Before you read this chapter, I must admit that it is in large part self indulgence to tell a fundamental moment of history of the country where I was born from a wizarding perspective. But at the same time, there are also elements showing international dynamics around Voldemort's return.
For your information, everything related to the Muggle world in this chapter have truly happened in real life, down to the tiniest details. On October 30, 1995, a nation was litterally split in two.
ROSA II
On the evening of October 30th, 1995, at the 59th of Pall Mall Street, London, everyone was silent. The only sound that could be heard was the voice of commentators from the television. Everyone was staring at it with apprehension, unsure as to what was going to happen. At the Quebec Government Office in London, an unspoken rule dictated that on the night of the second referendum on the independence of Quebec, no one was to speak aloud of his hopes or to obviously display his happiness if his option won.
In the building, as everyone kept their eyes on the television, there was an employee who spent her time going from her office back to the room with the television. One of her colleagues asked her why she kept going back to her office. She said that she was checking whether she received phone calls. It was barely partially true. Rosa Johnson Bones was in fact receiving reports from the Ministry of Magic of Quebec about the development of the referendum back home. And the results they gave could only be described as… overblowing.
Eighty-four per cent. 84 per cent of the wizarding population voted both for the independence of the province of Quebec, and for the Ministry of Magic of Quebec to be their only government. There remained some verifications to do and a few last votes to count, but in the wizarding world, the game was over. Results were even better than in 1980, when 72 per cent of wizards voted for independence. However, as soon as Rosa moved from her personal office to the Muggle world that the rest of the Office lived in, reality changed.
At the beginning of the evening, the first results came out. The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC), or Radio-Canada, the public television network of the Muggle Government of Canada, showed two percentages, one in blue indicating the proportion of voters who so far voted "YES" for independence, while the number in red indicated those voting "NO", against it. Bernard Derome, the famous news anchor who was already commentating the results of the previous referendum in 1980, gave the first results as they came in. The first votes to be revealed were from the Magdalen Islands, a small archipelago at the east of the province where people lived in a different time zone, one hour ahead of the rest of the province. As a result, their votes came in first.
Everyone was surprised. Some let gasps as they saw things unfold. The islands had the reputation of supporting the winning side in any election. And the first results indicated that over 58 per cent supported independence. As votes started pouring in, essentially from the eastern regions of the province, the districts of Duplessis, Gaspé, Matane, Rimouski, Rivière-du-Loup, Charlevoix, Roberval, Dubuc, Lac-Saint-Jean, Champlain, Trois-Rivières, Richelieu, support for independence fluctuated, dropping to 55 per cent before climbing back to over 60 per cent, but remaining around the initial results.
Each time Rosa came out of her office after receiving news from the wizarding vote, she saw that the Muggle vote was inferior, but that a majority remained for independence. A more than enough majority. Her heart pounded heavily. They were going to make it. This wasn't 1980, where the results had been negative from the very beginning. Things were different this time. On the television, celebrations took place in the gatherings of independence supporters, while federalists looked beaten down.
Votes kept being revealed, more westerner regions starting to show their results. First, it was the capital city of Quebec. And that was where they met a bump. The vote was in clear majority for independence. But of the five electoral districts in the capital, one voted against independence. It was only at 51.4 per cent. Some other districts in the city voted in favor at 55.7 per cent. Rosa told herself this was only a bump. It was surely nothing. They were on a good path. The rhythm was given by eastern regions. But a part of Rosa's heart knew what was approaching. And it dreaded her. The votes from Montreal were coming in.
This was Rosa's hometown. Rosa was born, grew up and studied on this island. It was the economic heart of the province, for Muggles and wizards alike. Nearly half the inhabitants of Quebec lived in this city and its suburbs. It was also there that cultural minorities, immigrants and anglophones gathered. Montreal was the most cosmopolitan city of the province. Rosa knew something about that. Born from descendants of Irish immigrants, she herself was part of the minorities who lived in this city. And now their votes came in.
Not only their votes though. Many francophones also lived in Montreal and its surroundings. The Prime Minister himself was elected as the representative of the district of L'Assomption, located in the eastern suburbs of the island. In this district and many others where the population was largely francophone (Pointe-aux-Trembles, Terrebonne, Masson, Laval-des-Rapides, Rosemont, Hochelaga-Maisonneuve, Joliette, Gouin, Taillon), people voted for independence, sometimes with a majority over 60 per cent. Most were in the northern and eastern parts of Montreal. But this was nothing compared to results for western and southern districts of the city. These were the richest and most anglophone sectors of the province. D'Arcy-McGee. Jacques-Cartier. Mont-Royal. Outremont. Robert-Baldwin. Notre-Dame-de-Grâce. Westmount-Saint-Louis. Nelligan. Their results were so horrible that Rosa almost opened her mouth in despair while seeing them on the screen. Some of them had voted over 95 per cent against independence.
And then the results of the western districts of the province came in. Papineau. Gatineau. Chapleau. Hull. Pontiac. Things were barely better there. 70, sometimes 80 per cent of their inhabitants voted against independence. The capital city of Canada, Ottawa, was situated right next to the western border of Quebec. Many anglophones lived there as well, and a significant part of the population of these districts worked as public servants for the Government of Canada in the capital.
Rosa felt the crumbling feeling grow in her stomach as she saw the advance of the YES option melting away. 56 per cent. 55 per cent. 54. 53. 52. 51. Soon, it was 50-50. Then, for the first time, the majority changed side. Under the blue YES option, 49.99 per cent, and under the red NO option, 50.01 per cent. In the background of the program covering the results, supporters of the NO option were shown celebrating.
The percentage for independence kept dropping down to 49.90 per cent. Then it increased, very slowly, back to 50.01 per cent. It decreased again, then increased once more. Back and forth, the final results oscillated. The tension could be felt around the Office. The employees of the Quebec Government in London had different ideas about independence. Some were favorable, others were against. But Rosa could hear all their hearts beating as the future of a nation was being played right in front of them, decided by mere fractions of percentage points. And then the music of the TV program resonated, and they all knew what it meant. It was the same music that always played when Bernard Derome was about to announce his predictions for an unfolding election. Only this time, he would give his predictions about the results of a historical referendum. And he was never wrong in his predictions. Not when the counting of votes was so advanced.
"À 22h20, heure de l'Est, Radio-Canada prévoit, si la tendance du vote se maintient, que l'option du NON remportera ce référendum. Je répète. À 22h20, heure de l'Est, Radio-Canada prévoit, si la tendance du vote se maintient, que c'est l'option du NON qui remportera ce référendum." (At 10.20 pm, Eastern Time Zone, CBC predicts that, with the current voting trend, the NO option will win this referendum. I repeat. At 10.20 pm, Eastern Time Zone, CBC predicts that, with the current voting trend, the NO option will win this referendum.)
Rosa felt her heart being crushed.
Not again. Not again.
Tears came to her eyes as Bernard Derome continued to speak while showing images of festivities among the supporters of federalism.
"Donc, avec ces images des gens au Métropolis, une majorité de Québécois, pour la deuxième fois en 15 ans, rejette l'idée que le Québec devienne un pays souverain et choisit que le Québec demeure dans le Canada. Une majorité, une mince majorité…" (So, on the images of people at the Metropolis, a majority of Quebecois, for the second time in fifteen years, reject the option for Quebec to become an independent country and chooses for Quebec to remain inside Canada. A majority, a small majority…)
With those words, the hopes, the dreams, all the work, sweat and sleepless nights Rosa and her fellow colleagues poured into this project were crushed. It didn't matter that a large majority of wizards clearly stated their will to have their Ministry of Magic as their sole government and representative on the international stage. The Muggles made their choices. And without the country of Quebec, the odds that the International Confederation of Wizards would ever acknowledge them was slim, at best. And the Canadian Ministry of Magic would never relinquish his rights over governing the wizarding community of Quebec.
Around the office, the announcement elicited several reactions. Despite the tacit agreement between employees to not overtly show their allegiance, to not celebrate the victory at the expanse of those who lost, it became plain over the next few minutes whose hopes were crushed alongside those of Rosa. Some left the common areas and shut themselves behind the doors of their offices. Others excused themselves and went to hide in the washrooms. Others cried openly. But no one celebrated. Rosa witnessed many of her colleagues who successfully managed to control their emotions, both partisans of independence and federalists, approaching their coworkers and trying to console them. One of Rosa's colleagues, who she knew was against independence, seemed to notice the tears breaking down from her eyes.
"Are you alright, Rosa?" he asked, concern plain in his voice.
What did he think? They just failed at their second attempt to gain independence. It was nothing for him. He wanted to remain inside Canada. Tonight, his wish had been granted. All of Rosa's frustration flared up, but she managed to remain respectful when she replied.
"I have work to do," she said. Words almost stuck into her throat.
She walked away before she could tell something she might regret. This colleague was very respectful and kind. Deep down, she knew that he was aware of how difficult it was for supporters of independence right now. The referendum had divided families across the province, and this colleague of hers was no exception. He had strong arguments on the phone with his father, who spoke so loudly while treating his son of traitor that Rosa once heard him while the son and father discussed. He had just wanted to check whether Rosa was alright. But she couldn't get herself to talk with him right now.
Inside her office, Rosa found another note with the latest results of the wizarding vote. These were the final results for tonight. Eighty-three per cent. Down one per cent from the previous results. Despite the crushing majority of support, all Rosa could see right now was that even in the wizarding world, the final support had waned. She knew that despite the fact 17 per cent of the wizarding population of Quebec voted against independence, these people were far from rejecting Quebec or from accepting the status quo. Most believed that the Ministry of Magic of Quebec should have more power compared to its Canadian counterpart. The same applied for the Muggle population. Many who voted NO were nationalists. They identified themselves more as Quebecois than Canadians. Despite this, they voted against independence. Some might have been afraid of the unknown. Others probably believed that their provincial government could simply get more power while remaining a part of Canada.
Rosa shook her head at the incredulity of people. Why were Muggles and wizards from the same nation holding such different beliefs when it came to their future? Muggles of Quebec suffered decades of racism because they spoke a different language and practiced a different religion, much like their wizard counterparts. Had they forgotten each time their federal government, often led by Quebecois themselves, betrayed them and trampled on their rights? Rosa didn't get it. She came from an anglophone family, and even she failed to understand how the Muggles of her nation could reject freedom. The wizards had understood this at least. They had understood that as long as the Canadian Ministry refused to recognize the Quebec Ministry as a full-fledged Ministry of Magic, they would never be treated on an equal footing.
She did her best to contain her frustration. They had been sure that this time was the right one. And on the finish line, they failed miserably. They had one chance, and they wasted it. The Muggles were not conscious that their choice would have dire consequences for the wizarding population of their province.
From her window, Rosa saw the sky had taken a dark blue shade. If the hour was half past twenty-two in Quebec, here in London, they were five hours later, and the day was not far from beginning. People at the Office stayed awakened the whole night, following the results of the referendum as they were showed. They received specific instructions in case of a victory, to obtain recognition from as many countries as possible if the population voted for independence. But they had lost. As for Rosa, she had her own instructions from her Ministry. She was to go to the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland and present them the results of the referendum if they were positive. At 83 per cent, she was to do her best to influence the Ministry of Magic of these two countries to acknowledge the Ministry of Magic of Quebec. She knew that she had little chance to obtain such a thing. The Ministry of Great Britain and Ireland was very close to Canada, and it always supported the principle that one single Ministry was to represent the whole wizarding community on the territory of Canada. But she had to try nonetheless. She had to make a statement. Looking at the hour, she knew that in only a few hours, she would have to leave the Office and head for the Ministry.
She tried to remind herself that the vote had a crushing majority among wizards. They had a strong case to present. Could the international community ignore a population where over four people out of five wanted their own Ministry of Magic? Sadly, Rosa knew it was possible, and even very likely.
The colleague who tried to comfort her moments ago opened the door of her office at this moment.
"The Prime Minister is about to make his speech. I thought you would like to hear it," he said.
"Yes, I'm coming," she answered after a moment.
He left. Rosa pushed a sigh, then she walked out into the common area. On the large television, it wasn't the Prime Minister of Quebec who stood, but the leader of the Official Opposition at the Canadian Parliament. As strange as it may seem for outsiders, the second political formation in the Parliament of Canada with the highest number of Members of Parliament was an independentist organization, and their leader had been one of the main proponents of independence during the referendum campaign. And now he was addressing all the inhabitants of Quebec. The crowd was shouting and applauding him as he spoke.
"Gardons l'espoir! Gardons l'espoir, car la prochaine fois sera la bonne." New applauses. The blue flags with the white cross and fleur-de-lys were waved everywhere. Even here in the Office at London, the employees were applauding, at least out of respect. "Et elle pourrait venir… Et cette prochaine fois, elle pourrait venir plus rapidement qu'on le pense. Merci." (Let's keep hope! Let's keep hope, for the next time will be the right one. And it could come… And this next time, it could come sooner than we think. Thank you.)
The crowd erupted one last time in applauses. The leader of the federal Official Opposition put back a piece of paper into his suits, where his speech was written, and walked out of the scene.
"The next few days are going to be difficult," another colleague of Rosa said next to her. She could only nod. The words she just heard bore hope, and they lifted her mood somewhat. Only, they were only words. And if fifteen years had been necessary to hold a second referendum, she wasn't sure how long it would take for a third one to take place.
Gardons l'espoir! Gardons l'espoir! The words resonated in her mind. She reminded herself that not everything was lost. They could still achieve something in the wizarding world. Perhaps the game was over in the Muggle world, but wizards still had cards to play. Cards with eighty-three per cent of approval.
After a few minutes, the Prime Minister climbed on the stage and was welcomed by a crowd singing, cheering and applauding. Rosa looked at her watch. It was four and nine in the morning in London, which meant it was twenty-three and nine in Quebec. The Prime Minister tried to begin to speak on a few occasions, but the crowd kept interrupting him with more songs and cheers. Despite the defeat, supporters of independence wanted to make their voice heard. He needed several minutes before he was able to begin. Rosa noticed one thing when he took place. Unlike the previous speaker, the Prime Minister brought no notes with him. And when he began to speak, it was obvious that he didn't read anything placed in front of him. The whole time, he looked at the crowd in front of him, a crowd that celebrated him, despite the defeat. On the screen, the final results of the Muggle vote were displayed.
OUI: 49.4%
NON: 50.6%
A defeat by such a small margin. The emotion was plain in the voice of the Prime Minister as he began to speak.
"Mes amis… C'est raté, mais pas de beaucoup. Non, non, non, non, non… Puis c'est réussi. C'est réussi sur un plan. On est…" He seemed to hesitate. Then he seemed to begin talking as if he thought he was done with useless words. "Hey, si vous voulez, là, on va cesser de parler des francophones du Québec, voulez-vous. On va parler de nous. À 60%, on a voté pour." (My friends… It is missed, but not from much. No, no, no, no, no… It is a success. It is a success on one side. We are… Hey, if you want, we are going to stop talking about the francophones of Quebec, if you want. We are going to talk about us. At 60%, we voted YES.)
As the crowd in Quebec cheered him, Rosa felt a somewhat uneasy feeling grow in her heart. And this uneasiness was felt through the whole Office in London. As independentist as she was, and as supportive as she was for the Quebec community to protect its identity, including its language, Rosa came from an anglophone family, who originated from Ireland. Both her husband and daughter were English citizens. Many in the Office had friends and family in England as well. Some were immigrants, or children of immigrants, from countries as diverse as Haiti and Vietnam. So hearing the Prime Minister talking only about francophones… Rosa knew that indeed, francophones were way more supportive of independence than anglophones or immigrants, but still… She felt uneasy with these words.
The Prime Minister went on.
"Hey, on s'est bien battus. On s'est bien battus. Et nous… On a quand même réussi à indiquer clairement ce qu'on voulait. Et on a raté par une petite marge. Quelques dizaines de milliers de voix. Bon, bien dans un cas comme ça, qu'est-ce qu'on fait? On se crache dans les mains et on recommence." (Hey, we fought well. We fought well. And we… We have still managed to show clearly what we wanted. And we missed by a small margin. Only a few tens of thousand of votes. Well, in such a case, what do we do? We spit in our hands and start again.)
New cheers followed. In the Office, the atmosphere was still tense, but Rosa felt these last words were better welcomed.
"J'aurais bien voulu… J'aurais bien voulu que ça passe. J'aurais tellement voulu comme vous tous que ça passe. On était si proche du pays. Bon, c'est retardé un peu. Pas longtemps. Pas longtemps. On n'attendra pas quinze ans cette fois-là." (I would have liked… I would have liked for this to succeed. I would have liked so much, like all of you, to succeed. We were so close to the country. So, it is slightly delayed. Not much. Not much. We will not wait fifteen years this time.)
Cheers again. When the Prime Minister spoke again, his behavior, first looking excited, turned more serious, as if he remembered good memories.
"C'est quand même beau ce qui s'est passé. De voir dans les assemblées, l'une après l'autre, ces jeunes dont on disait que l'avenir de leur pays n'a pas d'importance, et qui venaient de plus en plus nombreux, en disant, le pays, on veut l'avoir. Et tant que les jeunes penseront ça, on l'aura, le pays." (It was beautiful what happened. To see in the gatherings, one after the other, those young people who we said about that the future of their country didn't matter for them. And who came, more each time, saying that their country, they wanted it. And as long as the young people will believe, we will have our country.)
New cheers and applauses.
"C'est vrai. C'est vrai." The Prime Minister struggled to place a few words as people kept applauding him. "C'est vrai qu'on a été battus. Au fond par quoi?" Later, Rosa would think that time had stopped for merely an instant. A brief instant, but one that seemed to stretch infinitely in her memories. Only, it would only be a future impression. For that night, there was no instant before the Prime Minister told the infamous words. "Par l'argent et des votes ethniques, essentiellement." (It's true. It's true. It's true that we have been defeated. By what? By money and ethnic votes, essentially.)
Rosa was stunned. It was as if she swallowed something the wrong way. She was petrified. Right as the Prime Minister kept talking, one of her colleagues walked away from the common room, back to her office, turning her back on the Prime Minister on the television. This woman was born in Quebec, but her parents had escaped Cuba after Fidel Castro seized power, becoming refugees. Rosa barely registered her leaving, and she barely registered the next words of the Prime Minister as she remained stunned.
"Alors ça veut dire que la prochaine fois, au lieu d'être 60 ou 61% à voter OUI, on sera 63 ou 64, et ça finira. C'est tout." (So this means, that the next time, instead of being 60 or 61% to vote YES, we will be 63 or 64, and this will be over. That's all.)
The remainder of the speech was meaningless. All that mattered now was the mention of ethnic votes. It was all that mattered. Everything that was said after, everything that was said before… All of that no longer mattered. All that mattered was that the Prime Minister, despite his call to remain calm, despite his hopes that Quebec would be a country someday, despite his call to not be discouraged, had put the blame of the defeat on the shoulders of cultural minorities. Cultural minorities to which Rosa belonged.
Rosa didn't know how she went back to her office. All she knew was that she was gripping the sides of her desk, and that her legs were shaking.
Someone cleared her throat. And Rosa knew what this meant. She looked at the small photo on her desk.
"The Minister of Magic, Marcel Beauregard, requests your presence for an emergency meeting in Quebec."
Rosa sighed. She wasn't in the mood for a meeting with her minister. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, after what happened tonight. But her minister gave an order, and she had to obey.
"Coming," she muttered.
She took her time nonetheless. She seized some Floo powder and threw it into her fireplace. She walked through, declaring her destination.
"Ministry of Magic of Quebec."
An instant later, she was engulfed into flames, and after a very long moment, she emerged into the entrance hall of her Ministry, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. An underground complex like in London, the Ministry was located under the National Assembly of Quebec, in the city of the same name. Its entrance hall was vast, and currently the site of two contradictory shows. At one extremity, the closest from the entrance, journalists from around the world were pressing a line of security guards who stood between them and a large team of spokespersons making declarations in several languages. Rosa had the displeasure to hear questions about ethnic votes, and not only in French. The news of the speech had already reached the wizarding international stage.
The other side of the entrance hall was calmer, but this calm bore heavily on whoever went through that space. The fireplaces were situated in this area, and Rosa saw other international representatives of her ministry emerge from them. She spotted her colleague from France, and another one from Sweden. There were also other diplomats who worked for other ministries from around the world arriving. And no one said a word. They lined in front of elevators, and they all waited for one to stop and bring them either to the Minister's office for Quebec delegates, or to the Department of International Relations for diplomats representing other countries. All the way up was spent in utter silence.
About fifteen minutes later, Marcel Beauregard, Minister of Magic of Quebec, stood at the head of a large table where his international representatives in Europe, North America and Oceania had gathered. Rosa was among them. Again, no one talked. The Minister himself looked uncomfortable as he broke the silence.
"Well… I only have a few words to say…" He took a deep breath. "Eighty-three per cent." He looked at each and every one of them, as if he defied them from saying the contrary. "Eighty-three per cent! That's the proportion of our citizens who voted for this Ministry to be their one and only Ministry of Magic." He touched the table with his finger to emphasize his words. "So, I need you all to make a statement. You all represent this Ministry in various countries. I want you all to go to the Ministry or Congress leading the wizarding communities where you are stationed, announce our victory and request that they recognize us. My office prepared an official declaration…" He waved his wand, and a series of portfolios flew, one landing in the hands of each representative. "… that you will give to the authorities of the countries you cover. Make sure to emphasize that our people made their wishes clear tonight, and that we will not accept anything less than full and total recognition and independence from the Canadian Ministry of Magic. We must get as many Ministries and Congresses to recognize…"
"What about ethnic votes?"
The question shut the Minister up. It was asked by Rosa's colleague stationed in Paris. And everyone looked at Minister Beauregard, waiting for him to answer, some with an almost accusing expression. The Minister took his time, then answered, staring in everyone's eyes.
"I guess you all know by now about the infamous speech the Prime Minister made tonight. I will make something very clear. Myself, this Ministry, the whole wizarding community of Quebec… Our position has always been very clear. We condemn racism and segregation under all its forms. The Ministry of Magic of Quebec has never supported any racist measure. From the very beginning, all our services have been bilingual. We even allow our students at the Université to study in English. And all that despite the fact that our community has been the victim of racism and prejudice for centuries now." He took another inspiration. "We do not support, and we condemn those words. And I remind you that these were the words from the Prime Minister of the Muggle government, not ours. And this is what you will tell if someone raises that question. Do not discuss this unless someone raises the issue. Remind them that our society has always and will always be totally open to other cultures. This will never change. And remind them that we were eighty-three per cent to vote for independence tonight. This is what matters."
His voice had gotten louder as he spoke. Then it lowered, and he resumed as if he was never interrupted.
"We need to make sure that specific Ministries and Congresses get our message. Johnson…" Rosa was always called by her family name at birth when she was in Quebec. She listened more attentively to what the Minister said next. "You need to meet the Minister of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland. Not the Head of his Department of International Magical Co-operation, not one of his assistants, not a member of his staff, not his wife… The Minister himself."
"He is unlikely to acknowledge our referendum," Rosa warned him.
"I know, but we have to make a statement with him. To make him understand that we are serious this time. And it is not his political position of one ministry for one Canada that will discourage us. He needs to understand this. Tremblay, you must meet the Minister of France. In western Europe, he's the most likely to support us. Kovalev, use your contacts in the Magical Duma of Russia. Since the beginning of the century, they have always respected the autonomy and independence of other wizarding communities within the Soviet Union. And the others in Eastern Europe, I want you to probe all their Ministries and Congresses there. Lituania, Latvia, Estonia, Belarus, Romania, Slovakia, Albania, Poland, Ukraine… Try to get some of them to acknowledge us. They're quite well placed to understand what we're going through…"
After a few more instructions, the international representatives of the Ministry of Magic of Quebec were all dismissed and returned to their countries. Rosa took the international Floo Network in the opposite direction, landing in her office covered with soot like always… face to face with one of her colleagues.
He looked thunderstruck at seeing her emerge from green flames.
"Ros…"
Before he could even finish to spell her name, her wand was out and pointed on him.
"Obliviate!"
All expression of surprise disappeared from his face instantly, and Rosa hid her wand before he could realize something. Instead, he addressed her as if nothing just happened.
"Rosa, I…" He seemed confused. "What did I come to tell you?"
"I guess it has some link with tonight's results," she retorted sarcastically.
"Yes, you're right. Ah! Yes, I remember. The boss wants you to contact all the cultural programs we are dealing with. To tell them that everything will continue as normal. He wants it done today."
"Okay." Something else she had to do. Having two people to answer to was difficult sometimes. She let herself drop into her chair and closed her eyes a moment.
"Tired?" her colleague said.
"Yes."
"Too bad we can't go back home. Morning is almost there."
"I guess we will sleep tomorrow," Rosa said, discouraged to a certain extent. The adrenaline of the night was slowly dropping.
She didn't know how long she remained with her eyes shut, rubbing them. But it seemed like it had been a long time when she reopened her eyes to see that her colleague was still standing there.
"Anything else?" she asked him.
"Well… You were absent from the meeting we had… We tried to find you, but…"
"I had gone out for a walk," she replied quickly. A lie, which she hoped would not necessitate her to throw more Memory Charms at her colleagues. "I needed to clear her mind." Something that would truly have been helpful.
"Yes. You were not the only one," her colleague replied, not seeming to blame her in any way. "I just need to tell you… After what the Prime Minister said… Well, you heard him…"
"Everyone heard him!" she snapped. She regretted it immediately. "Sorry." She didn't know if it was her own anger at being classified in a portion of the population being responsible for the defeat, or her anger at knowing how it would cause problems to the independence movement, but she felt an outburst of rage at thinking about those words. Ethnic votes.
"Well…" her colleague continued, embarrassed, "we are not to broach the subject, and to avoid it at all costs. And we must remind our counterparts that Quebec remains committed to participate in international relations…"
"Yes, I get it. We do as if those words were never said."
"Yes. For the time being, at least," her colleague almost reluctantly said. "Well, I'll leave you. I've got work to do as well."
Rosa nodded. After the door closed, she was again alone in her office. She knew that very soon, she would have to go to the Ministry, a task she wasn't eager to perform.
It had always been odd for Rosa to fulfill her role as representative for the Ministry of Magic of Quebec in London. The nature of the relationship between the Quebec Ministry and the Ministry of Great Britain and Ireland meant that she was often treated with indifference, sometimes with disdain, and even with hostility. What saved her, and she suspected that it was part of the reason why she was offered this position, was that she was a British citizen, married to a British wizard, and even had a daughter with him. She could use her status as a member of the wizarding society of Great Britain to have a minimum of consideration. Her sister-in-law also happened to be a highly respected member of the Ministry. But it also placed Rosa in a somewhat opposite position to her husband's family. That was why both she and Amelia avoided discussing the matter of Quebec's independence, though the subject was sometimes unavoidable. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement sometimes needed her when they had to establish a successful partnership with Quebec's authorities on international matters. Great Britain and Ireland couldn't simply ignore them on some matters, as the Ministry of Quebec prevented the Canadian Ministry from performing his role alone.
And now she had to confront the Minister of Magic, the boss of her sister-in-law. She hoped Amelia wouldn't have any problem because of that. Especially after Susan testified for Harry Potter at his trial. Things were harder for Amelia ever since. Fudge would not forget that the niece of his Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had caused his mock trial to go awry. She would need to handle things carefully. But knowing how Fudge was right now, and the stupidities he served to the wizarding community, Rosa failed to see how she could handle things quietly with such a man. And she feared the consequences of her actions not only on Amelia, who was able to defend herself, but also her daughter, Susan.
Rosa sighed. She wished that her daughter was there right now. It may look childish from a mother, to think of her daughter as the person who could make her feel better in those circumstances, but it was the case. To many people who didn't know her, Rosa's daughter might seem shy, but Susan had the gift to make her feel better when the situation was terrible, and from an early age when she was still a baby. Rosa couldn't believe that barely a month ago, her daughter had turned sixteen. She was less than a year away from reaching adulthood.
Deciding to occupy her mind with something, Rosa began to write a letter for Susan. They were still early. Perhaps their owl would manage to bring it to her in time for breakfast. Their family owl arrived just in time to take the letter, along with a newspaper Rosa just received, to Hogwarts. Then she left the Quebec Government Office in London by her fireplace, and she emerged into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland.
So soon in the morning, while the sun had not risen up yet, the atrium was almost empty. Very few people were visible. Of these very few people, there was a security guard at the entrance. Rosa could have avoided him and headed directly for the lifts. Security in the Ministry was very weakly enforced, a stupid stance considering the current danger posed by Voldemort. People were allowed to enter, exit and roam around the Ministry freely. The guard's role was purely administrative. But it was this administrative role that posed the largest threat to Rosa. Non-employees were instructed to register at the security desk. If they didn't and were caught inside the Ministry, they could face banning from the Ministry, even criminal charges. And since Rosa was planning to meet the Minister himself, she had to be registered, or else she could face trouble when they met. As a representative of another Ministry, she couldn't jeopardize her access to this place. So she headed for the security desk.
The guard had his face hidden behind the edition of the Daily Prophet. Rosa remained standing in front of him for a moment, but he didn't seem to notice her. That wasn't good.
"I come for a meeting," she announced. The guard almost jumped and cast a quick look at Rosa.
"Oh," he said in an uninterested tone. He quickly looked at the robes of Rosa, noticing the absence of badge. "Reason of the visit?"
"A meeting," Rosa repeated, irritated, and she didn't hide the irritation in her voice.
"Fine. Fine. Just wait a minute."
She got the same treatment as each time she walked into the Ministry. The employee quickly searched her with his instrument, then weighed her wand.
"Already came here before?" he asked, bored.
"Yes."
He unceremoniously gave her back her wand and impaled the parchment the wand weigher produced on a brass spike, without giving it a second glance, and returned to his newspaper. It seemed like the guard didn't notice who she was and why she really was here. This was no surprise. Representatives from other ministries or magical congresses were identified when entering the atrium, but since Rosa was representing a Ministry that wasn't acknowledged as such in Great Britain, it didn't show up on the registers. That gave her some advantage. And with a tired employee like this one, this meant that Fudge wouldn't know she was present. This worked to her advantage for now. She went to the lift and pressed the button for the first floor. The lift led her there immediately.
"Level One," announced the usual cool female voice. "Minister of Magic and Support Staff."
Rosa emerged from the lift… to come face to face with her sister-in-law. And unlike Rosa right now, Amelia didn't show any sign of surprise.
"I suspected I would find you here," her husband's sister said., lifting her eyes from a book she was reading before Rosa arrived. She closed it. "So, you come?"
Amelia walked away into the first level. Rosa followed her, skeptical, stunned to a certain extent. Rosa wanted to ask her sister-in-law where she was leading her, but she didn't dare to. A part of her was intrigued. And this feeling only increased as she slowly realized that Amelia was heading directly towards the office of Cornelius Fudge. They arrived in front of the door, an assistant sitting near the door.
"I have a meeting with the Minister when he arrives. I'll wait for him," Amelia said shortly. The assistant nodded and let her walk in without another word.
Rosa couldn't refrain a little smile from creeping on her lips. The authority of Aurelius' sister within the Ministry, even among the Minister's staff, didn't need further proof.
As soon as the door closed, Amelia sat down in front of Fudge's desk. "If you wanted to speak with Cornelius Fudge, then you have your chance now. But he's only going to arrive in about an hour. We have time to talk in the meantime," she told Rosa.
Rosa appreciated the gesture, but this worried her a little at the same time. "Won't you have trouble for that? He will understand that you let me into his office."
As much as Rosa enjoyed receiving help from her husband's sister, both had a very long time ago agreed to not cause problems to the other through their work. And considering the current ambiance at the Ministry, this wasn't the time for Amelia to put Fudge on her back.
"He will, and he may not be happy first. But the alternative was letting you intercept him in the corridors of the Ministry, eventually humiliating him in front of employees, his staff, and maybe even a journalist who sneaked inside the place. Instead, your meeting will be calm and out of eyesight. Fudge will come to realize I actually helped him."
Rosa recognized Amelia's political acumen. As much as her sister-in-law said she hated politics, she didn't hesitate to use them when necessary. Anyway, she would never have managed to stay at her position without politics.
"I suppose the night has been long for you," Amelia stated.
"The longest day," Rosa said, tired, as she let herself fall into a chair next to Amelia. "Or rather, the longest night."
"At least, no one died in that one."
Rosa pursed her lips into a thin smile. Aurelius sometimes failed to understand her Muggle references. But when it came to Amelia, it seemed like even a movie dating from over thirty years ago didn't escape her general knowledge.
"How are you?" Amelia then asked her, showing real concern.
"How do you think?" Rosa replied, bitter.
Amelia pursed her lips. "I suppose you listened to the speech." Amelia didn't need to say more. There was only one speech Rosa could think about right now.
"I believe everyone in Quebec heard of it by now."
Amelia nodded. Her face showed more sympathy than judgement. "I must admit that I wasn't expecting that. From what I learned about this Prime Minister, I never pictured him as a racist. He followed college studies in Paris, then in London, at the London School of Economics moreover. And his first wife was a Polish woman whose parents were assassinated by the Nazis during the Second World War, and who fought the Nazis herself. That's not really the resume of a segregationist."
Rosa was tired. She put a hand over her eyes and rubbed them, then yawned. "Maybe he was only frustrated or emotional, and he said the first thing that went through his mind."
She found that she didn't want to talk about this. The injury was still fresh. Furthermore, she and Amelia usually avoided talking politics between them. And Rosa found that right now, she wanted to stick to that rule.
"I wrote to Susan this morning," she said weakly. "I hope my owl will be in time for her breakfast." Something then came to her mind. "Thank you for intervening for her. With Umbridge and all that."
She never took the time to thank Amelia for this. Late times had been a nightmare with the approaching referendum. Rosa barely had anytime left for anything else. This all looked stupid and useless in retrospective, considering tonight's results.
"There are many things I can tolerate, Rosa," Amelia replied very seriously. "But someone threatening a member of my family… Especially my goddaughter… Never."
Rosa smiled at her sister-in-law, thanking her silently again. "I think… Susan wrote that students are now interrogated. And they are forced to collaborate with Umbridge."
" Educational Decree Number Twenty-four." Rosa noticed a point of exasperation in Amelia's voice. "Students are now compelled to participate to the examination process of their teachers. And I'm afraid Dolores is interpreting this decree very broadly. She's indeed questioning personally many students on their professors. And the decree made it a requirement for students to cooperate with her. I received some complaints from parents who believe my department had something to do with that."
"Does it?"
"No," Amelia severely replied. "My department was consulted, but nothing more. That decree is the work of the Minister's Office and the Department of Magical Education. My own department has more important matters to treat. We're chasing criminals. Our job is not to evaluate teachers' performance."
"Are you sure that Susan will not be bothered?"
"If she is, both Umbridge and Fudge are going to get news from me." Amelia was obviously deadly serious.
"Do you really think you will be able to protect her forever?"
"I will do it as long as I can. And… If we can no longer protect her from the Ministry in Hogwarts eventually…" Amelia hesitated. "I didn't think I would ever say that, but… Do you still have your contacts in Montreal?"
Rosa was surprised that her sister-in-law even inferred this possibility. "You really believe it could come to that?"
"If the Ministry ever makes her life more difficult and I cannot protect her anymore…" From the look Amelia sent, Rosa understood that this meant her sister-in-law's position at the Ministry was not guaranteed. "You may have no choice but to send her in another institution. You said that the University was ready to take her?"
"Yes. Though in the middle of the year… Maybe."
"If not, you still have Ilvermony. Or Beauxbatons. She could go to either of them."
"I suppose." Maybe it would come to that. Between the Ministry harassing her daughter and Voldemort's threat, Rosa was beginning to think they should have sent her to Montreal back in August. But she also didn't want to separate Susan from all her friends. And Hogwarts still remained a safe place… for now. The Ministry was doing its best to interfere in the school's affairs. Dumbledore was already sacked from various positions. What if they also managed to remove him from Hogwarts? Would the school still be safe?
"I'll keep that in mind." Rosa sighed. "This year is really not going well."
"No, indeed," Amelia confirmed.
She seemed lost in her thoughts for a while after that. Both women were. Amelia eventually broke it.
"I shouldn't tell you that, but I received a message from Canada yesterday. From Alexandra Tremblay." This caught Rosa's attention. Alexandra Tremblay was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the Ministry of Magic of Canada. "They're taking Dumbledore's allegations very seriously, if you see what I mean."
Rosa offered a faint smile. Finally, some good news tonight. If it could still be considered the night. "And here?"
"You know Fudge's position," Amelia stated.
"And it's not about to change," Rosa completed. They had gone from discussing Susan to talking about Voldemort. Not that it could be avoided, given recent events. "What about the investigation on the Dementors? Did you find something?"
Amelia seemed to hesitate. She promised to investigate the assault on Susan, but Rosa had no news of it since it began. But finally, Amelia talked.
"We found additional proofs that Dementors were present that night when Susan was attacked. I never thought she was lying, but now I have proof that not only she said the truth, she also didn't imagine things."
"Of course, she didn't imagine things! Susan is not a lunatic!" Rosa snapped.
"Rosa, calm down. I'm on your side. I have proof that Dementors left Azkaban the day before she was assaulted. And…" Amelia hesitated.
"What? What do you know?"
Amelia inhaled deeply before she answered. "Look, Rosa. I cannot tell you everything. Not right now. Know only this. Susan was attacked… and this attack… I believe it came from here."
Rosa was stunned for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I highly doubt this attack was ordered by… the other potential perpetrator. He has no interest to order such an attack. He does everything to keep a low profile right now. I mean that the order came from someone with the authority to order it. Someone with high authority."
Rosa's brain ran high as she absorbed what Amelia just told her. And she noticed how Amelia was pointing to the floor, a severe expression on her face.
"Are you telling me…" Rosa began, feeling rage rising.
"What I'm telling you is that for now, I don't know who gave the order, and I don't have enough elements to prove that it came from the inside. You must stay quiet while I find out who was behind all this."
Rosa opened the mouth to reply, but the door of the office opened at this moment. Cornelius Fudge walked in, with two employees Rosa recognized as Dolores Umbridge and Percy Weasley behind him. Amelia shot to her feet.
"Mr Minister," she said. "Sorry to ambush you this way, but I needed to talk with you early today. And I came across my sister-in-law who needed to see you as well. I believe you have already met."
Cornelius Fudge didn't react immediately. Rosa neither. She had met the Minister of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland on a few occasions. Most of the time, he ignored her. But today, she was intent on not letting him walk away. She stood up, the rage of knowing who might have ordered an attack on her daughter still very much alive.
"Mr Fudge," she said between her teeth.
The Minister looked at her, then to Amelia and back at her.
"I don't believe I set a meeting with you today, Mrs… Bones," Fudge said, hesitating on Rosa's name.
"No, Mr Minister. You didn't," Percy Weasley confirmed.
"Then in this case, perhaps it would be better for you to leave us, Mrs Bones," Umbridge said. "After all, the Minister is very busy, and he needs to attend several matters that are way more important."
"Very well, I will be quick," Rosa said abruptly, almost throwing a parchment on the top of Fudge's desk. "You will find in this paper the final results of yesterday's referendum, where eighty-three per cent of the wizarding community of Quebec…"
"I don't have time for this!" Fudge snapped.
"… where eighty-three per cent of the wizarding community of Quebec asked for the Ministry of Magic of Quebec to be their Ministry, and their only Ministry."
"I don't care! Get out of my office before I call security!"
"Mr Minister," Amelia then said, on a firm tone. "May I talk to you for an instant? This is urgent."
Amelia had an expression of warning on her face that seemed to convince Fudge. They went together in a small room inside the Minister's office. It was some sort of secret office within the office. They stayed a few minutes inside. In the meantime, Rosa found herself alone with Dolores Umbridge and Percy Weasley.
"Please forgive me, Mrs Bones. But I believe… I don't follow news in the Muggle world much, but… I heard that your Muggle counterparts were not as enthusiastic as your compatriots in the wizarding world." This was a stab from Umbridge. "Such a shame. It seems like your closer ties with the Muggles didn't help you in the end."
"The Muggles made their choice. We made ours," Rosa retorted. "We are both lucky that frontiers of the Ministries of Magic are not set by the frontiers in the Muggle world. I'm quite sure that all the inhabitants of the two islands would be displeased if your Ministry of Magic was to be divided between Ireland and the United Kingdom. And I'm quite sure they would be as displeased if Muggles in Scotland or Wales were to secede and that their Ministry was to be also split as a result."
Obviously, this idea didn't please the two people in front of her. "Unlike other places," Percy Weasley began, "the wizarding community of Great Britain and Ireland is united."
"Too bad your colleagues in the Canadian Ministry of Magic cannot say the same."
Weasley needed some time to react this time. "This is a Canadian matter. Not ours. These are Canadian lands, so this is a decision for the Canadian Ministry."
"A ministry that you recognize as the only representative of a divided community. And a part of this community voted to abandon this ministry last night."
"So you say," Umbridge cut. "After all, your ministry, the one you call from Quebec, who is not recognized by any legitimate entity, conducted this referendum, and we have no way to know that it wasn't tampered."
"There were observers from the International Confederation of Wizards who watched over the entire process."
"And I believe we all know that it is the Confederation that will decide whether these results are acceptable. And considering you decided to hold this referendum without the consent of the Confederation, without consulting them, and only because there was one in the Muggle world… I wonder how the Confederation would consider an illegal organization who follows Muggles' whims."
Fudge and Amelia from his private room. "Okay," Fudge said, unhappy. "Tell us what you came to say and let us be done with it."
"Thank you, Minister Fudge," Rosa said, as she noticed a slight surprise from both Umbridge and Weasley. She looked shortly at Amelia wanting to thank her, but her sister-in-law silently indicated her to talk to the Minister while she could. "Everything is in that paper." Rosa indicated the one she laid down previously. "As you will be able to see, the results speak for themselves. The wizarding community of Quebec wants its own Ministry of Magic, and it doesn't want to be ruled or represented by the one in Toronto."
Many Ministries of Magic were located in the capital, or one of the capitals, of the Muggle countries they covered. The one for Great Britain and Ireland was in London, France's was in Paris, Spain's was in Madrid, Ukraine's was in Kiev, Italy's was in Rome, even Quebec's was in Quebec City. But that was not the case for all. Canada's was in Toronto instead of Ottawa, Russia's was in Saint Petersburg instead of Moscow, China's was in Nanjing instead of Beijing, and even in Quebec, Montreal had been the first capital, before the Ministry moved its offices to Quebec City.
"As such, the Ministry of Magic of Quebec requests that you recognize it as the only Ministry representing and ruling the wizarding community living on the territory of Quebec," Rosa simply concluded.
Fudge quickly looked at the parchment. She doubted he read it entirely, for he put it back on his desk and never looked at it again. "Our position is, has always been, and will always be that only one and single Ministry of Magic is to rule the wizarding community of Canada. And there is already a Ministry of Magic there. We don't see the point in establishing another one."
"Minister Fudge…" Rosa began. But Cornelius Fudge raised his hand to stop her, and he interrupted her right away.
"I gave you freedom to tell me what you came for, and you did. Now, this meeting is over. I ask you kindly to leave."
His expression was shut. Rosa wasn't really surprised. She knew that Great Britain and Ireland would never recognize the Ministry of Quebec. Her colleagues in France, Scandinavia and the Baltic states had better odds. Still, she felt she had to say one last thing.
"There is something else I wanted to tell you. May I say it? Then I will leave."
Fudge seemed bored. "Very well. Say it."
"There is clear and real wish from the wizards and witches in Quebec to have their independence. You can ignore a problem, deny its existence all you want, that will not make it any less real. Nor will it lessen the danger it represents."
Fudge frowned at this. Rosa wondered if he understood that she wasn't only talking about the referendum, but about another, way more important issue in this country. An issue Fudge refused to face.
"Thank you for receiving me, Mr Minister. I will not bother you any longer."
And on that, Rosa left. She wasn't escorted to the exit, and she made her way through the first level back to the lifts, then to the atrium where she used Floo powder to go back at the Office.
The first thing she did when she came back was to send a message to Quebec, giving a summary of her meeting with Cornelius Fudge and the expected limited results it brought. However, she also included instructions to the Department of Canadian Magical Relations to inform the Canadian Ministry of Magic that the Minister of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland, their closest ally, had accepted to meet a representative of Quebec in his very office, which had never happened before. Such a message might create some friction between Fudge and his Canadian counterpart, but also signal to Canadians that even in the United Kingdom, people were beginning to change their behavior towards Quebec.
Rosa then spent most of the morning making calls, filling the responsibilities of her Muggle position. Since she was part of the Cultural Affairs Services, yesterday's speech was at the center of the discussions she had with her various contacts in the United Kingdom. Many people with who she collaborated on matters of culture questioned her on the openness of her government. This caused the discussions she had through the whole day to be particularly laborious. There was even a secretary of someone she tried to reach who called her a fascist. If only she knew how Rosa felt targeted by the ethic votes, considering she was an anglophone of Irish descent. At the end of the morning, the discussions extenuated her.
The Agent general, who led the Office, told all employees to go home around noon, judging the night had been difficult enough. But Rosa didn't leave. Right now, she was empty. And she didn't want to face Aurelius. Things had been difficult between them lately. Susan's attack, their worries about Voldemort's return, their concern for their daughter at school with Umbridge turning around her, and Rosa's extenuating hours before the referendum put strain on their family. And yes, a part of her was even worried to face her husband after what the Prime Minister of her homeland said. She even felt too tired to move back to her home, even by Apparition. She wrote a message to Aurelius, telling him she had too much work and would be back home tomorrow. She let herself down in her chair, allowing the exhaustion from the morning, the night and the day before wash over her. And she fell asleep.
When Rosa woke up, they looked to be in the middle of the night. She looked at the clock in her office. It was twenty-two past one. She really went through the day. With some sleep in the body, she felt her ideas were already more clear. She shook her head, thinking her stupid for not going back home earlier today. She raised from her chair, stretched and slowly left her office.
The Office was plunged into semi-darkness. And also in silence. Rosa wouldn't be surprised if she was alone. She headed for the exit. The common room was on its way, the room where they all watched the results of the referendum unfold, less than twenty-four hours ago. The television there was still opened.
Maybe Rosa shouldn't have looked at the screen. But she did. And she saw the Quebec Prime Minister, the man who earlier blamed people like Rosa for the defeat, walk forward and take place in front of a microphone. Petrified, unable to look away from the screen, Rosa watched as the man began to talk.
" Il y a sept ans, j'ai fait un pari fou. Le pari de reprendre un combat que plusieurs disaient vain. Que plusieurs disaient fini, foutu." (Seven years ago, I made a foolish bet. A bet to resume a fight many thought to be futile. A fight that many said was over, done.)
He said many things. He spoke about how the cause for independence had gained strength over the last few years, how people of all ages had fought for the independence of Quebec, despite the defeat of the first referendum in 1980. How supporters of independence made their way into the Canadian Parliament. How the supporters of independence managed to place their future country into a globalized world without frontiers.
" Et il y a une de ces frontières que, bien humblement, j'ai été incapable de franchir. Je n'ai pas réussi à faire en sorte qu'une proportion significative de nos concitoyens anglophones et allophones se sentent solidaires du combat de leurs voisins. René Lévesque s'était épuisé en vain sur ce même clivage. Gérald Godin avait réussi à se faire beaucoup d'amis dans ces milieux, mais bien peu de convertis. C'est pour moi une déception très grande, car je sais les efforts que nous avons tous mis depuis sept ans à transformer cette réalité. Cela explique aussi que j'ai pu, hier, formuler cette déception dans des termes qui auraient pu être beaucoup mieux choisis." (But there is a frontier that, very humbly, I have failed to cross. I have not succeeded to convince a significant proportion of our anglophone and allophone citizens to join the fight of their neighbors. René Lévesque uselessly exhausted himself on this division. Gérald Godin succeeded to make a lot of friends in those circles, but very few converts. This is for me a great disapointment, for I know the efforts we have made over seven years to change this reality. This also explains that I may have, yesterday, expressed this disappointment in words that could have been better chosen.)
This almost sounded like apologies. Almost. Rosa was still angry at this man. The man who led the fight for independence and who, in the last minute, rejected people who were not francophone, white and catholic. She still felt insulted. But those words still caused her to feel better. At least, the Prime Minister acknowledged that what he said was wrong.
He then spoke about the large participation to the vote. Over 93% of the population had voted in this referendum, which was exceptional not only in Quebec, but around the world. Then the Prime Minister declared that people of Quebec made it clear they would accept nothing but to be accepted as a distinct society.
" Les Québécois ont dit hier qu'ils veulent une véritable reconnaissance et qu'ils n'accepteront rien de moins que l'égalité. Il faut être clair ; hier, le Québec s'est levé debout. Il s'est levé pour de bon et on ne pourra jamais le faire reculer. Hier, le Québec s'est levé debout : il lui reste un pas à faire. Il a l'élan voulu, il en a la capacité, il ne lui manque que l'occasion. Elle viendra bientôt, j'en suis profondément convaincu. Comment ce pas doit-il se faire? Par où passe le chemin qui mènera au nouveau et inévitable rendez-vous avec la souveraineté? Ce n'est pas à moi de le dire, ce n'est pas à moi de le faire. Avec mes qualités et mes défauts, j'ai contribué à conduire ce grand projet au résultat du 30 octobre. D'autres, maintenant, lui feront franchir la dernière frontière." (Yesterday, the Quebecois said that they wanted real acknowledgement, and that they will not accept anything less than equality. We must be clear. Yesterday, Quebec stood up. It stood for good, and we cannot make it back down. Yesterday, Quebec stood up. It only has one step left to do. It has the momentum, the capacity. Only the occasions is lacking. It will come soon, I am convinced of that. How this final step must be taken? What is the way leading to the inevitable independence? It is not to me to say it. It is not to me to do it. With my qualities and my flaws, I contributed to lead this great project to the results of October 30th. Others, now, will make it cross the last frontier.)
And then came the one thing Rosa expected and at the same time dreaded, the thing a part of her hoped for while not wanting this to happen. The Prime Minister of Quebec, who was almost the only reason a second referendum took place, announced his resignation. He would remain Prime Minister until a successor was chosen, but he was leaving. He ended his speech by declaring that although he wouldn't lead the fight for independence anymore, people could count on him to support and participate to this fight.
Rosa watched, feeling empty, as the Prime Minister ended his speech. She should have left after that, but she then watched journalists asking questions to the Prime Minister. And of course, one of them asked him if he regretted the words he used the day before, if he was sorry for talking about ethnic votes. And unfortunately, Rosa was there to hear his answer.
"Ah non! Non. Encore une fois, les mots sont trop durs, mais ils ne changent pas la réalité des choses." (No. No. Again, the words were too harsh, but they do not change the reality of things.)
Rosa almost felt tears coming to her eyes as she heard those words. As she walked away, leaving the Office, not wanting to Apparate, she felt that she would not see a third referendum before she died. The Muggles had wasted their chance. All she could hope now was that the wizards of her homeland would manage to get what their Muggle counterparts rejected.
But something else bothered and frightened her. A few months ago, she had met the Prime Minister. She convinced him to take action against Voldemort. Now that he was about to leave, how could they be sure that his successor would take this threat as seriously as he did? The Ministry of Magic needed the collaboration of the Muggle government to be as efficient as possible in fighting Voldemort.
As Rosa made her way back home, she felt that the situation was not about to get any better.
I hope you enjoyed it. And for those that worry, this kind of historical chapters is not going to become common. I don't even have any other of this kind planned. I simply couldn't resist exploring that day from a potential wizarding perspective.
Please review.
Next chapter: Cho
Additional note: When I stated that every detail from the Muggle world happened as it is described in this chapter, this doesn't include events taking place inside the Quebec Government Office in London. I have no idea how the day of the referendum went down there, and there certainly was no Memory Charm cast on any of its employees.