20

Chapter XX: The Hall of Prophecies

(Harry P.O.V)

When it came to the matter of his sister's safety, there was only one aspect of importance, speed. If word of the attack on the Burrow got out, as well as the fact that Bellatrix had been being held captive by the Order and escaped, entry into the Ministry for Harry, he believed would be far more difficult than the after-hours, Christmas Day operation he was currently running.

Moody had been integral to his plan, as the famed auror, known to be without many friends returning to the Ministry raised little eyebrows, and with Harry under a disillusionment charm, they were moving fast. He hated leaving the burrow alone, especially with Sirius and Astoria being injured, but him being around them would do little to help. He was certain that the Order was angry, but the fury they felt, held not even a candle to the inferno of rage burning in Harry's chest, a rage only Moody could understand.

As he wandered the empty halls of the empty ministry he truly began to notice the immense scale of the buildings, with roofs high enough to fit entire New York City Sky-Scrappers beneath its shelter. Floos lined the halls, allowing for quick transportation from all over the wizarding world, and elevators which created a fantastic line of movement from department to department sat unused and closed. The sound of Moody's wooden leg clicked against the Black-Tiled Floor and in the center of the atrium a group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard.

"We paint such fantasies in our minds," Moody growled, "To believe that Centaurs and Goblins adore us is nothing more than a lie we tell ourselves to sleep better at night. You've been to Gringotts, did those goblins look about ready to worship you?" Harry shook his head, remembering the rather grouchy goblin he faced during his first trip to Gringotts, "Come along boy, we can't afford to lollygag for too long, lest Dumbledore sobers up and finds disagreement with our plan."

"I don't care anymore," Harry muttered beneath his breath, "Retrieving Tonks is the only thing that matters right now." Moody nodded the two racing around the halls. Clearly, the majority of employees would have been lost without functioning elevators to guide them around the Ministry, but Moody would eat shit before entrusting his safety to magically moving machinery and had seemed to have the entire Ministry mapped out in his head.

It wasn't long until the two had arrived at Level 9 of the Ministry, the Department of Mysteries, a cold chill blowing from behind a door gilded in pure-silver, a comical check-in desk residing right beside it. Venom coursed through Harry's hand as he lifted it towards the door, being stopped only by Moody clutching his hand tightly, "We're already trespassing on Ministry Property, Let's try not to blow anything up." Harry sighed as Moody approached the door placing his wand on a thin slit that looked somewhat like a mail slot, a light blue glow emanating from the door as it softly creaked open, "Typical Unspeakable Pride," Moody said, shaking his head, "I had my department of mysteries clearance removed twenty years ago and they still haven't changed to locks. Top-level security we're dealing with here."

"If any Unspeakables get in our way, I'll make them regret it," Harry whispered, pushing forward through the door, "I still have a bone to pick with them from third year. If they get in the way of me getting my sister back, there will be hell to pay."

"I'm not planning on stopping you," Moody said with a shrug, the two entering the dark chamber. The room that Harry had entered would have left him speechless in any other mood; It was filled with beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling light. Clocks ticked on every surface and a large and small, grandfather and carriage, hung in the spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. "This is the department of-"

"Not interested," Harry muttered out, "Where's the Hall of Prophecies?"

Harry watched as Moody glanced up at the clock, "One in the morning, huh?" Moody whispered, "If they haven't changed the door rotation, it should be the one on the left."

Harry hadn't even bothered to wait for his mentor as he marched towards the door, swinging it open to be met with nothing but vast, cold chamber its ceilings as high as a cathedral, and in the distance stood rows and rows of towering shelves, each of them holding hundreds of small, dusty, glass orbs, with nothing more than a yellow and dusty label affixed below them. Harry sighed, reaching his hand out, grabbing a blue-flame torch as with his eyes narrowed he pressed forward. "Wait a minute, boy," Moody hissed out behind him, "You don't know the layout, you'll get lost if you go by yourself."

Harry stood still, waiting as the auror hobbled to his side, his eyes scanning furiously as Moody now led the way. Turn after turn, Harry was rapidly losing track of where anything was, the maze of the Prophecy Hall matching that of the Triwizard Tournaments. Cedric, The memory of the maze brought a rather unfortunate memory to his mind, a memory that was only replaced by the laughter of Tonks. I will save you, Harry whispered, No matter what. Harry grunted, his face slamming into Moody's moldy coat, "What the hell was that-," Though as Harry looked up he felt his heart stop in his chest, in the golden label that rested below the orb right before him, names he recognized popped out at him.

Prophecy of Harry Potter, and Tom Riddle. "So this is it," Harry murmured, "This is what started everything, the thing that Voldemort so badly wants." Harry's breath hitched as he reached forward wrapping his hand around the orb, a hazy voice hissing out:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

"We've got what we need boy," Moody growled, "Let's leave. This place, it's always given me the creeps."

Harry nodded, gripping the crystal ball tightly in his hand, the rage in his body pulsing like lightning through his fingertips. "Just hang tight, Tonks," Harry said his voice low and cold, "I'll get you back, I swear it." Harry followed after the hobbling auror, the two entering another set of doors, this one leading back into the room of time before entering the normal ministry.

"Come on, boy, let's move it."

"The way I am now," Harry whispered, "It wouldn't be healthy for me to go back. I feel like if I head back to the Burrow, or Grimmauld Place I'm going to explode." Harry grit his teeth, "I'm just- I'm so pathetically angry, I-,"

"Potter," Moody said turning to face him, his eye gleaming into his soul, "Nymphadora Tonks was one of the best students I've ever had. I don't care if it takes weeks or months, she won't crack. I don't train weaklings." Harry stared blankly at Moody before a grim smile cracked upon the Auror's face, "Come along, we'll stay at my place tonight, give you some time to cool your head before returning to your friends and family. They'll probably be pissed about it tomorrow, but I know what it feels like to need your space."

"Command can be a lonely place," Moody muttered, "Sometimes we all just need a break."

"Yeah," Harry said his voice soft and tired, the weight of his magic usage now fully felt as his adrenaline, "I think I'd like that."

(Daphne P.O.V)

I'm okay, I need some space, don't come looking for me, the poorly scribbled note from Harry on terribly aged parchment filled her with both intense relief and fury as she paced the halls of St. Mungos, the sun just creeping through the windows from the new day. Astoria, the Order, and now Harry, Daphne grunted, Where the hell is my support- Daphne was stopped in her thoughts as her mentor pulled open the door of her sister's room, sweat beating from her brow, but a comforting smile on her face, "You're sister is going to be fine, we've replenished her lost blood and it's going to take a couple of hours until she comes to, but when she does she'll be just fine.

"Sirius' injuries could take a bit longer to heal, but I suspect that Lord Black will be moving around in no time," Daphne smiled softly as her mentor approached, placing a comforting hand against her shoulder, "You've gone through quite a lot for someone your age, haven't you?"

"I'm fine," Daphne said in a whisper, "I can handle it."

"Those are two different things," Abigail said softly, guiding Daphne to a nearby bench, the two witches sitting beside each other, "I have no doubt you can handle it, but that doesn't make you fine."

"Really, this is nothing, I can-"

"Let it out," The witch beside her said, "Being attacked over and over again, having to fight battle after battle, sitting out here all alone after everything you've been through, all your concerns with your sister. I'm telling you to let it out." Daphne felt her breathing become sporadic as she fought the tears of stress that were building quickly in her eyes, "I'm not some random stranger, I'm a doctor, I know what stress can do. Cry, Daphne, that's an order."

An exhausted wail erupted from Daphne's throat, every moment since that raven-haired boy had entered her life had been littered with both loving memories and stress. It wasn't that the good times didn't make the bad times worth it, of course they did, but it didn't make the bad times any sweeter. She wanted Harry, she wanted a normal life with Harry, with a sister that wasn't dying, with a war that wasn't looming over their heads. Comforting circles were drawn across her back as Daphne hiccuped regaining a miniature wave of control as Abigail smiled, "See, feels better doesn't it."

Daphne nodded softly as her mentor patted her back gently, "Go home and get some sleep, it's already six in the morning, the only person still here is Sirius' wife and kid, everyone else called it a night five hours ago. Nobody is going to be dying tonight, Daphne, get some rest. I will run some tests in Astoria for my research when she wakes and then I'll let your elf know she's ready."

"I can stay I-,"

"Go. Home." Abigail said strictly before with a gentle nod she called out for Dobby, her elf bouncing playfully before her.

"Take me back home," Daphne whispered

"Right away Miss Greeny, The Great Harry Potter just got back a few minutes ago, maybe Harry Potter will make Greeny less sad."

"Yeah," Daphne whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes, "Maybe."

Daphne vanished from the Hospital with a pop, her eyes quickly adjusting to her new surroundings. Part of her chuckled at the fact that Dobby understood Grimmauld Place to be her home, but being in the House of Black without Harry felt strange. Shadows of the rising sun flickered along the wooden walls, and a hushed silence overtook the house, the only thing heard was the flickering of flames and a gentle smell of rising smoke that rose from the living room. Is somebody awake?

The early morning birds chirped in the distance as with quiet footsteps, she turned the corner of the kitchen into the sitting room, a shadow now visible against the wall. She swallowed, pressing forward, only to find that the missing crow had returned to the nest. His Raven-Black Hair spiked in all directions, his limp stature leaned against the legs of the couch, his hand extended outward, a circular object in his hand, "Harry?"

Like the crack of a whip, Harry turned to face him, rage burned in her chest, but it lasted only a moment as the slight hue of red filled her boyfriend's eyes. He was crying, Daphne thought to himself, Harry never cries. She watched as Harry looked up at her, his boyfriend wiping his eyes turning his head away, "Sorry," He whispered, "For abandoning you like that, I just felt-"

"It's okay," Daphne said moving to his side, sliding beside him, "Everyone is alright, the doctors say everyone is going to make a full recovery, even Astoria."

"That's good, I'm glad everyone is safe," Harry sighed looking back towards the fire, "Well, almost everyone."

"Tonks is strong, she's not going to let the Death Eaters break her," Daphne said firmly, taking Harry's hand, "She's your sister, after all, both of you are too stubborn to ever give up." A soft smile grew on Harry's face for a fleeting moment, "I'm guessing you were out with Moody, right? Did you- Did you get the prophecy."

Harry nodded, showing the glowing ball to her, "I have it, but, I don't know what to do now." His voice sounded unconfident, worse than Daphne had ever heard before, "Honestly, I don't even know where to start anymore. I-"

"Harry," Daphne whispered softly.

"I knew better than to give Sirius two days, I should have just broken Bellatrix's mind," Harry said gripping the crystal ball tightly, "Had I done that, I wouldn't have needed to stay and fight to protect her in the first place. Bill, Sirius, and Astoria wouldn't have needed to get hurt, and the Weasely's home wouldn't have been destroyed. If we could have just retreated, Tonks would still be-," Daphne gazed on at the boy, "The fight wasn't worth it, I should have commanded everyone to run, I just, I saw Barty, and I remembered the Graveyard, I remembered seeing Neville's parents, I just got so angry and-"

"Stop that," Daphne hissed grabbing Harry's shoulders tightly, "You did what you could with the cards you were dealt. Of course, there were better ways of handling the situation had we been in charge from the beginning, but we're not always here. The way you organized the battle strategy on the fly was masterful, your plan is the reason nobody died." The way Harry's eyes locked upon her made Daphne's heart melt as she whispered, "You're a leader Harry, it's in every fiber of your being, the post is never easy, but I would follow you anywhere. I know that Michael, Astoria, Neville, Claire, every single one of us, we all feel the same way."

"I won't be there for you guys to follow next year," Harry said looking away, "This war is progressing faster than I could have ever imagined. I can't afford to waste any more time wandering about Hogwarts. Next year, I'm not going back."

"There's nothing for me there if you aren't going," Daphne whispered, "If you're not going then neither am-"

"Use your head, Daphne," Harry hissed, silencing her, "Your dream is to save your sister, to become this great medical witch, you can't do that if you drop out of school to follow me. Following me, it's just going to be more trouble than it's worth."

"Apparently your hearing isn't working so well," Daphne said, her voice growing more stern as she turned to face Harry, "I said I'd follow you anywhere, and if that means into the heat of battle then so be it. Emmeline follows Sirius into battles, Andromeda follows Ted, Molly follows Arthur, and your Mom followed your dad into every battle, didn't she. We fight together, we handle our problems together, and should we win or die, we'll do that together too. Being in a relationship, it's not just about all the fun times. Yes, I know that you will panic about my safety when the fighting starts, but I will feel less guilty being dead knowing I fought by your side, rather than if I was just sitting behind the safety of castle walls. Like it or not, that's the hurdle our relationship has to overcome, we average our misery, in the hopes that we will get through this dark time and get to spend the rest of our time on this earth together. Do you hear me, Harry?"

"You know," Harry said looking up at the roof with a smirk, "You call me stubborn all the time, I don't think you realize just how much worse you are than me." Daphne chuckled as Harry turned one last time to face her, "Alright then, Princess. Since you seem dead set on staying on the sinking ship until it's too late, let's make sure it doesn't come to that." Daphne watched as Harry dropped the swirling sphere on the ground between then, "I got the Prophecy, how do we move on to step two of your master plan?"

"We get a death eater to deliver our message," Daphne whispered, "I was thinking about a certain Black Bat whose loyalty Voldemort never seems to question."

"You want us to tell Snape to deliver the message," Harry whispered, "But that involves waiting until the term starts again. What will happen to Tonks in that time?"

"All plans have downsides, but Tonks has information the Dark Lord wants," Daphne whispered, "At the very least, she would prove effective bait for you. She'll be in hell, but it's unlikely she'll be killed. I wish I could give you better news but-"

"No, I understand," Harry said through gritted teeth, "I just don't like it." Harry's eyes sunk as he looked down at the floor, "Tonks, just stay alive, please."

(? P.O.V)

"They would be foolish to mount a counter-attack, My Lord," Lucius said with a deep bow, "Potter himself knows he is no match for you, is this truly a necessity?"

"It was on oversight I should have addressed sooner," Voldemort sneered, "We won't know for sure how much Bellatrix told them until either the girl talks of Bella wakes. The operation cannot be disturbed, so I suggest you do as you're told, Lucius, lest you end up like her."

Voldemort watched his servant's eyes fall the drooling mess that lay discarded on the ground waiting for death, the woman in pink's brain turned to nothing but mush from the pain, her tongue slobbering from her mouth as she shook, rocking and twitching in insanity, "Why master? Why master? Why master?" Was all the woman muttered, they had been the only words uttered by the woman beneath his torturous curse.

"Find Barty, he will be the caster, but I will be the one to be the secret keeper, the wards may keep people away," Voldemort hissed, "But the charm will cloak us entirely."

"Yes, my lord, it will be done," Lucius said, his eyes widening in fright as Voldemort lifted his wand, "My Lord?"

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort grunted out, the twitching woman to Lucius' side suddenly ceasing all movement, "Find a ditch to dump her in, the more questions to muddle the field the better. The longer Fudge remains in office, the better our position is. Just get this woman out of my sight, she makes me sick. I have another visitor to attend to."

"Yes, My Lord," Lucius said, bowing further before him, before Voldemort rose, turning his back, his glowing red eyes focused on the stairs which descended into the basement. Each step he took towards the locked cellar had made his twisted grin grow wider, as even through the silenced-enchanted doors, screams of agony could still be heard.

As his foot touched the cool ground, his servant dropped to his knees, "Jonathan, any updates on our hostage."

"She's lasted two days now," Jonathan said, his voice trembling, "But she hasn't said a word." Voldemort eyes flicked towards the door before his servant spoke once more, "Master, my daughter, I assume she was present at the raid, I-"

"She lives," Voldemort whispered, "She will continue to so long as you continue to prove useful to me." Voldemort smiled grimly, "I am a man of my word, once the wizarding world bends to my will, I will ease your burden Jonathan, have faith in me."

"Of course, My Lord," The man said before a flick of his hand opened the door before him. The face of his servant fading from view as a new figure caught his eye. The girl was young, her hair now a mousy brown rather than the wild colors it had been reported to be. Her right eye was blackened, and blood spew from her busted lip and nose, her entire body shaking from the effects of cruciatus curse as chains dangled her helplessly from the ceiling.

"I wondered when the boss man himself would come to see me," The woman said with a chuckle, before blood erupted from her mouth falling to the ground, "I was getting bored of seeing your worthless goons."

"That, I am afraid we agree on," Voldemort hissed, "I had your last two interrogators killed for failing to bring me results, so, unfortunately, the old adage holds true, if you want something done right, you must do it yourself." The girl despite her mask of courage trembled slightly at the feeling of his fingers upon his battered skin, "But you, a metamorphmagus, you have used to me. All you must do is tell me what exactly the Order knows, tell me what their plans are, and you can live."

"If I did that," The woman hissed, "I wouldn't want to live."

"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed as screams erupted from the lungs of the young girl for only a short moment before canceling the spell. "Nymphadora," Voldemort started only to be cut off by the young woman's snarl.

"Don't call me, Nymphadora."

"Very well then, Prisoner," Voldemort said wrapping his hand around her throat, his jagged nails digging into her skin, "While this may be hard to understand, I am not an unreasonable man. You are young, with quite the life to live, do you truly wish to throw it away, for nothing more than a pack of old men and a little boy."

"That little boy," The woman spat, "Is my little brother, and one day, he's going to kill you." Voldemort growled with anger as the woman continued, "Let me save you the trouble of asking me dumb questions and get straight to the point. No matter what harm or torture you thrust upon me," The woman started a fiery glare in her eyes, "I'll never sell out my comrades, I'll never sell out Harry. So save us both some time, and kill me."

A heavy layer of silence filled the air, before the twisted grin that had emerged upon his face grew larger, his scaly hand gripping the young girl's chin, "Perhaps soon, but not yet, as I stated, Prisoner," Voldemort hissed, "You still have use to me, I have great plans for you in the future. Though perhaps you'll change your tone sooner than you expect, isn't that right, McNair?" Voldemort's glowing eyes fell upon the woman's current interrogator, "I want answers, McNair, and I want them now. Get her to talk, or you'll be joining the list of failures, and I ensure you, their punishments will be grueling."

"Yes, Master," McNair said with a nod.

"You are a strong one, Nymphadora Tonks," Voldemort said, his voice sweet as vinegar, "It'll be a pleasure breaking you."

(Astoria P.O.V)

Death was becoming an increasingly familiar thing in Astoria's life and today, like many other days had been no different. Her arms were sore, not just from the battle that had taken place, but the number of blood draws she'd been forced to endure under Daphne's instruction as well. Daphne, It was one of the many things that weighed heavy on her mind, for as much as a burden her illness had been, her sister had never thought about it like that, but as she looked at the exhausted expression on Daphne's face, she desperately wanted to be able to relieve some of the pressure.

It was in times like this that she would often turn to Harry for some sort of comfort or advice, but Harry hadn't been looking much better these days, with him feeling like a completely new person upon her return to Grimmauld Place. Harry didn't laugh anymore, and he hardly ever smiled, with only she, Daphne, and Michael even managed to get the smallest grin on his face. The boy had been on radio silence with his Godfather as well, something that made both Harry and Sirius look terrible.

It wasn't that they were upset with one another, Astoria had managed to ingrain the look of somebody upset into her memory, rather they both looked guilty, to the point that they could hardly face each other. The Tonks' had been a mess as well, in the full day that Astoria was back, she'd only seen Andromeda eat once, and her sandwich was returned to the kitchen by Dobby only half-eaten, though according to Dobby, it had been the most the Middle-Black Sister had eaten since her daughter's kidnapping.

Ted, on the other hand, was still missing, scouring different cross-sections of wizarding England where bodies were most frequently dumped, unsure of whether to pray for finding their daughter's body or not, neither parent knowing which fate was worse. It was trough Ted's neurosis, however, that they'd come across a rather difficult discovery, the body of Delores Umbridge resting in a poorly crafted ditch, an area that had once been a famous dumping grounds for Death Eater victims who had gone missing during the First War with Voldemort.

The Aurors had taken custody of the woman's body and left with no other choice, Amelia Bones, though currently still confined to a wheelchair, had been reinstated as the Head of the DMLE, and upon getting the news, Harry had made it clear there was no better time to move. A message had been sent to Dumbledore who through Floo Network had called an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot under the pretense of Umbridge's death, but the look in Harry's eye made it clear there was far more to this day than any of the Wizengamot members had imagined.

The rowed layers that seemed to hover upon the well in which the trials were held made Astoria feel like less than an ant, the magnified eyes looking down upon the group as they sat in the audience chairs, waiting for the chaos to begin. It hadn't taken long for it to ensue as the clicking of Dumbledore's heeled boots as he walked towards the podium quickly earned Fudge's ire. "What is the meaning of this Albus?" Fudge hissed, "It's the Christmas Holidays for Merlin's Sake."

"I figured that your merriment would have been short given the circumstances, surely you informed of the reason for this meeting?" Dumbledore said coyly, the clearly unorganized Minister's face was filled with confusion. Umbridge really ran this man's entire life, Astoria thought to himself, I doubt he could even pick out a tie on his own. "I made the message rather clear for those who read the summons, Senior Undersecretary, and Temporary Head of the DMLE, Delores Jane Umbridge is dead."

Astoria wasn't exactly expecting a miserable wailing to emerge from the crowd at the notions of her death, but the tempered response had really made Astoria realize just how despised the woman truly was.

"Delores is- dead?" Fudge stammered struggling for words.

"There could have been a lot more casualties thanks to her too," Sirius said, rising from his seat amongst the sea of chairs, "On Christmas Day, the Burrow was attacked by Death Eaters and burned to the ground. An urgent message sent to the Auror Department for help but under Delores' reign, none arrived. The Weasley's are not only Pure-Blooded wizards, but they are wizards who have given their all to a ministry who failed to protect them when they were needed most. All of this was thanks to the appointment by Fudge of a Witch who was not suitable to take up the Great Amelia Bones' position. The destruction of the Weasley's ancestral home, and the injuries to the members of their family, lie solely at the feet of the incompetent buffoon who supported Delores' motion to become head of the DMLE."

"I myself set the wards on the Weasley's home the day after tragedy first befell their family," Dumbledore started, "Even for the most experienced of Death Eaters, breaking my wards would have taken a substantial amount of time, something I assure you all did not happen. The reason behind this is, as Percy Weasley will testify, he informed Delores Umbridge of safety concerns regarding the Weasley's home, including the wards in place at the home; he is after all quite bright. He was led to believe that Aurors would arrive at the house to check up on the security, and instead was met with nothing but his home aflame. It is my suspicion that Delores Umbridge not only failed in her duty as the DMLE Head, but informed the Dark Lord and helped in the destruction of the Weasley's home."

"It is for that reason I am pushing for a vote of no confidence regarding Fudge's position as Minister of Magic," Sirius said, earning a gasp from many in the room. "What I am asking for is tough, and I am willing to give Fudge the time it takes for him to prepare a defense that may prove me wrong, but as someone with a young son, I do not feel comfortable with the safety that his leadership brings. If your home was attacked, and the Aurors never came because of Fudge's decisions, how would you fare? Would your family survive? Is that a risk you would be willing to take? The Weasleys were lucky Harry Potter was there to fend off the Dark Lord's forces, but he can't be everywhere, and I am asking you, do you trust Fudge as much as you do Harry?"

The crowd grew silent as Astoria turned to face Harry, her brother rising from his seat. "I know that technically, I am not allowed to interrupt, but as my name has been mentioned I feel it pertinent for me to speak." Astoria felt her eyes tremble at the expression that donned her brother's once cheer-filled face. "I've been fighting the war against Voldemort all my life," The crowd shuttered at the name, but Harry continued, "And when I brought him back at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, the war began for all of you. The Death Eaters won't discriminate, the Weasleys are proof of that. Even if your Blood is Pure, so long as you refuse to bow before Voldemort, he will try to kill you."

"So I'm asking you," Harry said, "I am putting myself out on the line, willing to die to take down Voldemort if necessary, but what are all of you doing? What are all of you willing to sacrifice for this country we all love so much? Fudge's administration has left many of you with comfy jobs and high payouts, and if Voldemort were to win, and you were to submit, I assure you that most likely you'd get to keep those luxuries. But you wouldn't be free, and the Dark Lord isn't someone to accept your money for mercy. Make one mistake and losing your job would be the last thing to worry about. You could be tortured, your wives could be raped, your children could be murdered! These are the realities of war! So I ask you, is Fudge the man you trust to lead you through it?"

Astoria watched as even before Emmeline could raise her hand Tiberius Ogden raised his, "I second the motion. If what I have heard is true, I refuse to leave the safety of my family in someone as incompetent as you."

"The boy has a way with words, I'll give him that," Griselda Marchbanks muttered, "We'll await the trial, but I must say, you've run a mockery of this war for far too long, and you should be ashamed of yourself that a fifteen-year-old boy has more balls to do what must be done before you. We may not currently have the votes to give you the boot, but we have enough to form an inquiry that may change some minds"

Hand after hand rose, with only those Astoria, knew to be death eaters amongst the crowd abstaining from the motion. "So it is set," Dumbledore whispered, "As customary, we will give you the time mandated to set up a defense against your accusations, six months should do. However, for the time being, I motion for Amelia Bones to be assigned to overseeing Fudge as he awaits for his inquiry."

"All in favor," Sirius called out lifting his hands, this one earning more hands than their previous motion, "It seems the majority has it, Albus."

"Indeed it does," Albus said with a grin turning to face the students on the bench, "Indeed it does."