Election
December 23rd, 1982:
“Good evening friends,” spoke the aging wizard who stood atop a makeshift podium in front of a dusty and scraped mahogany desk. “As I’m sure all of you know, today is the final day of our election-the appointment of the next Minister of Magic. I have called upon you today, not for duty, or the handling of responsibilities, but for company.
“In this darkened decade, We have all have gone beyond the means of this formally instituted fellowship. Treading through the most terrific of times, the most rageful of foes, together, we have held each other through the thickest of storms and the highest of waters. We’ve formed more than a companionship. Together we’ve formed a family. Closest, are our mids, and tight, the bond of our hearts, and chaste has been our call for vengeance for the friends and family lost along our journey.
“My brothers and sisters, our wizards and witches held in arms, I am aware you may have responsibilities elsewhere, but I ask for your company so that we may see an end to our great fight. A fight which has been reborn time after time through the gnashing of jaws and the tears of many eyes, through which it has been purified and rejuvenated through our heart’s beckon for righteousness. I believe our efforts shall finally show a greater triumph over a wicked cause within this window of very short and due time, a time which is to be finalized within these following hours.”
The room slowly erupted in a steady stream of applause. A large plate of drinks hovered by and the attendees began to ease into a more jubilant state of mind.
Sirius Orion Black found himself steering away from the talkative matriarch of the Longbottom family. In a room of many different varieties of tables and styles of furniture-cots, couches and benches, he’d find his friends in the most dusty and odd-colored of chairs. “I knew I was smelling something...Decide to let one out in front of the whole order, Wormtail” Sirius jokingly slapped on Peter Pettigrew’s back.
“Heh, Padfoot, still using that one?” Peter grumbled with his mouth overtaken by a glass. Sirius gave a hearty chuckle.
“So where’s Little Harry, Prongs? Finally got a maid?” Sirius asked James and Lily Potter. Their two-year old son had been their light in the darkness of the silent war against Riddle and his followers. Originally, the little child was the only reason why the married couple had been reluctant to join Dumbledore’s Order. That changed over the course of the next two years when the situation with Riddle began to radically escalate.
James Potter laughed,”I wish, It’s hard enough to get by as it is, right now.”
“Mcgonagall was gracious enough and offered to babysit him while we attended,” Lily added, embracing her husband.
Sirius nodded,”Where’s Remus?”
“He’s decided to do some more recon with the werewolves. Afterall, the full moon is just in a few days. You know how Moony gets.”
Sirius sat down with the three of them. “Ugh, and here I thought the whole friendbook was going to get back together.”
James offered a shrug.
“You know, gentlemen,This election seems to be something else entirely. I don’t ever remember it being like this when Minchum ran for office.”
“Right,” Pettigrew said, finishing a second glass of whatever golden-colored liquid he seemed to have a great taste for,”But to be fair, the stakes have never been higher.”
The table grew silent for some time, with only James and Lily talking quietly about things to buy next time they went to the market. “Wormtail, anythig new at work?”
Pettigrew stirred after a moment, putting down his glass on the table. “Nothing new, I’ve been busy too busy. You and James are lucky to be aurors, I mostly just rearrange stock in the back of this old pub near Hogsmeade. The pay’s not exactly well, but when I’m helping at the bar I meet a load of great folk there. You’d be surprised how many different travelers stop by...The stories they tell-brilliant adventures.”
“Reminds me of our youth,” Sirius said. “But I suppose we’re still young!”
Pettigrew glamed,”I guess in comparison to Dumledore. But ol’ James Potter is already a father. You thought about settling down, Sirius?”
Black shook his head,”You know I’d never do that. Life never stops for a Black.”
Peter drew his brow,”It did for your parents. Also your sister and…”
Black gave a nervous chuckle,”I get it, Wormtail, life passes by. Maybe in a few years if I find a good woman. You on the other hand...When will I be seeing a Mrs. Pettigrew?”
Peter gave a wide smile. “She’s coming along...There was a woman that asked me for a date at the tavern two days ago.”
Sirius’ eyes grew wide with shock,”No way. I’m practically the last man standing with Remus doing his lone wolf thing...This..this..I’m even being beaten by Wormtail. Did you hear that, James?”
James took a glance away from his wife,”Yeah, stop being so picky padfoot. Just pick a girl.”
Sirius shook his head,”No, no, no. I can’t just pick out a random woman who might just like me for who I happen to be. Besides, I have better priorities...”
The table shook their heads. Black, for the moment was hopeless. He then rose a finger for a glass,”I’ll have whatever Peter’s drinking.”
A elegant glass flew to him in a flash, filled with a golden-colored liquid. Black took a sip of the drink and purred. For a great moment of time there was nothing about the room but quiet murmurs and soft sounds of tapping and a hum of magic. Albus Dumbledore alongside Frank Longbottom and Filius Flitwick tampered with a wizarding machine akin to a muggle radio.
Finally Peter spoke up,”How long do we have left, you reckon?” The lad was already tipsy and seemingly anxious to just be done with the whole affair.
James conjured a clock that read a quarter to eight. Night had came swiftly. “They’ll announce the results maybe by ten? Who knows.”
“Yeah, they’ll probably give it another day or two. Since the both of you--”
There was a loud knock at the end of the room, at the entrance. Quick and rapid knocking. Dumbledore settled away from one of the components of the Wireless and drew his wand. He walked casually to the door.
The words were muttered exasperatedly, “I’m..here...Results..”
Dumbledore wordlessly moved his wand in a dozen and inconsistent patterns. Finally there was a click. The door was unlocked. The face of one tired Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted the Order members.
“They...finished counting the ballots, Sir.”
Flitwick piped up from behind a enlarged, polished wooden box,”Who won, lad?”
Young Shacklebolt shook his head,”They only have recieved the people’s ballet. No word of the Wizengamot’s ruling, yet. They had all of the departments leave except for some of the heads. The Unspeakables are being used to handle security now. They worry that some of us, aurors, are going to do something...I mean…” He looked concernerningly towards the leader of the Order.
Dumbledore simply remained neutral. “Don’t fret, Kingsley. I will let democracy take care of its own.”
“Wait a minute,” whispered Alice Longbottom from one of the benches nearby, she cradled her infant son carefully so as to not stir him awake. “What if he wins, Albus? We may need somebody to…”
Dumbledore waved her away. “Justice will come, Alice. We must all be patient. Our efforts will show, I can promise you this, tenfold.”
Flitwick Peered from the cover of one of the box’s walls and hopped out of it. Using his wand, he shrunk the box back down to its standard, hand-sized portion. “Wireless is done. Frank, how’s the tuning going?”
Frank mumbled something about the room’s muffling charms as he used his wand to carefully enlarge and shorten the wireless’ antennaes. Once they were a reasonable size, Frank wiped the sweat off of his brow. “Who wants to do the honors?”
Sirius raised Peter’s hand. Peter shook his head,”You do it Black, I’m too…” he belched. Sirius tipped his head and drew from his seat. He walked to the wireless and began to turn the knob that configured the machine’s reciever. After some time of dead air, they finally grasped hold of a signal.
“....Well Lauranee I’d bet one-hundred galleons on Bagnold’s victory today.”
“No, no, no, Jacobin. Bagnold is just another member of old-bloods. Wizards and Witches of today prefer Mr. Riddle, he’s fresh and new...”
“But anybody has a chance if we’re using those requisites, Lauranee. Mrs.Bagnold may not be the freshest ‘gryff, but at least she’s experienced. She’s a former head of that muggle department….you know the one…”
“Heh, I doubt I do. She may be experienced but she most certainly is not a leader. Have you seen Mr.Riddle’s rallies?”
“No. I have not. Tell us about them.”
“Oh they’re obsolutely riveting. Thousands, hundreds of thousands-dare I say millions, of our magical people come to the rallies. The last one was held at the plaza of Diagon Alley.”
“Where a great number of voters are, I presume…”
“Oh, yes. There were great numbers of people looking from their shops, the plaza had quickly became crowded…”
“I’ve heard plentiful rumours of Mr.Riddle. As someone who attended one of his rallies, tell me and the listeners-Is it true that Mr. Riddle is only supported by pureblooded folk? This seems to be a recurring rumour. Is it true?”
“No. Not at all. Mr.Riddle, if he were to be elected today..would not only be the youngest minister of magic elected within the last century, but also one of the dozen or so half-bloods to take up the office. You asked me about his supporters...his supporters range from all sorts of peoples, creeds and statuses. Serves us all well, this last decade has been a very difficult one.”
“Sure, this decade has been pretty rough on all of us. A close call with muggle intervention in ‘74..”
“Such a scandal.”
“...The rise in anti-muggleism…”
“Hmmmm….”
“...The Goblin Nation’s lobbying is causing a bit of damage. Not to throw shade on our closest allies…”
“Right.”
“But are you sure that Mr.Riddle is the answer?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely yes, and you can take this to Gringotts because I am just so moved. Bagnold offers nothing new to the table. She’s just another galleon-grubbling crony like Minchum’s awful administration. All tough talk, no bite. Least of all she’s got no voice.”
“Voice, Laurenee? I don’t remember hearing that Bagnold was a mute.”
“Oh, she practically is. I tried to listen to her one time at one of her own demonstrations, Merlin. That woman couldn’t keep one member of her own followers awake.”
“And Mr. Riddle’s anywhere better?”
“Yes, he is, Jacobins. He’s moving, inspiring. The way he works the crowd, you’d believe we’d be muggles. His speeches are magic on themselves. He moves--Gracefully, poised so perfectly yet vigorously. He speaks true, deep from within his heart...I can confidentally say that Mr.Riddle’s heart is filled with absolute love and cherishment for his nation. And a devoutness to assure her interests are secured.”
Jacobins, the station host, laughed. “You speak of Mr. Riddle as if he’s the second coming of Merlin…”
“It almost as if...You know…Mr. Riddle is rumoured to be an especially good duelist.”
“Those are just rumours. Mr.Riddle is about one of the most peaceful wizards in the world. Never have I heard about him having to use force.”
“He never needs to, Jacobins. He is an astonishing diplomat. He can just ask for anything and then shabang,” Laurenee giggled. “He’s a charismatic, young...Politician. And you know how we have so little number of those here. He’d be able to work wonders for our nation.”
“Eh. However, every person to run for minister has said they would do wonders, too. Mr. Riddle couldn’t be that different from Minchum or his competitor.”
“Like I said before, Jacobins. Unlike the others, he has the supporters needed for change. The supporters needed for prosperity within this nation--”
All of a sudden the station turned silent. The members of the order looked at their wireless to see that the knob began to turn on its own. Click, click, click...Some members of Dumbledore’s Order began to grow cautious.
“Not to worry, everyone,” Dumbledore called,”This is the cause of the ministry. It is time.”
The silence grew in the room. Not even the floating bottle of white wine shook from its position midair in the middle of the room. Not one person dared to make a sound. The voters in the matured a feeling of anticipation and nervousenes.
All over Magical Britain, the people held their breath. Many more merrily doing so, then others. Nobody noticed as the minutes passed, and not one dared to recollect the time. Everyone awaited the news. And it arrived, calmly. A smooth, feminine voice filled with lax elegance called the listeners through the wireless. “Attention, Ladies and Gentlemen. Witches and Wizards, Attention. As of this moment, 9:54, The 1982 election for the appointed office of Minister of Magical Britain has been called. The votes are as follows: The Public vote goes unanimously to Thomas M. Riddle. The Wizengamot calls: fifty-four votes to Thomas M. Riddle. Two votes for Millicent Bagnold. Hereby, the election of 1982 has been called for. Thomas M. Riddle is the newly appointed Minister of Magical Britain. May his term be prosperous for us all.”
The Wireless’ tuning knob returned to their previous signal. Their former station never returned to ear, however.
There was nothing but silence in the room containing the Order. Soon, some members began to grow in hysterics. Others began to grit their teeth and grip their palms. Some such as Alice Longbottom, openly weeped.
All eyes crossed to their leader. Dumbledore returned to the desk in the front of the room. He showed no rage or sadness as he did so. To some he appeared numb to it all. He was completely neutral to the new environment they found themselves in. To Dumbledore, the plan had merely changed. The future had been selected. He never had a say of the consequent matter, nor would he have dared to charge the matter. It had been done. With as much willpower, and as much conformity, Dumbledore finished what needed to be done, not only for the future’s sake, but for the current nature of all the individuals involved.
“My friends...I can only offer you these words and I ask of all of you upon my own magic and soul. The time has come where there is to be much struggle and strife. There is to be a great number of wailing and a great time of ignorance to be passed. I ask upon you, my brethren, my disciples, peers and colleagues. Arm yourself with one-another’s embrace, and blaze upon ye heads the phrase of hope. Stradle the creature of justice, peacefully.
“I decree as of this moment, The Order of the Phoenix to be disbanded. Upon my magic, any oaths taken upon by ye for this Order shall henceforth be unheld upon. I sense that the worse of times will be coming for us. There shall be great struggle for us to endure. Not at his hour, however.
“By everything good and heavenly, may we all make peace at the resolution of this all,” Dumbledore brought his arms together and held his wand to his temple, he vanished in a swirl of yellow and orange flames that, too, quickly vanished.
For the many, many, many years to come, not one member of Dumbledore’s order would see their former leader in person ever again. And for many in the room, for many years, they would only be able to recall the anger and disappointment they felt towards him.