Promises Remembered

Promises Remembered

The Sequel to Promises Unbroken

Chapter Four: Always the Choices

The Order had finally left Hogwarts, trailing out in ones and twos, and usually collecting their children along the way. Remus saw them all off, speaking quiet words of thanks to each and usually receiving a smile, or at least an attempt to do so, in return. A few of the older members of the Order, however, shot him suspicious and even bitter looks when they thought he wasn't watching, and Remus wished that he could say that it hadn't surprised him.

The entire Order of the Phoenix hadn't met for years. Dumbledore had kept the Order running smoothly and efficiently, but always in semi-secrecy. Most of the members hadn't even been aware of who the others were, unless they were members of one of the various groups Dumbledore had formed to deal with specific problems. Only the Inner Circlehad known all the workings of the Order, and even then, Dumbledore dealt with many matters himself. Remus was still feeling his way into his new leadership position, and every time he turned around, the headmaster found something new that Dumbledore had never mentioned. The fact that he'd had to gather the Order immediately didn't help; on one hand, Remus was floundering around in ways that he knew a leader never should do, but on the other, the Order was frightened, and if Voldemort was going to break them, now would be the time. So he'd had to act, had to get the truth out, and fast.

Now, however, he wasn't sure if that had been such a great idea. On the surface, everything had gone quite well...but underneath, he could feel the discontent swirling. And growing.

He shook his head to force the worries away, and suddenly noticed Dung watching him. They were alone in the Great Hall, now; Sirius was off meeting with the Aurors in private and Lily, Peter and Harry had gone to visit James once more. The Weasleys had been the last to leave, for which Remus was grateful; it wasn't that he didn't like the entire family, but he needed to get away from people who depended upon him to act like the secure and confident heir apparent of Albus Dumbledore. In short, he needed to be around people who knew him well enough to know better.

Abruptly, Dung chuckled. "You look exhausted."

"I am." Remus shrugged, not ashamed to admit it. "It's been a long day."

"A long two days, actually," his transfiguration professor agreed. "For all of us."

"And there's still a great deal to do."

"I know." Dung glanced around the empty hall. "I'm glad they're all gone, now. I didn't know the Order was so big. Not really, anyway. Seeing all the faces is different."

"Yes." Remus studied his friend quietly for a moment, pondering his words. The Order of the Phoenix did seem large in the confines of the Great Hall, but in the great scheme of things, it was really very small. Close to a hundred witches and wizards had gathered together for the last thirty-six hours, but in comparison to the rest of the world--or even to the numbers of followers that Voldemort was accumulating--eighty-five was tiny. And yet, at the same time, eighty-five witches and wizards was far too many.

"So what now?"

"We do what we have to do," Remus answered automatically, then stopped himself, snorting. I've never made a more pointless statement in my life, he reflected wryly. He half-smiled and shrugged, noting from the other's face that Dung understood. "I, for one, am glad that the students are gone...at least they'll be safe for the summer."

Dung's green eyes widened. "You think that Hogwarts will be his next target?"

"I think it has to be," the headmaster replied quietly, wishing that he wasn't so certain. The very idea left a sick feeling in his stomach,and by the look on his friend's face, the ex-Auror felt the same way. "Where else can he go? Voldemort has the upper hand now, Dung. A few more blows like the attack on the Ministry and we'll be done. It will be over, and we'll have lost."

"But--"

"But what?" Remus challenged him gently. "The Ministry of Magic was the most potent symbol of the light side's power after Dumbledore himself. Now both are gone--and Hogwarts is all that's left."

"And it's the only place he's tried to take and hasn't," Fletcher agreed in a tight voice. The transfiguration professor closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, nodding grimly. Then he frowned deeply, adding, "Unless he tries to take out St. Mungo's, first."

"Sirius is already working on that possibility," Remus replied. "But I don't think that's where he'll go next. I think he'll come here."

Even as he said the words, images flashed through his mind. He blinked, trying to categorize them, but the visions passed too quickly fore Remus to follow... Death Eaters. Dementors. The Hogwarts dungeons--screams.

Laughter.

He shivered. There was a whirl of images, of voices, and everything was moving too quickly. He couldn't even hope to comprehend what the visions meant before they passed--

Screams. Laughter. Darkness.

"Are you all right, Remus?"

He swallowed and shook himself. "I'm fine." Until that moment, Remus had no evidence to back up his suspicions about Voldemort's destination, nothing but logic and guesses...but now he knew. Voldemort was coming to Hogwarts. He had no way of knowing for sure when it would happen, but there was no longer a question of if it would. The realization made a cold chunk of ice form in his belly. He had so wanted to be wrong... "Attacking St.Mungo's will just make people angry, Dung," the headmaster continued, forcing himself to speak normally. "Even if he destroyed the hospital, and killed all the innocent patients there, the fear it caused would be balanced out by anger. Resistance would increase, not disappear."

Neither had the stomach to mention the fact that resistance was becoming harder and harder to come by after the destruction of the Ministry.

There was a long moment of silence before Fletcher asked very quietly, "Can you hold Hogwarts against him?"

He didn't know about the Font, of course, but Fletcher wasn't a stupid man. He knew that his headmaster had changed, knew that his connection to the school had grown deeper. It was a mark of his respect that Fletcher would even ask--Hogwarts had held out against Voldemort once before, but that had been under Dumbledore. In the darkest days of the war, the Dark Lord had tried to take the school, but had been foiled by the greatest wizard the magical world had ever known.

But Dumbledore was now dead, and Voldemort was coming.

"Yes," Remus replied after a moment. "If I have to."

Dung's eyebrows rose with surprise. "Are you certain?"

"I am." This time he did not hesitate. "Doing so will not be easy, but I can. And I will. Hogwarts must not fall."

The confidence in the headmaster's voice startled Fletcher almost as much it as startled Remus himself. He meant every word, but hadn't ever really thought of it in these terms before. He'd never dream about facing Voldemort on his own (even after his immersion in the Font, he was not powerful enough nor reckless enough to do so), but with the castle as his ally, he could stand up to the Dark Lord. Could, and would, because Remus knew he would have to do so...and he had an awful feeling that it wouldn't be long before that day of judgmentcame. The mere thought of Voldemort at his school was almost enough to make him shiver again, but the warmth at the edge of his consciousness stopped him. The castle was there, always there, whispering and adding to his senses. It gave him confidence to become something he otherwise would not have been: the bulwark between Voldemort and his students.

It wasn't in Remus' nature to rush out to meet a foe, to take on impossible odds and count on skill and power alone to bring victory. He would have always defended Hogwarts to the death, but now he was ready to step forward if he had to. No matter what came, he would face it, and he would be ready.

"You've changed, Remus," Fletcher said in a hushed voice. Fortunately, he did not ask why or how--by unspoken agreement, Fletcher and Snape had never asked. Only James, Sirius, and Peter knew, and that was because Remus could never hide anything from them. But other than that, the Font was his secret, and even his best friends didn't know about all of its effects.

"Not that much," he finally replied, chuckling softly. Then Remus smiled crookedly and changed the subject. "But speaking of changes...have you reconsidered my offer?"

Fletcher growled and glared.

"I'm serious, Dung."

"So am I," the transfiguration professor grated. His green eyes had darkened considerably, and nearly anyone else would have been cowed by the hostile glare that he pointed in the headmaster's direction--but Remus had known him too long. That, and he'd been prepared for the reaction that his question would receive...because it was the same response every time.

Despite his reputation for patience (which Sirius jokingly called sainthood), Remus wasn't above playing dirty. "We need you," he said quietly.

"No." Fletcher's eyes flashed. "Give the job to Snape."

"You know I can't do that." Remus met the angry eyes, and then continued levelly. "You can't hide forever, Dung."

"I'm not hiding."

"No?" he asked gently. "I think you are."

Fletcher rounded on him, fury deepening the lines on his scared face. "You have no right to judge me," he snarled.

"No, I don't," Remus agreed. "But as your friend, I would like to help you."

"Fine way you have of showing it."

But the headmaster ignored the bitter reply. "I know it's hard for you, and I know you want nothing to do with the Dark Arts, but you can't hide. Maybe you could before, but not any more. We need you, Dung. And it's not just Hogwarts now. The war isn't going to be a distant evil next year. It's going to be right on our doorstep, and I'm going to need you practiced and ready to fight."

"I seem to recall managing fine against the giants," Dung pointed out.

"That's not the same, and you know it," he replied.

"What's this have to do with the Dark Arts job?" Fletcher demanded.

"Everything. You're not the only person I need to be ready when Voldemort comes," Remus reminded him. "Those students are going to have to be able to fight--because no matter how much I pray they won't have to, they need to be able to defend themselves. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have teach them then you."

Fletcher sighed angrily. "May you rot in hell, Remus Lupin." Still, his voice was more conversational than furious now. The mention of their students had had the predicted effect--Dung knew what was coming, and more than anyone, he knew what would be necessary to meet that threat. No matter what else he was, Mundungus Fletcher was a strong man, and he knew duty when he saw it. "Fine. I'll do it. Just don't expect miracles."

"I never do."

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

"We've got problems," Jones declared.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

They were sitting in an underground area that stank of age and decay. It was one of the Aurors' oldest hiding places, a refuge to be used in emergencies only--but this certainly qualified as one. The Ministry was destroyed, and with it had gone the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement. To Sirius' knowledge, only a handful of people from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office had been able to get out at all, and the Hit Wizards were all dead, aside from two who had been out on assignment. But the Aurors had been hit the hardest of all. Out of a force that had once numbered almost ninety, they were down to only nineteen, and somehow he'd been elected to lead them.

No one had really said so, of course, but after the raid on Azkaban, their sentiments had been plain. No one had expected Sirius to step around that corner and face down Lord Voldemort--least of all Sirius Black himself--but he had, and in doing so, he'd accepted the fact that no matter where the war went, he'd be at the very front lines. It was a fact that he'd come to terms with in the past weeks, but the attack on the Ministry had thrown everything into confusion. James was no longer there to lead the Aurors, which Sirius had been more than willing to let him do. Now, there was Sirius.

"It's worse than you think," she replied flatly. Out of all the Aurors, Sirius was the closest to an "old timer" that there was left--and he'd been gone for a decade, locked away in Azkaban and hell. After that, Alice Longbottom was next in seniority, but Hestia Jones had taken on the role as chief of security, and there was something in her voice that made everyone stop talking and stare.

"What?"

"Fudge," she replied flatly. "I've got Kingsley with him now, but short of locking the fool away, there's nothing we can do to stop him. I know that you don't want him talking to the public, but he's already set up an appointment with the WWN--"

"You've got to be kidding me," Alice Longbottom grated. Her round face was thinner than usual, and pale. Like several of the others, Aliceshould probably have been in St. Mungo's, but she'd chosen to accept quick healing and check out. There was far too much to be done, and there wasn't enough time to do it in. And we wasted hours of it at Hogwarts, Sirius reminded himself angrily. Meeting with the Order had been necessary, but still...they'd accomplished nothing, aside from learning how very afraid everyone else was.

"What the hell is he thinking?" Bill Weasley demanded. Like Frank Longbottom, Adam Macmillan, and Jessica Avery he'd chosen to return to the Aurors, despite his experiences in Azkaban. Their presence that brought the small group up to a total of twenty-three--but that was counting Kingsley Shacklebolt and the two Aurors who were currently guarding James Potter.

"He's an ambitious bastard, that's what he is," Jones hissed, then half-shrugged an apology. "He's already talking about trying to appease Voldemort--"

"What?" Frank very nearly bellowed the word, and was echoed by nearly every other voice in the room. If there was one thing Sirius could be sure of, it was that there were no traitors in that room.

Jones nodded grimly. "He's aiming to be Minister and is hoping to get elected by promising to end the terror 'once and for all'."

"Only a fool would believe that," someone else pointed out.

"But everyone will want to," Alice replied quietly. Several people began to object, but she shook her head. "A week ago, we were riding high. We'd taken Azkaban and it looked like the war might be won--but now the Ministry's gone, Dumbledore's dead, and Voldemort suddenly has the upper hand. Think about how many people lost family members in the attack. They'll jump at the chance for peace."

"Which is precisely why we need to keep him quiet," Sirius interjected. "And out of politics."

Hestia snorted. "Impossible. Fudge is nothing but political."

"Actually, it may not be difficult at all," Sirius smiled slightly. "In fact, I've been in contact with all the acting Department heads--except for Fudge, of course--at James' request. Every single one of them has signed on to make James the temporary Minister of Magic, in light of the circumstances."

"Is that legal?" Bill wondered.

"Yes," Alicereplied before Sirius could answer. "In an emergency, it is. Though it won't last long."

"Doesn't have to," Sirius replied. "We can hold elections later. Right now, the important thing to do is shut Fudge up."

Jones snickered. "He'll hate it."

"Ask me if I care," Sirius retorted, and then shrugged. "All right. Fudge is dealt with--at least temporarily. But the reason why I called you here is really to deal with our other problems."

"We'll be here for the next few years if you plan on fixing all of them, Sirius," Frank commented dryly, and several others chuckled. Sirius, too, had to crack a smile. It was nice to know that, even in such dark times, they could still laugh. There wasn't a witch or wizard in that room who didn't fully understand the severity of the situation, or didn't know how very much they had to lose--but at least they could still laugh. Unlike so many in the Order, Sirius' people weren't shaking in fear. They weren't cowed, and they had no thoughts of defeat. They were only ready--grim sometimes, but ready--to meet whatever had to come.

"In that case, I'd like to make sure that we'll actually be around for the next few years," Sirius replied. He saw no reason to beat around the bush. "If we're going to make any dent in Voldemort's followers, we need more Aurors."

"That'll be difficult," Oscar Whitenack pointed out, speaking for the first time. "We don't have the Ministry's resources any more, or any of our old training facilities--"

"Except Avalon," Alice interjected sourly, and a ripple of emotion ran around the room.

To anyone else, her comment would have made little sense; even to the Magical world, Avalon was still only a place out of legend. These days, no one even knew if the magical isle had ever existed at all, but to the Aurors, that really didn't matter. Avalon had been their top secret training faculty for years, protected, hidden, and defended by some of the strongest magic known to wizard kind. The name had come, long ago, from a female Auror with an odd sense of humor--and an even more interesting sense of history. No one remembered why she'd chosen the name, but it had stuck despite several attempts at change over the intervening centuries. Their Avalon bore little resemblance in purpose or location to the Avalon of legend, of course, except for the fact that it was an island.

More to the point, it was an island that lay in uncomfortable proximity to Azkaban, which was why Avalon had been shut down for the last six years.

"You read my mind," Sirius said quietly. "We're going to have to move Auror Headquarters to Avalon, and tell no one about it. We don't have the old Ministry methods of screening candidates to fall back on, so we'll have to proceed carefully about who we bring to the island--and even once they get there, I don't want a single one of them to know how to get back."

Heads nodded, and he could see them all thinking. There were a few unhappy faces in the group, but they all seemed willing to listen, which Sirius couldn't help but worry about a little bit. He'd expected objections to basing so close to Azkaban (which, despite favorable reports in the Daily Prophet, he knew would be rebuilt quickly), but no one disagreed. Either they all saw the logic in the situation, or they trusted him entirely too much.

A chill ran down his spine, and he really hoped that it was the former.

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

Several hours later, Sirius was free of dark underground hideaways and in a considerably lighter environment. The white walls of St. Mungo's probably contributed to that sense, though--they could be called sickeningly bright without any exaggeration whatsoever. However, it was the company that made everything better, and for a moment, Sirius could almost forget that they were in the midst of a losing fight. He could almost convince himself that when he left James' hospital room he wouldn't be stepping into a dark world where they were inches away from defeat--and where he knew, in his heart, that he would have to be the one to end it all.

At the moment, though, all four of the Marauders were together for the first time since Voldemort's attack on the Ministry, and it was good to laugh. Lily and Harry were with them, and James' son was currently listening, red-faced, to Remus rib him about his attempts at secrecy.

"So, did you really think that sending the Weasley twins someplace obvious would distract me from the fact that you and Ron were nowhere to be found?"

Harry's blush deepened as Remus snickered, and Sirius grinned. It was good to see Moony holding his own, headmaster or not. "Well...it wasn't my idea!" the boy objected.

"Sure. That's what they all say," Peter laughed.

"But it was Ron's idea," Harry tried to defend himself. "And how were we to know that--"

But his father cut him off. "Harry, the first rule of pranking is--"

"Choose your allies carefully and don't get caught," the other three chorused with him, exploding into laughter. After a moment, Harry decided to join in, and Lily only shook her head, mumbling:

"How did I get to be the only sane person in this bunch?"

Sirius snorted. "You're not sane, Lily. You married Prongs."

"Hey!" Pale and in a hospital bed, James still hadn't lost his sense of outraged humor. "Look who's talking, Padfoot!"

"And you had the little Prongslethere..."

"Sirius!"

"I believe the proper term is a 'fawn', Sirius," Peter pointed out, straight-faced.

"Semantics." He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Utter babbling."

Lily fixed Sirius with a superior look. "Just you wait until you have children."

Sirius choked, and the other Marauders laughed. Quite heartily, actually, until Remus spoke for Sirius, who was still choking (albeit rather theatrically, but it got the point across).

"Padfoot? Children?"

"Puppies?" Peter added with a sly grin.

Remus snorted. "Only when he mates with Lassie!"

Sirius struggled to look hurt as the others laughed, but finally he joined it. A momentary image flashed through his mind, and though he found it very hard to equate Julia with Lassie, the thought was amusing. Despite the fact that he was sure Julia wouldn't approve... Ah, who am I kidding? She'd try to look offended, and then do the exact same thing I am. Laugh. Finally, though, the general hilarity died down, and Sirius seized the chance to turn the subject away from the thought of canines in general...lest he come up with something to say about Remus that really wouldn't be very appropriate for Harry's young ears.

"So, how about them Cannons?"

James snorted. "Sirius, you're an idiot."

"Tell us something we don't know!" Peter immediately quipped, and Lily raised an eyebrow. Remus, of course, only smiled and said in his damn calm voice:

"Pot calling the kettle black, James..."

Sirius sighed and turned to his friend. "I do believe we're outnumbered, Prongs."

"Outgunned."

"Abused."

"Outclassed."

Harry laughed; Lily shook her head, unsurprised. Valiantly, she tried to change the subject. "So, about the Ministry--"

"Outfought," Sirius talked right over her, smirking.

James' hazel eyes twinkled. "Outmaneuvered."

"Outfoxed."

"James--" Lily rolled her eyes, but her husband cut her off again. James' grin was now big enough to make the Cheshire Cat envious, and Sirius was glad to see him smile. As much as his friend had feigned lightheartedness during the past two days, Sirius had seen the shadows lurking within him, had seen the worries and the pain. Now, though, the buried fears were absent, and the real James had reemerged.

"Overruled."

"Overcome."

"Over--"

"Will the two of you ever grow up?" Lily demanded, seemingly to finally lose her patience. Still, her tone was half-amused and half-exasperated; she'd been around them too long.

"No." All four of the Marauders smirked.

Remus shook his head mournfully. "What a foolish, foolish question to ask."

"Come on, Mum." Harry rolled his eyes. "Even I know that!"

"I had to hope," Lily muttered, shooting a glare at her husband.

Sirius snorted. "Dream on."

"You were saying, dear?" James glanced at his wife, smiling innocently enough to make Lily snarl. Before replying, she punched him in the shoulder.

"I was saying that you're an immature and irresponsible husband!"

James reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, grinning impishly. His eyes sparkled. "Other than that."

"Oh, you're impossible!" But she smiled fondly, and Sirius saw their eyes meet with the same sickening sweetness that had been the couple's trademark for years. They have eyes only for each other, he thought with a smile. We should have known that it was over the day that Lily decided to stop hating James, but who would have thought that he would be right when he swore that he'd marry her way back in our fourth year? All in all, and despite the time that had passed, Lily and James were still the most lovesick couple that Sirius had ever seen.

"After sixteen years, I hope you'd realize that," James replied huskily.

Lily smiled softly, and Sirius saw the worries fade off of her pretty face. Their fingers were still intertwined, and the mushy looks on both faces were something that the Marauders had all seen before. Experience had taught Sirius, Remus, and Peter that it was simply better to wait these moments out--but that, apparently, was a lesson that Harry had never learned.

"Dad! Mum!" The eleven year old boy had reddened considerably, obviously embarrassed by his parents' antics. James and Lily tore their gazes apart and laughed.

"Sorry, Harry," James teased. "I keep forgetting that we haven't yet explained the birds and the bees."

Judging from the boy's intelligible sputtering, though, Sirius guess that certainly wasn't a problem. In fact, the opposite was more likely to be the case, and all the Marauders laughed as Harry's pink cheeks became bright red. He mumbled, "Dad..."

"I believe that I can answer your earlier question, Lily," Sirius interjected, taking pity on his godson and changing the subject. Immediately, he saw the joking expressions on his friends' faces disappear, replaced by the mature interest so many of their former professors had claimed they would never manage. Sirius hadn't had time to discuss developments with any of them; he'd come straight to the hospital from his meeting with the Aurors, and before that he'd been trying to fix the very problem he was addressing now.

"I've been in touch with all the acting Department Heads," he continued, then grimaced. "Even Fudge. But they all agree--except for our esteemed Head of the Department of Magical Catastrophes--that it only makes sense to appoint an interim Minister of Magic until we can get elections sorted out. Moreover, they all agree that it ought to be you."

James nodded calmly. They had all known that this was coming. "And Fudge?"

"Trying to shore up support for when the elections do come." Surprisingly, it was Peter who answered. However, as the acting head of the Department of International Cooperation (his superior's body had been found in the ruins of the Ministry), Peter was in the best position to know. "Almost immediately after I talked to Sirius, Fudge contacted me. He's been getting with all the Department Heads, trying to convince us that he knows how to best save the Wizarding world." The small man grinned.

"I told him what to do with himself, of course."

Remus nodded, chuckling. "I saw Molly earlier. The impression that I get is that everyone else has told Fudge the same thing. Arthur certainly did."

The resulting smiles were no longer so merry; they were darker and older, more knowledgeable and understanding of the harsh world in which they lived. For men like James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, it was difficult to understand why someone would try to turn such a bloody disaster to their own political advantage, but they had no trouble seeing the consequences of such actions. As children, none of them would have expected to be here, with the weight of their world on their shoulders, but they were no strangers to responsibility. They would always do what had to be done.

Lily suddenly twitched in her chair. "Speaking of Fudge..." Her eyebrows rose. "He's here now."

"Huh?" James frowned at the faux pas as Harry demanded:

"How do you know?"

Lily only smiled serenely and tapped her fingers lightly against her right temple. "Charms."

Remus whistled softly, and Sirius couldn't help but agree. Lily had always been talented in Charms, but she'd become absolutely phenomenal over the past years. Most significantly, she'd amassed her shocking skills without anyone noticing--Sirius knew that outside of the Inner Circle and the Unicorn Group, she was still viewed as only a pretty face and a caring mother. Few ever realized how powerful she really was because Lily preferred to work behind the scenes. The fact that she'd constructed invisible wards around her husband's hospital room shouldn't have surprised the Marauders at all, but the fact that she'd keyed the wards and defined them without using a physical focus was new.

"Lily, you never cease to amaze me." Sirius wagged his eyebrows at her. "In fact, if you weren't married to my best friend..." He trailed off suggestively, grinning.

"A shame, isn't it?" she laughed. "Too bad James got in first."

"Hey!" But the offended husband wasn't looking very offended at all.

"Not to mention the fact that Julia would kill you," Peter added with a smile.

"Quite." Sirius shrugged agreeably. "Alas, I'll simply have to--"

The door opened, cutting him off in mid-rant. Irritated, Sirius looked up, reminding himself that he was the one who had sent the duty Aurors on break. Then again, I did expect that any visitors would have the manners to knock. But he still made a mental note to take Kingsley's head off for letting them be surprised this way. Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge stood framed in the doorway, and the career politician's jolly expression wavered as he became the focal point of six unfriendly glares.

"I didn't know that you had company, James," Fudge finally said.

"And I didn't expect you to come, so we're even," Sirius' best friend replied offhandedly. "And it was so nice of you to knock." He paused as Fudge stared, then smiled. "But do come in, Cornelius. Please."

"Hem, hem."

Umbridge cleared her throat, and Sirius saw Lily bristle out of the corner of his eye. But James continued in the same falsely pleasant voice, acting like he was only noticing her for the first time. "Oh, hello, Dolores." He smiled. "I don't believe that you've all be introduced. Remus Lupin you've met, of course, but allow me to introduce Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and my son, Harry. Lily, you already know."

Sirius nodded to her, watching Umbridge's round face tighten. She hadn't expected to see them all, he realized; Umbridge and Fudge had hoped to catch James alone and... And what? Sirius resisted the urge to laugh. If either of those political flunkies thought they could browbeat James Potter into doing a damn thing, they were sorely mistaken. This might actually turn out to be fun, he thought sarcastically. Or entertaining, at the very least.

"Good afternoon," Umbridge finally grated. Sirius kept his eyes on her as James spoke; he didn't need to see his friend to know that James had adopted an innocently inquisitive expression and was acting like he hadn't a clue why they had come.

"So, what can I do for you?" James asked politely.

Fudge folded his hands. "I've come to talk to you about the political situation," he began briskly. "I understand that you've been having you friend here--" he gestured at Sirius "--talk to all the acting Department Heads on your behalf. While I admire his willingness to do so, I question what authority Black has to accomplish anything."

"He's the head of the Auror Division," James replied mildly.

"Oh--indeed?" Fudge frowned. "That's highly irregular. I'm almost certain that there are several other Aurors senior to him, which would mean that--"

"The Aurors are not a political institution. Their leaders are chosen from their own ranks and by their own colleagues. End of story." James' eyes became very cold. "Find something else to complain about."

"Hem, hem." Umbridge cleared her throat. "I believe that Mr. Fudge does have a point. There have clearly been several breaches of established procedures, and in times such as these, we cannot allow any doubts in the government's stability to develop."

Ah, there it is! Sirius sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. To his right, Harry was frowning indignantly, but Sirius saw Remus reach out and lay a hand on the boy's shoulder, calming him. Lily still sat next to James, her face woodenly expressionless, and Peter had a strange smile on his face. James, however, merely remarked:

"Of course not," he replied smoothly. "Nor can we afford discontent to divide us, especially after the Ministry's destruction."

Fudge smiled, and though Sirius was sure that the expression was meant to be reassuring, it reminded him more of a cow than anything else. "I'm glad that we agree," the politician answered. "In fact, that very subject is what brings me here today."

"Oh?" Somehow, James managed to sound surprised. Peter, however, didn't quite manage to repress his quiet snort of impatience. It's about bloody time, Sirius thought in agreement. Fudge, however, managed admirably at pretending that Peter wasn't even there.

"Yes. I came to let you know that I will support you as interim Minister of Magic." James' eyebrows rose with disbelief, but Fudge continued, "...On one condition."

"And that is?" James asked immediately.

Fudge smiled. "That you chose me as your Deputy Minister, of course."

He sounded so certain, so perfectly positive that James would jump at the chance. The smug look on Fudge's face was mirrored almost exactly on Umbridge's, and their satisfaction almost made Sirius laugh out loud. He stopped himself just in time, but not without shooting both of politicians an incredulous look. How could someone misjudge James so badly when James had such a reputation for being hardheaded and determined to do the right thing? Did they really think that political maneuvering would solve everything? After a brief pause, though, James replied in a very mild and concerned voice.

"I'm sorry, but that won't work at all."

"Wha--I beg your pardon?" Fudge stared at him blankly, and then regained his composure. "Why not?"

"I'm afraid that our political differences simply won't allow it," James replied earnestly, and Sirius had to resist the urge to cackle in glee. Oh, he had gotten good.

Fudge stared at him hard. "I would think that you would recognize the importance of political compromise."

"Oh, I do." James nodded. "More so, probably, than you think. But compromise isn't the same thing as chaining myself to a dead dragon, and with all due respect, Cornelius, working with you would be just that. I need someone who will work with me, not against me."

Fudge reddened. "I--"

"Want to be the Minister of Magic. You want the job more than I do, for that matter, but that's not the point. The point is that I'm not out for power, and all I want to do is win this damn war before it kills us all. But I don't have time to play the political game, so I'll have to decline your kind offer."

"In that case, I'll have to withdraw my support for you," the shorter man huffed.

"Do so as you wish." James shrugged. "I only need two-thirds of the Department Heads to approve me, anyway."

Fudge jerked back as if slapped, and behind him, Umbridge's face was pinched with fury. She stared to say something, but was cut off as her superior spoke angrily. "You'll regret this, Potter."

"Maybe." His voice was quiet. "Maybe not. If I do, I'll probably not live to appreciate the petty distinctions. Either way, I'll know that I've done my best."

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