Harry Potter and the Unicorn Guild

Harry slept long and soundly, and woke up feeling as though he'd had a decent night's sleep - something he hadn't felt in months, not since long before the O.W.L.s. He stretched and yawned, glancing at his alarm clock. It was 7:00am - he'd slept well over twelve hours.

He stretched and yawned, remembering the events of yesterday afternoon with a warm glow. His first ever birthday party - and all his friends there to celebrate with him. His eyes wandered to the owl stand, upon which Hedwig sat, staring at him serenely. That owl stand really was an impressive piece of work - he wondered when Ron had learned to use those Muggle tools. Maybe Hermione had sent him a book that showed him how...

Hermione. Harry sat up with a start. He'd intended to write to her last night, but had completely forgotten amid the turmoil with the Dursleys. Hurriedly, he rose from the bed and sat down at his desk, grabbing a clean piece of parchment and a quill. He scribbled:

Hermione,

Thanks again for the birthday gift. The book looks fascinating and I can hardly wait to start it. It'll come in handy for N.E.W.T. preparation.

I hope you're feeling better today. Bill said that Dumbledore talked to you and explained things. I hope you understand why I have to stay here. And as I said, it's not so bad. Last night, Dudley was acting like a human being for once.

I ended up having a big row with the Dursleys last night and found out some things that sort of explain why they act the way they do. But I think I've finally reached an understanding with Vernon - if he leaves me alone, I'll leave him alone.

Can you come to Mrs. Figg's, maybe today or tomorrow, so we can talk about it?

Let me know.

Harry

When finished, he read the letter over and nodded in satisfaction. It'd do. He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg.

"It's for Hermione," he told her. She hooted once and flew out the window.

Harry went down for breakfast - where all the Dursleys ignored him, and he them. He returned to his bedroom carrying a few pieces of bacon rind, which he deposited in Hedwig's cage. He knew she missed eating from his breakfast plate as she did almost every morning at Hogwarts.

He pulled So You Want to Eradicate the Dark Forces: A Preparation Guide for the Auror Training Entrance Exams from his trunk and, flopping down on his bed, began to read.

He was so immersed in the book that he didn't notice when Hedwig swooped through his window until she landed on her owl stand and started hooting loudly.

"That - ruddy - owl!" he heard Uncle Vernon bellow from downstairs. Harry smiled grimly. "Let's see you come up here and start complaining, Vernon," he muttered, but he didn't hear Vernon's telltale stomp on the stairs. A few minutes later, the door slammed and Harry knew that he'd gone to Grunnings.

On Hedwig's leg, he found a reply from Hermione.

Harry,

Thank you for your note. I'm glad you like your gift - though I have to confess that I read it too, before I gave it to you. It's absolutely fascinating; I learned loads about the Auror exams.

I got a letter from Ron this morning, and he suggested that we Floo to Mrs. Figg's at two today to see you. How about if I Floo over at one? That way we can talk before Ron gets there. Call Mrs. Figg to check if it's okay, and if so I'll meet you there at one. If there's a problem, send Hedwig to me and I can let Ron know.

See you soon (I hope),

Hermione

Harry sighed, feeling immensely relieved. Good - he could talk with Hermione today and get everything straightened out. And he'd get to see Ron, too. This summer was turning out to be a lot better than he'd expected.

A few hours later, he arrived at Mrs. Figg's. His neighbour ushered him into the living room, where he found that Hermione had already arrived and was brushing soot off of her skirt. "Hi, Harry!" she said, brightening when he walked in.

"Hi," Harry replied. "Hey, I started reading the book you gave me this morning - you're right, it's really great."

"Oh, I know," Hermione said breathlessly, plopping down on the couch. Harry followed suit, sitting next to her. "Tonks says it's the best preparation guide there is; she said she never would have gotten through her tests without it, especially Stealth and Tracking, that's chapter six..." She continued in this vein for a few more minutes, Harry managing a word in edgewise now and then.

"So..." Harry said, when Hermione had finally run out of things to say. "You talked to Dumbledore, then? About the Dursleys?"

She sobered instantly. "Yes, I did," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I got so upset yesterday, Harry, it's just - it just didn't seem fair."

"What d'you mean, it wasn't fair?" Harry asked.

"Well - " Hermione looked uncomfortable, but she plunged on. "You're so - nice. You're brave, and loyal, and honest, and - it just didn't seem fair that you have so little where there are absolutely awful people - like Malfoy - who have so much."

Harry felt embarrassed yet oddly pleased. "Well... maybe... but he has parents. I don't."

"I know," Hermione said fiercely. "And his parents - well, his father, anyway - are the ones that helped kill your parents, and you have to suffer for it. It's just not fair."

Harry shrugged. "Life isn't fair, I guess." If it was, he thought bitterly, I'd still have my parents, and Sirius. "But, in a way, I'm lucky I had to live with the Dursleys, you know."

Hermione looked shocked. "How can you say that?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "it's something that Dumbledore said at the end of last term, when I was in his office after the Department of Mysteries. He told me about the magic that kept me safe with them, and he said - " He had to think hard to remember exactly what Dumbledore had told him; the events of that night were still a bit hazy. " - he said that he knew I'd suffered, but when I arrived at Hogwarts I wasn't a pampered little prince, like I might have been if I'd grown up with a wizarding family."

Hermione's hands fluttered nervously. "Oh, Harry, you wouldn't have - "

"Are you sure?" Harry said coolly. "For all we know, I could have turned out just like Draco Malfoy."

Hermione laughed at such a ridiculous notion. "That's rubbish, Harry, really, you're a much better person than he is, you would have never - "

"Maybe that's because I appreciate what I have, thanks to what I didn't have at the Dursleys'," Harry cut in. "If I'd grown up with a family like the Malfoys, if I'd grown up knowing I was famous, and knowing what I was famous for, maybe I'd be just as arrogant."

"You're being pretty philosophical about this," Hermione observed, not looking convinced.

Harry shrugged. "I've had a long time to come to terms with it. Besides, like I said - once I'm of age, I'm leaving. I have more than enough money to get my own place."

Hermione's eyes widened in fear. "But what about V-Voldemort? He'll come after you!"

Harry's eyes flashed defiantly. "I don't care. I'm not letting him stop me from having a normal life. And Dumbledore can't stop me, either," he added, anticipating Hermione's next objection. "He can put up wards or assign me a full-time guard, I don't care, but I am not staying with the Dursleys once I'm an adult." He cocked his head and considered a moment. "Okay, maybe I will for a few months, just so I can do some magic and scare the bloody hell out of them..."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded, sounding an awful lot like Mrs. Weasley, but she was laughing. "So," she said, still giggling, "you said you had a row with the Dursleys last night?"

"Yeah..." Harry said slowly, glancing at his watch. It was one-thirty. "Let's wait 'til Ron gets here - I don't want to have to tell this story twice."

"All right," Hermione agreed. "So, what did you think of Chapter 11 of the Auror training book - you know, the chapter about Useful Defensive Jinxes and Curses...?"

They chatted easily about the book for the next half hour, until the flames of Mrs. Figg's fireplace (magically enchanted not to burn hot, since it was a warm summer's day) turned emerald green. A moment later, Ron Weasley's lanky body appeared, spinning in the flames, and a moment later he tumbled out onto Mrs. Figg's ratty orange carpet.

"All right, Harry?" Ron said cheerfully, brushing soot from his jeans.

"Hey, Ron." Harry grinned and extended a hand to help his friend up.

"Hi, Hermione! I didn't think you'd be here already," Ron said to her, flopping onto the doily-covered couch.

"Oh, I decided to come a bit early," she said evasively.

"Did you have fun at the party yesterday?" Harry asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Yeah, it was great!" Ron said enthusiastically. "I knew about the Birthday Blazers, Fred and George developed them especially for your birthday, Harry; I just stocked them in the store this morning..."

In one of his first letters of the summer, Ron had told Harry that he was working as a clerk at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes for some extra pocket money. Harry envied Ron the summer job - not that he, Harry, needed the money, but he would have welcomed the extra interaction with the wizarding world.

"By the way, what's your mum think of your job?" Harry asked, remembering Mrs. Weasley's initial displeasure at Fred and George's joke shop. She'd seemed accepting of the joke shop yesterday, but somehow he didn't think Ron's mum would be too thrilled with Ron following in his brothers' footsteps.

"Oh, she's fine with it," Ron shrugged. "I told her it was just a summer job; I'm not going to make a career out of it." He grinned. "You should hear Mum now, though. 'I always knew those two had talent; after all, O.W.L.s don't necessarily measure intelligence. They only got three apiece but they're doing just fine...'" he mimicked, adopting a high-pitched falsetto to imitate Mrs. Weasley.

Harry snickered and Hermione, apparently torn between the hilarity of Ron's comedic antics and her prefect-like respect for authority figures (excluding Dolores Umbridge, apparently), managed a tight smile.

"Being a prefect has its advantages, you know," Ron continued. "She's so happy about that, and my O.W.L. scores, that she lets me do pretty much anything."

"Including using jigsaws and sanders," Hermione piped up, smiling at Ron.

Ron blushed. "Yeah."

Harry perked up at the mention of Ron's new hobby. "When did this start? Why didn't you tell me in your letters?" he demanded.

"There wasn't much to tell," Ron muttered, sending a bashful glance his way. "I just... was bored, and when I was helping Dad clean out his shed, we found his Muggle tools... and he taught me to use them... well, he tried, anyway..."

"...but I think we all know how Mr. Weasley is when it comes to most Muggle things," Hermione said, exchanging a knowing smile with Harry. "When Ron wrote to me, he told me about it and mentioned what tools he was using, so I sent him some books of my dad's."

"Good books, too," Ron agreed, "but a bit boring to read, as they were all Muggle... no moving pictures, you know."

"They helped, didn't they?" Hermione said, a bit testily.

"They were great!" Ron said hastily. "Really great!"

"All right, then," she said, folding her arms across her chest and smirking at Ron.

"It's stupid, I know," Ron said, half-apologetically, to Harry, "but I didn't know when you were coming to stay, and I was getting really bored... Fred and George have a flat in London now, you know, so it's just me and Ginny at home..."

"I think it's brilliant, Ron," Harry assured his friend. "Just brilliant. Honest."

Ron's ears turned pink, much like they had the day before when he'd given the owl stand to Harry. "So, er... what were you two talking about before I came?" he asked, apparently searching for a change in subject.

"We were talking about the Auror Training book, but..." Hermione said, looking questioningly at Harry, "Harry was waiting until you got here so he could tell us about the row he had with the Dursleys last night."

"You had a row with the Dursleys?" Ron said worriedly. "You didn't get in trouble for having us over, did you?"

"Sort of..." Harry said, and proceeded to relate, nearly word-for-word, the argument he'd had with Vernon Dursley. As he told the story, Ron's eyes grew wider and wider while Hermione emitted soft "Oh!'s" at regular intervals.

"Whoa," Ron said, shaking his head, when Harry finished.

"How awful," Hermione said softly. "No wonder they hate wizards."

"I know," Harry said. "It explains a lot."

"That's for sure," Ron agreed dryly.

Harry hesitated, wondering if he should tell them his conclusions about the prophecy and having to somehow defeat Voldemort with love. He decided against it; he wanted to think on it some more before sharing his thoughts. "We've reached a stalemate of sorts, though," he continued instead. "I leave them alone, and they leave me alone. As long as they ignore me the rest of the summer, I'll be fine."

Ron suddenly sat bolt upright. "By the way, Harry, what did Bill want to talk to you about yesterday?"

"Oh..." Harry said slowly, feeling his face and neck grow warm, "He just... uh... wanted to talk to me about... some things."

"What things? About the Order?" Ron pressed eagerly.

"No... other things." Harry said uncomfortably. He glanced at Hermione and his cheeks grew pinker. "You know... things. And he, uh... he gave me a book."

"A book?" Ron asked, his forehead furrowing. Beside him, Hermione's eyes widened.

"Let me guess," she murmured, flushing crimson. "What Every Young Witch and Wizard Should Know"?

"Yeah," Harry muttered as Ron let out a horrified yelp.

"You mean - my brother talked to you about that?" he exclaimed. He looked momentarily abashed, then abruptly brightened. "Well, at least it wasn't Dad. Or, for that matter, Mum." He shuddered.

Harry snorted. "That's for sure."

"My mum and dad got that book last summer," Hermione said, her face as crimson as Harry's Quidditch robes. "When they talked to me about it, I - I wanted to sink through the floor."

"I felt the same way when Dad talked to me," Ron said fervently. "That book was... interesting... though."

"Oh, yes," Hermione agreed, a bit too quickly. "Very interesting." Harry watched with amusement as the two of them looked briefly at each other and then swiftly looked away, each staring at opposite ends of the room.

"Well," Harry said a moment later, breaking the awkward silence, "Dumbledore gave me my Firebolt back yesterday."

"Excellent!" Ron exclaimed. "Is it okay?" he asked urgently, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"It's fine," Harry said. He told them about the Hurling Hex Umbridge had placed on it and the need for Madam Hooch's tune-up.

"Why, that - that foul old cow - " Ron said angrily. "After all she did, I can't believe she wasn't sacked from the Ministry!"

"She's still there? She's still Senior Undersecretary?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes; haven't you been reading the Prophet?" Hermione queried.

"No, not really," Harry said uncomfortably. He didn't bother to explain that, before his birthday party, he hadn't really done anything that summer except brood about what had happened at the Department of Mysteries.

"Well, she was sacked from Hogwarts, obviously," Hermione informed him, "and all of those ridiculous Educational Degrees were repealed. But she's still working at the Ministry."

"And does she finally believe that Voldemort's back?" Harry asked angrily.

Unexpectedly, Hermione giggled. "She - she admits he's back," she said, "but you should hear what she's saying about you."

"What?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Oh, it's pretty rich, mate." Ron adopted another high-pitched, girlish tone that sounded remarkably like the former Headmistress. "'During my time as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School,'" he drawled horribly, "'Harry Potter showed remarkable ability. I always thought that there was some truth to his story about You-Know-Who, as farfetched as it sounded...'"

"Does anyone actually believe her rubbish?" Harry asked, resisting the urge to laugh at Ron's mimicry. He rubbed his right hand absently; the faint white scars spelling "I will not tell lies," although faded, were still an ever-present reminder of Umbridge's tyranny.

Hermione bit her lip. "Well..." she said hesitantly. "The thing is... a lot of people are angry at Fudge for deceiving them about V-Voldemort's return. There's been talk about the Wizengamot holding a vote of no confidence."

"What's that mean?" Harry asked, looking from Ron to Hermione. Ron looked as clueless as Harry felt, and Hermione just looked worried.

"It means that if the vote is successful - and it sounds like it will be - there's going to be a new Minister of Magic," Hermione said in her exasperated "I-can't-believe-you-two-don't-know-this" tone (one that Harry and Ron had heard hundreds of times over the last few years). "For Merlin's sake, it's in - "

"Hogwarts, A History," Harry and Ron chorused together. "We know, Hermione," Ron added.

"Actually, no," Hermione said, looking offended. "I was going to say that it's in our History of Magic textbook."

The two of them simply stared at her. "I don't remember reading about it," Harry finally said, neglecting the mention that the only time he'd ever opened his History of Magic textbook was to find a name for Hedwig the summer he found out he was a wizard.

Hermione suddenly became inordinately interested in her shoelaces. "Well, it wasn't in the textbook, exactly... it was in a footnote," she said, not at all clearly. "But the point is, it's in there and you should know how the process works!" she rushed on.

"A footnote?" Ron said incredulously. "You don't just memorize the textbooks; you memorize the footnotes too?"

"I did some supplementary reading about the procedure because I was interested," Hermione said haughtily, glaring at Ron.

Harry decided to change the subject to avoid yet another squabble between them. "So, er, how does it work, Hermione? How's a new Minister chosen?" he asked loudly.

"Well," Hermione said, still frowning at Ron, "it's a fascinating process, actually. The Wizengamot picks the new Minister, although if the Wizarding public is unhappy with the Wizengamot's choice, there is a recall system."

Hermione cleared her throat and continued; Harry felt sure she was quoting directly from the aforementioned supplementary reading. "First there's a nomination process - each member of the Wizengamot submits a list of candidates that he or she thinks would be best suited for the job of Minister. If a name occurs on more than half of the lists, that person is automatically entered onto the short list of candidates. Usually, a list numbers anywhere from five to fifteen candidates. Once a list has been formed, the members keep casting ballots until the list has been shortened to three."

"What if there aren't any candidates in common?" Harry asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

"If there are no candidates in common - which is very rare, it's only happened once or twice in the whole history of the Wizengamot - then the candidates are selected via a majority," Hermione explained. "For example - if there are fifty lists, and the most times a single name appeared was on twenty lists, that name would be selected to go on the short list, and so on. For centuries, only members of the Wizengamot have been elected Minister; however, any of-age witch or wizard is a potential candidate."

Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that one of Mrs. Figg's cats had wandered into the living room and now seemed to be listening intently to Hermione. Hermione didn't seem to notice and continued her "lecture."

"Wait a minute," Ron interrupted. "D'you mean to say that Fred or George could become Minister of Magic?" He and Harry shared a laugh at the thought of those two running the Ministry.

"In theory, yes," Hermione said dryly. "In practice, the last Minister of Magic elected who was not a member of the Wizengamot was Edouard Nigellus, a very wealthy and prominent businessman, in 1497. He was summarily deposed three months later when was discovered that he'd used blackmail and extortion to convince key members of the Wizengamot to support his election."

"Sounds like a relative of Lucius Malfoy," Harry said darkly.

"Actually, yes, he was," Hermione said calmly. "He was a relative of Sirius', too." She suddenly looked frightened and glanced at Harry, whose face was stony.

"Er... go on, Hermione, then what happens with the election?" Ron asked quickly.

"Well..." Hermione looked uncertainly at Harry, who was studying his fingernails, "The final candidates are asked if they accept the nomination. If a nomination is declined, the top name from the discarded short list is added to the new, final, nomination list and so on until three candidates have accepted the nomination. These three are sequestered in a different room, and the members of the Wizengamot proceed to discuss and debate the abilities and experience of each candidate," Hermione continued. "Once the debate portion is concluded, the actual voting begins. The members of the Wizengamot use a guarded annex of the Ministry of Magic for the election process. Each voting member swears an oath to protect the secrecy of the election. This oath is magical in nature and carries severe penalties if broken."

"Like what?" Ron sniggered. "Do they break out in big purple zits that spell the word 'sneak'?"

To Harry and Ron's surprise, Hermione smiled smugly. "Yes. Well, not 'sneak' - I altered the spell for the D.A.'s purposes. I believe the word the Wizengamot uses is 'oath-breaker'. Also, the victim's mouth is magically sealed shut until the head of the Wizengamot performs the countercurse."

Harry's mouth dropped open; he'd had no idea that Hermione's idea for the D.A.'s jinxed parchment had come from the Ministry of Magic election process - nor that Hermione had the ability to perform what must be very, very advanced magic. He knew she could do at least N.E.W.T. level, but beyond that -

"I did simplify the spell for our purposes, you know, so it wasn't as hard to cast as it normally would be," Hermione said, almost as though she knew what Harry was thinking. "Anyway - as I was saying - the deliberations last for three days, and then the votes are cast by secret magical ballots. Before the voting begins, the members of the Wizengamot are literally locked within the walls of the annex, which is screened for magical bugging devices."

"We should tell them to look for beetles, too," Ron muttered, earning a grin from Hermione.

"Perhaps," she said sweetly. "The Wizengamot is sequestered from any contact with the outside world. Entrances are magically sealed via Imperturbable Charms and other methods. Once the Wizengamot is assured that the meeting area is secure, the voting begins. In the past, a Minister needed two thirds of the vote plus one to be elected, with no exceptions. In the 1896 election, however, the Wizengamot deliberated for three months and subsequently changed this rule so that if the votes continue to be unsuccessful for 12 or 13 days, the Wizengamot may agree by absolute majority, or half plus one, to elect."

Harry wished that Hogwarts students could select their professors the same way - if they could, he'd nominate Hermione for the new History of Magic professor. She was a know-it-all, but at least she made things sound interesting. And, he thought with amusement, Snape wouldn't be Potions master - he'd be relegated to a different job, perhaps assistant house-elf. With difficulty, he kept a straight face at the thought of Snape lighting the fires and making the beds in Gryffindor tower.

"Two ballots are taken each morning and two each afternoon until a successful vote is completed. After each voting session, the ballots are destroyed. If the vote is inconclusive, the Chief Witch or Warlock of the Wizengamot casts a special spell that causes silver sparks to appear in the fireplace of each Wizarding home. This indicates that a new Minister has not yet been elected." Here, Hermione paused to breathe before continuing.

"When the Wizengamot reaches a final decision, the final ballots are counted and stored in the Ministry's Hall of Magical Archives. The Chief formally asks the chosen member if he or she accepts the post of Minister. Upon the member's acceptance, the Chief sends gold sparks to each Wizarding fireplace, signaling a successful election. The annex is unsealed and the new Minister is announced to the Wizarding public via a special Floo announcement."

"Well done, Miss Granger," a new voice said from a corner of the room. "I doubt that Professor Binns could have explained the Ministry election process as thoroughly."

The three teenagers jumped in unified surprise at the sound of their Transfiguration teacher. "P-Professor McGonagall!" Hermione squeaked in surprise, staring at the corner of the room where, just moments before, a gray-and-white tabby cat had been seated.

"Potter, Granger, Weasley," McGonagall said, nodding to each in turn. "I apologize for the interruption, but I have a message for the three of you."

"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked politely, feeling a bit unnerved at his professor's presence in Little Whinging.

"There is to be an Order of the Phoenix meeting tonight, and it is Professor Dumbledore's wish that you remain for it, as some of the news concerns you," McGonagall said. "Mr. Weasley, your parents will be in attendance. Miss Granger, I have already owled your parents and they will not expect you home until later this evening. Mr. Potter, will staying here for the next several hours present a problem for your guardians?"

"No, Professor," Harry said, grateful for the excuse to not go back to Privet Drive.

"I didn't think so," McGonagall said, distaste ripe on her lips. "Order members should begin arriving within the hour." She nodded at them and began to walk out the door.

"When will Professor Dumbledore get here?" Harry asked after her, eager to talk with the headmaster about the Dursleys' revelation.

She turned, her emerald-green robes swirling around her, and raised in eyebrow. "He won't, Mr. Potter, as he has urgent business at the Ministry tonight. A vote of confidence in the Minister of Magic was held earlier this afternoon, and the vote failed."

Hermione gasped. "You mean...?" she said excitedly.

"Yes." McGonagall's lips creased in a grim smile. "Cornelius Fudge has been deposed as Minister of Magic."

~ end of Chapter 6 ~