Chapter 11: Politics and Albus

Amelia had dropped the papers off to Rufus and now was going to check on the diary that she had dropped off at the Department of Mysteries. She wanted to see what they were doing with it and if she had anything that she needed to worry about. She made her way to the room with all the doors and said, "Croaker." The doors spun and then stopped. She went to the door in front of her and opened it.

"What do you want, Bones?" the man behind the desk asked as he scribbled away with a quill. He, like so many in his position, hated filling out paperwork. It was the devil's invention, he was sure. Sure, the magicals didn't believe in the devil, but he's a muggleborn and was raised with Christian values.

"Just checking on that diary," she said casually as she took a seat. She didn't mind him continuing to work. She knew how hard it was to get all the paperwork done before the end of the day. She was lucky to have a clear desk by the end of the week. It was a weekly goal of hers, that was put on hold with the loss of her secretary. Sure, she could do the job without the woman, but Jackie made it much easier to accomplish.

"That was a right nice piece of magic you sent to us," Croaker said, putting his quill away. "The lads have had a fun time dissecting it. It took a bit, but we found out what it was. Do you know what a horcrux is?" he asked, looking at her as if to judge her answer.

"I vaguely recall the word and know it's evil, but I don't remember why," she said, racking her brain to remember the long-ago lecture. It was a visiting lecturer, and they were going over evil artifacts. She recalled it had something to do with a Greek man, Herpo the Foul or something like that. She remembered because he was also the father of basilisks. The fact that one was just killed brought that memory up.

"It is when someone splits their soul in half and puts a piece in an object. The diary you gave us is the first of seven that Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort, purposely created," he explained, taking up his quill again and marking a few things on the parchment in front of him. "We know there are seven because of a spell that we did. Unfortunately, two are in live containers, not including the main piece. We're not sure who or what."

That was going to be sticky. They didn't know what was going to happen to the live containers when the horcruxes were extracted. Hopefully, nothing, just a bit of bleeding. However, it could kill whatever was housing the vile things. All they knew was that they were moving and alive. One had even been in the ministry. The spell faded before they got a lock on the horcrux, but that did indicate that one was a human. He really and truly hoped one was not a person, but it was a long shot.

"That's disgusting," she exclaimed, shaking her body in revulsion. "Why would someone do that?" she asked, now remembering the lecture. She had had the same reaction then too. "Never mind, I remember. Immortality," she said, thinking hard on what this implicated. "Does that mean we have to hunt down the rest?" she asked, hoping that wasn't true. She'd do it, but there was just so much else going on.

"No, we have a way to call all the soul pieces together. The problem is we have to wait until the winter solstice. Either that or the summer solstice, but the winter works better," he said, continuing his paperwork. He was scratching his quill so fast Amelia wondered how he could hold a conversation as well.

"Would it be easier if you had the pieces?" she asked, wondering if she had the manpower to lend them some help if needed.

"It would, and we have leads on to where they are, but it isn't necessary," he stated, putting his quill down again. "If I could borrow two of your people, we can get at least two that aren't hidden in protected spaces," he added, thinking of the two that were in residential areas. They'd deal with the rest later. Having three here, might give the lads more to play with.

"Now that the muggleborn are better protected, I can spare a few," she said, thinking on who to send. Kingsley and Proudfoot came to mind. They were her two best and they had been stuck on babysitting duty for a while now. They might like something to stretch their legs with.

"Okay, have them come by tomorrow morning, and we'll go hunting. I need to get these filled out for the goblins," he said, grabbing his quill and filling out more paperwork. He knew one of the blasted things was in one of the vaults, but the goblins were being argumentative. They wanted to know which vault, which they didn't know and couldn't pinpoint. Hence, the need to fill out paperwork to examine all Death Eaters' vaults.

"I'll do that," she said as she rose and went to the door. She looked back, and he was busy writing away. She didn't envy him his work.

As she was leaving, she heard a young man scream and wondered who they were torturing. It was unlike them to do so, so she wandered over to where the screams came from. She came across a door with a window. There she saw them hit the diary with lightening that was cast from a wand, and a shade screaming in pain and then shouted at them to stop trying to kill his book. Seeing it was just a ghost of Voldemort, albeit a younger Voldemort, she went about her way.

Now she was going home and going to bed. It was just her and Susan now. Black had found a place for him and Harry. What with Harry's relatives in prison, Sirius had to take up responsibility for the lad. It didn't take the man long to buy a house not far from the Bones Manor. It wasn't a manor, but it wasn't anything to sneeze at either. Still, they were close enough that she and Susan saw them every other day or so. Harry was starting to warm up to Susan after she had sat her down and talked to her about what had happened at Hogwarts.

Susan then apologized to Harry, and all was well again. Mostly. Harry still didn't like Hannah, and the girl didn't like him back. Oh well, it was something the preteens were going to have to deal with.

Right now, all Amelia wanted was her bed.

Hphphp

Starchers was going strong the next morning. He had gone home the night before to get some rest in his bed. It was a luxury to do that since the start of the protest. He spent most of his nights holding down the area so that it didn't get snatched back by the purebloods. That and a twenty-four-hour protest was more substantial.

Now, he was back and there were more people there than when he had left. There were more children as well. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He didn't think it would stop the radicals from firing on them. He was now worried about the kids. Who would protect them if the bigots came back? Harry got lucky the last time, but now there were about ten of them running around, all about Harry's age or older.

The military was spread out around the atrium again, this time they were twenty strong. They all looked dangerous, which was a good thing. There were many ministry workers that were giving them a wide berth. They might not know what a rifle was, but they could see these people weren't to be messed with.

"Good morning, Harry," Thomas said to the boy when he joined him. "Who are your friends?" he asked, looking at the three children that were surrounding the boy hero.

"This is Hermione, she's a muggleborn, and Terry, he's a muggleborn too, and this is Justin, I guess they're all muggleborn," he finished with a chuckle, making his friends giggle or chuckle as well. "They came to help with the protest. Everyone, this is Thomas Starchers. He's the leader of this protest," Harry said, finishing up the introductions.

"Hello, Mr. Starchers," the three Hogwarts students said, grinning like loons.

"It is nice to meet you all. Are your parents here?" Thomas asked, looking around at all the strangers. There had to be over twenty-five new people here. He recognized Mr. Finch-Fletchley but didn't know the rest of them. He could tell from their dress that they were all from the muggle world.

Even the muggleborn that stayed in the wizarding world tended to dress differently than the muggles. Not as outdated as the purebloods, but differently in more subtle ways. The cloth was of different quality. It was made with magic, which took out all the imperfections. That and it was thicker.

"Yes," Hermione answered, looking at a couple talking to Sirius, not far from her and the others. "Mine are over there," she said, pointing to them. They were carrying a sign that said, 'My Daughter Deserves Equal Rights!'. "They're talking with Mr. Black," she added unnecessarily.

"I can see that," Thomas said, though not unkindly.

"Mine are over there, with Justin's dad," Terry said, pointing to his parents. They seemed to be in a heated discussion. He wondered what that was about. He knew his dad was very opinionated and would debate anything.

"Okay," Starchers said, glad they were not here unsupervised. "You kids stay near your parents. If anything happens, duck and hide," he instructed and moved to where the general was standing, out of uniform. "Stevenson," he said with a nod, in way of a greeting.

"Starchers," the man returned with his own nod. He had been talking to the other activists and was getting the plight of the ministry workers that were muggleborn and what they wanted immediately. They were willing to settle for better paying work, but he wasn't sure if it was enough.

He wanted for the Wizengamot to flaff off, so he and his can take over. They would sort out this cesspool right quick. They had been training to do just that for years. All it had to take was someone from the inside to ask for help. Thanks to Starchers for doing just that.

"You are protesting with us?" Thomas asked, happy to have him aboard. The more the merrier. The more their numbers swelled, the better that people would listen to them. They were already getting contemplative looks with Harry and Black being there.

"Of course, I am a muggleborn too," the general stated, chewing on an unlit cigar. He didn't smoke them, he just liked to chew on the ends. It was an expensive and wasteful habit, that he only indulged in when he had free time.

"Doesn't that conflict with your work?" the leader of the protesters asked, not quite sure how that worked. The man was being paid by the Crown to keep the peace and as a soldier. Wouldn't protesting against the government be contradictory? Could he lose his commission? That was the last thing Thomas wanted.

"What I do on my free time is my own business as long as it doesn't affect the government. This is pushing the envelope a bit, but no. Besides, I have orders from Major to see to it that you succeed, by any means necessary," he added as he leaned forward so that Thomas was the only one who heard the last part. Major had been very clear about that yesterday after the man had left.

"Does he believe in our cause that much?" Thomas asked, excited to have a politician on their side. Even if he was a muggle politician. He still held influence over the minister here. If he didn't then they wouldn't have to report to him.

"Don't think the man is doing this out of the kindness of his heart. It's politics. He and the Queen want the separation to be kept between the worlds. They don't want us out there interfering with the 'normal' folks. Why do you think they formed a separate branch in the Armed Forces? So that they had a crack team to use against the enemy? No. They didn't want the magicals mingling with the muggles," Stevenson stated, chewing fiercely on his cigar. While that was true, they did get a great company against magical terrorist. If only politics didn't get in the way.

"So, they are bias against all magicals?" Starchers asked, trying to grasp what was being said.

"No, not really. I mean, no more than they are against any other minority. They just don't want the two worlds to mingle in case of witch-hunting and muggle-baiting. For the peace of the nation, they feel it's better to keep the two worlds separate," George explained, though he wasn't really sure that's how Major felt. There were times that that man came off as condescending. Usually it was after he dealt with Fudge, so George forgave him. Anyone would be put off after dealing with that idiot.

"So, if he doesn't want us to mingle, who is he sending to clean up the government?" Thomas asked, looking around to see if anyone was listening. "I mean it must be muggles, right?"

"No, not muggles. Other muggleborn, mostly from my company," Stevenson said, a bit on the smug side. "We train them for every position in the Armed Forces, that includes leadership."

"Oh, well that's a bit of a relief," Thomas said, glad they didn't have to deal with more politics, he hoped. "I read that You-Know-Who might be coming back. We might need the military if that happens," the other man said, thinking that an army might be just what they need.

"Yes, I read that as well," George said in a grumpy tone, his cigar moving up and down as he talked. "If he does come back, we'll be ready for him. If Bagnold hadn't lied to the PM back then, we could have ended that war long before the Potter boy was born," he stated, his voice hard. He hated that it had come down to a baby to end the war. He had heard how badly the wizards had handled the whole thing. It was just pitiful that they had hampered themselves so badly.

"Oh, I had wondered why your people hadn't stepped in," Thomas said, it had kept him up last night for about an hour. If the muggles had this military company for so long, why hadn't they come and rescued them from Voldemort? Politics again. He, for one, was glad he was not a politician.

"Bagnold told Thatcher that she had everything under control and didn't need help from the muggles," Stevenson said, still miffed over the whole ordeal. Even though he had been freshly out of Hogwarts and had just signed on to the Armed Forces, he had wanted to fight.

"Well, you're here now, and if he comes back, you'll take care of him," Thomas said, and then changed the subject to the equal rights issue. They talked with the others on the picket line and the day went on.

Hphphp

Harry was standing by Sirius when a raggedly man came up to them. He was tallish, medium sized and had greying hair. His clothes looked like they had seen better days, for all they were clean and well pressed.

"Sirius," the man said, his voice broke with emotion. It was like he was trying not to cry.

"Remus," Sirius said, his tone was cold. He was not happy with his friend. His face and eyes were hard.

"I just heard you were out," Remus said, standing in front of his friend, trying to weigh his emotions. "I came as soon as I heard," he tried to express how he was feeling. His tone and face were soft, like he was sincere about what he was saying.

"Why? You didn't care the whole time I was rotting away in prison," Sirius said, turning a cold shoulder to the werewolf. He didn't care who was listening, they didn't care when he was in prison either.

"Sirius, I thought you betrayed James and killed Peter," Remus tried to reason. "My whole circle of friends was gone," he added, thinking about those dark times. It had been one blow after another that day. First James and Lily dead, then Peter dead, then Sirius in prison. It was too much for him. He fled.

"It's the fact that you thought I betrayed James or that I could kill anyone that riles me up so much," the dogman said, turning back to his friend. There was heat in his tone now. He was extremely upset by this.

"You sent a teenager to his death at the age of sixteen," the werewolf rebutted. It had taken years to get over that fact. Severus never got over it. He knew that much.

"If he was stupid enough to seek out a werewolf on the night of a full moon, that is not on me. I didn't think he'd be that stupid," Black retorted. He had thought that Snivellus had been smarter than that. Why did such an intelligent teen go to the Shrieking Shack when he knew there was a werewolf there? Only an idiot would do that. There were many things he could call Snape, but an idiot was not one of them.

"Nevertheless, you did that, so of course I thought you had it in you to kill," Remus said, then looked at all the people watching them. He had the grace to look embarrassed. They were having a private discussion in public. Not something he was prone to do.

"Sirius," Harry said, looking at his godfather, whom he'd never seen this angry. Not even when he was telling him about his Hogwarts years. Then again, that was all in abstract, this was in his face. He must really be mad at this Remus bloke.

"Harry, meet Remus Lupin. He was a friend of your parents," Sirius said, putting a territorial hand on his godson's shoulder. "Remus, this is Harry," he said, keeping his hand right where it was. He was making it perfectly clear that Harry was his to love and protect.

Remus noted the hand and nodded. He would not be fighting over the boy. Even if he thought that Sirius might need more time before taking care of a teenager. Or was Harry still twelve?

"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin," the ever polite boy said, holding out his hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Harry," Remus said, shaking the hand and then dropping it.

"How come I never met you growing up if you were such a good friend to my parents?" the innocent child asked, truly wanting to know. Padfoot had an excuse, but this man really didn't.

"I was told that you were well taken care of and that no outside interference was wanted or needed," Remus stated, understanding more of why Padfoot was angry with him. Obviously, the boy didn't have a good childhood.

"Oh, well, you were lied to," Harry said, still with an air of innocence. He gave his godfather a big grin and went back to the picket line.

"You're letting him protest for equal rights?" Remus asked, flabbergasted that Sirius would campaign for anything, let alone let Harry do it. The man he remembered was a live and let live type.

"Of course, it is important to him and the rest of the wizarding community," Sirius said seriously. He hefted his own sign, which still sang, and showed it to his friend.

"Only you, Sirius," the man said, looking at the flamboyant sign and chuckling. Now that was the Sirius he remembered.

"I still haven't forgiven you, but you can join us," the dogman said, ready to conjure a sign for his mate. He would forgive Remus in due time, he just needed to get over the feeling of abandonment.

"I would, but I might hurt the cause," the self-deprecating man said, hanging his head in shame. "No one wants a werewolf to join," he added, still not looking up.

"By Merlin, you still haven't grown out of that?" Sirius said, genuinely shocked. He would have thought that Moony would have grown a backbone by now. They were hitting mid-thirties, for Merlin's sake.

"I am what I am, and nothing is going to change that," the werewolf said, still in that depressing tone.

"You wuss, you need to grow some bollocks. Quit naffing around in skirts. The world is going to change in a short amount of time. This demonstration is just the start of that. You're going to be left behind if you don't man up," Sirius said, going back to the picket line and leaving a very confused werewolf in his wake.

Hphphp

Amelia was headed once again to Hogwarts. She got the notice that Albus was well enough to leave the infirmary, so she was going to arrest him properly. She brought with her four Aurors. Not that she thought he'd put up a fight, but he was once a strong wizard. She wasn't taking any chances.

They made their way to the Hospital Wing and saw a much-improved Albus Dumbledore. Oh, he still looked feeble, but he didn't look like he was on death's door anymore. "Albus, you're looking better," she said as she came to his side, her Aurors spreading out around the bed.

"Amelia, whatever can I do for you today? I have a school to run," the old man said, like he had not been tied to the bed for almost two weeks. He held up his locked-up hand expectantly.

"You are under arrest, Albus. Have you forgotten?" she said, unlocking the binds from the bedpost but keeping them on his wrist. She then helped him stand and cuffed both wrist behind his back.

"You are joking, surely?" Albus said, his tone completely dumbfounded. He had never been so affronted in his life. Arrested? Him? This could not be happening.

"No, I am not joking. You are under arrest for child endangerment, unlawful imprisonment, and a slew of other charges," Bones stated. She read him his rights as they made their way out of the infirmary.

"I can't go to prison. I must tend to the school," Dumbledore protested as they led him from the room. "Fawkes!" he called in desperation. Surely his companion would help him escape. All he ever did was for the Greater Good. He did nothing wrong.

Fawkes came to him and landed on his shoulder but didn't flame away with him. As if to say, I'm with you, but you must pay for your crimes. He trilled an encouraging song, but he didn't move from the shoulder.

Albus Dumbledore hung his head. Even his own bird thought he was in the wrong. There must be some way out of this arrest business. He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. He could not go out like this. Paraded before his coworkers like a common criminal.

"Albus," Minerva said, coming up to the party as they were leaving the castle. "The wards," she said, having felt them transfer to her.

"You will have to look out for the school until I get back," Dumbledore said, believing that he would return.

"I wouldn't count on him coming back, Minerva," Amelia said, walking at a slow pace to keep from tripping their prisoner. Why they hadn't taken the floo, she didn't know. Now that they were almost to the ward line, she was upset that she hadn't thought of it.

Albus spent the time they had walking to tell Minerva what was expected of her now that she had control over the wards. She took it all in and nodded in all the appropriate places. She knew this would be the last time Albus was here, and she needed to make sure that she got all the information from him.

"Worry not, my dear, I will be back," Albus said, once more before they were whisked away.