Phoenix Intuition

Chapter Eleven

"Dudley!" said Arthur jovially as he approached Dudley's desk. "You've helped save the wizarding world from complete exposure. The Ministry thanks you."

Dudley glanced over, not seeing the man behind Arthur. "I kind of doubt it. I thought the Ministry couldn't tie its shoelaces right now."

"Well, that's true," allowed Arthur. "I thank you, anyway."

"I'm sure that Trent will express his appreciation on Friday by sacking me," said Dudley sarcastically. "It'll be at the top of his 'to do' list."

"You're probably right; it'll be great for morale," agreed Arthur. He stepped aside to reveal his companion. "Dudley, this is Jeffrey Atkinson of the Daily Prophet."

Dudley stood and shook his hand. "So, this merits a story?"

"It's part of the overall story, but yes," said Atkinson. "Even after what happened today, with such a clear demonstration of the value of what you do here, you still expect to be sacked?"

"I'm not optimistic," replied Dudley with a shrug. "He resented the extra budget Arthur got to create my position, it's no secret around here that he makes cracks to his aides about it fairly often. Once he's Minister, he can do what he wants. He also thinks that, as a Muggle, I shouldn't be here anyway. Arthur thinks I have value for my Muggle experience, but Trent's attitude is that Muggle-born wizards could be, and should be, doing this job."

"I think someone who's never lived in the wizarding world brings a different and valuable perspective to the job," explained Arthur to Atkinson.

"Trent, of course, wouldn't look at it that way," added Dudley. "He just thinks it's nepotism, since it would be if it were him doing it."

Colin spoke up from the other side of the desk. "I, on the other hand, think Undersecretary Trent is a great and farsighted leader."

Arthur and Dudley laughed. "He means, he hopes not to be fired on Friday," explained Dudley.

"Yes, I gathered that," said a smiling Atkinson. Colin introduced himself, and they shook hands. "Why aren't they having Luna do this article?" asked Colin. "She's been with us all this time."

"I'll talk to her later, get her input on this department," said Atkinson. "But she's very junior, not even a regular staff member, so they wouldn't assign her to a big story like this."

"I guess Colin's thinking that she knows how this works, since she's been here all this time," said Dudley. "But the more people know about this, the better. Pull up a chair." Dudley spent the next hour explaining the internet and its connection to the current fragile state of the anonymity of the wizarding world.

* * * * *

Later that evening, Dudley was having his biweekly visit for dinner with his parents. He and his father were sitting at the kitchen table; his mother was cooking and talking up a girl, a daughter of a friend. Naturally, his parents' main concern was her parents' income and social status, while Dudley wanted to know if she was attractive.

The doorbell rang, and Vernon went to get it. A few seconds later, a very surprised Vernon walked to the kitchen with a tall man in uniform behind him; Dudley and Petunia drifted to the doorway to meet them. "This is... Captain Martin Ingersoll, you said?" The man nodded. "He's here to talk to Dudley!"

Dudley's first thought was: think fast. Dudley had never met Ingersoll, but had heard about him from Harry. If Ingersoll was there to talk to Dudley, it had to be about something to do with magic. Dudley didn't know how Ingersoll had found him, but it had to be from the internet, and Ingersoll might assume Dudley's parents knew how he was employed. He had to make sure his cover wasn't blown.

"Captain," said Dudley pleasantly, in a tone that suggested they knew each other. He stepped forward to shake Ingersoll's hand. "Good to see you again." As he spoke, he gave Ingersoll a significant look. The message was, please play along.

Ingersoll was slightly taken aback, but recovered. "Yes, you too. I'm very sorry to disturb you here, but I somehow lost your cell number, and there's an urgent matter we need to discuss."

Dudley nodded casually, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. "Country comes first," he agreed. "Captain, this is my mother, Petunia, and you've already met my father Vernon."

Very impressed, both eagerly shook Ingersoll's hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Captain," enthused Petunia. "We had no idea Dudley worked with the good people in the armed forces."

"Doesn't tell us much of what he does, sad to say," added Vernon.

Dudley shrugged. "Security. You know how it is," he said to Ingersoll.

"All too well," agreed Ingersoll, clearly catching on. "Unfortunately, not everyone takes it as seriously as Dudley obviously does."

Dudley turned to his parents. "I think I know why he's here, and it's very confidential. I'm sorry, but we need to go upstairs to talk. We'll try not to be too long."

"Absolutely," agreed Vernon enthusiastically. "Take all the time you need."

"Dinner's not for another thirty minutes," added Petunia with a smile.

Dudley nodded. "Thanks, excuse us." He led Ingersoll upstairs and to his old bedroom, which Petunia of course kept immaculate, and closed the door. "Sorry about that," he said, keeping his voice low.

Ingersoll nodded. "What do they think you do?"

"MI5," said Dudley.

Ingersoll suppressed a laugh. "You are a bit young, though I suppose they have trainees your age. I guess they wouldn't care for your working for the Ministry?"

"To put it mildly," said Dudley. "I see you've been keeping up with the wizarding websites."

"Too interesting not to. Especially recently, seems like there's an awful lot going on. Quite chaotic."

"Unfortunately, yes," said Dudley. "But it's a lot like that in the real world, too. Some of us are wondering if they aren't connected."

Ingersoll raised his eyebrows, impressed. "That's the reason I'm here, in fact. I'm wondering that myself. It seems like the lines between what they call the Muggle world and the magical world are getting blurry. I read online about the attack that took out Hogwarts' magic, and then saw that picture this morning in the Sun. I've seen the place up close, I know exactly what it looks like. Just how close are you guys to getting exposed?"

Dudley almost objected to the phrase 'you guys', since he was a Muggle, but he did work for the Ministry, after all. "The next straw could break the camel's back. But only a few of us know it, and most can't be bothered to care."

"How can they not care? Don't they know what would happen if the world knew about them? It would make this current chaos look like nothing."

Dudley shrugged. "They're so used to being anonymous that they take it for granted, and they don't know about the internet. But yeah, it's dangerous. We dodged a bullet today, with that picture." Dudley went on to tell the story.

"Wow, very close. Well, part of the reason I'm here is that I don't want it to be known either. Like I said, I don't like to think about what would happen. But something's up that I think the magical community needs to know about, and you're the perfect person to tell, working for the Ministry."

"Well, perfect in the sense that I'll understand what you're talking about. Not perfect in that no one at the Ministry except my partner and my boss will care. But go ahead anyway."

"They'd better care, or else it'll be too late at some point soon," said Ingersoll darkly. "But on to why I'm here. First of all, I need to emphasize that what I'm about to tell you is so top secret that if it were discovered that I told you, the best job I could get after I was dishonorably discharged would be at a hamburger joint, assuming I don't end up in prison. But you need to know this.

"I've spent some time in Iraq, it shouldn't surprise you to hear. Special Forces, you know, there's a lot we can do there. Some of it's fighting the insurgency, but not that much; as you know, we Brits get the easier areas because political support for our presence is tenuous, to say the least. Our population wouldn't put up with a tenth the casualties the Americans do. It also shouldn't surprise you that we in Special Forces have, especially when deployed in a place like Iraq, some contact with MI6. We help them, they help us. To make a long story short, they have an asset, a double agent who works for Iranian intelligence. They've had him for a while, long before any of this happened, before nine-eleven. He doesn't like the religious zealots running his country. MI6 is very sure of his true loyalty, he's done a lot for them. He's been helping these days with what information he can get about the insurgents and Iran's relationship with them.

"Apparently, he knows the 'Death To America' man, personally. Not that they're friends, but they were colleagues, they worked together. First of all, our agent says Mr. Death-To-America was no zealot, and very much not the type to do anything like that. Especially martyring himself. Uneducated kids may do that; professional spies don't. But what's even stranger is that our agent saw Mr. Death-To-America, in the flesh, in Tehran, literally three hours before the sarin gas attack. He's absolutely sure. Three hours! There's no way in hell anyone could make it from Iran to New York that fast, never mind the other logistical impossibilities of it. He's baffled, he doesn't know what to make of it. Neither do the Iranians; he says they're going nuts trying to figure out what happened. We don't know what to make of it either; the few who know have been floating theories like he had an identical twin, separated at birth. It's stupid, but more plausible than any alternate explanation."

Dudley understood. "Except magic."

"And I couldn't tell them about that even if I wanted to, since Harry put that Forgetfulness Charm on me. I can only talk about this to people who already know about the magical world. Anyway, there's another thing. This hasn't been public, but a few people in military and intelligence circles know about it. There's a video that went up on a website for a very short time--"

"I know, I've seen it. You mean where the guy just seems to appear out of nowhere?"

"Yes. I'm impressed that you saw it; I heard the Americans shut it down fast. I haven't seen it, just heard about it. The people I've talked to assume it's a fake, but it would be a very strange fake. But adding that to what our agent says, and what I know about magic... well, it's hard to think what else it could be. But I couldn't even go to my superiors, or intelligence with this..."

"Because of the Forgetfulness Charm," finished Dudley. "I know how you feel. By the way, my partner at the Ministry and I are pretty convinced the video isn't fake. We went to the guy's house, and the government had apparently already been there, the woman hustled us out as fast as she could--"

"You went there?" repeated Ingersoll incredulously. "And you weren't taken into custody?"

Dudley frowned. "No, why would we be?"

"First of all, tell me exactly what happened," requested Ingersoll. Dudley did; at the end of the story, Ingersoll shook his head. "If your partner couldn't Apparate, you'd have been in custody very soon thereafter. You need to be more careful, Dudley. The Americans--maybe FBI, maybe NSA--who went to the young man's home and took the video would have left behind bugs, maybe even small cameras. They'd have agents in a van near the place, and they'd be observing who came and went. They'd want to know who displayed overt interest; they'd consider it a possible, though longshot, way to get a lead."

Dudley finally understood. "You mean, maybe someone connected to those who did it might come looking for the evidence."

"Yes. And here are you two, walking along the street like nothing happened. They were going to follow you, see where you went. You never know what could be a lead. Then you go and disappear. Bet they were ticked," he added with a grin.

"Guess so. Well, anyway, we came away convinced that the video was genuine, but we didn't know what to do from there. Technically we should talk to the American wizards and ask them to investigate, but my boss is convinced that they won't without hard evidence, and we have none. We haven't done anything since then, because we really can't think of what to do."

"I can see that," said Ingersoll with mild resignation. "But you'd better think of something, because I can see things going to hell if you don't."

"How do you mean? You think whoever did this might do more?"

"I'm not saying I know that, but the Americans knowing Iran didn't do this would go a long way to calming things down. This hasn't hit the papers yet, but Iran is doing a big mobilization. Reserve units are being called up, troops are starting to mass at the border. There's talk that Iran might invade Iraq pre-emptively."

"What?" stammered a stunned Dudley.

"Just talk; it could be very wrong. Any troop movement like that is going to raise eyebrows. I'm sure you know that since the sarin attack, America has made quite a show of moving whatever assets it has into the area, trying to wield as big a stick as possible. When this becomes public, Iran will just say it's reacting defensively, given America's aggressive posturing, and so forth. It would be plausible, but it just so happens that they'd be in a good position to launch an assault."

"Could Iran even win?"

"It's not so much whether they could win, but whether they could wear down the Americans, and especially, us. I'm sure you know that the British public isn't going to stand for another war. On the other hand, we are already there, relatively close to the possible front. We couldn't exactly turn tail and run, but if Iran invaded, there would be huge public pressure to do just that. Barclay's government might very well fall."

"Not while British troops are under attack," countered Dudley.

"Maybe. I would hope not. But Barclay's got to be extremely concerned. I hear he's trying to talk the Americans down, but they have their own political pressures. Not to mention a President who seems bent on conflict. The bottom line is that this could explode into open conflict, which would be bad enough, but the idea that wizards caused it... your Ministry needs to do something. Or the American wizards, but somebody."

"Of course, you're right, but it's hard to do with what we have," pointed out Dudley. "You and I are pretty sure of this, but we have absolutely zero proof, and anybody I ask to get involved is going to want more than what we have before doing it."

"There's nobody you can talk to?"

Dudley thought. "I'd have to go through Arthur. He's friends with Kingsley; Kingsley would listen to him. Problem is, both Arthur and Kingsley have a lot of their own problems right now. Kingsley might say he wanted to help, but didn't have the manpower. All I can tell you is, I'll do what I can."

"I suppose that's all anyone can do," said Ingersoll. He stood; so did Dudley. "I'll be off; your dinner's probably ready by now."

Dudley chuckled. "They'll ask you to stay, just so you know. This has done a lot to reinforce my cover. They'll think I'm some high-level government operative now."

"Glad I could help," responded an amused Ingersoll. They left the bedroom and walked down the stairs.

They were greeted by Petunia, wearing her best smile. "Dinner is almost ready. Captain, we'd be honored if you'd join us."

"Thank you, I'd like to," said Ingersoll politely. "But I'm on duty, they expect me back. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, of course," agreed Vernon. "Very nice to have met you." He shook Ingersoll's hand again while Dudley tried to keep a smile off his face.

"Oh, before I forget," said Dudley, taking out his wallet and handing Ingersoll a card. "My contact info. Cell, e-mail, chat."

Ingersoll reached into a shirt pocket and handed Dudley his own card. "Here you go. And keep in touch."

"Definitely," agreed Dudley. They shook hands; Ingersoll said goodbye to the Dursleys and left.

Petunia beamed at Dudley. "Oh, my, I knew you were important, but an Army captain..."

"Special Forces, actually. But don't repeat that," Dudley belatedly added as his parents exchanged further impressed looks. "Seriously--this is very serious--you can't tell anyone that he visited, anything about him at all. Just that I talked to him at all, if some people found out, would be very bad. Are you okay with that?"

"Of course," Vernon assured him. Petunia reluctantly nodded her assent; Dudley knew that this was just the kind of thing his mother would love to gossip about to her friends, to brag about how important her son was. Dudley didn't really think that it would be bad if anyone found out, but you never knew. It was better to be on the safe side.

* * * * *

After dinner, Snape signaled Ginny that he had free time. Since their agreement on Sunday morning, there hadn't been a chance to meet, as Snape had been too busy with Hogwarts responsibilities in the wake of the attack on Hogwarts' magical defenses. Now that the defenses were back, he could be spared; he had checked with Hermione to make sure she didn't need him before calling Ginny.

She'd intended to tell no one about her time with Snape, but she realized that she at least had to tell her mother, as someone needed to take care of James. Molly was surprised, but agreed to keep it a secret for Ginny. She knew her friends would ask eventually, but she would just tell them she needed time alone, and that she was safe.

To make sure they weren't disturbed, Ginny decided to ask Snape if he minded meeting on the Hawaiian beach Harry had introduced her to. Snape raised an eyebrow at the peculiar choice of setting, but agreed. She used Harry to transport them there.

After Harry flew away, Snape spoke. "Does he know why we are coming here?"

She nodded. "I told him I felt I needed to learn Legilimency. I told him directly, not through Hermione or Pansy, so I didn't get an answer. I didn't need one, really. I don't think he knows the other thing, but he can probably tell with his phoenix-sense that I want to do something to help you as well. Do you care whether he knows or not?"

"No, I was merely curious."

"Well, let's sit down," she suggested. Snape looked uncomfortable sitting in sand; she watched him do it slowly, as if not sure how. "I am sure there will be sand all through my clothes," he muttered.

"You can always get rid of it with magic. Anyway, look around, it's beautiful. Isn't the weather great?"

Snape paid close attention to his surroundings for the first time. "It is... satisfactory."

I've got a lot of work to do, thought Ginny, if I can't get him to enjoy and appreciate a setting like this. One thing at a time, though. "How's Hermione doing?"

"Her emotions come rather close to the surface at times, but I suppose it is understandable, given the recent crises. Her performance as headmistress has been highly adequate. Like you and the others, the headmistress was through enough in the Voldemort era to not be intimidated by difficult circumstances, and knows how to handle herself and what needs to be done. The governors attempted to use her age to denigrate her, but she is far more qualified than any of them, or Umbridge."

"I'm wondering... why do you refer to Hermione as 'the headmistress' instead of 'Hermione,' even just here with me?"

"Habit, I suppose. I assume your point is that formality is a way of keeping distance from people. I respect her, but we have never been particularly close. And before you comment, I mean 'close' by my standards. Even then, I would say that Harry is the only one I could be considered close to. Also, Professor..." He paused. "Also Minerva, before she died."

"And Albus," she added.

He nodded. "Needless to say. One... I am not used to using the word, but one regret I have is that I was not able to spend time with him after my Cleansing was reversed. He would have taken great pleasure in talking to me in my current state."

She could tell that he was making an effort to talk about things he usually wouldn't. "I'm sure he got great pleasure seeing you happy, from where he was."

"I know. The fact is that one of the reasons I agreed to your suggestion regarding this is that I know he would have wanted me to do so. He would not have told me I was wasting my life, or even implied it, but I know it would have made him happy that I was willing to try to... 'peek out of my shell,' as you so colorfully put it. I have no doubt he would have encouraged it, and much sooner, had he been around."

There was silence for a few seconds; she wanted to be careful not to push him too far too fast. He had already said a lot, for him.

He spoke again. "How is Harry doing with the bonding with your son?"

It suddenly occurred to Ginny that Snape referred to James only as 'your son,' never by name. Even so long after childhood, even though it referred to a different person, Snape clearly could not consider the name James Potter in anything but anger. "He says it's all right. Not without its problems, but not as bad as the other phoenixes feared."

He nodded. "How are you doing with it?"

Her eyebrows went up involuntarily; she quickly decided it was too late to pretend she wasn't surprised by the question. "Better. I was really depressed when it happened, I cried more than once. But obviously, saving James took the sting out of it. I guess I just understand that it wasn't meant to be that way. I understood that before, in a way. But there's a big difference between understanding something and accepting it."

"I know that very well," he agreed. After another pause, he started the Legilimency lesson. He taught it the way Dumbledore had taught Harry, not the way he had taught--or, 'not taught'--Harry Occlumency in Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. He was thankful that the need to deliberately cause people distress was far behind him.

* * * * *

"You have to do something!" shouted Trent at Kingsley.

It was Wednesday morning at ten a.m. Eight wizards had been killed during the night, in five locations. Included were two prominent businessmen, an assistant editor at the Prophet, and two undersecretaries. It was the last two that had Trent agitated, Kingsley knew well. He was reporting--as a courtesy, not a requirement, since the undersecretaries could take no officially binding action--to the undersecretaries on the state of the crisis; he had known Trent would react this way.

"What would you have me do?" asked Kingsley calmly.

"I've already told you that! Give the undersecretaries Auror protection!

"You didn't ask that," responded Kingsley. "You asked for protection for yourself only, and I told you I couldn't give you protection I didn't give the other undersecretaries."

"Well, we're down to eight! Wait long enough, and soon there will be so few of us that it won't strain your manpower to protect each of us individually!"

"And what about the business leaders?" asked Kingsley.

"What about them?"

"Two of the country's top ten businessmen were killed last night," Kingsley pointed out. "Two others have been killed in the past week. That's three out of eleven undersecretaries, and four out of ten prominent businessmen. Should I put personal protection on the other top businessmen? If so, I don't have the manpower. If not, why are you more deserving of protection than them?"

Kingsley knew he was infuriating Trent, but he didn't care. "You are actively seeking to leave us unprotected!" shouted Trent. "You're looking for any excuse to avoid it!"

Arthur couldn't help but interject. "Stop using the word 'us.' You're only worried about yourself, and you're only framing it that way so the rest of us will support you. You want as much protection for yourself as you can get, and you don't care about anyone else."

"How dare you criticize me while you sit in your home under the all-purpose Harry Potter shield that keeps out all intruders," spat Trent. "You're safe, why should you care about the rest of us?"

"I do, and you know that full well. I just don't care for hypocrisy. You tried to get special treatment a few days ago, so don't pretend it's about all of us. And Harry's help notwithstanding, I am a target, as is my family. My grandson was almost killed, and my son-in-law may never be able to return to human form. Don't tell me about how safe I am. Any of us is vulnerable. All Kingsley is saying is that we need to think about how safe all of us are, not how safe some of us are. I flew to protect Hogwarts five years ago, was almost killed by Voldemort seven years ago protecting the Ministry, and I'm not going to take any of that from you." He glared at Trent, then before Trent responded, turned to Kingsley. "Is there anything that could be done that isn't being done?"

"We could re-institute the ARA," Kingsley said, referring to the Apparation Restriction Act, which was in effect for the last year of Voldemort's attacks before he was defeated. "Well, we couldn't really, it would have to be voluntary since the Ministry has no authority to pass new laws. I'm not totally convinced that it would do any good; I think our enemy may have means to avoid magical detection, based on what happened at Hogwarts. It was infiltrated in a way that shouldn't be possible."

Kingsley thought for another few seconds in silence. "No, thinking about it more, it's no good. We can't give it the force of law, and it's just not going to work if it's only voluntary. Some people violated the ARA at first five years ago, thinking along the lines of 'just this once'. If it's voluntary, we're going to be chasing down people all day long. But really, Arthur, there just is nothing else we can do. We've thought about it."

"Would it be possible to go over the names of those who've been killed and develop a profile of likely targets?" asked Arthur. "I mean, for example, four out of the top ten business leaders is a lot. You could give the other six special protection. That sort of thing."

"The pattern isn't that clear," responded Kingsley. "There's a general pattern of targeting people who are fairly important but not extremely important. A lot of segments of society have been hit. All I can tell you is that absent any political authority, the Aurors are going to do what we think saves the most lives, not just the most important people."

"Important people are targets! You admitted that!" argued Trent loudly.

"Yes, I said not just the most important people. But many regular people have been killed as well. Here's what I'll do, Undersecretary Trent. If any undersecretary will say the following--and nothing else--to the Prophet, he or she will get special protection. They have to say, "I have requested the Aurors to provide me with special protection, although I understand this means that there will be fewer Aurors available to provide protection for the rest--"

"You bastard!" shouted Trent, angrier than Arthur had ever seen him. "You'd make us commit political suicide to be protected?"

"It would be the truth," countered Kingsley. "I'm not saying you're not going to be protected, Trent. I'm not even going to say that you won't get more protection than most people. What I am saying is that you are not going to harangue or pressure us into doing it. I say again, we will do what we think saves the most lives. That's what we would do anyway, and a Minister who had any honor at all would assume that we would do that and leave us to do our jobs. The Aurors are not yours to order around, at least not until Friday."

"And on Friday, you're going to regret what you're doing now," said Trent coldly.

Kingsley returned Trent's gaze. "I don't think so. In any case, I'm a busy man, and I'm done here. Until there's a Minister, I'll report to the undersecretaries if I have something in particular to say. Good morning."

There was silence among the eight undersecretaries. Finally one said, "Roger, would it kill you to be nice to the man, at least until Friday? You might get better results."

Arthur was fed up, and didn't care whether or not he insulted Trent. "Roger's not tying to get results. He's trying to show who's boss. In his mind, he's already Minister, and he can't understand why some people aren't treating him that way."

"Is that so," mocked Trent.

"Yes, it is. I've heard you use the phrase 'Minister-in-waiting' more than once. There's no such position."

"Yes, there is. It just isn't official. But anyone with a brain in his head knows it, and most people treat me accordingly, as they should."

Arthur shook his head, but said nothing more. At least there's one good thing about what's coming, he thought; one way or the other, I won't be working with this jackass anymore.

* * * * *

Dudley and Colin persuaded Arthur to use his influence to set up a meeting with Kingsley for them, though he suggested they keep their presentation as brief as possible. Dudley did most of the talking, as he related a lot of his talk with Ingersoll. Kingsley asked few questions, though he was quite surprised to hear that Harry had long ago lifted Ingersoll's Memory Charm. "That Harry, such a rascal," he muttered.

Kingsley paused for a minute after the briefing was finished. "Well, gentlemen, that was impressive. But I'm not sure what you want me to do about it."

"We were hoping," said Colin, "that you would help us investigate it further. We know you're busy, but--"

"That's putting it mildly," Kingsley interrupted. "If I took even one Auror off duty protecting the population to do this, Trent would howl to the Prophet, and this time he'd be right. First of all, the Americans should be doing this, even though I know they won't. Secondly, if what you think is true, then it's probably the same man or group responsible for the current wizarding mayhem, in which case we're looking for him anyway. Thirdly, suppose we prove that the American gas attack was done by a wizard. Besides getting the Americans to get involved--which they would do only grudgingly--what would it accomplish?"

"We could intervene to reverse the effects of what was done," suggested Colin.

Kingsley looked at Colin as though he were crazy, then at Arthur to see what he thought. "Deliberately intervene in Muggle affairs? Are you kidding?"

Dudley's annoyance came through in his tone. "You heard what we said, Kingsley. If a wizard did this, and we're almost sure that one did, it could start a war where there wouldn't have been one otherwise! Thousands of people would die, because of wizards. You don't think that's worth intervening?"

Dudley could tell his words had at least some impact. "There's a very long-standing tradition that we don't do that," said Kingsley. "It seems very strange to even consider it. But that kind of thing would have to be decided at very high levels. There would have to be a meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards, the proof would have to be laid out and debated. It would be a major debate."

"There isn't time for all that!" insisted Dudley. "This war, if there's going to be one, could break out at any time!"

Kingsley gave Dudley a stern look. "Things take the time they take, Dudley. It may not be right, but it just is. If anyone's going to intervene, it should be the Americans, since it's happening in their country. Look, you could go to the Prophet, see what interest you can scrape up."

Dudley shook his head. "It would be like with the Americans, they're too preoccupied with this crisis, they wouldn't care. Besides, what Ingersoll told me is very confidential. He could be prosecuted if his information gets made public."

Puzzled, Kingsley replied, "That would just be in the wizarding world."

"The wizarding websites," Dudley reminded him. "We have to assume that anything that's in the Prophet could get to those websites. I won't even tell individual wizards I don't know well. I'm not going to betray Ingersoll's trust."

Kingsley shrugged. "Then I'm sorry, Dudley, but I really don't know what can be done, and I don't think the Aurors are the solution in any case. You really need to go to your American counterparts. I know we don't have much of a functioning government right now, but that may actually be an advantage."

Dudley sighed. "Yeah, that's the other problem, this deadline. In two days I'll probably be gone, and even if I'm not, he'd never let us proceed with this. He considers the whole department irrelevant."

"Well, thank you for your time, anyway," said Colin. They all stood as Kingsley said goodbye and left Arthur's office. The three remaining sat back down.

"Well, that went well," said Dudley dejectedly.

"About as well as expected," pointed out Arthur. "He has an open mind, at least, but he's right that this wouldn't normally be considered a matter for Aurors. Sorry, boys. All we can do is keep monitoring the situation, and try again if something comes up. In the meantime, I'll meet with my American counterpart. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe they'll be willing to do something."

I wouldn't bet on it, thought Dudley.

* * * * *

The Deputy Secretary of State walked into his boss's office and took a seat. His boss, he knew, had just completed two hours' worth of telephone consultations with his counterparts of the more important countries in the world. "So, how're we doing?"

The dismay on Rogers' face was clear. "We're taking it up the ass."

Davidson nodded. "I just hope you'll stay away from that phrase when you're on the Sunday morning talk shows. How far up the ass are we taking it?"

"Pretty far. Before, we knew who our friends were by who stood with us. Today, we know by who tells us they really wish they could stand with us, but they live in democracies, and have to listen to their voters. And we can tell who our friends are in that they're the ones not taking advantage of the situation to bring us down a few pegs. The French and Germans in particular couldn't wait to tell me how they won't hesitate to strongly condemn any action we take against Iran, no matter the circumstances. Even those who rely on us for their protection are nearly pleading with us not to do anything, because they don't want to see more peace rallies like there were before Iraq. We have, unfortunately, run out of credibility."

"That almost seems amazing, considering that we have in our possession a dead man who worked for Iranian intelligence," noted Davidson. "But of course I know that the facts often take a backseat to the political realities. No good news at all?"

Rogers shook his head. "People are believing what they want to believe. Of course, they say that about us; it just seems like we have more reason to believe what we do. Most everyone acts as though the burden of proof is on us, as if that guy wasn't pretty good proof all by himself." In the end, he knew, it all came down to what each country considered to be in its own interest, and especially, in the political interest of its leaders. Facts were less important than perception, though of course facts could shape perception.

"Vince tells me that his boss tells him that you've been taking a surprisingly hard line in the meetings," said Davidson cautiously, carefully checking his boss's reaction.

Rogers knew he'd hear that at some point, and had a response ready. "Adams may be exaggerating, since he's probably surprised to see even a hint of that from me. But I'm not necessarily opposed to an aggressive response, even some bombing. I wouldn't be so sanguine if Iran were at least acting like they wanted to cooperate, but they're just giving us the finger. They could cooperate; this is a considered foreign policy decision. I'm inclined to feel they deserve what they get."

"And if we bomb them, and they decide to invade Iraq?"

Rogers sighed. "Then the President gets what he wants."

* * * * *

"Anne?" Trent shouted into the empty house, just having Apparated from the Ministry.

She hurried down the stairs. "Roger! What are you doing here?" She wasn't unhappy to see him, just surprised.

He gave her a quick kiss, and they sat on the love seat in the living room. "I just wanted to come home and relax for an hour or so before going back in. I'm going to give a press conference at six to talk about what tomorrow's agenda will be. I want to get out of the gate fast."

"You'll finally be Minister, in less than twenty-four hours," she said, pleased and proud, but also worried. Almost as much as she was happy that he would be Minister, she was also relieved that he would finally be given personal Auror protection. Granted, it hadn't helped Bright, but it would make her feel much better.

"Finally, no thanks to Weasley," he grumbled. "If it were anyone else in that position, I'd have been in the job last Friday or Saturday. But no, he has to fly in the face of all common sense."

He'd been complaining about it all week. He was a man in a hurry, who'd do what it took to get what he wanted. It was one of the things she liked about him, even if it meant he was sometimes less patient than he should be. "Do you really think you'll be able to do anything to help the situation?"

"Like I've said, it's a matter of leadership," he said. She could see the confidence in his eyes. "Bright's attitude was, let the Aurors take care of it. I want to inspire people, give them confidence that their government is being as aggressive as possible in dealing with the situation. That in itself may save lives, but it'll definitely reduce the fear, which is part of why this is being done. Bright never understood that, but he was such a good politician that people overlooked it. He had Potter for that. But Potter's not around now, so people need to inspire themselves. I want to help them do that."

"What's the first thing?" she asked.

"The main thing is that I'm going to give a major address in Diagon Alley to announce the rebuilding plans for the businesses that were damaged or destroyed in the dragon attack. The themes will be initiative and community spirit. We will catch whoever's been doing this. All of us, not just the Aurors. I want people to feel like we're all in this together. I could have had a week's head start, if not for Weasley. The thing is--" He glanced at her, and shook his head ruefully. "I know, I do go on about that."

"It's all right," she assured him. "We need to talk about the things that annoy us." She didn't do that with him, though; his job was stressful enough. She had her friends for that. Ironically, one of the things that annoyed her was the time he spent at his job, and his preoccupation with it.

He nodded and continued. "It's just that he should absolutely not be there in the first place, and I think even he understands that, but he does what he does anyway. It was just Bright's sop to Potter. In most circumstances, it wouldn't be a problem. But in this particular situation, which I admit couldn't really have been foreseen, it's been disastrous. Bones and Williamson are the only other undersecretaries who aren't with me, but they recognized the inevitability of my ascension, and would have been willing to cut deals so I could take over faster. Weasley recognized it, but wouldn't cut a deal, because he has to be pure. Politics is all about deals, for crying out loud! It's the way it is, the way it should be. Thank goodness Potter didn't want to be an undersecretary, think of the havoc he'd have caused. I mean, I respect him, who doesn't, but give me a break."

"I wonder if he's forgiven you for the Ring of Reduction thing," his wife said.

"I wonder if you have," he responded. She raised an eyebrow and looked back expressionlessly, gauging how serious he was. It had been the most controversial act of his political career, and the only one she'd ever been overtly opposed to. She felt that setting himself up to benefit if Harry and Hermione died in the Ring crossed a moral line, even for politics, and she'd been furious with him after he gave the interview in which he opposed their making the attempt.

He continued talking to sidestep the possible argument; he didn't need it when he was going to an important press conference soon. "I suppose he forgave me enough that he didn't try to hurt my career after he came out of the Ring as a hero, though I think that's less a matter of forgiveness and more just who he is. He hates politics, Bright said, and I believe him. So does Weasley, so I can't figure out why he's there."

I suppose it has nothing to do with self-interest, which is why you can't understand it, she thought. She loved him, but he could be myopic at times, especially regarding politics. He couldn't imagine a way other than what he felt was natural or usual. "Well, after tomorrow it won't matter anymore. You can just ignore him."

"I'm not going to ignore him, at least not yet. I haven't decided what I'm going to do about him. Definitely lop off his budget to what it was before last year when they hired Potter's Muggle cousin, that was a complete waste. Other than that... there are all kinds of little things I could do to him, and I should, just to make an example. But the problem is that I don't think he'd care, and it's not very effective to punish someone if they don't care about what you're doing. So, I don't know what I'll do, but obviously that'll have to wait."

"There'll be a lot to do tomorrow," she agreed. "Are you excited?"

"A bit, but more impatient now. This should have happened last weekend. But it is very exciting. I'm a little nervous, only because of whoever's out there, there's no telling what they'll do. They could keep killing, and despite my efforts, we don't catch them. Making my name on security issues is effective at times like this, but it only lasts for so long if you don't actually provide security. I've said so much about how I'll be better at this that I'm not going to be able to say, 'Well, we're doing our best.' People will expect results, and morale notwithstanding, it's not really in my hands."

"Are you going to back off the Aurors?"

He sighed. "I hate the idea, but I may have to. The others thought it was a bad idea to even take a run at Kingsley in the first place, but I felt I had to see what headway I could make. Not much; he didn't back down at all. I suppose I'll have to be satisfied with the Ministry and Hogwarts."

* * * * *

All of the teachers except Hagrid were in the staff room at five-thirty. Hermione activated the Looking Glass, and they saw images in the air of what was happening in the Ministry Atrium. At the moment it was as usual; a lot of foot traffic, people Apparating in and out. Hermione saw a group of journalists off to one side, chatting.

Trent's senior aide stuck his head into his boss's office. "There's quite a crowd in the Atrium."

"Only fifteen more minutes," Trent replied. They would have to wait.

"Yes, but one other thing... Weasley's down there now. He's going to talk to the press for a few minutes, he said. He could start any time."

Trent cursed mildly and stood. Normally Weasley was anything but a press hound, so why did he have to start now? "I'd better go see what he's going to say," he said resignedly. "If he's decided at the last minute to give me his blessing, well, it's way too late."

"I'd guess that's what it'll be," said the aide. "Unity of the government, and all that."

"Screw that," said Trent brusquely. He didn't usually use that kind of language, but something about Weasley annoyed him greatly. "He'll find out all about the unity of the government when it's united against him." They walked down a flight of stairs--Trent had very favorable office space, only a minute from the Atrium on foot--and were soon at the edge of the Atrium. Weasley appeared to be just about to speak.

Arthur looked around as he stood at the conjured podium; there had to be two hundred people, not to mention ten journalists, including two from America and two from Europe. They were there to hear Trent, of course, but they would listen to him first. It was by far the largest audience he'd ever had.

There was no microphone; he would have to project his voice, which he was not as naturally good at as Trent. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" he said in as loud a voice as he could without seeming to shout. The Atrium gradually quieted down and gave him its attention. Arthur glanced up to see Harry suddenly appear in the air; Harry quickly flew to a perch against a wall near the ceiling. Arthur couldn't suppress a smile as the entrance caused murmuring in the crowd. He could also see Ron, one of the three Aurors providing protection in the Atrium.

"Thank you," he said, remembering to keep projecting his voice. "I know you came to hear Undersecretary Trent, but I have an announcement which I think will interest most everyone. I will try to be finished by six o'clock, which is when I believe he planned to speak.

"We are living through a very challenging time right now. There have been such times before, and there will be again. These are times that test us, both as individuals and as a society. The choices we make are critical ones.

"It seems to me that one of the most critical choices of all is the choice of who is to lead us through such a difficult time. Let me pause to once again pay tribute to former Minister Bright, who was an excellent Minister, and to express the hope that our society will do its utmost to be supportive of his wife Madeline, and of all the loved ones of those lost over the last two weeks.

"But Minister Bright is no longer with us, and we must make a choice about leadership. Or rather, it should be a choice. Unfortunately, we are facing a selection without a real choice. Only Undersecretary Roger Trent has announced his intention to seek the Ministership, and no one has challenged that. Some will say this is as it should be, that it reflects a consensus in our society. But I have worked with Undersecretary Trent for some time now, and the sad fact is that I, for reasons I will not detail here and now, do not think he would be a good Minister and cannot support him. I very much wish that Undersecretary Amelia Bones had sought the position; I could enthusiastically support her. But her niece's recent heroism was a tragedy for her, and I respect that the time is not right for her to seek such responsibility."

Trent's aide leaned over. "Did he really do this just to trash you? Is he that stupid?"

Trent was fuming, trying hard to keep his temper in check. "Whatever his reason, he'll pay for it," he responded quietly.

"I strongly believe that our society should have a choice," Arthur continued. "As things stand now, tomorrow morning Roger Trent will become this society's leader with nothing more than the passive assent of a people going through very difficult times. I believe that our method of choosing leaders normally works well, but has failed us on this occasion. I therefore announce my intention to seek the position of Minister of Magic, and I challenge Undersecretary Trent to a Choosing."

Three Nights Before

"It's his phoenix intuition," said Hermione. She turned to Arthur, sadness on her face. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I know you're not going to like this..."

She took a deep breath. "This is going to sound strange, because... well, because it is, and because it's not the usual kind of thing for a phoenix to suggest. Harry got something from phoenix intuition just now." She looked at Arthur, solemn. "He says that you should challenge Trent to a Choosing."

Now the others felt the same stunned surprise, none more than Arthur, who did a double-take. "Two questions. One, are you very sure you have that right?"

Both Pansy and Hermione nodded. "He heard us say it to you, it confirmed to him that we got it right."

"All right, the second question. Is he crazy? I wouldn't have a chance!"

"It really seems that way," agreed Hermione. "But no, he's not crazy."

"How can he suggest that, anyway?" wondered Ginny. "Harry's not exactly an expert on politics, and as a phoenix, isn't so well informed on the current situation. How can he know enough to say that?"

"It's not a matter of how much he knows," responded Hermione. "He could know nothing about it and still suggest it. The whole point of phoenix intuition is that it's not about facts, it's about... well, intuition. It comes straight from the spiritual realm."

"Wouldn't he get intuition only about things that affect him, or his bondmate?" asked Molly.

"Usually, but not always. It's about things that are important to him; he doesn't want to see Trent be Minister, or Hogwarts taken over. It's as if he asked the spiritual realm what was the best thing to do in this situation, and that was the answer."

"But Dad will win, then," suggested Ron eagerly. "If Harry got the intuition that Dad should, then Dad will win, because phoenix intuition is never wrong, isn't that right?"

Hermione slowly shook her head. "Not exactly. Harry's intuition isn't exactly saying, 'if Arthur runs, he will win.' It's more that it's saying, 'Arthur running is the best thing to do in this situation.' Arthur could lose. The only thing we know for sure is that Arthur running, win or lose, leads to a better situation in the long run than if he didn't run. Harry knows nothing other than that."

Ron's mouth hung open in surprise. "And Harry's asking Dad to risk his job, the Burrow, everything they own, on that?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"Does it take into account what happens to Dad if he loses?" demanded Ron.

"Harry knows what happens, so the answer is yes," responded Hermione. She looked at Arthur sadly; she wouldn't want to make this kind of decision. Arthur was still stunned.

Even Snape didn't hide his surprise. "I am sure that we all are aware that Professor Potter would not suggest such a thing lightly."

"Of course, he wouldn't," said Arthur quietly.

"He's sending again," said Pansy. "He says he knows how it sounds, and he's sorry for the pressure it puts on you. He just knows what he knows."

Arthur nodded. "I understand. I was just thinking that it's a good thing the kids are all grown; only Molly and I would be affected, except for you two having to find a new place to live," he said to Ron and Pansy. "I was thinking, what if I lost, what possessions we would lose. Then I thought--and this is just as disturbing--what if I somehow won? Being Minister isn't exactly something I'd prefer to do."

"Understandable," said Snape. "But as I mentioned to Professor Granger recently, sometimes fate directs us in ways we do not expect."

"In this case," mused Arthur, "that's putting it mildly."

Four hours later, Arthur and Molly lay in their bed, getting ready to sleep. "Are you going to do it?" Her tone told him that it was his decision.

He rolled onto his side toward her, and met her eyes. "The financial part doesn't bother me that much. Harry has plenty in his vault that he'd want us to use, and we would just stay with he and Ginny for the time being. It's more the public aspect of it. Everyone would say, there goes Arthur Weasley on a fool's errand. If I do it, I won't tell anyone the true reason; I'd just say that opposing Trent is the right thing to do. I'd get points for nobility, if nothing else. But in the minds of... well, everyone that knows anything about politics, it would be seen as utterly foolish. It would be difficult to go out there every day and campaign, knowing how it would be seen."

"Everyone wouldn't think like that," she said. "The Prophet might point out that Trent is the overwhelming favorite, but people would listen to what you had to say. You might get support you didn't expect. Maybe some scandal would happen at the last minute to give you the win. Anything could happen. And doing the right thing is noble. You would have nothing to be ashamed of; in fact, I think it would be something to be proud of, win or lose. Taking on a rotten man like Trent is noble, even if not everyone knows he's rotten."

He nodded. "I see your point. And at least it would only be for two weeks. I'll announce on Thursday night, that'll delay his taking office for as long as possible."

"So, you're going to do it, then."

Putting a hand on her shoulder, he nodded. "It's kind of scary, but I don't see what else I can do. You don't argue with phoenix intuition."

Present Day

There was a mild gasp, then complete silence in the Atrium. Arthur glanced at Trent and saw perhaps the most stunned expression he'd ever seen. Colin and Dudley, also in attendance, looked on, slack-jawed in astonishment.

"A Choosing has not been held for a long time; I believe the last one was almost ninety years ago. I predict that one of the front-page articles in tomorrow's Daily Prophet will be an explanation of how the Choosing works, as many people will not know. I make this challenge regretfully--"

"Are you out of your mind?" demanded an outraged Trent, taking a few steps across the Atrium to where Arthur was standing. "You will lose, lose everything, and in the meantime tie us up in knots for another two weeks! Is that what you're trying to do? Are you so desperate to stop me from being Minister, or to keep the government tied up, that you would go to these extremes?"

There was murmuring everywhere, as people had finally recovered from their shock, and started thinking about it. Arthur raised his voice again and glared at Trent. "Undersecretary Trent, if you'd stop and think for a moment, you'd see that I'm not trying to stop the government. The law provides that undersecretaries competing for an open Ministership can campaign for as much as two months before dropping out of the race or having a Choosing. You campaigned for almost six weeks then, Voldemort was a danger, but you didn't seem to think you were 'tying the government in knots.' If I wanted to do that, I could, as an Undersecretary, simply announce my intention to seek the position, and I would have eight weeks to campaign if I wanted it. There would be far less risk to me than what I'm doing now. I call on you now to refrain from making such baseless and irresponsible accusations over the next two weeks.

"As I was saying--"

"Undersecretary Weasley!" shouted a reporter. "Do you agree with Undersecretary Trent, that you will lose?"

Arthur had prepared himself for such questions, as they were the obvious ones. "No, I don't, or else I wouldn't be doing this."

"Let me rephrase, then," interjected the reporter quickly. "Do you think it's more likely than not that you will lose?"

Arthur paused. "Many people will say that; I accept that it will be the conventional wisdom, at first. I myself am not going to handicap this race. I'm just going to spend the next two weeks asking the people to entrust me with the responsibility of their leadership and safety."

No one saw the short man with blond hair and blue eyes slowly move forward through the crowd, keeping his eye on the locations of the Aurors. Five reporters tried to ask questions at once; Arthur pointed to one. "Undersecretary Weasley, will you go before the Arbiter's portrait to determine who will be considered the challenger?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'm perfectly aware of the current political situation. I will be considered the challenger, and I wouldn't waste everyone's time to determine what is obvious."

He gestured to another reporter. "Undersecretary Weasley, you are considered, no offense, the least politically adept Undersecretary in a century--"

Arthur smiled. "No offense taken," he joked. There was light chuckling around the Atrium.

"Thank you, sir. My question is, given that, how do you expect to be Chosen?"

Arthur had expected this question as well. "The 'political adeptness' you mentioned doesn't refer to popular support, but to internal political support in the Ministry. The way you get such support is that you trade your support for the support of others. I made a conscious decision when I became an Undersecretary not to do that. I support what I think is right; I don't support what I don't think is right, and that is that. To say that I'm not politically adept is like calling someone who's chosen never to swim a poor swimmer. As for popular support, unlike most undersecretaries, I've never gone out of my way to seek it, though I've always welcomed it when I've had it, and many citizens have gone out of their way to tell me they support me. This will be the first time I've actively sought public support, so nobody can really say what will happen. Though," he added with a wry smile, "I expect that Undersecretary Trent and his supporters will not hesitate to tell you what they think will happen."

"If you lose, you would lose all your possessions," pointed out the reporter from Witch Weekly. "How much money and possessions do you have?"

Arthur smiled. "There will be some who say that I risked this only because I have such modest means that I wouldn't be losing much anyway," he said humorously. "I don't know exactly how many Galleons are in my vault, but I would wager what little there is that it's less than that of any other undersecretary. I have a home that is... again, modest, but I have a great sentimental attachment to it, and I would hate to lose it."

"Where would you stay if you did lose it?"

"I have six successful children," he answered, deadpan. "I like to think one of them would take us in."

The next questioner was interrupted by a loud flapping sound. Everyone looked up to where Harry was perched; he was flapping his wings vigorously, but not flying or otherwise moving. Arthur laughed, as did many of those present. "It seems that my son-in-law, the phoenix, has volunteered his home in that event."

"Undersecretary Weasley," asked one of the European reporters, "how would you define yourself? What distinguishing characteristics as a candidate do you believe you bring to the race?"

Arthur tried not to smile; it was a nice invitation to make a version of what would be his standard campaign speech. "I would say that there are two important things. One is as someone who fights against those who threaten our society. And I mean 'fights' with actions, not just words," he added, unable to resist glancing at Trent, who still appeared to be fuming. "I was an early member of the Order of the Phoenix, performing important tasks when most," again, a glance at Trent, "were still denying that Voldemort was back. I participated in the broom battle to defend Hogwarts. I did those things because I strongly felt they were the right thing to do, which leads me to the second way I would identify myself: as someone who can be counted on to do the right thing. Not necessarily the politically astute thing, or the thing that will get the most support, but the right thing, the thing that is most moral, that will help the most people. I'm not going to pledge to increase people's income or to make everyone's lives happy, because those aren't things the Minister can guarantee. But I can, and do, pledge to do what I think is right in every situation. I know this isn't a promise you've heard most politicians make, but I think people are ready for it.

"I'm sorry, I can see that there are more questions, but that's all I have to say for today. I really just wanted to make the announcement. You all came here to hear Undersecretary Trent speak. Thank you."

The reporters turned to Trent. "Undersecretary Trent, are you surprised at this challenge?"

Trent had clearly made a great effort to rein in his anger, knowing he had already made a mistake losing his temper earlier, and knowing how it would appear in the Prophet. "I'm very surprised, since Arthur Weasley has almost no public profile and avowedly no political ambitions, until just now. There is simply no doubt that I'll win, and I'm sure that everyone in this building who isn't a friend of his will tell you the same thing if you ask."

Trent's aide stepped up to him and whispered for a few seconds, then stepped back again as Trent nodded. "Yes, Miss Rostoy," he said.

No one noticed Harry fly off of his perch and silently glide through the air until he had descended to near eye level. The assassin--Joe, having taken Polyjuice Potion--was powerful enough from having killed a half-dozen wizards in America earlier that he didn't need to vocalize his Killing Curse. It flew through the air towards Trent, and got to within a yard of him when Harry intercepted it, opening his beak and swallowing it. He exploded into ashes.

Hermione gasped as soon as Harry swooped; the information about Harry's state of mind had been relayed to her through Flora almost instantaneously. The other teachers, except Snape, did so when Harry swallowed the Curse.

"He is trying to return to human form," observed Snape.

Hermione nodded, anxiety clear on her face. "He didn't plan to do it, and he doesn't know what will happen. He could still die, for all we know."

Snape shook his head. "He won't. This had to be phoenix intuition, not the typical Harry Potter acting-without-thinking."

"Can we at least find out if he survives before making snide comments?" asked an irritated Sprout. Snape shrugged. All eyes remained riveted to the image in the air.

"Harry!" screamed Ginny, and ran forward, as did Molly.

Ron did, as well. "Everyone stand clear!" he shouted. Arthur quickly moved to join his wife and daughter. Ron scanned the crowd for any further danger, but he knew by the sound that the assailant had Disapparated while the curse was en route. Trent, still in shock, stood and stared at the circle of Weasleys around Harry's ashes. His wife ran over to his side.

"Harry," urged Ginny desperately, looking at the pile of ashes. "Come on, come back."

A few seconds later, Flora burst into the Atrium, causing the murmuring to increase. She flew down so Hermione could let go.

Ginny looked up, fear in her eyes. "Well? What do the phoenixes say?"

"Flora's giving me 'everything's going to be all right' impressions, so I think he'll come back, just like any other phoenix. It may take a minute."

"Did he know when he did it what would happen?"

"No," said Hermione.

The reporters had slowly moved nearer to Harry's ashes, looking on in wonder. "Then why did he do it?" asked one.

Arthur glanced up at the reporter in annoyance. "Because it was the right thing to do," he responded curtly. Looking back at Harry's ashes, he muttered, "He's Harry Potter. That's what he does."

"Harry, please, don't keep us waiting," said a very anxious Molly, looking at the ashes intently for any sign of movement. Suddenly a small chick with light gold wings and a light orange body struggled to its feet. Ginny let out a loud cheer, and most everyone in the Atrium followed suit.

When the cheer had died down, a reporter turned to Hermione. "Will he now be able to return to human form?"

She shrugged. "We don't know, even the phoenixes don't know. What stopped him before could stop him again. My guess is that he will be able to, but we can't be certain."

Flora fluttered down to the ground next to Harry. She opened her beak an inch wide, and barely managed to hold Harry in her beak, at his midsection. She suddenly took flight, and disappeared.

Hermione turned to the reporters, anticipating their questions. "They're taking him to where they live. He's like a baby, he needs to be taken care of for a while. But he'll be fine."

Three reporters started to ask questions at once, and Hermione stopped them. "Look, there's a lot I don't know about this. He's the first human to be a phoenix, so this is all new. I'll do my best to answer your questions, but I'd like to do it someplace less crowded. There are meeting rooms upstairs, so if you're writing about this, you can follow me there." She headed off, followed by four of the reporters.

Two reporters walked over to Trent. "Undersecretary Trent, what is your reaction to these events?" asked one.

Trent's wife stood in front of him, indignant. "There was just an attempt on his life! How do you think he feels? We're going home, and--"

He stepped forward, putting his hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Anne." Looking at the reporter, he said, "I was challenged to the first Choosing in a hundred years by someone with no chance at all of winning, someone tried to kill me, and my life was saved by someone who is very close to my opponent, but risked his life to save me. That's a lot to happen in fifteen minutes. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure exactly what my reaction is."

The Hogwarts professors were still watching the scene at the Atrium through the Looking Glass. "That's probably the first honest thing he's said in quite some time," said Snape scornfully. "Well, at the very least, this buys us another two weeks." Of the teachers there, he alone knew that defiance was still an option, but there was no telling what the headmasters' portraits would do. He hoped not to have to rely on their judgment.

"You could at least pretend to be concerned about Harry," Sprout chided Snape.

"No, you have it backwards," joked John. "If he were concerned, he'd pretend not to be."

Snape ignored John's comment. "You heard the headmistress. He will be fine."

"We don't know that for certain," countered Sprout.

"I do," replied Snape. To the others' surprised looks, he added, "Nearly for certain. I visited Professor Potter's home not long ago, and persuaded Mrs. Potter to allow me to conduct a search for any potions, anywhere in the home. I discovered that someone managed to gain entry to his home, or perhaps the Burrow if laundry was done there, and treat some of his underclothes with the potion I suspected all along was used. Now that he has essentially a new body, the potion should no longer be effective. I am almost certain that when he attempts to become human again, he will succeed."

"When will that be?" asked Flitwick.

"The headmistress gave me to understand that it would be no more than two months." Sprout gave a nod of agreement. "It seems that phoenixes reach adulthood more quickly after a Burning day than they do after they are born for the first time," Snape explained. "My recollection is that this was the case with Fawkes as well. It would not be advisable for Professor Potter to attempt to return to human form any sooner than two months from now. Since his situation is unique, we cannot know what would happen if he did so sooner, but there would be a risk that he would come back with a physical age of, say, the mid-teens. He should, and no doubt will, take the time to grow to full maturity before attempting a return."

"If whoever's doing all this is still not caught, there'll be a lot of clamor for him to come back early," said Flitwick.

"I'm sure Hermione, and the other phoenixes, will make sure he waits until he should," said Sprout. "By the way, you all know what this means."

John nodded. "Harry is, like phoenixes, effectively immortal."

"Even phoenixes are not immortal," pointed out Snape. "They can only arise from the ashes so many times. I would put his maximum lifespan at no more than five thousand years."

"Oh, is that all," chuckled John. "I suppose my wording was imprecise; that was more or less what I meant. It just seems immortal to the rest of us." He paused. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I envy him."

"I see what you mean," agreed Sprout.

"I'm not sure I do," said Flitwick. "Why not?"

"Harry has a lot of friends, us for example, who are older than him," said John sadly. "He'll see us die one by one, as he already has Dumbledore and McGonagall. Then, his contemporaries, especially his close friends and Ginny; those will be extremely hard. Then will come his students, and finally even his children. There are an awful lot of people Harry cares about, and who care about him. To have to watch them all die while he lives on is going to be very difficult. I can easily imagine a person just becoming numb to it all, but not Harry. Even if he knows where they go after they die, he'll be deeply affected. He may just decide to live out a natural lifespan and die along with everyone else, or to just become a phoenix all the time. Like his unique magical powers, this seems great, but has a big downside."

"What do you think he'll do?" asked Flitwick to the room in general.

"I doubt he even knows," said Sprout. "He probably hasn't thought about it much. But I could see him deciding to die after, maybe, a hundred-year life. It's very ironic. We've talked before about how one aspect of the power he has is the understanding that one really shouldn't use it much; now we have the possibility of having an immensely long lifespan, but you can't reach the point of having that unless the idea of death really doesn't bother you. The ones who would want such a lifespan the most are the ones who aren't going to get it. Sometimes I think the universe really likes irony."

"Especially in that it had him save the life of someone who once thought to profit by his death," commented John.

"Yes, that too," agreed Sprout. "So, what about what Arthur did? Did anyone know he was going to do that?"

"He talked to me earlier, asked me for advice," said Dentus. "He asked me to keep it to myself, of course. But the fact is, there wasn't that much advice I could give him. He's not going to run a traditional campaign, as you saw in the Looking Glass. He's going to be himself, and if he loses, he loses."

"Is there any chance he can win?" wondered John.

Dentus shrugged. "Certainly. It could come to light that Trent is a serial child abuser, or owes goblins thousands of Galleons... you get the idea."

"There is his son," said Snape.

Dentus shook his head. "That would hurt Trent, but it wouldn't affect the race much. Professor Snape is referring to... do you all remember that story Harry told us more about than he meant to, the couple he had to say no to about the Joining? The man in the story is Trent's only son. Information like that is often used as a weapon in politics, but this is just the kind of thing that Arthur wouldn't countenance. Not to mention that letting it out would betray Harry's trust. We all know things like that don't leave this room. Anyway, it's not impossible that Arthur could win, but it's extraordinarily unlikely. He knows that."

"What made him do such a thing?" asked a mystified Sprout. "Granted, I see his point about not having that much to risk, and once he comes back, Harry can conjure Arthur and Molly anything they might want, but still... he can't really be doing all this just so people can have a choice, can he?"

Snape and Dentus, the only two people in the room who knew that the decision was based on Harry's phoenix intuition, exchanged a glance but said nothing; Arthur had made it clear that that information was to be known by the fewest people possible.

"I don't see why not," suggested John. "You already mentioned the possessions aspect, and the other consequence is that he can never work for the Ministry again, which wouldn't exactly be a crushing blow for him. Maybe he really does feel strongly that there should be a choice. I'd give him the benefit of the doubt, anyway. Also, he's worked with Trent all that time, knows what he's like up close. I'd bet it's not pretty."

"The man did plan to inflict Umbridge on us again," said Flitwick wryly. "That's all we really need to know about him."

"Not to mention that he all but accused Professor Snape of murder just because he seemed a convenient suspect, and it served his agenda vis-à-vis Hogwarts," added John.

"I am sure that underneath it all, he is a good man," said Snape, deadpan.

* * * * *

Already under the covers, Anne Trent watched her husband get into bed. After the press conference, he'd had an hour-long meeting with his staff. She hadn't asked him what they talked about, as she knew it was probably to re-evaluate his tactics and approach in the wake of the evening's events. She didn't expect that she would have any luck bringing him around to her point of view, but she would try.

She asked the question as if she didn't have an opinion. "Roger, do you accept Weasley's reason for challenging you? I mean, do you think he's being truthful?"

His quick shrug indicated that he didn't care. "I will say this for him, I've never known him to lie. Behave bizarrely and stupidly, yes, but not lie. So, it could be true. In a way, he's taking advantage of the way the Choosing works. Frivolous challenges like this can usually be swatted away by the Arbiter, if he thinks the person has little or no public support. So, for example, if Potter challenged me, the Arbiter would allow it even though he has no government experience. Hell, he might even beat me. Someone with as low a profile as Weasley has wouldn't be allowed to challenge me to a Choosing, but he automatically gets to because he's an undersecretary. Most undersecretaries give a damn about their career, or have enough possessions that losing them would bother them. Weasley has neither. The system wasn't designed for people like him. But, no system is perfect, I suppose. I just have to wait another two weeks."

"So, you're very sure you'll win."

"Oh, yes. The only question is, by how much." He saw her expression, and sighed, slightly peeved. "You want me to go easy on him."

"I wasn't going to say anything--" she protested.

"No, but it was plain on your face." They had long since had an understanding that she wouldn't tell him how to handle things politically, as they'd had arguments about it early in their relationship when he'd done things she hadn't approved of in order to get ahead. She had to admit, however, that the way he did things worked; he was, after all, about to become Minister.

"I have to treat him as if he were anyone else," he said. He could tell that she already knew what he would say, but he felt entitled to say it anyway. "If I went easy on him, I wouldn't get the respect I need to function the way I need to. Not only that, but fringe people need to be shown that you don't challenge someone to a Choosing unless you're truly ready for it. Thrashing him will make others think twice about doing what he's doing in the future."

Shifting into full acting mode, she looked down and nodded. "I do see what you mean. It's just too bad it has to be that way." What she felt was that it didn't really have to be that way, but that he had to be that way. She'd talked to enough Ministry wives at social functions (and a few were friends, including Madeline Bright) to know that not everyone was like her husband when it came to politics. Some men drew a line regarding what they would and would not do; a few were even honorable, after a fashion. Usually what her husband did didn't bother her quite so much, because the men he attacked were themselves morally suspect. This time, however, it disturbed her, because Arthur Weasley was as moral as they got, but her husband would treat him the same way as he would a scoundrel. She'd long ago made her peace with the unsavory aspects of what he did, but in this situation, it was inevitable that she'd feel twinges of regret. She changed the subject and tried to put it out of her mind.

* * * * *

Drake was as fascinated by the turn events had taken as the crowd at the Atrium earlier. He'd given Joe a difficult assignment; to even get off an accurate shot with so many people around wasn't easy. Joe was strong enough by then that he probably could have beaten any anti-Disapparation field an Auror put up, but so well-camouflaged by the crowd was Joe that the Aurors were taken totally by surprise. Drake had known there was an excellent chance that the curse would not hit its mark, though he'd thought a Killing Curse shield from an Auror would be the thing to stop it. The point was not specifically to kill Trent, but to shake up him and the wizarding world with such an audacious attempt. Drake thought it might very well have struck its target if not for Potter.

Potter. Clearly this was his effort to get out of the straitjacket Drake had placed him in, and Drake knew it might have worked. Drake didn't know how long it would take for the baby Potter phoenix to grow up, but he knew it could be as little as two months. He had to assume that was the deadline; he knew he would be running a great risk if his activities continued past that time. Clever of Potter, thought Drake, to do it there, with two hundred people around. If I'd fired the curse, or was around when Joe did, and there were only a few people there, I might have been able to disrupt the ashes and prevent the rebirth. Drake shrugged off as coincidence the irony of Harry's choice of whom to save; he assumed that anyone would have sufficed for Harry's purposes.

Drake was also fascinated by the event leading up to that: Weasley's very surprising challenge. It had been necessary to have Hugo explain to him how the Choosing worked; he was reasonably well-informed about British wizarding politics, but this was more like arcane trivia.

"So," he said, "Weasley has almost no chance to win this election."

"It's difficult to imagine the circumstances under which he'd win," agreed Hugo.

"Why do you think he's doing it?"

Hugo thought, then shook his head. "I can't think of any kind of reason. It makes no sense."

"Could Weasley have something on Trent? He waits until two days before, unleashes it, and that's that?"

"No. Not that he couldn't, but he wouldn't. I can't say that one hundred percent, but I'm pretty sure. Maybe he could justify it on the grounds that Trent would be a terrible Minister, but in doing such a thing, Arthur would be no better than Trent, and he wouldn't do it if only for that reason."

"Is there anything that could bring Trent down?"

"Not that I know of. His son is gay, but that shouldn't drag Trent to defeat even if it came out. People wouldn't oppose Trent just because of that, they wouldn't blame him."

"This isn't public. You know this because of your senses?"

Hugo nodded. "I'm told that my attractiveness is above-average, and when a woman meets me and finds me attractive, I know it immediately. If a man finds me attractive, I know that, too. I probably know more gay men in wizarding Britain than anyone who's not gay."

Drake chuckled without humor. "Very strange. So you can't even speculate on why Weasley did this?"

Hugo shook his head. "Lacking any other information, I would take his explanation at face value. But I got the vague sense from watching him that there's information about this that he's not sharing, some part of the reason he did this."

Drake nodded. "I'd like to know what that is, but security's going to be very tight for him and his inner circle, and I'm not going to take the chance of being found out. I can live with the mystery for two weeks."