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Power Plays Chapter 44
🕑 Added 2024-10-08 15:59:01 +0000 UTCAN: Thank you all for reading this story! We're getting quite close to the end of Part 2 of Power Plays. There's a few more months to go, and then we'll be set to move onto the final part of this story.
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Daphne’s hands were trembling as Harry guided her back to Astoria’s room. Thankfully, Narcissa had managed to help keep everyone calm and unassuming when he’d gone to collect Daphne from the waiting area. She’d given him a questioning look, but Harry had given a subtle shake of his head to tell her to leave it alone. He needed more time, and he hoped that she’d get the message he was trying to convey. Thankfully, it seemed she did, as she quickly began distracting the young children.
Harry couldn’t help but spare a glance for Delphini. The poor, innocent girl had been born to two of the evilest people in all of Britain. She was so sweet and had grown out of her shell wonderfully under Narcissa’s care.
A shiver ran down his spine as he feared what would happen if her true parentage was discovered not only by Emile and Cyrus but the wider public as well. Dark witches and wizards would come out of the woodwork and either rally behind her or try to see her sacrificed in a blood ritual to resurrect her father. And, unfortunately, Harry feared the reaction of light witches and wizards too. Magical folk could be a superstitious bunch, and everyone knew the powers and magical abilities that could run in a bloodline. Would they fear what Delphini would become once she grew up? And would that fear ostracise Delphini from her peers and lead her down a dark path?
It was terrifying to think about the endless possibilities that could befall this young girl, and that was why change needed to affect Britain sooner rather than later. Harry needed to remove the old prejudices and bring about a world of kindness and respect, even if he had to do so through force and political machinations.
“Did you just leave him there with my sister alone?” Daphne hissed, whispering to Harry.
“I took his wand and tied him up,” Harry assured her. “He’s not getting out. I wouldn’t leave your sister in any danger. Trust me.”
Daphne let out a shuddering breath. “I do… I do. I just fear what father might do more.”
Harry would have too had he not seen the genuine, ultimate love Cyrus had for his daughters firsthand. He wouldn’t do a single thing to hurt either Daphne or Astoria. If he tried to break free from his bonds to escape, then the portkey Harry placed on him would activate, taking him straight to a Ministry holding cell.
Astoria’s room remained exactly as it had mere moments ago when Harry left it. He’d tied up Cyrus in the chair next to Astoria’s bed so that the man could at least remain close to Astoria. His eyes flickered over to Harry and Daphne the moment that they entered, and Harry could see the shame in his eyes for all that he’d done.
Suddenly, Daphne’s nervous demeanour flipped on its head as she walked right up to her father and smacked him across the face. He couldn’t do anything to stop the stinging blow, not that he even tried to. He accepted the smack, and then the next one, and then the punch to his gut.
“You absolute monster!” Daphne shouted the second that Harry closed the door behind him and applied his privacy wards.
“Daphne, dear—”
“Don’t call me that,” Daphne spat, drawing her wand and placing the tip of it underneath his chin. “I should kill you right now.”
Harry made no move to stop her. She’d made it clear that she wanted her father dead for months now. Every time he talked to her about it, her resolve remained intact. But a question still remained.
“I can do it for you, if you need,” Harry offered to Daphne gently.
If Cyrus looked shocked at Harry’s words, he didn’t show it. He just looked tired and defeated. If death was to be the result of everything that he’d done, then he was resigned to it.
Daphne never looked away from Cyrus for even a second as she contemplated matters. Killing Cyrus would end her fears about what he might do out in the wider world. The fear of what he might do to her family. It might end the nightmares that Astoria had, knowing that her father was out there. If Draco were in here, Harry was certain that he’d kill Cyrus too. He cared for Astoria too much to see her continually hurt by him.
But now that she was faced with the prospect right in front of her, Harry could see Daphne hesitating. She was always so good about masking her emotions and fears, but day by day, he was slowly beginning to understand the subtle nuances of her behaviour. She clearly felt torn about putting down a beaten dog.
Harry walked up behind Daphne slowly and wrapped his arms around her waist. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmured in her ear. “He can go to Azkaban.”
“I know,” Daphne gulped. “But he got out of a Ministry holding cell last time. Who knows how many Death Eaters still remain in the Ministry’s employ. Look at the mess that Elwyn caused. Killing him would bring a finality to this.”
Yes, it would, and it would tarnish her soul. Even if her words never once wavered from her spoken desire to see her father dead, her body language today said otherwise. He could see the fear in her, the worry over what doing this would turn her into.
She’d never killed anyone before. During their late-night talks about their lives and their pasts, they’d spoken about what they did during the war. Daphne had done her best to keep herself and her sister safe from the Carrows at Hogwarts, and given her father’s support for Voldemort, it was easy to understand why she was so successful in her endeavour. When the Battle of Hogwarts came, she, like all of the other Slytherins, were escorted down into the dungeons. The Death Eaters left them alone, and so they didn’t have to fight.
Harry still remembered every time he’d ever killed. Some of them were nameless, masked Death Eaters he never managed to learn the names of, but he remembered killing them all the same. It wasn’t always an easy thing to kill someone, but it was necessary all the same. If he didn’t kill them, they’d go on to kill someone else, someone innocent.
Cyrus wasn’t going to go on to kill anyone else. He was beaten and ready to be imprisoned for the rest of his life.
Harry held Daphne as her wand arm trembled. Cyrus just stared at Daphne with a look of resignation and acceptance. If she chose to kill him now, he’d harbour her no ill will. All he wanted was for his daughters to be able to live out their lives. He may have failed to save Astoria, but at least Daphne was still able to keep on going. If killing him was what it took to enable her to go on freely without the mental chains of dealing with her father’s betrayal, then Cyrus was willing to accept that. Harry could see it all in every fibre of the man’s being: he loved his daughters and would never hold a grudge against them.
With a shaky breath, Daphne lowered her wand arm.
“I’ll get a team up here to take him into custody,” Harry said softly as he squeezed Daphne tighter.
She only nodded in reply, still staring at her father with mixed emotions in her eyes. Part of her seemed relieved that she didn’t go through with killing him. Another part seemed regretful that she missed her chance.
Double checking that the bonds were still tightly in place around Cyrus, Harry hurriedly left the room and used the floo on this floor of the hospital to call in a small squad of Aurors to take Cyrus into custody. He would question him there and get any other bits of useful information out of the man. Then, it was a simple matter of putting that information to work.
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Harry wished that he could sit alongside Daphne up in the Wizengamot stands. Kingsley had done Harry a favour in expediting Cyrus’ trial, which was helped by the fact that Cyrus didn’t kick up a fuss and allowed things to proceed quickly rather than getting a barrister to slow down the process. Daphne was easy for him to spot up in the tiered-seating of the Wizengamot Chambers. She sat exactly halfway up, surrounded by political allies. Her gorgeous blond hair stood out perfectly against the plum-coloured robes all of the Wizengamot members had to wear for official functions like this. Despite the neutral expression on her face, Harry knew just how torn she still was over all of this. He wanted to comfort and support her, but he had to be down here right now.
Kingsley was watching over the session personally—a rare thing in recent weeks, according to Daphne, due to how much stress he was under. The various factions that made up the fractured Wizengamot did little to hide their disdain or lack of support for the Minister. It was only the lack of an alternative, viable candidate for the Minister position that stopped yet another attempt at a vote of no confidence to be made. Kingsley and Harry had both hoped that their mission in France would’ve been something to help cement Kingsley’s position as Minister, but with Harry being expelled from the country, it’d only further weakened Kingsley’s public support.
Harry still had yet to deal with the press over the matter besides sending Rita a letter that gave her a mostly-truthful version of the events that had taken place. He trusted her to spread the word around her circle of reporters and to see his name cleared of most of the wrongdoings.
Chief Warlock Elphias Doge banged his gavel once again to signal the return to matters after a brief recess. “Lord Shingleton, you may now resume your questioning.”
The lord who’d once temporarily allied with Daphne to enable her to take over her family’s seat in the Wizengamot. His long, thin whiskers on his face looked almost comical against the backdrop of his otherwise bald head.
“Head Auror Potter,” he began, speaking slowly due to his advanced age. “You have explained how you hunted for Mr Greengrass in France and eventually managed to capture him here in Britain, yet you have not made it clear to us as to exactly what Mr Greengrass’ motivations were behind all of his actions. I must say that I am not alone in being quite shocked that such an esteemed member of our body was working with criminals.”
Harry resisted the urge to snort. How was it that these pure-bloods in charge of the Wizengamot still worked so hard to maintain the facade that all of them were innocent of any wrongdoings? As if the assistance so many of them provided Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the takeover of the Ministry wasn’t enough, they also saw fit to ignore all of those whose manors that Harry raided, finding countless illegal dark artefacts and other disgusting practices. Not to mention those who were still members despite being known criminals.
Rhys Orpington glared at Harry from the stands, undoubtedly furious at the fact that Harry had stopped Cyrus’ dark plans. Harry only had speculations as to how involved Rhys was in all of this. The fact that his niece, Nerys, still remained at large. Perhaps she was hiding out at her family’s ancestral home, or she could be in another country entirely. Regardless, Harry would be surprised if she hadn’t clued Rhys in on some of what she and Cyrus were up to.
“Mr Greengrass’ motivations are a secondary matter to these proceedings,” Harry brushed the man’s question off. He wasn’t about to reveal the plot to revive Voldemort and stir up undue panic. “What is important are the crimes he has committed and the punishments that should befall him.”
Lord Shingleton stirred uncomfortably in his seat, slowly shifting his gaze over to Cyrus. The man was imprisoned exactly as Karkaroff had been in that memory Dumbledore had shown him. Thick iron bars formed a domed cage around Cyrus while sharp, metal arrows were stabbed through those bars with the tips pointing right at Cyrus. If he moved too much, he would inevitably dig into those arrows and begin to bleed. They would magically retract if they sensed that the man was close to death, preventing anyone from committing suicide within. Cyrus was chained up inside in some poorly-looking prisoner robes with his head hung low. He’d barely paid any attention to the proceedings thus far. His fate was already sealed.
“Mr Greengrass?” Lord Shingleton prompted the man, but it didn’t garner a reply. “Mr Greengrass? Do you have anything to say on the matter?”
“No,” came the gravelly voice of Cyrus. The Sonorous Charm placed upon his cage helped his voice to reverberate around the room, allowing all to hear.
There were distressed looks at that weak response from several of Cyrus’ former allies within the Wizengamot. Harry hadn’t quite expected to see so many of them appear to be genuinely affected by what Cyrus was going through. He knew a couple of them to be especially good, kind-hearted wizards as well. Many of them looked to Daphne to see how she was handling it, but her face was made of stone. She gave nothing away, not now, not when so much was on the line.
“That’s all from me,” Lord Shingleton sighed, waving his hand towards the Chief Warlock.
“Are there any other questions for the accused or Head Auror Potter?” Doge asked aloud.
“I have one for the Minister!” A voice shouted from within the crowd of Wizengamot members.
Harry didn’t even have to recognise the voice to know exactly who was trying to stir up trouble.
Rhys Orpington stood up, smug and proud. As he turned his head, Harry could see that he’d tied his long, black hair up into a neat bun at the back of his head. It stretched the pallid skin of his face even further, making him look more gaunt than he already was. Evidently, he still hadn’t quite recovered from his brief stint in Azkaban.
“This is a trial, Lord Orpington,” Doge sighed, clearly too experienced at dealing with Rhys by now. “If you wish to direct a question to the Minister, there are more appropriate times and forums in which to do so.”
“I believe that this is the perfect time seeing as how Head Auror Potter is here too,” Rhys retorted brusquely. “Minister, how can you sit amongst us after committing this miscarriage of justice? Lord Greengrass is a man deserving of respect, and this expedited trial is nothing more than a poor attempt on your part to continue to deny the rights of pure-blood witches and wizards.”
Kingsley’s face darkened in obvious frustration as he fought back the urge to dismiss Rhys’ claims as the idiocy that they were, but with his hold on the government nearing the breakpoint, he didn’t risk saying anything to cause a stir. Instead, he looked to Doge to handle the situation.
“Lord Orpington, I believe I told you that—” Doge began to say, but he was swiftly cut off by Rhys shouting over him.
“How long will it be before he starts coming after us?” Rhys shouted, gesturing around at his fellow Wizengamot members. “His rabid dog here keeps targeting pure-blood families and strings them up over silly technicalities and innocent mistakes. It’s a mad grab for power, and I say that enough is—”
The Sonorous Charm that had been empowering Rhys’ voice was suddenly cut off by the Chief Warlock. Doge sat back down, stowing away his wand, but he was forced to draw it again when one of Rhys’ allies reapplied the charm to him.
“—will not be silenced! We will not go off meekly as the Minister tries to enact a dictatorship over us all! We must—”
“Aurors!” Doge shouted.
Harry did nothing but watch with mounting frustration as his Aurors were sent in to stop this mess from getting even worse. A number of Wizengamot members formed up around Rhys, trying to stop the Aurors from getting to him. It formed a tense moment where the Aurors hesitated, uncertain about pushing forward and causing an even greater debacle by taking down more than one Wizengamot member.
And then, suddenly, Rhys stepped out from the middle of the group. His Sonorous Charm was still active, and he held his hands up in surrender to the Aurors.
“I apologise for the outburst, Chief Warlock, but this is just yet another sign of the growing tyranny of this government,” Rhys said, but it was clear that he was speaking to all of the witches and wizards in the room rather than to the Chief Warlock. “This cannot stand! I am planning to call for a vote of no confidence against the Minister, and I ask for everyone’s support in this endeavour.”
Chaos erupted as the Wizengamot squabbled amongst itself. The trial itself was forgotten, and Doge’s gavel was unable to restore order. Harry watched it all with sad eyes. Was this truly what the Wizengamot had been reduced to? He’d heard horrible tales from Daphne and experienced some himself when he was called in to be questioned, but this was just a mess.
The worst part was that it was a pointless endeavour. This was the fourth time now that Rhys had called for a vote of no confidence. Each one before had failed easily, but the margins were steadily growing in Rhys’ favour. Even still, they were a long way off from being able to actually remove Kingsley from power.
Harry’s eyes narrowed at Rhys. Was he just continuing to stir up trouble for trouble’s sake? An effort to keep the Wizengamot busy dealing with itself rather than focusing on the broader issues plaguing society at large? It could be an elaborate smokescreen for something or merely an exercise in futility. It frustrated Harry that he didn’t know the true purpose of this. Each previous vote had merely appeared to deepen the fractures within the Wizengamot, but it was always possible that there was something that Harry was missing.
It took the better part of half an hour to restore order to the chamber, which was better than some of their recent attempts. The strain on the faces of the Aurors and Doge himself reflected just how frequent these complete breakdowns had become.
How had they allowed the Wizengamot to become like this?
By the time everyone was settled, there were only a handful more questions for Harry and Cyrus to answer. Cyrus gave little more than one or two-word answers while Harry did his best to describe everything while obscuring the secret plan to resurrect Voldemort. He had no intention of allowing the pure-blood fanatics who still remained a part of the Wizengamot to get any clever ideas.
Ultimately, the matter of the vote came. While there was dissension from Rhys, the other members of his dark-aligned faction, and some of Cyrus’ closest former allies, the overwhelming majority of the Wizengamot voted to find Cyrus Greengrass guilty of all crimes levied against him, including Daphne. It was seeing her wand raised above her head that helped so many others join in having Cyrus convicted.
A life sentence in Azkaban was Cyrus’ reward for all of his work to destabilise the British Isles. Harry would ensure that the man was placed within the nicest section of the prison, if not for his aid in revealing Emile and the Death Eater’s plans then as a favour to Daphne, Anastasia, and Astoria—he wouldn’t want them to feel guilty seeing how badly his body and mind would have decayed in a worse section of the prison if they ever decided to visit.
Harry met with Daphne after the Wizengamot session ended for the day and took her home. Tonks had assigned six of Harry’s best Aurors to oversee Cyrus’ transport to Azkaban, so he felt relieved knowing that this chapter was all over. However, there was still the lingering matter of what Emile had planned and what desperate means he would go to in order to try to achieve it.
He needed to call Sebastian.
Comments
Cody
I really enjoy reading this story and by the sounds of it there will be a part three which I am happy about.
