamot, I would have told you your plan never would have made it past the proposal phase."
"I didn't mean to imply that you didn't care," Rachel began.
"I know. I just wanted to let you know that I do. But I also have to do my job," Madam Bones said, her mouth flat again.
"I understand. I didn't like voting for the Death Eaters to go to Azkaban. But for most of them, they'd be a danger to other people if we didn't."
"That's true. And we have to keep in mind the people who were already victimized as well as the ones who are potential victims."
Rachel nodded. "Was there anything else you wanted to speak with me about today?"
"No, that was everything. I'll have Stella let your clerk know when I've received return messages and other arrangements have been made," Madam Bones said.
"Thank you," Rachel said as she stood.
"Of course," Madam Bones said.
Rachel let herself out and went back to her office with her mind in the clouds. She'd achieved something today, but now she had a lot more work ahead of her.
She had decided against wearing her disguise cloak to the Witch Weekly offices, but only because she didn't want people to know she used a disguise cloak at all. The best disguise was no one knowing she had one. It still annoyed her a little bit that everyone knew about her invisibility cloak - though she didn't have all that much occasion to need to use it anymore.
The offices for Witch Weekly looked just like she would expect an office building to look on the outside, but stepping inside immediately told her she was in the magical world. On the wall 'Witch Weekly' was written in enormous stylized letters and there were framed covers of Witch Weekly issues all around. She could see further into the offices and people in robes were moving around and talking to each other. There was a door open to what was obviously a photography studio, which Rachel couldn't help but be curious about. And there were pieces of parchment flying around, presumably on their way to whoever they were being delivered to. Rachel thought it was a good idea that they didn't teach Hogwarts students to send messages that way - the corridors would be filled with notes flying every which way.
Rachel walked to the front desk and smiled nervously at the receptionist. "Hello. I have a meeting with Daphne Greengrass at one o'clock."
The woman stared at her. "Wow."
Rachel waited for a moment longer and then pulled out her wand and concentrated for a moment to cast the Patronus charm. "To Daphne Greengrass. I'm here. Is there somewhere we can speak that isn't in public view?"
The woman behind the desk flushed bright red. "Sorry. I just. You're really her."
Rachel sighed. "I really am."
"It's true that they're awarding you the Order of Merlin, First Class?" She seemed almost breathless at the idea.
"It's true," Rachel said shortly, renewing her resolve to never go to public places in the magical world as herself.
The woman continued to stare at her, as if expecting that Rachel was going to spontaneously kill a Death Eater or something.
"Rachel?"
She turned and found Daphne approaching from another hallway. "Daphne."
Daphne smiled and motioned for Rachel to join her. "Come on, we can use my office. Or my broom closet, depending on how you look at it."
Rachel followed her down a more sedate hallway. "They're keeping you in a broom closet?"
"I'm an intern, what do you expect? I feel like I should tell you up front that you are doing me a huge favor and this will go a long way towards making me credible in the eyes of the people in charge."
"I don't mind. I'd like to help you if I can," Rachel said. "Besides, better you than someone who is just going to gawk at me and ask stupid questions."
"Get that a lot?" Daphne asked.
"Less in the Wizengamot than anywhere else. The MLE is getting better as people get used to me. My Quidditch team is used to me already. The fans at the Quidditch games, not so much. Other than that, I don't really go out," Rachel said.
"I can't blame you. It was bad enough when we were at Hogwarts and everyone was talking about you." Daphne came to a stop in front of a wooden door. "Don't judge me, okay?"
"Okay," Rachel said, not sure what to make of that request.
She followed Daphne inside the room, which while it would be big for a broom closet was still little more than a glorified closet. There was enough room for a desk and two chairs and that was pretty much it. It was a little claustrophobic, but Rachel thought she would be alright for the time being.
"It's not much," Daphne said as she sat down at her desk. "I'm more an errand girl at the moment than a writer, but everyone has to start somewhere, I suppose."
"Well, hopefully they'll see how diligent you are and they'll want you to do more over time," Rachel said as she sat down, her knees bumping against the desk.
"I hope so. I really do. My parents are humoring me while I find a husband. I think if I take much longer, they're going to start giving me options to choose from."
"But they can't force you into a marriage because you're an adult, right?" Rachel checked.
"That's right, but they can be involved. I told them that I needed a little time after Hogwarts and the war and sort of intimated that things were very stressful our last two years, which they were. I think the state that Pansy is in sort of reinforces that, thankfully, and Astoria was wane through the whole summer as well," Daphne said, sighing as she brushed her hair away from her face.
"How is Pansy?" Rachel asked.
Daphne shook her head. "Not good. I've never seen her like this. She's despondent. She can't sleep and she won't take sleeping potions. I think my mother is going to force the issue of Pansy seeing a Mind Healer, which is good, because I can't make her see sense. I know you care about Pansy, but right now is not the right time for you to see her or write to her. She needs…I don't know what she needs, but I think she'll be more upset if she hears from you right now."
"Alright. If there is anything I can do. Or if there's some arrangement I can make that would help. Anything," Rachel offered.
"Thank you," Daphne said. "I keep hoping things will get better with time. Anyway, we should do this. Most of these questions aren't mine, so please do not think I'm an idiot. And, of course, you don't have to answer anything you don't want to."
Rachel nodded. They might as well get this over with.
"What is your favorite color?" Daphne asked, her quill posed over her parchment.
"Seriously?" Rachel asked.
Daphne sighed. "It's Witch Weekly, not investigative journalism. What did you expect?"
Rachel shrugged. She didn't even know what her own favorite color was. "Green, I suppose."
"Any specific shade of green?"
"No, just green."
Daphne wrote that down. "What is your favorite place to shop for robes?"
It was Rachel's turn to sigh. "Uh, for dress robes I go to Twilfitt and Tattings in Diagon Alley. Why does anyone care where I buy my robes?"
"According to our editor, this is the sort of thing witches want to read about. Don't worry about it too much, the article will make it all seem more cohesive. What is your aspiration?"
Rachel wasn't ready to talk about her plans for Azkaban with the public yet. "I want to help stop prejudice against muggles and muggleborns and help our cultures respect and understand each other and prevent another war."
Daphne paused for a long moment. "I'm not sure if they're going to publish that."
"If they want my views on House Elf rights they can have those too," Rachel said.
Daphne shook her head and wrote down what Rachel had said. "I might, uh, edit that a little. Not content wise, just phrasing."
"Phrasing?"
"Like 'you aspire to help heal the rifts between magical and muggleborn culture, hoping to prevent future violence like that which has plagued our country for these past two years'. Like that."
Rachel frowned. "Can we fit the respect and understanding part in there somewhere?"
"Um, how about: 'Rachel hopes to increase the respect and understanding that magical people have for muggleborn culture'?" Daphne asked.
Rachel didn't think that magical people had almost any respect or understanding for muggle culture at the moment. "That will do for now," she said.
"Alright. Here's an easier one. How do you feel about being awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class?"
Rachel bit her lip to stop herself from answering automatically. She thought the whole awarding thing was a self congratulatory pat on the back on the part of the Ministry and that they would all be running a Ministry in exile and fearing for their lives at this very moment if it hadn't been for a random twist of fate. "It's nice," she tried.
"Rachel." Daphne looked at her with an almost pleading expression.
"It's an honor," Rachel tried.
"And?"
"And what?"
"And you feel honored to be chosen for such a prestigious award, particularly since you are the youngest person to receive it in the past four hundred years," Daphne said, writing.
"I didn't know that," Rachel said. "I'm not sure what age has to do with anything."
"It's impressive that you did something so important while you're so young. People like that."
"Why?"
Daphne threw her hands up. "I don't know, they just do. You're special, Rachel. People always expected great things of you as the Girl-Who-Lived, and then you actually delivered on that. I think…after everything that was printed in the newspapers about you while we were at Hogwarts, people sort of saw you as this tragic figure. You'd lost your parents, you'd suffered horribly, and even at Hogwarts you weren't safe from that suffering. You survived being abducted by Death Eaters. Everyone expected you to be broken by all of that, and then you turn around and kill You-Know-Who and save us all. It's…people are impressed by you, Rachel. They want to understand you."
Rachel shook her head. "None of them can understand. This is not a thing that can be understood."
Daphne watched her for a moment and then nodded slightly. "We saw how much you were suffering at Hogwarts, you know that, right? You know that we would have helped if we'd known how to help?"
She thought that none of them had really seen how much she had suffered sometimes. Those endless months in sixth year when she was barely aware of anything outside a haze of dissociation. Hiding from that damned article in fifth year when everyone was talking about how she'd been abused. The terror she'd felt at the tasks in her fourth year and the helplessness of knowing she'd been set up to be killed. The endless Dementor-induced nightmares in her third year. No. Hogwarts had not exactly been a good time and there wasn't anything anyone could have done about it. "I know. Did you have more questions?"
"Just stupid ones. Do you have any pets?"
"I have a cat named Feverfew. She's a half kneazle and she's too smart for her own good, but she's very affectionate. And I have an owl named Gladys."
Daphne smiled. "There, that's the kind of thing people like to read. Good."
The questions went on for another thirty minutes, mostly silly things that Rachel didn't understand the purpose of. Why would anyone care what her skin care routine was, especially when her skin care routine was washing her face and showering regularly?
"I hate to ask this now," Daphne said when they were finally finished. "Would you even consider doing another interview again sometime, maybe in six months or so?"
"Potentially, especially if I'm allowed to speak about my work in the Wizengamot," Rachel said.
"You can speak about that now, if you want. I know I didn't ask about it, but we can put it in," Daphne said.
"Not right now, my proposal isn't ready yet. I have some more things I need to do on it first," Rachel said.
"Well, we're definitely open to writing about that, especially if it's sort of a human interest story."
"I think people will find it interesting. It will be controversial at least."
Daphne smiled. "We like controversy, so that should work out. Thank you for coming. I know it wasn't exactly what you wanted to do with your day."
"It was alright," Rachel said, though she wanted to make the experience as infrequent as possible.
"Come on, I'll walk you out," Daphne said.
"Is there a certain time frame I should expect this interview to come out at?" Rachel asked.
"I think this is slated for the second week of December. You have no idea how much work goes into a weekly publication. I don't know how the Daily Prophet manages to publish every single day. That would be exhausting."
Rachel thought that it probably would be. She didn't know how they found enough things to write about for an entire newspaper every day, but she supposed that's why there were articles about charming cheese and other weird things on days when the news wasn't particularly busy. "I hope you wind up with the job that you want. Don't marry just because your parents want you to."
"No worries. I'm not going to marry until I've found the right person for me. I had somewhat of a reputation for pickiness at Hogwarts, but I never saw the point of dating someone I knew wasn't a good fit for me," Daphne said as she stood.
"I think that's a good way to do things. You shouldn't settle for less than what you want," Rachel said.
"I won't."
They left the closet of an office and Rachel felt her shoulders relax a little bit. Daphne bid her farewell in the lobby and Rachel apparated back home.
It was quiet, which was a relief, and Rachel went into the sitting room to sit down. Somehow it had already been a long day and it wasn't quite two in the afternoon.
Severus took his assigned seat near the front of the room after a long glance around. He had never been to the British Museum of Magic before and wouldn't have wanted to come under these circumstances. He was proud of Rachel - of course he was- but he feared that the Minister awarding her the Order of Merlin was just more political manipulation. Not that Rachel won't have use of the medal, it would easily help secure her as a source of power within the Wizengamot, but he also did not want Rachel to be manipulated by those seeking to use her power.
He took another look around the room. There were close to two hundred people gathered. Most of them were the Wizengamot, though Severus also recognized people from the MLE. Rachel's friends were gathered in a group and he spotted the Weasleys and Xenophilius with them.
The ceremony was taking place in the Hall of Merlin, which contained the portraits of other Order of Merlin, First Class awardees, displays containing artifacts from their achievements, and a less factual display about Merlin. History was actually very spotty about who Merlin was, what he did, and even when exactly he lived. Merlin was considered the most powerful wizard in British history. He was said to be a Seer and a prophet - though as far as Severus was aware they had no recorded prophecies from Merlin. He was said to be a metamorphmagus and an animagus which was certainly a possibility as from what records of the past they have suggest that both used to be more common. Otherwise, the history of Merlin was mostly just myth and legend.
Severus had taught himself young to use 'Merlin' as an epithet rather than 'god', as he did not want to stand out from the other Slytherin students. The full epithet used to be 'by Merlin's wand' but time and laziness had shortened to simply 'Merlin'. If Rachel was correct and the dead were watching over them, Severus wondered what Merlin thought of generations of witches and wizards swearing by him every time something mildly surprising or disturbing crossed their paths.
Minister Scrimgeour walked on stage to polite applause and he held his hand up and nodded at people. "Thank you, but I'll ask you to save your applause for the real reason we are here tonight. Please, let me introduce you to two figures that you all know well. First, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards."
Severus gritted his teeth and applauded as Albus walked on stage. He must have missed the announcement that Albus had resumed his position as Supreme Mugwump. He had always thought that Albus held too many powerful positions, and as Severus watched him now, he wondered what Albus intended to do with all that power he had accumulated now that he had a sympathetic Minister and Wizengamot, and a populace that was willing to see him lead.
"Second, a young lady who needs no introduction, Wizengamot Member Rachel Leah Snow," Minister Scrimgeour announced.
Rachel stepped out on stage, dressed neatly in sea green dress robes. She wore her hair loose, but had tamed her curls so they weren't overwhelming her features. She looked a little daunted by the applause as the audience stood.
Severus stood as well, applauding, and managed to catch her eye and smile and nod at her. She managed a small smile in return as she continued walking to stand next to Albus.
The Minister managed to gain control of the audience again and waved for everyone to sit down. "Yes, indeed. The heroes of our age. I'll begin with Professor Dumbledore, both with a general history and then on to his actions during the war."
Severus sat through a description of Albus' many varied achievements as he watched the stage. His grudge against Albus felt uniquely fresh. Albus held all this power and yet he still had felt the need to use Rachel - and Severus - to accomplish his aims. Perhaps that's where Albus' true power came from, not his magical power, but his political power. He manipulated people into seeing what he wanted them to see, to act as he wanted them to act, all the while they didn't realize they were being manipulated.
It all boiled down to the question of what Albus wanted now. Severus hadn't the slightest idea. Albus had all the things that a man might traditionally desire - wealth, achievements in magic that would ensure his place in the history books, accolades and fame, magical power, and political power. What more could he possibly want?
Severus rose to his feet - reluctantly - and applauded as the Minister placed the Order of Merlin around Albus' neck. To not applaud in this company would make a statement he did not want to make - here, in this company, he was representing Rachel, and he did not want to burn any of her bridges.
"Ah, and now Rachel," the Minister said. "As Rachel is only eighteen years old, her history is a fair bit shorter."
Severus eyed the Minister, hoping that he wasn't about to drag out Rachel's past as a demonstration of how much Rachel had overcome.
"Rachel first became known to us that Halloween night in 1981, when she survived You-Know-Who casting the Killing Curse at her, a feat she would go on to repeat. Over the years we have watched as Rachel has survived and escaped from a number of Death Eater attacks, often by her own ingenuity. We know now that Rachel was working behind the scenes with Professor Dumbledore to help bring an end to this war," the Minister said.
Severus thought that was an interesting way of saying that a school child had been manipulated into doing work for a para-governmental war organization. Albus may have maintained that no students were allowed to join the Order, but the work Rachel was doing in her sixth and seventh year by definition was Order work.
"On June twenty first of this year, a day that will be marked in our history books, not just for the loss of life, but for the victories of the day, Rachel went to You-Know-Who to prevent an early attack on Hogwarts, giving the professors precious time to evacuate the children of our nation from a terrible battle. Rachel died to provide them that time, and it is only through her sacrifice that she was able to return to us and then kill You-Know-Who in order to save the remaining defenders at Hogwarts and to end the war for good. For unprecedented valor and bravery, I award Rachel Leah Snow the Order of Merlin, First Class."
Severus stood and applauded along with the rest of the audience, grateful for the careful wording of the Minister to make it seem as though there were no prophecies or horcruxes or blood magic involved. He didn't want Rachel associated with any of those things. He noted that Rachel was flushing slightly as the Minister placed the dark green ribbon around her neck, the gold medallion glinting in the light of multiple flashes as reporters took pictures.
"Now, let's celebrate and honor those we have gathered to witness tonight," the Minister said, waving again, and then leaving the stage with Rachel and Albus.
Severus turned and looked around the room. He did not see Rita Skeeter anywhere, which was good forethought on the Minister's part. Hopefully he would not have to worry about other reporters accosting Rachel. He went to join her friends and the Weasleys, expecting that Rachel would make her way there as soon as she was able. He had no doubt that this had been a difficult evening for her.
Rachel had spent the evening with the uncomfortable sensation that people were staring at her chest. She knew that's because she was wearing the Order of Merlin, but it still made her uncomfortable to see people's eyes dip down to look at it when they greeted her. She didn't even know what she was supposed to do with the damn thing. She'd ask Severus or Booker. They would know the appropriate thing that people did with an Order of Merlin.
She'd spent the past hour speaking politely - if briefly - to people and wanting to go home. She wasn't quite to the point where she could recognize most of the Wizengamot by sight, but she was getting closer and thankfully most people introduced themselves when they spoke to her. She smiled back at them, nodded when they thanked her for killing the Dark Lord since telling them 'you're welcome' didn't seem the appropriate response, and let them shake her hand.
Now she was skirting the edges of the event and looking at the other portraits in the Hall of Merlin. There were fewer of them than she'd expected. The earliest ones had been given by the Wizard's Council in the 1300s and these portraits were mostly inert. All told, there were less than a hundred portraits in the hall for a period of over six hundred years. She'd understood that the first class award was prestigious, but she hadn't realized how rarely it was given out. That made her feel even less like she actually deserved the award.
She continued to wander down the wall, content to hide simply by being a young girl at an event where the majority of people were older adults who knew each other. She understood that the social function was far more about politicking and she was happy to let Professor Dumbledore and the Minister take the brunt of that job.
Some of the portraits had display cases with objects in them. For a number of people it was their wand, which was interesting because the older wands didn't look much like the wand Rachel now carried. They were longer, unvarnished, and carved with runes. One display case had a human skull in it, which Rachel quickly passed by, not wanting to know whether it was the wizard in the portrait's skull or if it was from some dark lord that he'd defeated. She wanted to go explore the rest of the museum, but that could wait for another trip.
Next to one of the portraits, this one of a woman, which seemed fairly rare, hung a magical cloak. Rachel wondered if her invisibility cloak was going to wind up on display one day. She hoped not, but she didn't know what was going to become of it when she died. She wasn't planning to have children and she had no heir. Eventually she'd have to figure it out, but she hoped she was a long way away from dying. Once had been enough for her, at least for the meantime.
As she grew closer to modern history the portraits became more lively. Some of them bowed or curtsied to her. Next to each portrait was a small plaque, commemorating the event for which they'd been awarded the Order of Merlin. For a surprising number of them it was stopping a dark witch or wizard or for ending a war. Rachel felt that their History of Magic class was actively terrible. How had she not known that dark lords and ladies were such a huge recurring problem? Was this everywhere or was this just Britain? And what could possibly be done about it?
It also made her see Britain's reduced magical population in a new light. In a sense, the Dark Lord had been right when he told her that magical Britain was in decline. If powerful witches and wizards were constantly killing each other off - and taking segments of the population with them - then both their declining population rate and magical skill rate made perfect sense. Of course the Dark Lord's plan to fix that had actively made the situation worse. This display also made Rachel reconsider her stance on learning elemental magic. There had been three wars against a dark wizard in the past fifty years. It stood to reason that there would be another one in Rachel's lifetime. If she could, next time she wanted to stop the situation from reaching open warfare.
Rachel finally reached the last two awarded Order of Merlin portraits; Professor Dumbledore's and her own. Her own had been unveiled just an hour ago and she didn't like looking at it at all. Her intention was to never see it again after tonight, even if she did come back to explore the rest of the museum. There was another painting next to Rachel's that she hadn't been close enough to see, and Rachel moved closer to look.
It was a painting of the battle at Hogwarts, from the perspective of one of the people who had been defending the castle. The right side of the painting was filled the an elemental battle with thick white streaks of wind, sharp silver strikes of lightning, and deep brown earth flying in the air. The center of the painting was focused on a streak of lurid green light, the light hitting the Dark Lord. And on the left side of the portrait, small but detailed, was Rachel with the wind blowing her invisibility cloak off of her as she held her wand in the direction of the Dark Lord.
She found the plaque next to the painting. It was titled 'The Final Strike' and Rachel supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to see that the artist's name was Luna Lovegood.
"I wasn't certain if you would be okay with it."
Rachel jolted and found that Luna had quietly approached. "It's fine. It's better than that," she said, nodding in the direction of her portrait.
Luna looked at the portrait. "You don't like it? I think it's a fairly good likeness."
She glanced at the portrait and quickly looked away. "The portrait is fine. I just don't like it. Yours is beautiful though. The way you captured the elemental magic."
Luna turned her attention back to her own painting. "It's part of a series I painted this summer. I wasn't sure what to do with the images the battle left in my mind, so I painted them. I painted portraits of the people who we knew who had died and gave them to their families. I gave Professor Dumbledore Professor Moody's portrait, since he seemed to know him best. I couldn't find Dennis. I still have Colin's portrait."
"Professor McGonagall can't find Dennis either. I hope he's alright," Rachel said.
"I hope so too," Luna said. "You're not mad? That this painting is here?"
"I'm not mad," Rachel promised. "Is this really what it looked like?"
"I was on the ground at that point. I was hurt and couldn't fight anymore, so I was pretending to be dead so the Death Eaters wouldn't kill me. I'm not sure why I looked in that direction. I felt something. I don't know what it was. I couldn't hear you from where I was. But I saw the shimmer of your invisibility cloak as it came off, and then I saw the light of the Killing Curse strike You-Know-Who. It was like the world froze in that moment while I waited for him to fall. I half believed he wouldn't, but he did. I saw Professor Dumbledore collapse a moment later. I wasn't sure if he was still alive and I couldn't reach him. There were still Death Eaters, but they were all frozen too. Shocked, I think, by their lord falling. And then Professor Snape shouted at you, and it's like the whole world started again."
Rachel watched Luna for a long moment, trying to understand what Luna was feeling. "Does the battle still bother you?" she asked, uncertain what else she could ask.
"Sometimes. It was hard to go outside at Hogwarts at first, but the ground there has healed. I visit the memorial stone once a week and place flowers. Ginny and some of the others in the DA come with me sometimes. Hogwarts is quieter now. I love the castle, but I can tell that it's becoming time for me to leave it. Ginny and I are working to make sure the DA is in good hands when we leave," Luna said. "They paid me two hundred and fifty galleons for this painting. I would have just given it to them, but my father said to take the money to use for my mastery and apprenticeships, which I think is wise."
"That's a good idea. I'm glad they paid you. Are you going to keep painting even though you're focusing on animals?"
"I don't think I can stop. It's just part of me, just as though I'm speaking or breathing."
"There's a person I've met who makes her own paints like potions. If you want, I can write a letter of introduction for you if you want to ask to learn from her. I think she'd accept you if you showed her your art," Rachel offered.
Luna looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. "I'd like that, actually. Maybe not until summer."
"Why don't I write her now while I'm fresh on her mind and you and she can make arrangements for the summer," Rachel suggested. At least something good would come of that portrait fiasco.
"Yes, thank you," Luna said. She turned and looked over the crowd. "It's interesting, isn't it?"
"What?" Rachel asked.
"That even though they're talking about you, you can still slip away. You're not even invisible."
Rachel smiled ever so slightly. "I'm sort of here as a prop. They don't actually need me to do all of the political maneuvering, they just need to pretend they have my support."
"Are you going to let them do that?" Luna asked.
"They can talk all they want here. My views are clear enough in the Wizengamot chambers and if they don't know that now, they will soon enough."
Luna smiled. "I suspect they won't know what to do with you when you start telling them what you believe."
"That's probably true, but they'll have to figure it out." There were some things that Rachel simply wasn't going to compromise on and the deeper Rachel got into Wizengamot politics, the more firmly convinced she was that she needed to work to make sure the proposals she believed in would succeed. It wasn't just Azkaban and protection of muggles and muggleborn rights that needed fixing, it was a lot of things. And maybe, with the right connections, she could even do something about those things. At the very least it was worth trying.