Chapter 55: Politics, Military, Virtue
3:57 PM, June 14th, 1992.
"Magical Britain," said the skull of a decaying corpse in a voice that hurt their ears. "You stand accused of crimes against humanity. You are extremely guilty of cruel and unusual punishment, enacted against your own citizens over the course of centuries. Your pleas are irrelevant, for I find you responsible." Wizards and witches were falling unconscious, seemingly unable to endure the aura. "The sentence is death by Dementor's kiss."
At the conclusion of this deadly, hollow threat, the panic and pandemonium came to an abrupt end. The screaming/begging/pleading from the 'dignified' Wizengamot came to an end. The useless casting from the aurors came to an end. The fainting of bureaucrats came to an end. Everything was silenced in an instant.
Three clicks from the Line of Merlin had forced everything and everyone to stop. The clicks had also forced all (currently awake) eyes upward, where stood on thin air an ordinary-looking magical pony. The sucking emptiness was gone. The aura of dread was gone. The painful voice was gone.
"…is what a massive hypocrite would say."
The cloaked and bespectacled pony used a conversational tone, speaking less formally to the members of the Wizengamot who were still conscious. Which, coincidentally enough, only seemed to be those who had not 'sided with Dementors'.
"As a former Dark Lord," continued the pony, "it's not my place or my competence to criticize the morality of others. But it IS my place to applaud the political and practical implementation of torture. I understand that even Voldemort had to work hard to rival the fear of Azkaban. Well done for giving your worst Dark Lord in history something he strove to outdo. Though I suppose it's not all of you who need this speech." He flicked a hoof at the two areas where the most people were unconscious – the faction of bureaucrats from the Ministry and the faction of blood purists. "It's always pathetic to encounter those who have grown old before they grew up. Some of them may have been wizened by age, but none of them have been wizened by wisdom."
The remaining members of the Wizengamot were speechless. Even Amelia Bones didn't seem to know what to say, the Line of Merlin sitting still and forgotten on the podium in front of her.
"Which is why they'll be going on a field trip to Hogwarts. It seems their education was lacking in some regards, and I know a good remedial teacher."
Bodies rose into the air, floating towards the pony while surrounded by a grey glow, the same as came from the pony's horn. This caused something of an outcry, and a number of attempts to stop him.
"Don't worry," the pony said with an evil grin. "They won't be killed or maimed." The grin left as quickly as it had come, replaced by formal neutrality. "Ms. Bones," he addressed the Chief Warlock. "Aurors who come too close shall be stunned. Any adult who tries to interfere will be stunned. Other consequences may also be inflicted. But watching from a distance is perfectly fine. A Floo to Hogsmeade and a broomstick to the lake will get you there in time to catch the end, if you can convince a professor to admit you through the wards."
At that, the pony and just over half the Wizengamot disappeared in a bright flash, leaving behind a still-speechless remainder.
There was a brief silence.
Then someone pointed out that a foreign Dark Lord was going to visit the school of their children.
The session was adjourned not by the Chief Regent, but by the panicked departure of a number of nobles, and the slightly less frantic departure of the concerned and curious bureaucrats who followed them, which left the chamber almost entirely empty.
When the members of the Wizengamot came back to consciousness, most were relieved to not be dead. Others were briefly and pleasantly surprised to see the Hogwarts Lake lit by a late afternoon sun, though some of them suddenly wondered if that meant they had died.
All of them were unpleasantly surprised when they realized they were unable to move. They also seemed to be standing in rather uncomfortable, hunched-over positions.
Various forms of jostling informed them that their forced stillness had nothing to do with spellwork and everything to do with the fact that their necks and wrists were clasped somewhat tightly by a flat, solid object. The more perceptive members immediately realized what it meant: they stood in wooden stockades, like those used for public humiliations over a century ago, though not in recent decades.
Other members were more focused on their surroundings than their prison, allowing them to realize that they were not alone with each other. Somewhat to the side of their field of vision stood two identical, grinning faces. Many noticed the orange hair and realized what it meant. Those with children in Hogwarts, and especially children in Slytherin, have heard many stories about the Weasley twins.
The (in)famous pranksters stood beneath a giant sign with a list of items and prices, such as...
Soft Tomatoes: Free
Itchy Tomatoes: 3 Knuts
Sneezy Tomatoes: 6 Knuts
Colour-Splat Tomatoes: 5 Knuts
Tomato Tomatoes: 7 Knuts
Surprise Tomatoes: 4 Knuts
...and so on.
"Now that you are all awake," said a voice, "We may start."
It had been the last voice they'd heard before fainting, except it no longer hurt their ears to hear it. A clopping sound was made, followed by that accursed creature walking slowly into their collective field of vision.
"All of you," it addressed them, "voted to condemn a being over whom you thought you had power. Therefore, all of you have forfeited the right to complain when you are condemned by someone else who has power over you. Unless, of course, you are hypocrites, which many of you are. Power is the ability to be a hypocrite and get away with it, after all. But now that you no longer have the power in this situation, you should understand that you will no longer be allowed to get away with it."
There were a few gulps of fear. Not necessarily at the words- more at the pointed glare the pony gave to a few faces in particular. There were also a few attempts at protestation, but those who tried quickly learned of the silencing charm.
The creature, seeming to notice their fear, stared for a long moment as if about to say something, then sighed, seeming to decide to say something else. "Fortunately for you, I am trying to be a better pony. I'm not going to give you a Dementor's kiss, though I do have that power. I'm also not going to crucify you, or maim you, or even allow you to be permanently hurt. I'm not even going to glue you naked to the ceiling, like the Quibbler once reported. No, traditional folk such as yourselves deserve traditional punishments."
The creature's horn glowed, and David Monroe was suddenly standing before them all.
"Imperio," said the creature, pointing its horn at Monroe, though you couldn't actually see any spell bolt, nor were there any visual indications that the spell had taken effect, which was normal for that curse.
Some of the Wizengamot members gasped, though they produced no sound.
"You are under my Imperius curse," said the horse to Monroe, who didn't seem to do anything in reaction. "You know you are under my Imperius curse," ordered the horse.
Monroe still said nothing, but he stared at a few of the Wizengamot members in particular and grinned.
"Acting as much as yourself as possible, do what you think I would want you to do under these circumstances," said the horse. "But first, cast tempus."
The man did so.
"You are released exactly one hour from that spellcast, or once the lesson sinks in, whichever you prefer."
Then the horse disappeared, leaving only Monroe in the foreground and the red-headed twins in the background.
"Well," said the man, still sporting that grin. "Now that I am under the Imperius curse, with all of you as witnesses to the spelling…" His gaze continued tracing the once-'Imperiused' Death Eaters. "I cannot be legally punished for anything that I do while under its effects, which may or may not last longer than an hour. And since the Imperius is undetectable without a specific counter-spell, which I will not allow to hit me, there is no way to confirm or falsify that I am actually under its effects right now."
The twins behind him burst into laughter.
Those who had used that excuse to commit dread acts without legal consequences began to sweat nervously.
The man brought a wand to his throat.
"Attention all Hogwarts students," he said, though his voice didn't seem to be amplified. "Your final defense class of the year shall be held on the lawn in between the lake and the castle. Attendance is not mandatory, but last minute Quirrell Points might be granted or subtracted, and the outcome of the House Cup-" (which was snitched by Slytherin last night) "-might be influenced. Fairly influenced, of course. This lesson will be unlike any other I've taught this year. Even if you do not directly participate, you won't want to miss it. Simply come and enjoy the show. All years are welcome. You have fifteen minutes to arrive before we begin the practical. The lecture will be at the end, exactly one hour from now."
Then the man lowered his wand from his throat and brought it to bear, beginning his work.
A simple wave lifted lines of loam from the ground, waist-high walls about one metre wide. The first was five metres from the stockades, followed by another one ten metres away, followed by another fifteen metres back, followed by a final wall at twenty. The closest section was labeled for first and second years. The next one was labeled for third, fourth, and fifth. The third wall back was marked for sixth, seventh, and professors. The final wall was labeled 'bonus'.
Before students began trickling in, Monroe transfigured a few signs into existence, in such a fashion that the stockaded crowd could see.
Tomato thrown: +1 Quirrell Point.
Partial Hit: +2 Quirrell Points.
Direct Hit: +3 Quirrell Points.
Throwing at a younger station: -3 Quirrell Points
Hitting from an older station: +5 Quirrell Points
Throwing at a fellow student: -100 Quirrell Points
These signs were strewn about the dirt mounds. Some floated towards the trapped heads and hands, locking themselves above or below various members. As the signs floated towards them, the Wizengamot members could clearly see that rules had been written on the back of the signs as well:
Tomato thrown: -1 House Point, -1 Quirrell Point
Partial Hit: -2 House Points, -2 Quirrell Points
Direct Hit: -3 House Points, -3 Quirrell Points
The man brought a finger to his lips and made an exaggerated 'shush'ing gesture while wearing a conspiratorial smile, as if he'd just shared a secret with them. Not that they could have spilled the secret, being silenced and all.
After fifteen minutes a large amount of students had arrived, as well as a few professors.
"The Wizengamot," the Defense Professor said, wand to his throat once more, "requires that these wizards and witches be publicly shamed, preferably by young children. Tradition dictates that thrown tomatoes are appropriate. You will receive my final lecture of this school year after..." he made a show of casting tempus "...forty-three minutes have passed. Feel free to earn or lose as many points as you can. No magic is to be used upon them aside from what is already contained in the tomatoes. You will suffer legal consequences if you use your wands, and I will be on the lookout. Otherwise, have fun."
He added a quick, quiet whisper behind the shoulders of a few students in particular, the ones who recognized most of the faces and seemed about to say something. "Minus one thousand Quirrell Points if you spoil the surprise," said that whisper.
Some of the students asked questions along the lines of:
"What does this have to do with Battle Magic?" (from Ravenclaw)
"Is there a trick to it?" (from Slytherin)
"This doesn't seem right." (from Hufflepuff)
"So this is what's going to get him fired." (from Slytherin)
Is that my FATHER? (also mostly from Slytherin, though this question was not asked aloud)
But these voices were easily ignored by the majority of students who took the challenge at face value. Eager children rushed the tomato stand, some with coin in hand, then rushed to the mounds of dirt with their acquired arsenals.
A magical display floated above the stockades, keeping score:
Gryffindor: +1 Quirrell Points
Slytherin: +0 Quirrell Points
Ravenclaw: +0 Quirrell Points
Hufflepuff: +0 Quirrell Points
As students began throwing tomatoes, the professors who'd shown up out of curiosity/apprehension didn't seem to know what to do. The Defense Professor was more magically powerful than all of them put together, and he was also fireproof... maybe.
Professor Sinestra and Madam Hooch looked like they wished to intervene, but they did not have the authority of the Headmistress. They had both been Slytherins as students, not Gryffindors, and thus lacked the bravery to confront him as peers. Professor Flitwick wore a disapproving frown, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. Professor Snape wasn't present at all. The Headmistress was currently visiting Professor Sprout at St. Mungos in the hopes to have the Head of House Hufflepuff back in time for the leave-taking feast, so neither of them were here. And none of the school's other professors had shown up, though one last member of the staff was there.
The Keeper of Grounds and Keys handed out knuts to some of his favourite students.
Fifteen minutes into the exercise (thirty minutes since the tempus), the silencing was removed and the Wizengamot all began to shout at the children who were throwing fruit at them. Or they tried to shout. Many were too occupied with the sneezing/laughing/crying hexes. (The Weasley twins are rather competent in their pranking potions effects.)
And even those that could speak were unsuccessful at suasion. Shouts that they are MEMBERS OF THE WIZENGAMOT and THERE WILL BE GRAVE CONSEQUENCES were... mostly ignored. The Gryffindors completely ignored the threat. Some of the Slytherins laughed at what they believed to be a lie, then kept throwing. Other Slytherins quietly stopped participating. Other Slytherins laughed at what they knew to be true, and continued targeting their parents' political rivals. One or two continued targeting their parents. Many of the older Ravenclaws who had been throwing stopped at the threats, but most of the younger ones didn't. And the Hufflepuffs, who had been the least enthusiastic participants, but couldn't quite convince their youngest house mates to not join in on the fun, managed to convince a few more members of their house to stop throwing tomatoes.
A clever Wizengamot member tried to say that students were losing house points, not gaining them, by throwing tomatoes.
Professor Monroe said loudly that only professors may deduct points.
When that member said David Monroe intended to deduct house points from tomato throwers, Monroe replied that the man was just trying to avoid punishment.
The man was then hit in the face with a conveniently accurate tomato whose spelled effect silenced any further comment.
Thirty minutes into the exercise (forty-five since the tempus), adults began arriving on broomsticks, many wearing plum-coloured robes.
They were told by David Monroe's quiet voice over their shoulder that this is Prince Excelsior's will. The pony cast Imperius on him and he will not let anyone interfere with this lesson. By force if necessary. It will end in fifteen minutes, and a lesson must be learned.
This prevented any interference, despite a few close calls.
"Pay no attention to the arriving adults," said the Defense Professor in a way that the students heard as well. "They are just here to ensure the will of the Wizengamot is brought about."
This satisfied the suddenly-apprehensive Ravenclaws who had noticed the new arrivals. The nervous Hufflepuffs who looked at the arriving adults were not quite satisfied by the Defense Professor's words. The Gryffindors either didn't notice or, again, didn't really care, even after it was pointed out to them. And the Slytherins, who all had their own little motivations for throwing or not throwing, weren't especially influenced by the new arrivals either.
The scoreboard continued keeping tally until it had reached:
Gryffindor: +1337 Quirrell Points
Slytherin: +840 Quirrell Points
Ravenclaw: +717 Quirrell Points
Hufflepuff: +455 Quirrell Points
Forty-three minutes into the exercise (an hour since the tempus), David Monroe brought a wand to his throat and said, "Stop."
A wave of his wand changed the signs to their opposite/hidden sides.
Gryffindor: -1337 House Points
Slytherin: -840 House Points
Ravenclaw: -717 House Points
Hufflepuff: -455 House Points
"Anyone who threw a tomato, you are an absolute idiot."
This ended the joyful festivities.
The Defense Professor stood still, seeming to seethe angrily, but those closest to him realized his heavy breathing came from the building of arcane might – more than he had ever demonstrated before. More than almost anyone present had ever felt before. Many students took several steps back. The Professors began stepping backward. Some of the Wizengamot members in the air flew in reverse, and the aurors and experienced duelists raised wands and shields from pure battle instinct, though nobody threw anything offensive.
Once the magic was tangible and visible in the air around him, he aimed his knobbed (knobbed?) wand and bellowed "Alohomora!"
The stockades – one giant wall of painted wood with many head-and-hand openings – briefly glowed grey as the spell connected, then the entire board flashed brightly. A loud, ghostly 'clicking' sound was made, even though there were no visible locks. The entire structure split open, the lower front half fell forward, and the targets all fell out along with it.
The witches and wizards who stumbled from the stockades still wore their plum-coloured robes, large "W"s clearly visible in the evening light. This had not been visible before, from any angle, as the structure was box-like: a long, thin, multi-leveled, hollow, rectangular prism. The stockades had concealed everything about those contained within except their hands and faces.
Now that the robes, and thus the nature of the prisoners had been revealed…
"Have I taught you nothing?" the Defense Professor demanded of his students. He had been introduced to all of Hogwarts as David Monroe earlier that morning. Rumor had quickly circulated that he was the main wizard who had fought Voldemort in the early seventies, and many saw him as the next Dumbledore before he disappeared.
"You never aggress unless you are confident you can win, or gain some advantage," the man lectured. "You never target someone unless you understand the threat they pose to you. These are the country's most powerful politicians! And the most vicious and vindictive ones at that! Consider them to be basilisks. You never want their gazes upon you. They are like Dark Lords in miniature. To anger them is to make your lives miserable. Unless you have the power to enforce your will upon them, which you do not. And even if you did, rule 1 is to not go around making strong, vicious enemies! My deductions stand. Congratulations Gryffindor, for reaching a new historical low. I don't believe Hogwarts has ever seen such a massive negative number."
The Weasley twins cheered at this, though they weren't joined by the rest of their house.
"Congratulations Slytherin," the Defense Professor continued, "for losing the House Cup. Congratulations Ravenclaw, for at least managing to remain in the positive. Hufflepuff, I believe genuine congratulations are in order. You are by far the house with the most common sense, and it has just won you the House Cup, as it has been winning you the cup all year. Or rather, the stupidity of the other houses has lost them the cup, as it has been losing them the cup all year."
"Quite," said the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, who had himself been sorted into Hufflepuff back before Snape was a professor. He didn't have any true political enemies, at least among the student body of Hogwarts, so he wasn't the target of any of the nastiest tomatoes, and he was lucky enough that none of the enchanted ones hit him at random.
The other members were variously coughing/sneezing/scratching themselves, or suffering from the many other effects the Weasley twins thought to include. Colour-changing enchantments were a common one, with lime green and hot pink and bright yellow being the three available colours. The enchantments were done in such a way that they blotched together when combined. They didn't blend, leaving some faces and hands looking like bastardized versions of the muggle camouflage uniforms worn by the armies. There were also sparkling jinxes, comedy caricature potions, horn-growing hexes, and other minor spells that any adult of average power should be able to counter.
The dispelling attempts made by the members of the Wizengamot utterly failed. They were waving their wands and saying counterspells, the most common being 'finite incantatum', but nothing was happening.
"Your final mistake," continued David Monroe as he began the disenchantments himself, one by one, "was that you trusted me, the Defense Professor of Hogwarts, to be straightforward with you. I might have been a Polyjuiced imposter, or a Metamorphosed imposter, or Confunded, or even under the Imperius, and none of you thought to check! But above all, you should have remembered the lessons I taught you. Especially those of you in first year. The stupidity of those Slytherins who thought it would be great fun to publicly beat up the Boy-Who-Lived? If you threw a tomato, you just topped them a thousand-fold. If you did not, you deserve applause for your common sense."
"Hem hem," said a voice that was not marred by sneezing or coughing. Her face, however, was marred by more visual effects than any other, as if it had been a game to the students to see who could make it the most grotesque. Among other things, she primarily looked like a massive, swollen tomato. (A result of the Weasley's 'tomato' tomato). Or rather, she was quickly unswelling from looking like that now that Monroe had used finite on her. She was also losing her devil horns and fangs. "Well said, Professor," said Dolores Umbridge. "I see you are quite sensible now that the Imperius has worn off."
IF it wore off, thought many members to themselves.
Or was cast in the first place, thought a certain segment of those members.
"And you!" he whirled on her, and the politicians and bureaucrats in general. "Your stupidity is a thousand times worse than theirs! The creature you saw fit to anger is more powerful than any witch or wizard alive! I barely had enough strength to undo the locking charm he casually cast, and I am wielding the Elder Wand!"
There were gasps from the students, and from the professors, and from the watching aurors, and from the Wizengamot, both the plum-coloured robes on the ground and the ones riding broomsticks in the air.
"You do not go around provoking strong, vicious enemies," the man repeated. "You do not threaten any creature when you do not know how dangerous it is. The students might be forgiven for not knowing your status, for not believing your claims about your…" his tone developed an extreme amount of sarcasm "…'wizened' nature." Then it returned to scathing. "You do not get the same excuse as the children. You learned of that creature's exploits in the Daily Prophet this very morning! You were reminded of them at his trial! He destroyed the entire world's Dementor population. You should have imagined him as a Dark Lord at the height of his power. You should have looked at him like you would look at Lord Voldemort, or Gellert Grindelwald, or a furious Albus Dumbledore. For those of you who just scoffed, that last one is a sight you are all lucky you have never seen. If these children are thousand-fold fools for angering you, then you are million-fold fools for angering him! I told the children to treat you all like basilisks, to never draw your angry gazes. Now, as a wizard on par with Dumbledore and Voldemort, I tell you the same. I would order it if I could. Treat that pony like a Basilisk. Do not draw his angry gaze. You are lucky he did not kill you all. You had no way of knowing every little detail about him, the same as the children had no way of knowing every detail about your own collective status. But you could have guessed, and you could have chosen to heed his claims, just as the children could have chosen to heed yours."
Not a single Wizengamot member on the ground found anything reasonable to say in their own defense. Not a single member found anything to say at all.
The man, seemingly done with his rant, turned to face the silently-watching, broomstick-mounted plum coloured robes.
"Lucius Malfoy," he intoned, drawing sudden surprise from the crowd below and above. "Explain why you did not vote against that creature despite your political leanings. I think your answer shall prove valuable to everyone present."
Eyes were drawn upward to Lord Malfoy, who sat tall and proud on his broomstick. "Son," he addressed.
"Yes father?" replied a voice in the crowd. Eyes were now drawn to Draco below.
"Answer his question," said Lord Malfoy. "I had you read the Daily Prophet this afternoon. I highlighted the claims about the creature who attacked Azkaban. That creature proved to be real, the claims proved true, and it was brought before the Wizengamot an hour ago. You were not at the trial, of course, but I know you can explain why I refrained from a vote against it."
After a brief pause to think, Draco Malfoy drew himself up. His voice projected to the crowd without assistance from any spell. "It is the wisdom of House Malfoy," said the young scion, "to recognize power. Father trained me from birth, just as he was trained by his father. When someone else is more powerful than you, you do not get angry. You do not become jealous. You do not throw a temper tantrum. Even if you can't say it out loud, you admit to yourself that they have power. You can oppose them if they're on the other side, like we did with Dumbledore, but you have to respect what they bring to the table, whether that's influence or popular support or just raw magic. And if they're a Dark Lord, you don't anger them if you can avoid it. Ever."
"Exactly correct," said David Monroe. "Ten Points to Slytherin. Though I will add the addendum that you may anger Dark Lords after you have thoroughly destroyed them, or while you are in the act of doing so, if it's a deliberate tactic to make them lose their temper and lose the war. And I would prefer if you would answer as well, Lucius. Please summarize your thoughts for the benefit of your fellow Lords and Ladies."
The man nodded. "My instincts informed me that the creature was our magical better, and I thought it would not be wise to make myself his target when he quite literally spelled out how that would be done. To sit back and observe in neutrality was the safest option I could see. As for why I did not attempt to influence the vote myself…" the man seemed to pause, then looked sympathetically at some of his allies below. "I did not think I could have convinced any of you to vote differently without calling in favours, or losing your respect." He bowed his head slightly. "I am sorry that I did not warn you of my suspicions, my friends. I should have done that much, but I did not, and my folly has cost you. You have my apologies."
"The wisdom of politics, ladies and gentlemen," David Monroe said, arm outstretched at the man. "And now we shall need the wisdom of military. Chief Warlock Amelia Bones. Why did you make your votes known? Why did you vote in that creature's favour?"
"Not in his favour," the tough, grim witch shook her head. "A vote against making someone your enemy is not the same as voting in their favour." She glanced significantly at some of the plum-coloured robes on the ground. "To answer your question, professor, I did not think it wise to declare that creature our enemy. He easily bypassed our wards and our attempts to arrest him. According to the reports I received, he left Azkaban while under the eye and assault of our strongest Dark Wizard Hunter. Not to mention a full team of aurors. He escaped without apparent difficulty, worry, or effort. He hasn't maimed or even hurt anybody so far, and considering he was being tried for the crime of slaying the world's darkest creatures… after working with Dementors on a regular basis, I could not say with certainty that he meant us ill by destroying them, so I did not vote to that effect." She paused, possibly in consideration, or possibly because she was done.
"Excellent explanation," the Defense Professor spoke into the pause. "And I suspect you also have a bit of pragmatic wisdom to share as well."
The witch shrugged. "From a practical perspective, he said he's willing to undo some of the damage he did to our prison system, and I'm willing to accept the olive branch if it's true. My department needs it. I can only run overtime shifts for so long. We do require a permanent solution to the Azkaban problem, and we require it quickly. Dumbledore isn't here to modify another Nurmengard for us. Even if he was it's questionable if he could do it for so many prisoners in such a short time. Our own warders will need at least a month to build an adequate replacement to Azkaban."
"Thank you," said Monroe. "Those who voted against him, look to your ankles. You will find removeable bands around them. Those bands suppress the magic of the wearer, turning the strongest wizards into the weakest muggles until removed. They can be locked, though yours are not. Head Unspeakable," he addressed, who was wearing one at the moment, though he removed his own device more quickly than anyone else. "Please examine them once we are concluded here. Have them ready for distribution to Azkaban as quickly as possible, as soon as you deem they are safe, with no hidden spell effects. Another shipment will be coming shortly."
The man barely seemed to pay Monroe any heed, already engrossed with the object in his hand, wand out and scrying.
Into the lecture's lull, some of the Wizengamot members tried to argue about the creature's resisting arrest, about his assaulting them, about disrupting the esteemed and noble Wizengamot, and so on.
Monroe had shrugged. He said that Dark Lords, and strong foreign entities for that matter, don't listen to laws unless they have a reason to. He advised his peers to take that into account, especially when a foreign Dark Lord seems willing to concede on some issues. Give him a reason to listen, even if that reason has nothing to do with military might, and they might find that he will. He said he would repay the monetary debt, did he not?
"And finally," said Monroe, "we shall need the wisdom of virtue. Madam Longbottom, if you would?"
The woman wearing the tallest and gaudiest hat out of everyone present followed Lucius's example. "Neville, dear. Care to comment?"
Neville Longbottom – who had been returned to Hogwarts earlier that morning for the leave-taking feast now that the threat was ended – stood up straighter, but he could not project his voice as easily as Draco. A spell from Monroe was more than enough to compensate.
"Dementors are horrible," he said, nervous that everyone was looking at him, but now brave enough to speak anyway. "T-The darkest creatures ever." Many of the students who had tried to learn the Patronus charm in January nodded firmly. "Anything that destroys them is on our side. And if he used a Patronus charm to do it, then he's probably a better being than any wizard could hope to be."
"Or maybe he's the kind of being we should all aspire to be," said Hermione Granger, a great caw! of agreement coming from her shoulder, which startled many nearby students.
She looked at Harry Potter standing next to her, as if expecting him to say something, but the boy just smiled.
"Ten Points to Hufflepuff," said Professor Monroe. "And two to Ravenclaw." He turned back to the plum-coloured robes. "It is easy to forget the simplest things when you become a politician. It is easy to focus on the fact that our Dementors were our greatest military asset. It is easy to believe that a creature who destroys them is targeting us, seeking to make us weaker on the world stage. But to borrow Mr. Potter's words from April, Dementors would eat everyone if they could. The wandering adventurer Herold Shea vanquished the Mind Flayer species centuries ago, doing all of humanity a great service. Now the Dementors of the world, not just of Britain, have been ended in a similar way.
"We can choose to regard that as an act of aggression or an act of peace, but do not lose sight of the bigger picture. We are still the strongest magical nation, even without Dementors. We produce the strongest and most dangerous wizards, be they light or dark, and that shall continue to be the case if I continue to teach Defense. And remember that we were left a Dementor in the Ministry, one that could probably be destroyed as easily as all the others. We still have a greater Dementor population than any other individual country. We still have the same amount of Dementors as all other countries put together, for the Dementor in the ICW has also gone untouched. Will we, as a country, throw a temper tantrum against a powerful and possibly benevolent outside force? Will we ruin the potential for positive relations? Will we at the very least take their power into account when we make our decisions, as the Malfoys instinctively do? These are the questions we must ask ourselves."
The man let those questions hang in the air for a moment.
"I suggest," said Lord Malfoy, "we hold a referendum on the most recent vote. In two days, perhaps, after tensions have settled and our children have returned to us. Though we are not in the hall at the moment, may I see a show of hands for those in favour?"
All the plum-coloured robes on broomsticks had raised arm sleeves. Some of the plum-coloured robes on the ground had raised arm sleeves. If you looked closely, this included every single 'Imperius'ed Death Eater, counterintuitive as that may have been.
Since the last vote was almost tied, with many refrainers, that meant the majority ruled in favour.
But then Fred and George Weasley raised their hands, which prompted some other students to raise their hands, including the Boy-Who-Lived and the Girl-Who-Died, which prompted a few professors to raise their hands, including David Monroe, which prompted all the students to raise their hands, including students like Robert Jugson and Pansy Parkinson, which pressured the remaining Wizengamot members into a unanimous decision.
A referendum would be held two days hence.
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Good Quirrell is pretty terrifying, isn't he? Kind of amazing to see the contrast between his past and present. Completely uses his incredible manipulative skills to simultaneously completely enforce his separation from Excelsior and turn the entire Wizmengot's opinion on its head. It's really, really hard to change the opinion of a politician, and Quirrell just did it a dozen times over. Quirrell's redemption arc is obviously important, but I really love these "present day" chapters. The contrast between his relapse and his newfound force for good really makes you want to see the end of his journey. Can't wait to see where this story goes!
11414851
Thank you. As for changing the minds of politicians, he IS cheating, as always. Did you notice how?
Reminds me when Yosemite Sam was doing the politician, I love babies, let me hold him, and Bugs Bunny does the Im a baby, this man bit me cry.
11414873
No ... I did not. (will re-read later tonight for that)
this played out so good.
this is a lesson the hole world needs to have beaten in to them.
there is only one true power in the world and it is a power to be looked at vary vary closely.
Nope. Even on re-read, I don't see how he's cheating here.
11414873
Either the surprise tomatoes, or the Imperius was directed at them, and his orders were for them.
11415562
No, not the Imperius. Not compulsion tomatoes either. It'll probably give it away, but your hint is to look to Chapter 53.
11415790
Codeword is basilisk?
Honestly, that:
looked very suspicious, but I don't nearly have memory capacity to remember such fine details from months ago.
11416379
Yup. That's the problem with gaps in uploads. On the original upload schedule of one a week, it would only have been a month and a half gap, still a lot of time but a bit more reasonable. Then the unplanned hiatus happened, and here we are. It'll definitely be more solveable for future binge-readers.
Ah, usage of children with bright futures to administer shaming punishment to older holders of power who are foolish and prideful. I do hope Quirrell has some kind of a plan to mitigate the enmity he has caused between the two. He easily might have ruined many upstanding careers in one motion here. Worst part is that he seems to be taking firm hold of important decisions, so it is all the more likely that more petty people will go for petty and trivial hampering which is next to impossible to prove and prevent.
Also, could also be it is a price he is willing for them to pay for the lesson. What are few broken careers in the grand scheme of things.
Hogsmeade
Also,
is inconsistent with
should be
and
it doesn't seem like this non-standard capitalization is done on purpose.
Ancient Chinese curse
"May important people know your name."
Unexpected outcome ngl
Damn! I actually fell for it. Instead of a clean slate, the politicians got teached a few forgotten lessons and common sense.
Awesome to see how expectations change and got outright turned in the opposition of what one might guess to see.