Power Plays Chapter 61

The incessant squabbling of warring birds was a preferable sound to the cacophony of the witches and wizards inside of the Wizangmot bickering over pointless topics. How the issue of discussing refurbishing the Wizengamot benches could turn into a debate on the morality of Obliviators removing memories from muggles, Daphne would never understand.

Little and less seemed to make sense in this chamber with each passing day. No matter how hard Daphne and her faction tried to reinstall order with logical discussions, all it took was someone from Rhys’ camp or one of Kingsley’s disaffected followers to ruin everything. Everyone’s patience could only take so much before it snapped, and even the most level-headed men and women could be broken. Everyone except for Daphne.

She understood that the level of scrutiny upon her was unlike that on anyone else. Already, the sympathy of the attempt on her life was wearing off, and reporters throughout Britain were recounting her voting history on important issues within the Wizengamot and any notable statements she made. Several of them were trying to skew her words to make it appear like she was saying something that she wasn’t.

So, Daphne couldn’t afford to get upset like the rest.

Elphias Doge, Chief Warlock and another contender for the Minister position, banged his gavel again to bring about order.

The sound didn’t even reach Daphne’s ears.

Doge was old, tired, and as frustrated as any of them. His fatal flaw was that he let it show. Daphne could see the reporters in the stands furiously scribbling away with their quills. At least a few of them were bound to report on his failings.

Tiberius Ogden was in a shouting match with Julian Oakes, and all of their allies were standing beside them, shouting right along. Aurors stood nearby, wands drawn but kept at their sides just in case anything went wrong.

“Should we do something?” Raphael asked her, clutching a steaming mug of tea in his hands.

“I wish we could,” Daphne sighed morosely. “I doubt that even a fire in this chamber could stop them from screaming in each other’s faces until the very last moment. If we intervene, we’ll just look like we’re adding to the chaos.”

“And if we do nothing then we’ll look lazy and powerless,” Morwen countered.

“I can work with appearing powerless over impotent,” Daphne replied. “But you’re right; if things don’t stop now…”

If noise wasn’t stopping the bickering, then Daphne had an idea of something else that could.

“Everyone, close your eyes and cover them,” she told her friends.

Morwen smirked in amusement, recognising instantly what Daphne was about to do. She closed her eyes and covered them with her liver-spotted hands, and everyone else did the same.

Standing up, Daphne closed her eyes too as she drew her wand. “Lumos Maxima!” She called out in a strong, powerful voice to ensure that there was no mistaking her intentions.

Painful cries and roars of anger reverberated throughout the chamber as dozens of Wizengamot members, Aurors, and reporters were all struck by a brilliant white light. It was disorienting and confusing, and the effect was only enhanced by Tiberius banging his gavel over and over as he tried to shield his eyes.

After only a few seconds, Daphne ended her spell. “Nox,” she muttered. The light disappeared, and she was left with everyone’s confused and somewhat angry faces looking her way.

“Perhaps we can return to important matters once more,” she said loudly. “As amusing as it is to watch you lot squabble like children, there are important matters to be discussed… such as examining the proposed budget changes for the Department of Magical Games and Sports as they prepare for the Quidditch World Cup in Wales next year.”

“Lady Greengrass! That was most impolite!” Doge bristled. “That is not how any of us should behave in these chambers!”

“So we should go back to what was just happening? Where no one was listening to your call for order?” Daphne asked rhetorically. Doge’s face reddened in anger and embarrassment. “We have gathered here on an extra Saturday session because we are so far behind in the work that needs to be done, and yet you—in your position as Chief Warlock—continue to allow this chaos to run unchecked. I will not apologise for taking more drastic measures that are so clearly needed if you are incapable of doing your job.”

“Aurors!” Doge shouted at the top of his lungs, looking uncontrolled. “Remove Lady Greengrass from these chambers at once!”

The men and women clearly hesitated at the order. Whether they supported Harry or not, they all knew that Daphne was his fiancée. None of them looked ready to explain to their boss that they’d hauled Daphne out of the Wizengamot chambers, even if they were ordered to do so.

“This chamber has been a sham for months now!” Daphne called out. “And if you aren’t going to act as a leader who keeps things in check, then I will!”

“Aurors!”

This time, they started to move towards her. Daphne walked casually to meet them, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. She’d said her piece and ensured that it would be reported in the press thanks to the reporters here. Kingsley had left the Wizengamot fractured and his government weak; Daphne had just showed that she was willing to do what needed to be done to fix it, even if it was just a silly political manoeuvre.

Neither Auror who met her dared to put a hand on her. She gave them each a reassuring smile and followed them out of the chambers, cherishing the peace and silence that remained in her wake. She didn’t mind being removed early; the session was almost over with and even with her words, she doubted that a single issue would actually be solved by the end of the session.

“Sorry for the trouble,” she said to the Aurors at her side.

“No trouble, Lady Greengrass,” an older man said—his name was Shaffle or Shaffer or something along those lines, Daphne thought. “Gave us a break from all of that noise. Next time you’re going to blind us though, we’d appreciate a warning first.”

“Does my fiancé give any warnings before he does something reckless?” Daphne chuckled.

“No, he does not,” the old man replied with a mischievous smile. “I suppose it makes sense that a couple of troublemakers ended up together.”

He didn’t intend any offence with his words, so Daphne took none.

“At least with me you can be assured that even if my trouble is just as dramatic, it’s far less likely to be life-threatening.”

The old man guffawed. “I can appreciate that.”

As they passed through the set of doors at the end of the corridor that led out to the lift and offices on this floor, the man opened the door for her. She stepped through smoothly and turned on her heels to face him.

“Thank you for the escort,” she said. “Don’t worry; I won’t try to break back in.”

“We’ll need to stand watch here anyways,” the old man replied, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s protocol. You have yourself a good day now.”

“You as well,” Daphne replied.

She’d barely made it a few steps away when one of the side doors opened and a few reporters and photographers came bursting out into the corridor. Their eyes instantly locked onto Daphne, and they came rushing over.

“Lady Greengrass!” The first woman, who nearly tripped over her own feet racing over to her, shouted. “Are you positioning yourself to become the next Chief Warlock?”

Daphne turned slowly, letting the others catch up. She wanted to ensure that multiple outlets recorded her words. A few flashes went off as photographers snapped photos.

“No, I am not,” she stated firmly. “But neither can I abide by the chaos that was present in that room today and on so many other days. It is no secret that the Wizengamot has been broken for some time now, and just in these moments when we are preparing to hold a new election, things have only gotten worse. This is a time when all of us should be coming together in order to prepare for a better tomorrow.”

Another reporter leapt in with a question. “Do you think that the Chief Warlock was right to have you removed from today’s session?”

“Yes,” Daphne admitted instantly. “Anyone disruptive as I was should be removed; however, there were twenty others who should have been removed before me. The Chief Warlock should not have allowed things to get to the state where I needed to step in. I suspect that the real reason he had me removed was because he was embarrassed to not have thought to have done what I did sooner.”

More flashes rang out as she spoke. Daphne hoped that the photos would turn out well.

“Is this the type of leadership we can expect to see if you become the next Minister for Magic?” The first reporter asked.

“I hope that it will be far less dramatic,” Daphne cracked a small smile. “But everyone in Britain and beyond can expect that I will not tolerate chaos within our government. I will ensure that every department works efficiently and cooperatively with one another. The divisions within the Wizengamot may not be mended easily, but I will ensure that this esteemed body returns to doing what it has always meant to do: pass legislation and act upon the wishes of the public in a timely manner.”

“Elphias Doge is also in the running for this position,” the third and final reporter called out. “How do you think you fare against such an experienced man?”

“Quite well if his lack of effort in the Wizengamot today reflects his ability to find popular support,” Daphne answered. “I see our Chief Warlock as a man past his prime and unable to manage the incredible shifts we have seen in our society over the past few years. Unlike him, I understand how to ensure a prosperous future for us all while we adapt to any potential hurdles thrown in our path.”

Daphne glanced over at a clock. It was nearly five, and the Wizengamot would be ending soon.

“I apologise, but I have a meeting shortly that I cannot afford to miss,” Daphne half lied. “Thank you for your questions.”

As if ignoring her words, the reporters tried desperately to get one last quote from her, but Daphne merely walked away. It would become chaotic out there in just a few moments, and she didn’t want to battle with any other Wizengamot members to try to get a word in to the press.

She kept her head held up high for any photos of her retreating form all the way until she reached her office. A tap of her wand unlocked the door for her, but as she stepped inside, she was surprised to find that it was already occupied.

“Surprise!” Tracey exclaimed with a bright smile as she held up a bag of sweets, glancing over her shoulder in the chair she was sitting on. “Want one?”

“No thanks,” Daphne said as she suddenly deflated. The Wizengamot was becoming more and more draining with each passing day. She walked around and collapsed into her chair behind her desk, thankful for the respite.

Suddenly, that confident, cocky facade faded away from her face. When she was here alone with her best friend, she didn’t need to be the Daphne Greengrass that everyone knew her to be. She could be vulnerable.

“I hate all of this stupid politicking,” Daphne admitted in a quiet voice. In the silence of her office, it wasn’t like anyone else could overhear her anyway. The Privacy Charms ensured that no one outside of these walls could understand a single word that was being said, and all currently-known artefacts that recorded voices or sound would be rendered null as well.

Tracey leaned back in her seat. “I thought that this was what you always wanted.”

Her voice sounded sympathetic, but Daphne felt little of it in her soul. She felt as though she ought to be doing better, offering more. The fact that she wasn’t revelling in this state that she was in felt like a betrayal to all that she’d dreamt about for years now.

“It is,” Daphne said, sure of herself. “But it isn’t quite what I imagined.”

“Not everyone gives into your whims like they did back at Hogwarts,” Tracey noted with no small amount of amusement.

Daphne rolled her eyes playfully. “It’s not like that.”

“But it is,” Tracey insisted. “Isn’t it?”

Daphne supposed it was, to a degree. Dealing with so many individuals within the Wizengamot meant that she uncovered a wide array of ideas and perspectives on incredibly complicated topics, and it pained her to see just how few people truly understood the issues at play or how their opinions would affect it. In contrast, Hogwarts was a much simpler place with juvenile issues that were generally low stakes, meaning that it was far easier for Daphne to get her way or to at least get people to go along with her whims.

The Wizengamot held a tremendous amount of sway as to how Britain was organised and what rules and regulations affected everyone within it. And yet so few chose to truly immerse themselves in the culture that they were affecting. Most spent their days held up in their manor other than the brief visits they made to the Ministry. It was sickening to its core, and Daphne wanted to change it.

Yet none would so easily give up their powers. Once they’d achieved a near-permanent status within the Wizengamot, everyone assumed that their opinions were worth hearing. In the deepest points of their hearts, they believed that they knew better than everyone else.

Well, Daphne didn’t see things that way.

She examined everyone and their opinions independently, not wanting to fall trap to the idea that people couldn’t change or have newly-informed opinions on complicated issues, even if she personally despised them. Her assistants kept her readily apprised as to any new statements or moves coming out from the Wizengamot or the Ministry at large, and they’d done a wonderful job thus far. Hermione had been corralling them, almost acting as Daphne’s campaign manager.

The news kept trickling in, and Daphne despaired ever more over it all.

Rhys Orpington and his cronies were still insatiable in their outcries against the outgoing Kingsley. While Daphne didn’t inherently disagree with some of their statements, it was clear that their main focus was to deliver a contrarian platform to what Kingsley had established since the end of Voldemort’s reign. It sickened her to see so many clinging to it, knowing that many of those muggleborns and half-bloods would see their future prospects cut in half if Rhys had his way. Amelia was in no way better as she continued to articulate that she was somehow better than Kingsley while also being distinct from Daphne, and therefore Harry.

And what was worse was that bloody article in the Daily Prophet. It was the first attack, a subtle one towards Daphne that hinted at some foul play in the attack. Amelia hadn’t necessarily directly implicated Daphne in being the one behind the attack, but she had drawn up quite a few hard-hitting questions about the potential motivations behind the attack and why Harry had still yet to find a true lead in the investigation. It was the first crack in Daphne and Harry’s credibility, and they needed to respond to it quickly.

Daphne buried her face in her hands and murmured to her best friend. “Hermione wants me, Harry, and Delphini to give a joint interview to Rita Skeeter of all people later today.”

Tracey paused for a moment. “I understand why you and Harry are there, but why does she want Delphini?”

“Because she doesn’t feel like the public is still over the fact that we’re helping to raise Voldemort’s daughter,” Daphne said in frustration. “She wants to have Delphini front and centre, a show of our support so that she can’t later be used as a black mark against my campaign.”

Tracey scoffed. “She’s just a little girl. The people acting like she’s in any way tainted by her parent’s actions or destined to somehow follow them are just sick in the head.”

“You can say that again,” Daphne murmured. “Neither Harry or I want to see her dragged into this.”

“Then don’t,” Tracey said simply. “Keep her out of the limelight and take every comment about her on the chin. The public will understand.”

Will they? Daphne wasn’t as optimistic as Tracey was about the intelligence of the witches and wizards of Britain. All it took was a simple look back at how the press lambasted Harry throughout his time at Hogwarts and how even his fellow Hogwarts students bought into the obvious character assassination. Just look at Rhys’ rise to power. A loud, confident voice that never ceased spitting out whatever lies it wanted to would always find support amongst the sheep.

Could she get away without involving Delphini in this?

No, she couldn’t. Even ignoring the politics of it all, she didn’t want to have to keep Delphini hidden away forever. She was proud of that young girl who’d become a part of her family.

“I’ll talk with Harry about it and we’ll make a decision together,” Daphne replied. She already knew what Harry’s opinion would be. He was just as protective of Delphini as he was, but he knew that cowering away from whatever was coming their way wasn’t the best strategy of dealing with it.

Tracey evidently decided that this was enough discussion on difficult topics because she threw a sweet at Daphne’s face. “Cheer up. We’re going to go have a wonderful supper with Harry, Delphini, and your sister.”

“And Draco,” Daphne added.

Tracey gagged. “Don’t remind me. I still can’t believe that your sister let that cretin touch her.”

Daphne smirked in amusement. “He’s not so bad. At least, not anymore.”

“I’m glad I was stuck in a coma to miss out on dealing with him while he was still a prat,” Tracey said. “It was nice that he came to visit me a few times in the hospital, I suppose.”

“And he’s doing right by Astoria every day,” Daphne added. “And that’s good enough for me.”

Tracey stood up from her chair and stowed her package of sweets in her bag. Daphne got up too and collected her things before bringing over the jar of floo powder.

“So, how many times have Harry and Draco duelled since the two of you got together?” Tracey asked curiously.

Daphne laughed quietly. “Twice, when they were both drunk.”

“Did Harry win both times?”

“Obviously,” Daphne smiled. “My man won’t let anyone take him down.”