Promises Defended

Chapter Twenty-Three: Light of Tomorrow

"Booo!"

"Get out of--"

"Go to Feng Du, Fudge!"

"Ladies and gent--" he was immediately drowned out by another bout of hissing and booing. Frantically, the little minister waved his arms, but he was ignored again, looking pale and pathetic behind the podium. "Please--"

"Get out!"

"Go home, traitor!"

"We don't want you any more!"

"Minister of Nothing!"

Bang. Bang. Fudge finally broke down and slammed the gavel into the podium. He squeaked: "Ladies and gentlemen, please! Let me speak."

The crowd growled, looking rebellious. Fudge shifted nervously, staring at the sea of a thousand-plus faces with wide eyes. No one had expected so many to turn up for a simple speech, even the four wizards who stood quietly off to one side, pretending that hopeful glances did not so often turn their way.

"Spit it out!" someone finally shouted, making Sirius snort with silent laughter. Fudge looked so uncomfortable.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he repeated in a shaky voice that no amount of political skill could sweeten. "I must strenuously protest the treatment I and my--"

"Is it true that the French Président refuses to deal with anyone other than James Potter?" Charles Li shouted.

"I--I refuse to comment on that." But Fudge's panicked expression gave the truth away. Instead, he snapped: "The inner workings of the Ministry are none of your concern."

"What about the rumor that the Aurors refuse to follow Dimwiddle?" another reporter interjected.

"Why, that's absolutely preposterous, Doris." Fudge managed to smile crookedly. "The Aurors are the most faithful supporters of the rightful government. In fact..."

This time, Sirius laughed out loud. He did not bother to listen to the rest. Doing so simply wouldn't be worth the brain cells Fudge's prattling would kill. Instead, he exchanged an amused look with Remus as Peter and James spoke quietly, obviously listening to what Little Fool had to say. Then again, those two were the politicians of the Marauders--Remus was just a teacher, and Sirius was...well, a bit of everything different. At the moment, he was the hatchet man. Next week he might be the glue.

Sudden booing made his attention refocus on Fudge. The Minister was trying to shout over the crowd again, waving his arms in a desperate bid for attention. But the crowd was having none of that--the "normal" audience was howling loud enough to make Sirius' head hurt. At first, he couldn't make out a word of what they were trying to say, but after a few moments the words solidified into a chant:

"Down with Fudge!"

"Down with Fudge!"

"Down with Fudge!"

The volume just kept growing. The Marauders stared in shock, and Sirius, Remus and Peter twisted to look at James as one. His hazel eyes were round with wonder. Peter got in first, whispering:

"This could be..."

Sirius just reached out and squeezed James' shoulder as Peter trailed off. "Hold your breath, Prongs."

"DOWN WITH FUDGE!"

"DOWN WITH FUDGE!"

"DOWN WITH FUDGE!"

-------------

"How do you feel, Lee?" Hermione asked quietly.

They were in the Hospital Wing again, surrounding Lee one more time. The other boy looked uneasy, and couldn't seem to bear meeting Harry's eyes. He avoided Ginny, too; she just stood off to the side and let him, quietly avoiding everyone's gaze. The moment was awkward.

"Better," he replied hesitantly. "Ready to get out of here."

"I hear Professor Tonks is going to be tutoring you," Hermione said brightly, trying to fill the gap that no one else was willing to breach. Everyone felt so strange.

"Yeah." His voice was a little dull, and she shot a reproving look at Fred and George. They knew him better, and they'd darned well better open their mouths and do something for poor Lee. Wasn't this bad enough already?

"We'll get you caught up in no time, mate," George put in obligingly.

"Besides," Fred chimed in, not quite sounding forced, "we can teach you all kinds of things that Professor Tonks never thought of!"

Everyone laughed uneasily, but Hermione supposed that was better than nothing. The gaps and the fears would take a long time to heal, but they would. Someday.

"It'll be good to have you back," Harry finally said, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Somebody has to keep these two from getting so many detentions in class. It's hard to pull pranks when they're busy scrubbing the walls for Filch."

"So you say," Fred interjected naturally.

"So he's right," Ron shot back.

"Pfft. What do second years know?"

Ginny snorted. "More than you, it appears. At least Harry, Ron, and Hermione don't get caught."

"And what about you, little sister?" George demanded. "Are you so skilled?"

"Me? The professors still think I'm the good Weasley," she giggled. "The angelic one."

"You? Angelic?"

She smiled sweetly. "I've never had a detention."

Which was far better than Hermione could say. For a moment, she pictured what her parents' faces must have looked like when they received that first detention notice, and pain welled up inside her. No. Don't think of that. Not any more.

Hermione swallowed hard, but no one seemed to notice her suddenly bleak expression. She banished it quickly, however, and went on with her life. Remember the good, she reminded herself. There is still happiness, and life does move on. I'm not the only one who has lost family, and I don't help anyone by feeling sorry for myself. She smiled as Fred pointed out:

"That's hardly a mark of honor in this company, Ginny!"

"It is when you don't get caught."

"You've been caught," Harry protested. "Remember that time when--"

"When Professor Sprout thought I was a victim of the notorious Misfits, yanked into your deceiving web and fooled by my own innocence?" Ginny cut in.

They laughed, and Lee finally smiled. Really smiled.

"I've got an idea..." he started softly.

-------------

February 12^th, 1993

MINISTRY SPY REVEALED!

by Keith Lindsay, Special Correspondent

MINISTRY OF MAGIC: For over a month, a top secret

investigation has been taking place within the hallowed walls of

the Ministry of Magic itself--the desperate search for the spy all

know lurks within the midst of our leaders.

Many expected a full-blown Death Eater. They looked for a

second Severus Snape, slithering and lurking through the top

levels of the Ministry and waiting for the perfect opportunity to

stab someone in the back. Ministry employees have been living

on edge since the loss of Hogwarts, waiting for one of their

own to turn out to be--irrevocably--one of He-Who-Must-Not-

Be-Named's most loyal followers.

They were wrong.

Abner Bode, head of the Ministry's Department of Mysteries and

the Chief Unspeakable, was chief of the investigation. "We

never expected to find a Lucius Malfoy in our midst," he states.

"But we knew that the Death Eaters had a firm and highly placed

conduit of information."

Interestingly enough, the Unspeakables' investigation runs back

to James Potter's tenure at the Ministry, and Bode maintains that

Minister Fudge had no part in identifying the traitor. Another

Unspeakable, who wishes to remain anonymous, bluntly

explains why:

"Fudge would have done nothing other than taint the process.

He can't keep his mouth shut, and he can't keep a secret. If we

had told him who we suspected, our case would have been torn

apart."

Bode, apparently, did not even bother to notify his legal superior

before going public with this information. According to him, he

was worried that Fudge would suppress the information.

And the answer? Deputy Minister of Magic Dolores Umbridge

has been a Death Eater collaborator since before Albus

Dumbledore's death. An undercover Unspeakable witnessed

her passing information to none other than Severus Snape, the

man often known as the greatest traitor in recent history.

Official sources at the Ministry refuse to comment on when--or

if--Ms. Umbridge will be tried.

"She's guilty as hell," Bode says flatly. "Guilty of at least four or

five different crimes, including the recent attack on Peter

Pettigrew and betrayal of the failed Azkaban Assault."

-------------

Fudge fled.

There was no other word for what he'd done--the Minister had simply up and disappeared. The day after his failed press conference, Fudge was gone. Repeated fire calls to his home had gone unanswered, and when ranking Minster Nathaniel Adams finally authorized Aurors to enter his home, nothing was found. Nothing at all.

The remaining Ministers banded together, took one look at the chanting crowd outside the Ministry, and did the only thing they knew to do. They listened to the crowd.

-------------

"James?" Lily called. "You'd better take this call."

"I'm busy!" he shouted down the stairs.

"Not busy enough," she replied flatly. "It's Adams."

James sighed, threw the others a look, and trundled down the stairs. He heard their footsteps follow him curiously, but he hardly noticed. He'd been too busy distracting himself, trying too hard not to think about the past several days. Had it only been seventy-two hours since he walked out of St. Mungo's, ending up making a political statement instead of just visiting Peter like he'd wanted to? Had it only been yesterday when crowds had started rioting outside the Ministry and refused to stop? James knew what had to be done. He was just surprised how simple doing so could be.

Moments later, he was staring Nathaniel Adams, Minister for Magical Games and Sports, in the eye.

"Yes?"

-------------

Less than an hour later, he Apparated to the far side of the crowd and started walking. They did not notice him at first; the riot continued, though this time with words he hadn't heard before--

"BRING BACK POTTER!"

"BRING BACK POTTER!"

"BRING BACK POTTER!"

"BRING BACK POTTER!"

Immediately, James regretted not having used the Ministry's Apparation Points. His ego usually wasn't so large that he needed to hear people cheer (he had grown up since Hogwarts, after all), but this time he'd felt that showing off was necessary--not so much for him as for those who had called him back. The crowd was clearly behind his recall; only a fool would think that Adams was responsible, and a fool James was not.

But now he wished he'd gone in quietly. Damn it if his instincts hadn't been wrong. People could see him later. He still didn't know for sure what was going to happen.

Heads started to swivel as James threaded his way through the crowd. Right or wrong, walking felt wonderful, and James was beginning to reacquire a bit of his old agility. Thankfully, magic had kept his muscles from atrophying, though his balance was still a bit off. Despite that, he managed to slip about halfway to the doors before the cheering started.

The noise washed over him like a tidal wave; for a moment, James felt as if it would throw him off of his feet. The crowd simply exploded, and hands reached out from everywhere to touch him, to pat him on the shoulder, to pump his hand. They were shouting congratulations, condolences, commiserations, and so many words that he could never hope to understand--James blinked hard, realizing that he'd stopped cold to stare at the outpouring of...of what?

Relief. Happiness. Determination.

More than one voice had shouted that they were with him; a short and blonde-haired witch right in front of him was saying the same thing. Shocked, all James could do was mutter "Thank you," force his feet to start moving again, and head back towards the job he'd once been so terrified of taking.

"Go get 'em, Potter!" someone shouted as James finally stepped through the entranceway, and he had to turn back to them, grinning. One wave and then he was gone.

-------------

"This is the last time I'll come here," Sirius said quietly, leaning on the doorframe again.

Grindelwald chuckled. "Have nothing more to learn from me, do you?"

"Hardy," Sirius snorted. "But if I don't stop now, I never will."

"And that frightens you."

"Of course it does. I'm still fighting against what you say I have become," he admitted without hesitation. A year ago, Sirius would have never said those words, would have been too proud to confess fear of anything. But he had learned a lot about fear since his escape from Azkaban, lessons he had thought would never need to be learned.

"You'll lose, of course," the other replied serenely.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Sirius shrugged. "But that's hardly your concern, is it?"

"Of course it is!" Grindelwald looked a little exasperated, tired of repeating himself. "Why do you think I have taught you, Sirius? The game must go on."

"Or die forever," he replied quietly.

Grindelwald shook his head, twirling a wand Sirius could not recognize between his fingers. "The greater game does not die. I thought you understood that."

"I'm stubborn, remember?"

The old wizard chuckled. "Yes, I do."

-------------

"Sorry I'm late," Ted Tonks said as he rushed into the Unicorn Group's newest meeting place. It was a small house on a Muggle hilltop that belonged to one of Tonks' many Muggle cousins, used only as a summer home, otherwise deserted and more than a little dusty. "I had to take a late afternoon detention for Sprout."

Molly Weasley heaved a long-suffering sigh. "What did they do this time?"

"Believe it or not, it wasn't your boys this time," Ted laughed. "Just a few Ravenclaws who'd grown over-enthusiastic in Herbology. Nothing serious."

"Oh." Molly smiled faintly. She hadn't attended meetings of the Unicorn Group in some time--family matters and then the death of Percy had kept her away--but Lily was glad to have her back. Despite her reputation as a homemaker, Molly was a sharp-minded witch, likely to poke holes in theories and find ways to do the impossible.

"Believe it or not, Molly, the twins aren't the worst of the bunch," Auriga pointed out. "At least they're funny."

Lily jumped in before the conversation could continue, catching the matching look on Julia's face as she did so. Julia tended to be the most sensitive of them to bringing up such subjects--Lily supposed that she felt guilty when they did so, being the sister of a Death Eater. Jack Pieters often acted the same way, especially after his sister Amanda had started openly serving Voldemort. It had, in fact, been damn near impossible to get Jack to even come to this meeting. He had determined that no one trusted him because of his sister's change of allegiance, and Lily had spent hours talking him into coming.

Now she just hoped that it would be worth it.

"All right," she started, clearing her throat. "Two projects for today. First, the finishing touches on Operation Clean Air. We've been testing and tweaking the Safe Return Spell for weeks now--it's high time we finalized it and moved forward."

"But we haven't tested it," Sinistra pointed out. "I'm no warrior, but I wouldn't want to go into battle against Dementors and use an untried spell."

"Nor would I," Lily replied with a slight sigh. "But unless you've got a Dementor in your pocket...?"

The others chuckled wearily until Julia spoke up. "As someone who has had a...bit of exposure to Dementors, frankly, I'd be willing to try anything in their presence. After all, what's the worst that can happen? Nothing?"

"She's got a point, Auriga." Ted shrugged. "Worst case, we fall back to the Patronus Charm. No harm done."

"Except several years of work down the drain," Jack added dryly.

"And the fact that it's not us I'm worried about," Sinistra said. "We're not on the sharp edge--if this spell fails, it's likely the Aurors who will pay the price, and they've lost enough already."

"That they have," Molly half-whispered, and everyone nodded. Lily swallowed, waiting a moment before speaking again. Everyone had to let the sadness pass first.

"Does anyone think we can improve the spell by waiting?" she asked pointedly, glancing around the room as heads shook. Auriga finally shrugged.

"If wishes were broomsticks..."

"Yeah," Jack breathed. "There's always that."

Lily nodded decisively. "Then we call Clean Air a success and move forward. The Dark Mark is next. Let's get to work."

-------------

In comparison to its Muggle equivalent, the Ministry of Magic had a fairly good record where stability was concerned. Although the government changed hands, change usually happened in scheduled elections, even in dire times. Voting was easy, after all--all a witch or wizard had to do was return the owl to the appropriate place on Election Day; the Ministry was always organized, and sent them out on schedule. Many reporters joked that the voting process was the only part of the Ministry that actually worked as designed, and they kept waiting for the system to break down.

Cornelius Fudge, of course, had found the only loophole. He'd not even bothered with elections, simply declaring that the State of Emergency (always capitalized in Fudge's case) negated the need for elections. So he'd clung to power for as long as he could, despite the laws that demanded new elections immediately following a Vote of No Confidence.

James had been too shocked, too wasted, to argue that point then. But now he was ready to demand elections and damn the consequences. He knew that he'd win, after all. All he had to do was run.

In the end, even Malfoy did not bother to run against him--Lucius' ego had been battered enough by Severus Snape's recent rise in the Dark Lord's service. As a matter of fact, no one bothered, and the write-in option on almost every ballot was left blank.

A few crackpots voted for the dead, of course (it happened every year). A few more foolhardy put Sirius Black's name down, and quite a few wrote in witches or wizards that everyone knew were dead, such as Albus Dumbledore, Glenda the Good, Dietfried Grindelwald, Willy Wonka, and Morgan Le Fay. But the overwhelming majority had decided to forgo jokes, disasters, and emergency powers. They wanted James Potter back.

On February 14, 1992 the votes were counted. By the time dinner rolled around, everyone knew the result. By eight p.m., James Potter was once again on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

"I have no pretty words to say tonight," he started bluntly. "You all know why I am here. You all know what I stand for. So I will only tell you what I am going to do:

"My selections of Ministers are as follows:

"Arthur Weasley, Deputy Minister of Magic.

"Peter Pettigrew, International Magical Cooperation.

"Lesley Dummingston, Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

"Abner Bode, Department of Mysteries.

"Grace Canning, Magical Games and Sports.

"Leigh-Anne Stover, Magical Transportation.

"Amos Diggory, Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

James took a deep breath, so thankful for the next words he was able to say. Never would he admit how hard it had been to put this team together, how hard the older ministers, Fudge's allies, had fought to keep their jobs and their slices of the political power pie. But he'd been determined to start with a clean slate, to put those in office who were willing to fight--James had learned the hard way that compromise with his opponents was not the way to go, and he'd rather fight the battles now than fight them later.

Later, after all, might never come if they could not act decisively now. He had learned that, too. James had no desire to repeat that lesson. Ever.

"And finally, Sirius Black, Magical Law Enforcement."

He knew that the Wizarding World sighed in relief with those words--not because Sirius was such an able administrator (because truth be told, he wasn't), but because Sirius was Sirius. He was the one man who had stood up to Voldemort when face-to-face with the monster, and had done so more than once. He was a symbol now, their shining star in the sky. Equally important, Sirius was a good leader--otherwise, James would never have brought him in to head the DMLE in the first place. Alice Longbottom was probably better at the minutiae of the job than Sirius would ever be, but she was back too, as Sirius' deputy.

The pieces were finally falling back into place.

James continued:

"Tonight we start over again. Yes, we have been beaten, but we are far from down--and if Voldemort thinks we are, he is sorely mistaken. This war is far from over, and we are far from out.

"Let this be a warning to everyone--and let them remember."

-------------

"So you're going back?"

"Of course I am." Sirius smiled, even though he knew the expression was a tad lopsided. "What else would I do?"

"Knowing you?" Julia smiled back, ever so slightly. "Anything."

"You know me too well."

"You'd better believe I do." She laid her head on his shoulder, and Sirius wrapped his arm around her. Spending time together had grown harder and harder since Julia's return--in many ways, she had to hide from Voldemort even more than he did. Especially after what happened to Peter. Sirius swallowed. Voldemort feared him, at least a little. But he did not fear Julia.

"So what now?" she finally asked.

"Well, you're going and I'm staying. There's little new in that," he replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He mostly succeeded.

Her voice was tiny. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be." Sirius sighed quietly. "I'm not mad at you. It's not your fault. I just miss you when you're gone."

"At least the trips are for a better reason now," Julia replied. "Something I can feel proud of, instead of a way to hide."

"Something we can both feel proud of," he corrected her, and then swallowed hard. "I don't know what I'd have done if you wanted to stay a Death Eater."

And I don't like admitting weakness like that, either. But that's what makes me different from Voldemort, and even from Grindelwald. I still care.

"Neither do I." She snuggled closer, and Sirius held her tightly, not wanting to let go.

"When do you leave this time?"

"In the morning. I promised Severus that I would visit him first, even though doing so is dangerous." Julia chuckled mirthlessly. "He told me not to, so I have to go."

"I'll never quite understand your friendship with that man."

"You do now more than you used to."

Sirius snorted. "That doesn't count."

"Oh?" she challenged. "Why not?"

"Because I used to be a prick," he responded judiciously.

"And you aren't now?" Julia shot back, and they laughed together. But the moment could not last--he was due at the first meeting of the new Ministry, and she needed sleep before Apparating halfway across Europe. Even though Julia planned to do so in stages, Long Distance Apparation was exhausting. Finally, Sirius had to say what was on his mind.

"I'm going to miss you when you're gone," he said softly.

He could hear her swallow. "I know."

"And when you come back," Sirius added, a bit hesitantly. "Because even when you're here...you're not."

"When the war ends..." Julia trailed off as her voice caught. "We'll still have time."

"What if we don't?"

It was the question neither wanted to ask, neither wanted to consider. Both knew what a miracle it was that they were still alive and still together. Ever since Sirius' return from the dead, they had been super-conscious of every moment together--and doubly aware of every moment apart. Now, however, they were both openly on the same side. They both were taking the same risks.

And their days together might be numbered.

"Then I suppose we have to be thankful for what we've had," Julia finally replied.

"I'm not," Sirius said abruptly. "Not thankful enough. Or maybe I'm just greedy, but I'm sick of playing games. Sick of hiding and sick of saying we can't when we can."

She pulled away to look at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean--and I'm putting this badly--James and Lily are rebuilding Godric's Hollow. The house should be finished by the time you get back, and this place is going to get awfully lonely." Sirius smiled very crookedly this time. "I mean, will you come here--and stay with me--when you get back?"

Julia frowned slightly; her sharp mind was too quick to add up the risks. "He might--"

"Forget the risks. Just this once," he cut her off. "We might not have much time, and let's use what we've got. Will you come here, for better or for worse?"

"Are you...?" Julia trailed off, her eyes growing wide.

"Let's take it one step at a time," Sirius whispered, squeezing his arm tight around her shoulders again.

A long moment passed before she replied, her smile soft. "All right," Julia said. "I'd like that."

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