Reconstruction of a Death Eater

The Wizengamot was in chaos; the current Supreme Mugwump Aramaus Morneloten was furious that the Ministry buildings had been all but destroyed with an absolute minimum of resistance from the Aurors who had been out chasing will-o'-the-wisps in Scotland. The Daily Prophet had dripped vitriol and scorn on their pathetic efforts, and some fool had taken pictures of Scrimgeour's error in removing the rubble which simply added fuel to the fires of humiliation the Minister was suffering. Pounding the traditional rock with his wand transfigured to a gavel he caused a shower of angry red sparks to fly about and sting the arguing delegates below on the floor. They jumped apart, their wands coming up defensively.

"That is quite enough!" he roared, to emphasise the point. "Because of the lack of response from the Aurors office we have been reduced to holding meetings in a warehouse leased from a Muggle importation company, and even more disheartening, the only person who made any effort to defend our majestic, former Ministry Building was killed in the attempt. And where were the Aurors? They had been ordered by the Minister for Magic to dash off on a wild goose chase for what was clearly a very good diversion created by the Death Eaters. Have I forgotten anything?"

"No, Supreme Mugwump," the multiple muted murmurs sounded from the delegates' throats, the mutterings of ashamed men and women looking at their boots.

Rufus Scrimgeour ground his teeth until his jaw ached, knowing the Supreme Mugwump was about to annihilate him with words and possibly an official reprimand, and it was not long in coming.

"When Rufus was appointed Minister for Magic, quite a number of this body expressed misgivings. A Minister who was also head of the Aurory would be a mistake. No Wizard can serve two such high profile positions efficiently, and so it has been proved. In the normal course of events, if the Minister ordered the head of the Aurory to strip the department and send all the Aurors on a single mission, the head of the Aurory would have said 'no, we must preserves a force to defend the Ministry, just in case.' However, that check and balance was missing because the two officers were one and the same and as a result we are left in a very dangerous position indeed. Muggle explosives destroyed a great deal of our housed records as well as our building. Repairing it will be a challenge, if we are not to alert the Muggles to our work. The dangers of our position have been highlighted, and I am compelled to act immediately for the good of the wizarding world."

The Wizengamot drew a deep bracing breath as the Supreme Mugwump stood up. "Rufus Scrimgeour, you have filled the role as Minister and the role as Head Auror with dignity and skill, but no man can work for two masters. Because of your past record and undisputed abilities, I am going to ask you to choose which of these positions you would prefer to hold and which you would relinquish, without favour or penalty."

There was a gasp then a sigh and Rufus stood up with what dignity was left to him, staring around the delegates with hooded eyes. "I am fully conscious of my failure to act correctly in this past crisis, and I do appreciate the Supreme Mugwump's faith in my abilities. I would prefer to retain the Head of Aurory if you would grant me such a boon, despite the results of my failure to separate the two positions in the past, and resign from the post of Minister for Magic."

"Resignation accepted, so it is said, so it is done," Morneloten said graciously, smashing his gavel to mark the change of office. "Thank you, Rufus; I am pleased to keep your services in a position where you have always been so very effective. I would like the Wizengamot to listen carefully to the next proposal. Many people have come forward and praised Arthur Weasley for his gallant rescue of most of the civilians trapped in the Ministry building by the Death Eaters. While he and his brave group of men and women will of course receive Medals of Valour - Merlins First class, posthumously, I thought - I would also like to propose Arthur Weasley for Minister for Magic."

There was a surprised mutter through the delegates, but they were willing to listen. "If Weasley was killed as Minister, then he would receive a state funeral, become a martyr to the cause and help pull all our people into a tightly-knit fighting force against these damned Death Eaters and their Lord Voldemort, who has had far too much power over our people in the past, and it's time we all did something about it. We are wizards, not worms to cower in our homes like craven cowards and hide our heads in the sand. Time to rally and toss out this cancer in our midst and why not use a brave man's sacrifice to rally the troops? The funeral will be lavish and his widow will receive a pension, of course, but it is a small price to pay for the repossession of our dignity. I propose Arthur Weasley for Minister for Magic."

The delegates roared agreement, many jumping to their feet to clap and cheer. Morneloten smiled benignly, catching Scrimgeour's eye and nodding as the man clapped slowly. So far, so good. "So it is said, so it is done! The funeral arrangements and medal ceremony will be held as soon as possible. In the meantime we need to appoint a Minister for Magic who will be able to lead us in this crisis, give us strong and capable direction in our fight against the evil Lord Voldemort represents. I call for nominations, the candidates to be announced at the Funeral."

As speculation rose and the delegates began lobbying for nominations, Morneloten signalled Scrimgeour and they both moved to the side office of the warehouse. "So, that put the cat amongst the pigeons," Rufus remarked as they sat down.

Morneloten sighed. "You made a mistake, Rufus, letting your personal feelings over-ride your responsibilities. I know how much you want Hogwarts as part of your jurisdiction, but it will not happen! Hogwarts, the castle itself, is almost alive and it will decide who holds the keys, and there is not a blind thing we of the Ministry can do about it. If someone stole Dumbledore's body then Hogwarts meant for it to happen. What did you find out?"

"Foreign magic was performed on the tomb; traces of what looked like a Timeless Bier spell, would you believe? It had been broken and some sort of resurrection spell performed, again traces of European magic and phoenix feathers...."

"Albus had a phoenix as a familiar, didn't he? You don't think...? Could he be alive still?" the Supreme Mugwump asked in horror.

"We are talking about Albus Dumbledore here, his magical signature is on file and if anyone comes in pretending to be him, then it will be easy enough to refute the claim totally," Auror Scrimgeour assured him grimly.

"And if the claim is proven?"

Rufus pursed his lips. "Quite frankly, Aramaus, I think I would cheer at this point, as dismayed as I am to say it. We need a Dumbledore as well as a Martyr, or we are going to fail."

Both men sighed deeply.

~~*~~

Ron and Ginny clung together outside the room where their mother was being treated for shock. An officious little man had been in the Headmistress' office when they had answered the summons, oozing unctuous pity and avid interest in their reactions to his news. He seemed angry that they were not delighted to find their father was being given a medal and a state funeral, a sniff of disdain hidden in Ginny's wail of loss. Headmistress McGonagall had bundled the man out into the Floo as fast as possible and offered tea and sympathy, all she could do in these circumstances.

Suddenly there was a flurry of robes as Harry and Hermione, newly liberated from the Room of Requirement, arrived, enfolding their friends in a comforting embrace. "We just heard," Harry murmured in Ginny's ear as he smoothed her hair and held her close.

"God, Ron, what can we say?" Hermione murmured as she was almost crushed by Ron.

A bright flash made them all start, Harry's eyes narrowing as an all too familiar green suit and vicious smile impinged on their grief.

"And here is the Chosen One comforting his 'little friend' in her time of grief. Tell me, Harry, how do you feel about being responsible for the killing of the Minister?" Rita Skeeter asked with a saccharine smile and narrowed eyes.

Ron roared inarticulately, the noise of his anger hiding Ginny's furiously snapped spell which hit the reporter between the eyes, knocking her off her feet and splatting her against the far wall. The sticky threads of spider silk wrapped themselves all over her, cocooning her tightly and hanging her feet first from the ceiling. The photographer's eyes went wide and he began to run, but Hermione's tangle spell caught him and sent him sprawling across the floor, Harry's foot stopping his camera from skidding into the wall.

"You now have two choices, refuse to cooperate and, oopse, a flat camera, or cooperate, destroy the photo and no flat camera."

"You can't muzzle the press," the photographer protested half-heartedly, but a glance at the struggling, muffled Skeeter said they could. He closed his eyes and shook his head then sighed and removed the film from the camera.

"Leave," Ron said flatly, pushing the photographer out of the door before all four young people turned to stare at their old enemy with eerily similar cat-like smiles. The cocoon of spider silk suddenly went flat and a slight buzzing sounded from the region of the stomach. A bright green beetle suddenly pushed its way out of a thin spot and careened around the room, evading their lunges easily. They could almost hear her laughing as the door opened and the beetle zipped out the gap.

There was an exclamation of disgust and a muffled crack as Harry threw the door open and all four tried to pile out together. The medi-witch in the corridor jumped when the concerted cry of 'no' made her flinch, but her foot still came down hard on the stunned beetle on the floor. "I don't know how these things get in here, we have charms on all the doors and windows," she snapped in disgust and ground her toes hard to be sure the creature was dead.

"Oh Good Merlin, you just splattered Rita Skeeter," Ron gasped while his sister and Hermione ducked back into the room with greenish complexions.

"What do you mean?" the woman asked puzzled, then teetered backwards as the residual Animagus transformation faded and the torn and bloody remains of the reported became human again. "Oh, oh my..." She staggered back and began to scream at the top of her lungs.

"That's one way to put it," Harry muttered, feeling for a pulse even though it was obvious there was none. "And another good argument against unregistered Animagi."

Ron made no comment past a slightly hysterical giggle.

~~*~~

The funeral was a complete and utter farce as far as any of the Weasley children could see except perhaps Percy, who revelled in the attention and ceremony. Charlie portkeyed in from Romania to be with his mother and was horrified to be called up to receive a posthumous medal on his father's behalf. All the usual ceremonies, the setting of the brazier and the burning of the hair had been taken out of family hands and put into Ministry care, the family all but excluded in the pre-burial rituals. When both Charlie and Ron complained, Percy told them not to be so parochial and to welcome the fuss as their father's due.

"After all," Percy sniffed indignantly, "Dad was not exactly a shining light at the Ministry, and he could not have expected such recognition in life. At least in death he does the family name some good and gets Mother taken care of...."

Whatever else he was going to say was lost as Ginny hexed him with a Petrificus Totalus and wouldn't release him until the Head of Aurors asked nicely. Even then it was touch and go until Harry soothed her frayed nerves with gentle care.

What Molly thought about the shenanigans was unknown as she had not spoken for days, still deeply shocked by the death of her soul partner. Ginny, supported by Hermione, who had consigned Lysander into Draco's sole care, led the older woman around like a large, animate doll and kept her safe during the farce of a funeral. The Ministry, taking her silence as consent, went completely overboard, starting with a full medal presentation featuring a marble bust and a flyover by the Ministry Broom Aurors.

The retiring Minister for Magic declared that, as sad as he was to announce it, he had resigned on Friday and they were waiting to announce Arthur Weasley's swearing into the post on Monday, but the Death Eaters had heard of the proposed appointment and struck before it could even be gazetted. Of course, the terrible accident to Miss Skeeter, had only added to the confusion.

The Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot droned on for nearly an hour, the eulogy more a campaign speech than an honouring of the dead. Charlie and Ron grew more and more agitated as the speeches droned on. Only Ginny and Hermione's firm grip on Charlie and Harry's steadying hand on Ron's shoulder stopped them jumping up and walking out. Finally, the speeches wound down and the real ceremony was allowed to continue, the elaborate burial of a simple man. People paraded past the mausoleum, all gleaming white marble and bas relief carving, a few actually making their way up to the stricken family to offer genuine condolences. Percy lapped up the attention, finally drawn away from his brothers and sister by a Ministerial-robed older man who wanted to talk about the upcoming appointment of the new Minister for Magic. His family were not sad to see him go.

A young woman with a support spell around her neck came up and bowed correctly to Molly, rather than the boys, her face truly sad. "My name is Sally Nobel," she introduced herself when Molly didn't seem to see her. "I was Percy Weasley's secretary, but I have asked for a transfer now. I was with your father when he died; your mother rescued me when the Death Eaters cut my throat and left me to die."

"Oh, I'm Harry, that's Charlie, Ron, Ginny and Hermione," Harry managed, offering a hand.

"I am sorry to intrude, but I thought I had better tell you that your father was a good commander and a great tactician. Despite the hoopla they are trying to pull, he really did save the day, and a lot of lives. He deserved the medal and the recognition of his valour although I think he would have been vastly amused by all this fuss."

Charlie half laughed as he took her hand and shook it solemnly. "Thanks for that, it makes this farce almost seem bearable."

Before more could be said there was another burst of Sonorus, then Supreme Mugwump Aramaus Morneloten made another announcement, again inappropriate to the funeral setting. "Wizards and witches, we are taking this opportunity to announce the appointment of a new Minister for Magic, contingent on his acceptance of the appointment. Constantine Clearwater is well known to many of you as a diligent and tireless worker for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a fair and incorruptible judge on the Wizard High Court Bench. In recognition of his incessant work for our people over the years we now announce his promotion to the highest civilian governmental position the wizarding world. Witches and Wizards, I give you the new Minister for Magic, Constantine Clearwater!"

There was a distinct pause, then a round of cheering swept over the gathering, very much out of keeping with the tenor of the occasion. The noise roused Molly just a little, and suddenly she wanted to go home. A medi-witch, who had remained unobtrusively in the background, came forward and nodded understandingly to the family before activating the portkey that would take her patient back to St Mungo's for further treatment.

~~*~~

"Constantine Clearwater? Well, that's an interesting choice," Albus Dumbledore commented as he sipped tea in his former office, surrounded by portraits who were rather pleased to see him on the whole.

"Interesting in what respect?" Minerva asked, offering another biscuit with a pleased smile.

Albus grinned and took two. "He is what you call a complete oxymoron, an honest politician. Over the years he has stood fast in the face of opposition and done his best to stop corruption completely disintegrating the authority of the courts. I think, Minerva, I really do think they have made a very good choice for Minister."

"High praise indeed," the Headmistress commented in surprise. "What will be our attitude to the man?"

"Cooperate with him," Albus replied without hesitation. "I don't think any of the shiny seat warmers realise what they have done yet, but on the whole, I think he will rally the wizarding population and we may even have a chance of winning this war after all."

Minerva nodded. "And what of your 'resurrection', when are we going to announce it to the world?"

"Humm, now that is a tricky one. As soon as the announcement is made, Severus will be in grave danger. It's one thing to say Severus killed me on my orders, Tom accepted that, but when I turn up hale and whole, he is not going to be happy, and the first thing he will do is lash out at Severus and possible Draco as they will have failed him."

"And Severus can't take another beating like the last one, he barely survived it. If not for the dedicated nursing of Molly's team and Remus' careful nurturing, he would still be a vegetable, a damaged hulk."

"Do tell, Minerva?" Albus frowned and composed himself to listen attentively to the older witch as she filled him in on the year and a half he had slept through. "Humm, I see. So, we need to keep Tom so busy that he hasn't time to question Severus' part in my death or resurrection? I think we should invite Con to tea, my dear, a meeting of the two power centres of the wizarding world to find consensus in the coming crisis, don't you? And perhaps we can introduce him to the Order at the same time; that should prove how much we are going to assist him in his struggle against Lord Voldemort."

Minerva giggled girlishly at the Headmaster's overly innocent expression and guileless smile as she toasted him with a teacup. "To the little bit of Slytherin in every good Gryffindor," she proposed, then rose to use the Floo.