Phoenix Intuition

Chapter Fourteen

Colin walked into the Muggle Liaison office one hour later, though his body had aged fifteen hours. "Good morning, Dudley," he said cheerily.

Dudley looked up in surprise. "I don't see what's so good about it. But you seem awfully happy."

Colin sat at his desk and started his computer. "Yes, I am. Very happy. But I have a feeling you're not going to want to hear about it."

Dudley shrugged. "Then you're probably right. But give me a hint."

"Luna."

"That was a very big hint. So, you two are... together now."

Smiling, Colin nodded. "In every way."

Dudley sighed and rolled his eyes. "And already, we're in 'more than I need to know' territory. Congratulations; I'm happy for you. Now, let us speak of it no more, and I do mean that. Unfortunately, I have news that's going to bring you down an bit."

Colin's browser was set to open to the homepage of America's most important newspaper; the headline was, 'Iran Invades Iraq', followed by the sub-headline, 'Ayatollah Calls On Iraqi People To Resist Infidels.' "Yeah, I see it. Doesn't look good."

"You on the Times?"

"Yeah."

"Fifth article down is about the Brits. Read that." Colin read, his eyes widening with surprise. He hadn't thought of that. He started to read, covering all of the war-related news. He didn't have time to read everything, so he missed the article buried in the International section, 'N. Korea Announces Surprise Military Exercises,' and the article in the National section, 'Vice-President's Youngest Son Killed In Auto Accident.'

Two hours later, they were as fully informed as they were going to get for the time being. Arthur was at Harry's home for a short rest between campaign events, so they went to brief him. Dentus and Luna were present as well; Colin gave Luna a smile, but tried not to be too distracted by her presence. Arthur was discouraged at the news, but not surprised.

"The most interesting thing about it," concluded Dudley, "and the thing we didn't expect, was that Iran is treating Britain differently. They're mainly attacking in the north, where the Americans are. For now, they're not attacking anywhere the Brits are. The Ayatollah has said he has no quarrel with the Brits, and doesn't want a war with them. He says if the Brits will leave Iraq, Iran won't attack them while they're leaving."

Arthur, too, was surprised. "Fascinating. He's trying to separate the Brits from the Americans, and Barclay is so angry at the Americans that it just might work."

Colin nodded. "It's a very clever move, politically. He must know British public opinion is against any more war, and Britain had nothing to do with what happened recently. Dudley and I popped out into Muggle London for a while and pretended to be reporters, asking people their opinion. We couldn't find anyone who thought Britain should stay. There's going to be huge pressure on Barclay to get out while he can. Iran is limiting its military options by not attacking in the south, so the offer won't be good forever."

Arthur shook his head sadly. "And if the Brits do leave, the Americans are in a very bad way. I'm tempted to say they deserve it, but the only one who really deserves it is their president, who won't suffer for it. The American troops don't deserve it. But, it's often others who suffer for our mistakes. I assume the Americans are bombing?"

"Oh, yes, as much as they can. The newspaper analysts think that America is going to fight more defensively, try to avoid casualties as much as possible, and just, as one guy on CNN put it, 'bomb Iran back to the Stone Age.'"

"International reaction?"

"Strongly anti-American. Iran may have invaded, but other countries are seeing Israel's bombing as the real provocation. Most countries are calling on America to stop the bombing, and Iran to stop its attack, but everyone knows that isn't going to happen anytime soon. There's not much to do now but watch, and see what happens."

Arthur's eyes reflected his pain at the prospect. "Okay, thanks, boys. Keep me informed if anything new happens."

Back at the office, Colin picked up one of the office's copies of the Prophet; to his surprise, it had an article at the bottom of the front page about Iran's invasion of Iraq, and it prominently mentioned that Arthur had worried that wizards had provoked the war, and that he had tried to stop it. He wondered if Arthur would get any credit among the wizarding public for his efforts.

* * * * *

The Choosing was only three days away, and Arthur's support had crept up to 34%; much better than the 26% reported in the last poll, but still nowhere near good enough. Most of the new support came from undecideds making their decisions, not people formerly supporting Trent but changing their minds. The goblin line on Arthur was up to thirty-eight, suggesting that the goblins thought that Arthur's energy-of-love support would net him an extra four percent.

A debate had finally been arranged; it would take place in Diagon Alley, in the largest open area, on Monday night. The terms had been decided by the Prophet, and agreed to by the candidates, over the past few days. The debate would be ninety minutes long, with no panel or moderator; the candidates would ask each other questions. The only restriction on the length of the answers would be one timekeeper, who would keep track of how long each candidate spoke; the total time each had spoken would be continuously displayed. If one candidate's total speaking time at any point exceeded the other's by five minutes, that candidate would be Silenced, and the other would be free to speak until the difference was only two minutes. Being publicly Silenced would not look good, so Arthur intended to keep a close eye on the time; he suspected Trent would as well.

A crowd started gathering at six o'clock, and by seven o'clock, more than two thousand people were crowded into the section of Diagon Alley in which the candidates would speak. A stage had been set up, with podiums and magical microphones for both candidates. At seven o'clock exactly, both candidates walked out, shook hands, and went to their podiums. Trent spoke first. "Good evening, and thank you all for coming out tonight. It clearly shows the great interest people take in our public affairs, and it is most heartening. Before we begin, however, there is something I would like to do."

One of Trent's aides walked onto the stage carrying a serving tray on which there was a tall glass of what appeared to be water. Trent took the glass, drank half of it, and placed the other half on a stool he Summoned from his side of the stage. "What I just drank, ladies and gentlemen, is Veritaserum. I challenged Undersecretary Weasley to a debate in which we both would drink it; he refused. It is still my prerogative, however, to drink what I wish, and so I have. If he wishes to drink the other half of the glass, he may do so. If not, I think we will all understand the reason."

Initially furious, Arthur calmed down quickly; partly because displaying temper would hurt him and help Trent, and partly because of Fawkes, who was perched on a street lamp about twenty feet away. He felt Fawkes' calming presence, and as Trent finished speaking, was forming a response. He did not, however, have a chance to make it.

The glass flew off the stool and was caught by Severus Snape, who walked in front of the stage as he Summoned it, careful not to let any spill. In one smooth motion, he caught the glass and drank its contents quickly. The crowd started murmuring; Trent looked outraged. "How dare you--"

Snape, without a magical microphone, had to shout to be heard. "This is not Veritaserum!" he shouted; his voice carried well enough for all to hear. "That is obvious, because if it were, what I said would be a lie, and I would not be able to say it. The fact that I can say it means it is true. Undersecretary Trent clearly intended to embarrass Undersecretary Weasley if he refused to drink it, and if Weasley did drink it, he would no doubt be asked some embarrassing questions which Undersecretary Weasley, thinking he was under the influence of Veritaserum, would feel compelled to answer. What Trent clearly does not understand is that Weasley would have told the truth anyway. Not being an adept politician, he is not good at lying." A chuckle ran through the crowd. "Trent thinks the only way to get the truth from someone is to make them drink Veritaserum, because it would be true for him. He cannot imagine someone speaking honestly for the sake of it."

"That is Veritaserum!" shouted a fuming Trent. "Snape is a Potions master, he has obviously developed a counter-agent for it!"

Snape turned to Trent, careful to still speak loudly so as to be heard. "And you think I just happened to be carrying it, on the chance that you would make such a challenge? You give me too much credit for resourcefulness."

This got another chuckle. "You are a Legilimens! You could have accosted one of my aides, and stolen the memory!"

"I see. So, you have been planning this trick for some time, have you? Would you care to tell us exactly who knew of it, and when?

Trent looked around. "Aurors! Take this man away! He is a murderer!"

No Aurors moved. "You do not command the Aurors," sneered Snape. "And yes, I was a murderer. I was a spy in the service of Voldemort, and when one purports to serve Voldemort, one must murder. Minister Bright understood this, and pardoned me for all that I did. Since Harry Potter undid what was done to me by Voldemort, I have harmed no one." Turning to stare at Trent, he menacingly added, "Even those who deserve it. You have repeatedly accused me of crimes I did not commit, to serve your political agenda, so I take special pleasure in revealing this shameful deceit. But I did not do it for that reason alone. I did it... because it was the right thing to do." He added emphasis to the last five words, words that had been the cornerstone of Arthur's campaign.

There was scattered applause; as Snape strode away, neither candidate spoke immediately. The timekeeper spoke up. "Undersecretary Weasley, since Professor Snape seemed to be speaking on your behalf, the time he took will be charged to you."

A small smile crossed Arthur's face. "I think it was more on his own behalf than mine, but I accept that with no protest. I will just add to that, to say that I don't know whether that was Veritaserum or not, but it doesn't matter; I wouldn't have taken it anyway, for reasons I've already made clear. I very much do not want to live in a society where someone can dare another to take Veritaserum, and assume from a lack of compliance that the person must want to lie. That is bullying and intimidation, pure and simple, and I will not countenance it. Make no mistake, what Undersecretary Trent did just now is symbolic of the society he will shape if he becomes Minister. Ask yourself if you really want to live in that society."

* * * * *

Three hours later, Ginny sat with Snape on a beach in Hawaii. "That was very impressive," she said, grinning. "Tell me, Severus, is there a counter-agent for Veritaserum?"

She saw again the smugness she had seen earlier. "No."

"So you did know he was going to do that. How?"

"I have had a few of Trent's aides under surveillance. He thinks I stole memories, but it was hardly necessary. People talk far too much, including his people."

"Have you been giving Archibald information?" He gave her a look, which she interpreted correctly. "Don't worry, I don't plan to tell Dad. I know he wouldn't want it done. I think you know I have fewer scruples than him, or Harry." She smiled as Snape nodded approvingly, but added, "That's why I know I'm never getting a phoenix."

He raised an eyebrow. "Does that bother you?"

"No, it really doesn't. Harry is one, and even if he can't bond with me, that's good enough. Not everybody is cut out for one, it's too much to really expect."

"Or to hope for?"

She met his eyes. "Honestly, I don't think I've ever hoped for one. I know you said that because of what I said, but I suppose everyone thinks about it when someone close to them gets one. Dad is now the fourth person close to me to get one, and it's bound to happen to Neville sometime. I was just thinking out loud. Anyway, about Archibald?"

"Yes, I have given him information I thought might be of use to him. It has probably not done a great deal of good, though it might have prevented difficulties that would have otherwise occurred."

"Well, I'm glad you did. Did you stay for the debate? I didn't see you later."

"No, I decided I did not wish to be accosted, which I felt was reasonably likely after my performance. I will retreat back into my usual silence."

"I have to admit, I was surprised you did that. It's not like you to talk about that sort of thing publicly."

He nodded his acknowledgment. "I was addressing his comment, but I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to publicly refute his continuing slanders. The Severus Snape before December 1997 was very different from the one after that time, but he willfully ignored that, as he does anything that does not suit his purposes. That is one thing I have always found disgusting about politics: partly that politicians--witness the recent actions of the Muggle American president--ignore realities that do not suit them, and commonly misrepresent the truth, but mostly, that such things are considered routine and expected, and politicians go unpunished for them. That is the people's fault, of course, for not pointing out what is obvious. So I suppose you could also say that in doing what I did, I was doing my civic duty."

She smiled. "If only everyone did that, Trent might not be Chosen. Anyway, you missed a good debate. Dad did quite well, at least I thought. Do you think what happened at the beginning will help him?"

"I am not a political expert, but the news that Fawkes joined your father will also be in tomorrow's Prophet. Between that and the debate, I would be rather surprised if he did not gain ground. However, I would advise you to not to get your--"

"Hopes up, I know. Don't worry, they aren't. There's still a few days left, and who knows what Trent has left up his sleeve."

* * * * *

Trent and his aides were in his office. "How much is that going to cost me?"

His aides had talked to many citizens after the debate, getting impressions. "About five points is our best guess," said one. "Maybe as much as seven or eight in the short term, but come Choosing day, some of them will come back."

Trent cursed. "We have to assume they won't come back. If they don't, you have Weasley going into the low forties. With the extra points he gets from the love magic people, that's the mid-forties. That is unacceptably close."

"Roger, we're not going to lose this," his senior aide assured him. "That's a worst-case scenario, and that considers his being chosen by the phoenix."

Trent glared. "You seem to be forgetting that when this started, we were looking at a forty-point blowout. Now, it could get as low as a ten-point margin! How am I going to get any respect if I can only beat Arthur Weasley, a nobody, by ten points?"

"You'll be the Minister," pointed out another. "You'll be respected."

The senior aide cut in before an angry Trent could respond. "I think the Undersecretary means that he won't be feared, which would lead to him not getting the respect he should get. Do you have any ideas, Roger?"

"Only one, something I've had in mind for a while. I was hoping it wouldn't be necessary, but now it is. We need to put out something about me."

The aides were confused, except for the senior one. "You mean, we put it out in such a way that it looks like it came from their camp, we cry about their dirty tactics, and he loses support. Not a bad idea. But what exactly are we going to put out there?"

Trent's expression was unreadable. "My son."

Even the senior aide was surprised. "We're going to put it out there that Paul is gay? That could break up his marriage, and what's Anne going to say?"

"His marriage is a lie. Judy would thank me in the long run; she's still young enough to find someone. As for Anne, she won't know that we did it. She won't be happy, but it's not as though no one knew anyway."

The senior aide thought it over. Trent was glossing over the pain it would cause his family, which Trent tended to do. He had known Trent long enough to know not to make arguments based on morality, only about politics. And the politics of this were excellent; what made it so personally damaging was exactly what gave it such a strong upside potential. Trent's family would suffer, causing many to think it was a very low blow from the Weasley side. "A phoenix just joined Weasley," he pointed out. "We can't say Weasley personally had anything to do with it, people just wouldn't buy it. It came from his camp, without his knowledge. It still works."

"We can suggest it came from Hogwarts," agreed Trent. "Either Snape or Granger has reason enough. Or, we don't say where we think it came from at all, and let people draw their own conclusions. A lot will point the finger at Weasley without any help from us."

"We only have three days left," said the aide, "so if we do this, we have to do it fast. We should be aiming for tomorrow's evening Prophet. Tomorrow night, we express our outrage, et cetera, which is Wednesday's lead story. Unless something very unexpected happens, it'll still be the main story by Thursday, when the Choosing is held. So, what are tomorrow's talking points?"

"Love magic," responded Trent. "From now until the Choosing, we focus on the likelihood that Weasley picks up an extra four or five points--we'll say it's five to ten, no one can prove us wrong--and talk about how unfair that is. Make it an us versus them thing, get our people worked up about the idea that more people could Choose me but I could still lose. Motivate people to get out there on Thursday, and whatever margin we win by, we suggest that it was really ten points more than that--"

In the living room of her home, Anne Trent tapped the picture frame with her wand; it went silent. Knowing her husband could Apparate home at any time, she had to go someplace private. She went to the bathroom, locked the door, turned on the tap and let it run, and started to cry.

* * * * *

Bob Rogers sat at his desk, thinking. His country was at war, a war that could have easily been avoided. Technically, his country had been attacked, but he knew the President had sought this war.

He wondered about his own responsibility. He had done as the mysterious man had asked, and advocated treating Iran harshly. Would this not have happened if I hadn't done that? If I had tried to hold him back, could I have succeeded? Of course, Jenny and the kids might well be dead, and me, under criminal investigation. Rogers knew, of course, about the accident that had killed the vice-president's son; he suspected that it was no accident. If so, the V.P. was being controlled the same way as he was. But there was no reason to bother to control the V.P., unless...

Rogers' assistant briskly walked into his office. "Mr. Secretary, it's Prime Minister Barclay, for you."

Rogers' eyebrows rose into his hair. "For me?"

"Yes, sir." He silently dismissed her, and quickly called Davidson. "Barclay is on the line for me. I want you listening." Rogers switched lines. "Mr. Prime Minister! I'm very surprised to hear from you. You know the President his been trying to get you all day--"

"I know that," said Barclay coldly. "I want to speak with someone whose words I will trust."

Rogers was taken aback; Barclay was usually quite polite. He must really be pissed, Rogers thought. "Yes, sir, but you really should speak with the President--"

"I speak with you, or no one at all. It is your choice."

Rogers had expected that, but had felt duty-bound to try at least once. "Yes, sir." He said nothing further, waiting for Barclay to say what he had to say.

"You should understand my position, first of all," said Barclay. "I had a verbal assurance from the President that he would take no action against Iraq without consulting me first. It did not occur to me that I needed to include action by others that was approved by him. I hope he will not attempt to insult me by suggesting he did not know about, or did not approve, Israel's strike. I strongly suspect that he in fact requested it. In any case, he has placed me in an impossible position. Were it not for the value I place on our countries' relationship, I would make this betrayal public. I may yet, if I judge it necessary."

"I understand, sir."

There was a grim smile in Barclay's tone. "I know you cannot say anything which would suggest disloyalty to your president, and I respect that. This call is simply to let you know where things stand. You know there is intense political pressure on me to accept the Iranians' offer and remove our troops; I am advised that my government will fall if I do not, and the next government surely would remove the troops. It is therefore not a question of if, but of when. Out of respect for your country's people and troops, I intend to delay my decision for as long as possible; the Iranians have quietly informed us that we have no more than a week to decide." Barclay paused, then added, "Our countries are allies, Mr. Secretary. I no longer consider this particular president to be my ally, and will treat him with the mistrust he has earned. I or Sir Philip will call you if I have more to communicate."

"I understand, sir," said Rogers. The line went dead.

In less than a minute, Davidson was in Rogers' office, eyes wide. "The President told him he wouldn't bomb Iran? Did you know that?"

"Of course not. It was a stupid thing to say, I have no idea why he did. Well, we're up a goddamn creek now." He sighed. "Time to see the President. This'll be fun."

* * * * *

The next evening, Dentus Apparated to the Hogwarts gate, and walked through. He preferred not to take the time to travel there, but it would look too suspicious to the others if Snape were to frequently Apparate to Harry's home. He made his way through the castle to Snape's office.

Snape was reading the evening Prophet as Dentus walked in. Snape nodded in greeting. "I suppose I do not need to tell you where this came from."

Dentus nodded. "Trent himself. The man's a real piece of work."

"One thing can be said for him: he is single-minded in the pursuit of his objectives," observed Snape dryly. "Will this have the effect that Trent obviously believes it will have?"

Sadly, Dentus nodded again. "Yes, it will. Arthur is through. He wasn't going to win anyway, but he can't come back from this."

"At such a time as this, it cannot help but occur to me that Voldemort wasted a great deal of time with his efforts to control wizarding society by force. He should have simply attempted to become Minister."

Dentus laughed. "As a former politician, I'd like to think he wouldn't have succeeded. But based on the way Trent behaves, I can see why you would say that."

"You cannot go to the Prophet and suggest that Trent himself did this?"

Dentus shook his head. "Trent is hoping I'll do that; it would just make us look worse. What he did works because of its sheer audacity; very few would believe Trent would do this. Suggesting that he did it would be seen as pouring salt in the wound." There was a silence. "The wizarding world is in for some dark times," said Dentus. "As, unfortunately, is Hogwarts."

Snape stood. "That reminds me, I should discuss these developments with the headmistress." Dentus headed back to Harry's home, and Snape, to the Great Hall, where Hermione was eating dinner. He pulled her aside and told her about his conversation with Dentus; she assured him that she had been keeping the portraits informed of the situation, and was confident that they would allow the vault to be opened if Trent tried to install a headmaster who was a front for the Ministry. She told him that now that Arthur's defeat was all but certain, she would talk to them again.

* * * * *

Anne Trent's day had been a busy one. She had refused to do her campaign chores, claiming illness, but had managed to go to Gringotts. Scrupulously fair, she only took half of the gold out of his vault. She packed and made other preparations. Earlier in the day, when he had stopped by their home, she had asked him who he thought had released the information about their son, he had said, "Someone in the Weasley campaign, probably Snape. He's a Legilimens, he can find out all kinds of secrets." She had nodded and said nothing more.

He arrived home at ten p.m.; she had a late dinner prepared, for which he thanked her. He had eaten half of his food and drunk half of his wine when she suddenly asked him a question. "Roger. Whose idea was it to tell the press about Paul?"

He looked at her in surprise, and answered quickly. "Mine." He glanced around, startled, as if someone else had said it.

She kept her emotions under control; she had long since cried the worst of them out. "Why? I mean, of course, to win the Choosing, but I mean, why did you disregard the pain it would cause me?"

"I didn't think you would find out."

"I mean, not the pain of knowing you did it, but just from the information coming out."

"That kind of thing doesn't factor into my political decision-making. Besides, you don't like that he's homosexual."

"Not so much that I would ruin him!" She reined in her anger, reminding herself that there was no point to it. "Do you even love Paul?"

"No, I don't. I would love him if he made me proud, but he doesn't."

"Why did you always tell me you did?"

"Because it was what you wanted to hear. It's true both in politics and in daily life: people want to hear what they want to hear, and you get what you want if you tell them that."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, I do."

She sighed unhappily. "Well, that's unfortunate, because I don't love you anymore. If you're wondering why you've answered my questions as you have, it's because there's Veritaserum in your wine. Professor Snape was right about one thing on Monday: that's the only way to get the truth out of you." She felt a little like telling him that she had borrowed an Invisibility Cloak, gone to Hogwarts, and asked Severus Snape for Veritaserum, which he had given her. He hadn't even asked what it was for; she could tell by his eyes that he knew, and that only shamed her more.

She didn't tell her husband that, however, because she felt much more disgusted than vindictive. She just wanted to get out. "I'm leaving, Roger. I'm told that the Veritaserum will wear off after an hour; it will be safe for you to speak after that. Don't look for me, either for political or personal reasons. I'll contact you if and when I want to, probably through a third party." Having already sent her gold and other possessions ahead, she Disapparated. Her stunned husband sat at the table in a mental fog, waiting for the Veritaserum to wear off.

* * * * *

Arthur awoke very early on Thursday morning, at five-thirty. The Choosing began at six o'clock, and it was tradition that the two contestants were the first two people to participate.

He would go through the day with his head held high, asking for last-minute support, but he knew he would lose. The last poll, taken the day after the revelation about Trent's son, showed Trent gaining support, and leading 63-36. The goblin line on Arthur had been forty-four after the debate; it now stood at forty.

Ginny had risen early to make breakfast for her parents, since the Hogwarts food wouldn't arrive in time before they left. To their surprise, Ron got up early enough to help, and did. James contributed by randomly changing the color of the food.

Arthur and Molly Apparated to Diagon Alley at ten minutes to six. There was already a good-sized crowd there; Arthur estimated that there were five hundred people. He imagined that the rarity of the event was a big draw. In Diagon Alley's biggest open space, there was a large, tent-like structure, which was clearly where the Choosing would take place. Hanging on the wall near the entrance was a portrait of the Arbiter. It spoke, loudly.

"Your attention, please!" The crowd immediately quieted down. "The Choosing now begins. When you enter, turn to your left if you wish to Choose Arthur Weasley; turn right if you wish to Choose Roger Trent. Two steps after you turn, you will see an Orb of Choosing. Direct one burst of magical energy into the Orb. Do not pause or waste time; many people must Choose today. After you Choose, continue walking; the path will curve toward the center of the rear of the structure. The two paths meet at the exit, so it will not be apparent to observers which contestant was Chosen by any particular person.

"My portrait will now be hung in the center of the structure, in such a way that I can observe both orbs, and the individuals doing the Choosing. It is a criminal offense to cast any spell other than the one that provides magical energy to the orbs. I will immediately notify the Aurors outside if there are any violations of this regulation. The Choosing will finish in sixteen hours; no person shall enter the structure to Choose after ten o'clock. At that time, the walls of this structure will disappear, revealing the Orbs. I will then announce the winner, who assumes the office of Minister immediately upon my announcement. The result of the Choosing is final, and cannot be appealed or reversed. Do you understand this, Arthur Weasley?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Do you understand this, Roger Trent?"

"I understand."

"The senior Auror will now move my portrait to the correct position. After he emerges, the two contestants will shake hands, then enter the structure together." Kingsley walked forward, picked up the portrait, and stepped inside. A minute later, he emerged, and gestured to Arthur and Trent. They grimly shook hands, and walked inside. The Choosing had begun.

* * * * *

Drake had considered some sort of disruption of the Choosing, but decided against it. One reason was that it was being very heavily guarded; twenty alert Aurors were in the area at all times. Another reason was that he was quite curious to see what would happen without disruption. This would be wizarding society's reaction to his actions, and he had set up events so that his victims could redeem themselves by reacting correctly. The American president had reacted selfishly and vengefully, and so his country was in a war it should have avoided. The wizarding society of Britain was faced with a stark choice. Roger Trent symbolized fear; Arthur Weasley symbolized restraint and moderation. Roger Trent told people what they wanted to hear; Arthur Weasley told them what they should know. Drake was sure that if Arthur Weasley had been Minister at the time of the broom battle, his father and brother would still be alive. Choosing Weasley would earn Britain a reprieve from his wrath, because it meant they were choosing more wisely than in the past. Having read the polls in the Prophet, however, he did not expect that they would.

* * * * *

Hermione had canceled classes for the day. Each Head of House, with the assistance of the prefects, took turns transporting groups of students to Diagon Alley by using the Owl Office fireplace, whose owners had agreed to allow it to be used for that purpose for the day.

Choosing went smoothly as the day wore on. The average wait to Choose was thirty minutes; Ministry volunteers did their best to ensure quickness by constantly reminding those in line that they should not approach the structure if they were still undecided, and not to pause while inside. Those in line chatted about whom they would Choose, and why.

The Daily Prophet had stationed a reporter near the exit, and he was asking every tenth person whom they had Chosen. Other Prophet reporters distributed this information throughout the day. From hour to hour, it varied relatively little: the numbers very nearly mirrored the last Prophet poll. After the first two hours, Arthur's support never fell below 34%, and never exceeded 39%. The numbers of course did not reflect the strength factor, but it was understood that except for the well-known energy-of-love situation, the per-person strength of those doing the Choosing would average out to be nearly equal.

St. Mungo's was having people take a half-hour off in shifts to participate in the Choosing; Pansy got in line at ten a.m. and was joined by Ron and Neville. Ginny came early in the afternoon, holding James; it was James' first time out in public since Harry had been trapped as a phoenix. Ginny knew they might be targets, but was reassured by the presence of twenty Aurors, one of whom had slipped into line right behind her. James attracted a lot of attention, which he seemed happy with, and proceeded to turn a few people various colors, to the delight of the onlookers. Ginny started fielding questions about how James was being taught magic without a wand, and at one point she was so close to being surrounded that the Auror had to disperse the crowd. Asked if she planned to let James Choose, she joked that he'd probably just turn the Orb orange.

Colin and Dudley came by in the late afternoon, Dudley just to watch the spectacle. Recognizing him from the Prophet, two people humorously offered Dudley their wands so he could Choose. Hermione and Snape Chose with the last group of Hogwarts students, and upon returning to Hogwarts, she asked to talk to him in his office. "Normally we'd go to the headmaster's office, but..."

"You want to discuss the portraits out of their hearing," Snape surmised.

"I had... a bit of a row with some of them last night," she admitted. "Mostly the older ones. They seem to have this high-and-mighty attitude since they've been there longer. Anyway, some of them were saying that before they'd give their approval to open the vault, they wanted me to show that I'd exhausted every other option, including--you're going to love this--"

"Kissing Trent's feet?" guessed Snape sardonically.

"Not far from it. They want me to 'put aside your pride,' as they put it, and go public with the stuff in the Pensieve. Admit what I did to Skeeter, be contrite, and so forth. Not to curry favor with Trent, they claim, but to get enough public support that Trent would be persuaded to let me stay."

Snape scoffed. "Idiots. I suppose they would have me do the same."

"Your situation didn't come up, but it stands to reason. They also said that if I did it and Trent still didn't back down, then they would support opening the vault; then at least I would have tried everything."

"And they do not realize that there is no chance at all that it would do any good?"

Hermione smiled a little. "Albus and Minerva led the argument against them; Minerva especially had some choice words for them."

Snape chuckled. "I can well imagine."

"Their argument was the same as mine, that Trent is determined, wouldn't listen to public opinion about this, and the principle of my doing it is bad. They were still talking about it when I left last night. Three of them seemed unalterably opposed to opening it unless I accepted their conditions; three others were opposed, but open to argument." Snape could tell from Hermione's tone how much it bothered her.

"If you cannot get ten to agree to open the vault..."

She sighed. "I don't know. One thing I do know though; before I do what they ask, I'll wait the month and a half for Harry to come back. I'll ask the teachers and staff to agree to their salaries being delayed, which I suspect they will, then when he comes back I'll ask him to conjure the money. I know he doesn't like to, but..."

"When he discovers the alternative, I am sure he will not hesitate. You know him more than well enough to know that."

"You're right, of course," she agreed. They were silent for a moment. "Are you going to go to the ceremony where the Arbiter announces the winner tonight?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I see no need to listen to Trent gloat. In addition, it would be easier for him to apprehend me."

She'd forgotten about that aspect of it. "Good point." As soon as the Choosing was over, she thought, they suddenly had to worry about people being arrested for political reasons. What a depressing thought.

* * * * *

At a little past nine o'clock, Luna and her father stood in line. Luna had briefly debated not taking part, since her Choice counting for what she guessed to amount to that of ten normal wizards seemed unfair, and she didn't want to use that power anyway. She was persuaded by her father, who argued that it was her civic duty, and that it wasn't her fault that the Arbiter had founded a system based on strength rather than equal representation. She also didn't mind because she knew Arthur wouldn't win anyway, so if the margin was smaller, that was no problem.

When it was her turn, she walked in and immediately turned left, following an arrow with 'Arthur Weasley' written above it. She saw the Orb, whose light she felt looked adequate but not as bright as she felt it should be. She raised her wand, and just as she readied to send the bolt of energy, an errant thought popped into her head, to the effect that it would be nice if Arthur's Orb were much brighter. Trying to help keep the line moving, she walked on before she saw her contribution reach the Orb.

* * * * *

At ten o'clock, the crowd in Diagon Alley was even larger than it had been for the debate. Aurors couldn't possibly protect everyone, but they did their best, and half were near the structure with the Orbs. Arthur and Molly were there, along with all other Weasleys, including Ginny with James. Trent was also there, but alone; no one wondered why his son wasn't there, but many whispered about his wife's absence.

Kingsley walked inside, then returned in a minute with the Arbiter's portrait, which he again hung near the entrance. "The Choosing is concluded," announced the portrait loudly. "The Aurors will please remove the covering of the structure, so the Orbs can be viewed." The walls and roof amounted to a thick tarp, so two Aurors had no difficulty pulling it down; the Orbs became visible just as the Arbiter spoke next. "The people have Chosen, as their Minister of Magic... Arthur Weasley."

The crowd gasped as the covering came down, showing that Arthur's Orb was visibly, though not greatly, brighter than Trent's. Every Weasley was astonished, Arthur most of all. Recovering quickly, Molly shrieked with pleasure, and hugged her husband. Dentus, Hermione, Neville, Colin... all who were watching were shocked.

Luna's reaction could be summed up in a single phrase: oh, no. She walked away from where she'd been standing, slightly behind Colin, and went to the nearest spot from which she couldn't be seen. She teleported to her bedroom, went back in time to a minute before she Chose, became a phoenix, and teleported to the inside of the Choosing structure, perching unobtrusively on a beam near the top. She watched herself walk in front of Arthur's Orb, shoot her energy at it, then walk away. Human Luna didn't see the Orb suddenly become substantially brighter, or the shocked reaction of the Arbiter, the only other witness to what had happened.

* * * * *

"What happened?" demanded an incredulous Trent. "This has obviously been fixed! I demand to know what happened!"

"The people have chosen," intoned the Arbiter.

Trent advanced on the portrait menacingly. "That's not good enough! How did this happen?"

"You have no standing to ask questions," replied the Arbiter; the crowd was almost silent, listening. "You accepted the challenge, and have lost."

"Arbiter," said Arthur, turning to him. "Who does have the standing to ask questions?"

"You do, and the senior Auror does."

Arthur nodded. He was still dumbfounded by what had happened, and thought the matter deserved a public airing. "Arbiter, do you know what happened?"

"You have won the Choosing." The Arbiter's face betrayed no hint of humor.

"Let me be more specific. Did more people Choose Undersecretary Trent than Chose me?"

"Yes." Murmuring spread throughout the crowd.

"How many more?"

"I do not count, but my impression was that it was substantially more."

"Why, then, was I Chosen?"

"Those who Chose you were, cumulatively, stronger than those who Chose your opponent."

Arthur tried not to sigh at the obvious truth of the answer. "You were the only witness to what happened. Can you tell us anything that would shed light on how the result came to be what it is?"

The portrait paused. "No. What happens inside is not to be revealed. No wizard's choice can be revealed, nor can his or her relative strength be related. I have told you all that I can."

"Is there anything that you will not tell us that, if we knew, would help us understand what happened?"

"You know what happened. You have been Chosen."

A small laugh actually went through the crowd; Arthur did sigh. "You know what I mean. I'll try again. Is there anything you will not tell us that, if we knew, would more fully explain why my Orb is brighter in spite of the fact that my opponent received support from more individuals than I did?"

"I will not answer that question."

"That portrait has been tampered with!" screamed Trent.

"How dare you!" retorted the Arbiter. "Every time there has been a Choosing, the losing candidate has made some similar accusation. I suppose it is the nature of people." He raised his voice, speaking to the crowd as well. "I say again, the Choosing is finished, and Arthur Weasley has been Chosen as Minister of Magic."

Arthur decided to have one more try. "Were any laws broken?"

"No."

"Were the Orbs tampered with?"

"No. And I must say that I have never seen anyone so reluctant to accept the job for which he risked everything he owned." This, too, got a small chuckle from the crowd.

"I'm not reluctant," protested Arthur. "You must admit, this is very irregular. The final Prophet exit poll was for Trent, sixty-one to thirty-nine. Kingsley, have your people measured the energy from the Orbs yet?"

"Yes, they have. Fifty-four percent of the total energy from the two orbs went to you." Kingsley stepped towards Arthur, and lowered his voice. "Arthur, the Arbiter is right. Strange or not, you are the Minister now. You'd better start acting like it."

A podium with a magical microphone had been set up, for the winner to give a speech. Arthur approached it uncertainly, never having thought he would have to do so, let alone under such bizarre circumstances. He felt as though he were an impostor, having won under a cloud, under false pretenses. With difficulty, he tried to shake himself out of that frame of mind. He took his place behind the podium; Fawkes flew over and settled on his shoulder.

"Well... I don't think any of us truly knows what happened, but there is really only one thing to think. Clearly, the love magic discovered by Harry Potter, and taught to several hundred wizards to date, is more powerful than was previously thought. So, due to the way the Choosing works, I stand before you as Minister despite having received the support of no more than four in ten of you.

"What that means to me is that I must work even harder to convince the other six of every ten of you that my having been Chosen may have been a quirk of fate, but it was not a mistake. I will be the Minister of all the people, not only those who Chose me. I will act for the benefit of all, not only those who Chose me. And if there are sacrifices to be made, I will ask them of everyone, not only those who did not Choose me." Arthur smiled as some of the crowd laughed. "I may not be a standard politician, but I do understand how such things normally work," he added wryly.

"You're a pretender! A fraud!" screamed Trent, who was immediately approached by two Aurors. Trent went silent; Arthur couldn't tell whether he had stopped shouting, or whether the Aurors had Silenced him.

"I'm the Minister," responded Arthur calmly, starting to feel like it for the first time. "You heard the Arbiter. Like it or not, peculiar or not, that was the result, that's the law." We're all stuck with it, including me, he almost added, and quickly decided not to. He had to sound like a Minister.

Feeling the calming energy from Fawkes more strongly than at any time since Fawkes had bonded with him, Arthur continued. "The position of Minister is a great responsibility. Dark forces still threaten our society; people continue to die every day. Now, the standard politician's comment about this is to say the Aurors should do better, or that I will support the Aurors in their quest to protect us. Naturally, I will do the latter, but it is not only the Aurors who must assume this burden; it is all of us. So far in this battle, one Dark wizard has been killed, and one captured. Neither was accomplished by Aurors. Lucius Malfoy was killed by a heroic house-elf who gave his life to protect the child of those who employed him. A deadly mercenary who had killed dozens of times was captured by a brave Muggle, Dudley Dursley, who acted on the spur of the moment to protect those around him. Any one of us may find ourselves in such a situation, and we must ask ourselves what we would do. The collective answer to that question will be what determines our fate in the coming days and weeks. I predict that when the ringleader of this terror is finally captured, it will not be an Auror who does it; it will be someone listening to me speak right now. We must support the Aurors, but even more, we must support each other. And, to quote both Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix statue in Hogsmeade Park, we must always choose what is difficult and right over what is easy and wrong. I didn't make many promises during this campaign, but I did promise to do that, and I will. Thank you all very much, and good night."

Arthur stepped back from the podium as the applause started, and built. Molly stepped up to him, gave him a kiss, and waved at the crowd, nudging him to do the same, which he did. Now, he thought, now comes the hard part.

* * * * *

Ten Hogwarts professors filed into the Golden Dragon, which due to the Choosing had been largely empty but was filling quickly. They were seated at a long table with Hermione at one end and Snape at the other. Hermione felt badly that Hagrid couldn't be there, but he wouldn't fit through the door, and wouldn't have been comfortable in a place like that anyway. Hermione, who drank very rarely, ordered wine, and other teachers made drink orders.

"So, Hermione," asked a pleased Sprout, "is Hogwarts paying for this? Or are you so happy that you decided to blow a third of a month's pay in one night? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

Hermione smiled. "I'm quoting a certain Hogwarts professor, on the night Arthur decided to challenge Trent: 'If Arthur Weasley is Chosen as Minister, I will buy all of the Hogwarts professors dinner at the Golden Dragon.' Can anyone guess who it was?"

Startled, most teachers turned to look at Snape. "I think, Headmistress, that your inept imitation of my tone rather gave it away," he said dryly.

She laughed. "All right, so mimicry's not my strong point. But thank you."

He shrugged. "I said it with no more expectation of it happening than does one who talks about hell freezing over. I simply did not want you to be able to remind me of it in the future."

Hermione wasn't sure that she believed him, but decided not to press him. "Well, this is a very good way to celebrate; the occasion is worthy of the place. Hogwarts is safe for another five years, and probably for good, since Trent is gone from the Ministry now. Which is really the icing on the cake."

"I don't know, Hermione," said Dentus. "There'll always be someone like him. Granted, most politicians wouldn't sell out their only son like he did."

"Oh, Archibald," said Flitwick, "Arthur has four Undersecretary slots to fill now. Any idea who he's going to appoint?"

"Looking to move up, are you?" jibed Snape.

"Oh, by all means, you first, Professor," retorted Flitwick. The others laughed.

"Anyone who attempts to get me appointed as an undersecretary will promptly find a rather nasty potion in his or her pumpkin juice," rejoined Snape to more laughter.

"It's funny because it's true," chuckled Dentus. "But no, we haven't discussed it, for the same reasons no one talks about what kind of ice sculptures they're going to make in hell. And by the way, it's five slots; you're forgetting about Trent, who's no longer an undersecretary."

"Knowing Arthur, his first appointment will be Remus Lupin," said Snape sourly. "Just to remind everyone of what a kindly and misunderstood folk werewolves are."

"It wouldn't surprise me," agreed Dentus. "I'll talk to him about it tomorrow, but my first priority will be regarding the open Hogwarts' governors spot."

"Which, I hope, you will encourage him to leave open," urged Snape.

"Exactly. As long as they only have eleven members, they can do nothing. Probably with Trent gone, they'd go back to their old toothless selves, but as far as I'm concerned, they betrayed their trust by trying to bring back Umbridge. I'm hoping I can persuade Arthur that the 'right thing to do' is to make sure the governors remain impotent."

Snape shrugged. "I have potions that can accomplish that."

The teachers again laughed, more than they otherwise would have because of the source of the joke. "You're in quite a good mood," smiled Sprout. "Buying dinner, making jokes... I suppose there's nothing like the threat of persecution being lifted to raise your spirits."

"It is, I freely admit, more like Schadenfreude; the man made me his political piñata, and fate has just delivered him a devastating blow in the place where it hurts the most. It is difficult not to be quite pleased. I suspect that even the headmistress, phoenix companion and user of the energy of love though she is, is having a difficult time as well."

Hermione nodded, trying not to smile. "The thought has occurred to me." She looked into her left hand, listened, and smiled. "I'll keep it in mind," she said, and put her hand down. "He says that all the Aurors who aren't on duty are celebrating, and that I should come if I wanted to. I probably won't, though, since tomorrow is a school day. Even this is staying up late, for us."

"It's worth it," said John. "We can sleep in on Saturday morning. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and we should celebrate."

The waiter brought their drinks. Hermione lifted her wine glass, and looked around the table. "To Arthur Weasley."

"To Arthur Weasley," repeated the others, and they all clinked their glasses with anyone within reach. To Luna Lovegood, thought Snape as he drank, who is doubtless suffering even as we celebrate.

* * * * *

"I shouldn't have participated," moaned Luna, head in her hands. She was at her father's home; Colin was there was well.

"You didn't do anything wrong," argued Colin. "That's the way the system is; it rewards wizards for being powerful--"

"I didn't know I was that powerful! If I had, I never would have Chosen! I just single-handedly Chose our next Minister of Magic!"

"At least you Chose well," said her father humorously, even though he knew it wouldn't make her feel any better.

"I overrode the will of the people!"

Her father decided to abandon any further attempts at humor; rarely had he ever seen his daughter so agitated. "Luna, honey... there's a very large difference between deliberately using your powers to affect the world, and doing so by accident. We do things accidentally all the time; it's very human. You didn't hurt anyone."

Tears were behind her eyes. "Then why do I feel so bad?"

Her father took her hand. "It's hard to know, of course, but I have a guess. I think that you're afraid of something happening to you like what happened to Harry, on nine-eleven, so you're extremely reluctant to do anything that will have any effect, anything you couldn't have done with your normal magic."

She nodded miserably. "That makes sense. At least no one's going to know; thank goodness that there was another plausible explanation for what had happened, and that the Arbiter didn't point a finger at me. I was so afraid he would, I was just wishing Arthur would stop asking questions. I wonder why the Arbiter didn't tell them what happened, anyway."

"There are very specific guidelines about what he can say," said her father. "I think he wanted to protect the integrity of the process, and saying what happened might cast doubt on its validity. Now, that's just a guess. But I do think that he felt that what happened was perfectly legitimate. I mean, if you think that the strongest wizards should have the most influence, then it makes perfect sense that someone who's supremely powerful should have supreme influence. I really think that he thinks that's as it should be."

She sighed. "I can see that. It's still a very strange system, though."

"That may be, but what happened isn't your fault," said Colin earnestly.

She moved closer to him and threw her arms around him. "I suppose it doesn't matter if it's my fault or not, it just is. I'd better get used to it."

* * * * *

An hour later, Arthur and Molly finally got into bed; it was later than usual, and Arthur would have a busy day tomorrow. Molly took her into his arms. "My brave man," she said, squeezing him.

"Brave? For risking everything we owned?"

She shook her head. "For risking actually becoming Minister. We both know this is the last thing you wanted. You risked it because stopping Trent was important."

He smiled wryly. "Harry owes me for this."

She laughed. "I'm sure that once he comes back, he'll see that you get political support as you need it."

"No, I didn't mean that. I still don't want him getting involved. I know that I need a certain amount of approval to be seen as legitimate, but at the same time, a Minister has all kinds of power that he can use unilaterally; look at all that Fudge did six years ago. I see this as, five years and I'm out." Ministers who won a Choosing could not, by law, be challenged again for five years; this law was so that Ministers could not be constantly challenged by different people. "Most Ministers, if their approval drops too low, have to worry about an insurrection by their undersecretaries." Another way to depose a Minister was by unanimous agreement of the undersecretaries; this was very rare, since Ministers chose undersecretaries, and usually did not become Ministers without their support. "I don't have to worry about that; I could be Minister with a five percent approval rating if I wanted to. Don't worry, I don't want to, but you see my point. I won't involve Harry unless I absolutely have to. I'll do what's right, and my approval rating will take care of itself."

She smiled. "Like I said, my brave man. So, do you think it was the energy of love that put you over?"

"At first I thought so, but some people from the Prophet talked to Kingsley and I a little while ago. They did the arithmetic, based on the Prophet's exit poll being accurate, which they're sure it is. Based on the known number of energy-of-love users and the total proportion of energy in the two orbs, for this result to happen, each energy-of-love user would have to have magical strength equivalent to eleven normal wizards."

Her eyebrows went high. "That seems unlikely."

"Yes, Kingsley and I thought so too. There's going to be a Prophet article about it, of course, and the article will speculate on the possibilities. One is that what I just said is what actually happened; another is that the energy of love affects the orbs in some way we don't understand. A third possibility, one I hadn't considered but starts making more sense the more I think about it, is... another Harry."

"You mean, someone who can do what he does."

Arthur nodded. "If that's the case, whoever it is is keeping very quiet about it. I can understand that; if I could do that, after what happened to Harry, I'm not sure I'd tell the world about it."

"Whoever it is, if it is that, can probably become a phoenix," pointed out Molly. "So, the phoenixes would know. Did you ask Fawkes?"

"I don't think my bonding is far enough along for me to ask and answer questions like that. But I do know that I wouldn't ask anyway. It would be... inappropriate."

"Because that person obviously wants privacy, and you'd be asking Fawkes to violate that privacy," she realized. "I suppose I can see that. Well, whatever happened, you're the Minister. You just have to get in there, and do what's right."

"And in so doing, I will be politically rewarded," he joked.

"No, probably pilloried. But you're not going to let that stop you."

"No," he agreed, and kissed her. "No, I'm not."

* * * * *

Drake had been dumbfounded at the result of the Choosing, and was hardly reassured to know that Hugo was as well. He wasn't overly bothered, however, partly because of the effects of killing with the ring. He knew he was addicted, but it didn't bother him, because he was keeping track of how many he killed, being careful not to overdo it.

He'd been prepared to let wizarding Britain off the hook if Weasley had won the Choosing, but this was different. Trent had truly been the people's choice, and Weasley only won because of a fluke, and some arcane election laws. If there was a society-wide consensus, it was one that approved of someone who took the measures that Trent would take. He would continue the violence in Britain.