----------------------------------------
12 Grimmauld place, Black family townhouse.
The Black family was gathering to discuss the upcoming Ministerial election, time drawing close for the climax of all they'd worked for. At the head of the long, dark oak table sat Sirius, the current Lord of the House of Black, his expression as stormy as the weather outside.
Even with all the work they'd done. That he'd done. It was still too close to call. Neither he nor Bagnold could say for sure right now which one would be the winner.
Each of them had votes that drew them about equal, and the few neutrals remaining were playing coy, refusing to show their cards.
Around him were the esteemed members of the family, if you substituted esteemed for crazy bigots… His grandfather Arcturus sitting opposite of himself at the table - the patriarch of the family and the one responsible for its dreary state before he arrived to fix it.
Cassiopeia, the woman whose sharp tongue was feared by many, and yet failed to achieve anything noteworthy, was seated next to his grandfather. She'd helped somewhat, he could grudgingly admit, and compared to Cygnus and Pollux she'd certainly been more effective.
But like most of his family, she'd gotten too used to her family reputation, her skills rusted, her legendary wit not quite as sharp as he'd remembered. A pity.
Pollux and Cygnus were sitting opposite of each other at the middle of the table, both men having contributed very little to Sirius's plans, mostly being a hindrance, if he were honest. If he was more Black than he was, he might have contemplated removing them from play entirely. Like he had Walburga, or something more permanent…
If he became Minister, he might actually have to think on it, because odds were these two idiots would cause a scandal at some point.
Lastly his gaze was drawn to the most useful member of the family. Narcissa. Seated by him, as his most trusted confidant, which didn't say much as he didn't trust any of them, not really.
She was the most useful, however.
As the family members settled into their seats, the tension in the room was palpable. The upcoming election for the Minister of Magic was the primary concern, with Sirius poised to win the popular vote easily. However, the Wizengamot, the powerful governing body whose votes truly mattered, seemed less inclined to follow along.
The popular vote had swayed some members his way, but not enough he thought. He didn't like waiting on the few remaining neutrals, because odds were they'd end up bribed by Bagnold in the end, and in that case it would be his loss.
If it was only money in question, he'd give them half the Black vault if necessary, but the remaining holdouts dealt in favors. And Sirius's goal once he became Minister, would fall apart if he tied so many strings to himself from the old traditionalists.
Sirius looked around the table, his eyes lingering on each family member, gauging their readiness for the discussion ahead. "We are on the brink of something monumental," He began, his voice steady but urgent. "The popular vote is in our favor, we've done good work there, but the Wizengamot remains a challenge. If anyone has any ideas, now would be the time to share..."
Narcissa leaned forward, her eyes flashing with frustration. "Perhaps if you had considered securing a marriage alliance, we wouldn't be in this predicament," She said, her tone accusatory.
Sirius grimaced, but held his tongue back from his immediately snappish response. Narcissa would never understand what held him back from finalizing that particular arrangement.
Cassiopeia nodded in agreement, her lips pursed. "Indeed, Sirius. A strategic marriage could have swayed key votes in our favor. You've neglected this aspect far too long."
Sirius sighed, rubbing his temples, dealing with family gave him migraines and they'd just sat down. "I understand the importance of alliances, but my focus has been on presenting policies that will benefit our world, not on finding a bride." He gave Cassiopeia a dry look, well aware of her single status, "And the ties a marriage alliance would bind me in are no different than some of the favors we've been asked for, and would completely destroy what I'm trying to do."
Arcturus slammed his fist on the table, making the crystal goblets clatter. "Policies! Bah! Policies mean nothing without power to enforce them, and you know it! You should have listened to Narcissa. What use are her womanly wiles if she cannot even secure a marriage alliance for you?"
Narcissa's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Grandfather, with all due respect, I have tried. But Sirius is stubborn and insists on doing things his way." She defended herself.
Sirius wanted to sigh, but he allowed his family to keep talking. He'd completely defeat the point of trying to get their thoughts if he took charge completely of the meeting.
It was Narcissa's own fault, really. If she hadn't acted so beautifully smug after their dalliances, then the rest of the family wouldn't have figured out exactly how she was negotiating with him.
Cygnus, for once acting the diplomat instead of the weak fool, interjected. "Enough. We must focus on the task at hand." He said, before sinking into his chair slightly as everyone's gaze turned to him, "Criticizing each other will not win us the election. We need to strategize a plan on how to gain more support within the Wizengamot for these last few days." He trailed off weakly at the end, but it was more backbone than Sirius had seen from him in a while.
Good for him.
Maybe in another decade he'll actually be a useful human being.
Pollux leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully. "We have a few avenues left to explore," He said slowly, as if testing the words, seeing if anyone was wont to stop him. "Firstly, we can still attempt to negotiate with the undecided members of the Wizengamot. Promises of political favors or positions within the Ministry might sway their votes." He grimaced and held up a hand before Sirius could say anything, "I know you are against it, but losing is worse than owing some favors…"
Arcturus snorted derisively. "Bribes and promises. The problem with them is that it won't last, these last holdouts are the slipperiest, they won't follow easily, or cheaply."
Pollux continued, ignoring the interruption, with only a slight tightening of his expression. "Secondly, we can use our influence to create pressure from the public. If we can generate enough popular support, some members might switch their votes to avoid backlash."
They did have enormous public support compared to Bagnold's puppet. It in itself wouldn't get them the win, but Pollux wasn't entirely wrong in that some Wizengamot members would be hesitant to do obviously thumb their noses at the public by electing someone even the dimmest of the sheep will recognize had no public backing.
Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "I've been working on rallying public opinion of course. We've held rallies, and I've given speeches highlighting our platform. But we need more. Perhaps a grand event to showcase our vision for the future?" He suggested.
Something that would showcase more obviously to the Wizengamot the risks they ran in so obviously disregarding the public and his hold of them.
Why, if he lost… He had the makings of a revolution on his hands.
He wouldn't do so of course. But it wouldn't hurt to put the thought in some members' ears..
Cassiopeia's eyes gleamed. "A grand gala, you mean? Invite the key members of the Wizengamot, along with influential figures from our society. Show them the strength and unity of the Black family."
Sirius shook his head slowly, "Yes, but also no. Of course we have to invite all those people, but we need to make it an event, give the regular people a chance to be involved - give the lords and ladies a view of how much they adore me."
A ball or gala for the pureblood elite, and perhaps some sort of carnival adjacent, free entry for all the normal citizens, and within perfect viewing sight from the ballroom…
They'd have to expand the townhouse gardens massively, but it was built to be able to handle rapid growth like that.
Narcissa leaned back, a calculating look on her face, she obviously could parse through exactly what Sirius wanted, it's what made her such a useful right hand. "And who will be your date to this grand gala, Sirius? Appearing alone will only reinforce the idea that you are not serious about alliances." She practically purred out, still no doubt considering a possible marriage alliance, if not consummated before the vote.
They didn't have time for that. But the contract could be struck at the eleventh hour.
Sirius's jaw tightened. "I will find someone suitable. But let's focus on the preparations first." He said tightly, avoiding it.
He had decided a marriage with someone he'd likely end up hating wasn't worth it. Especially if he was to end up taking care of Harry Potter. He didn't need that kind of toxic relationship as his role model. The world fucked him enough, and although Sirius didn't care as much for the child as the original had, he was hardly that cruel either that he'd purposely make things worse.
Arcturus glared at Narcissa. "You've knelt before him, worked your charms, but where has it gotten us? You've failed to secure even a single advantageous match. If you cannot use your wiles to benefit this family, what good are they?" The old man seeing his opportunity to grouse now that Narcissa had waded back into the subject.
Narcissa stood abruptly, her hands clenched into fists, her cheeks blossoming red. "I have done everything in my power to support this family. But it's not my fault if Sirius won't play his part!"
Sirius raised a hand to calm her. "Narcissa, sit down. This is not helping." He cautioned, surprised at her emotional reaction, it was hardly like her.
They'd had their dalliance for two months now, and he'd rarely seen her get worked up by anything. Trust Arcturus to find a way to let his grumpiness about everything throw the meeting out of whack.
He sent his grandfather a quelling look, warning him away from any future derails, it was not helping.
Cassiopeia shot a warning glance at Arcturus as well, "This is not the time to tear each other apart. We need solutions, not accusations."
Arcturus grumbled but fell silent, his eyes still burning with frustration. Like Narcissa, he'd been adamant Sirius marry.
Sirius suspected in his case it had less to do with alliances, and more to do with ensuring the line continued.
Sirius cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation, they all seemed in agreement about beginning with this gala, so they'd start there. "We need to assign tasks. Pollux, you will handle negotiations with the undecided members. Cassiopeia, you oversee the preparations for the gala with Narcissa. Cygnus and Arcturus I need you to quell any unrest in the more traditional members that we have swayed, to keep them as such. Narcissa, when you're not helping Cassie, work with our public relations team to maximize media coverage and buy in from the general public. I don't want anyone to miss this party, we'll give the sheep a carnival to enjoy in sight of our reluctant members."
Sirius nodded at his own orders, seeing the reaction of his family, feeling a semblance of order returning to the meeting. "I will continue with the public engagements and speeches for now. We need to show the Wizarding world that we are united and strong and most importantly that I am the only choice for the public."
Cygnus glanced hesitantly at Sirius. "And your date for the gala?" He brought up quietly, no doubt not wanting another argument, but it would be an important choice.
Sirius hesitated for a moment. "I will speak with Isabella Zabini. Perhaps she can support us without needing to bind it with marriage."
Narcissa scoffed, a distasteful expression on her face. "Isabella Zabini, the most enigmatic and ambitious one of the neutrals?"
Sirius sighed, "We can only try." He admitted.
In the days that followed, the Black family threw themselves into their respective tasks. The grand ballroom of the townhouse was transformed into a vision of elegance and power. Invitations were sent out to the most influential witches and wizards, and the event quickly became the talk of the town.
This also trickled down, as the separate event, held at the same time, in the expanded townhouse garden, circulated amongst the magical population.
It was all arranged on incredibly short notice. But magic could fix most things, and due to the upcoming election, his name was in vogue enough that even the stuffiest purebloods would show up, because they couldn't afford to miss it.
The regular people would of course show up based on the fact he'd used the most magical world of them all.
Free.
He wondered if Andromeda would get mad for him co-opting her new charity organization as the organizer of the event…
It did neatly force her to return to the Black home, or face questions on why she was absent from her own charity's event.
Perhaps a bit manipulative of him, but he wanted her back in the fold. He'd been fine with leaving her mostly out of it, but if he was going to succeed, he'd need all hands on deck.
And that included her. And her husband.
And whether she liked it or not, once she was here, the world would see her as back in Black, whether she was or not.
She was going to hex him so hard…
But in the end.
Still his win.
----------------------------------------
The night of the gala arrived, and the Black family townhouse was expanded to larger than life, more akin to a proper manor on the inside. It was aglow with light and life. Guests arrived in their finest robes, the air buzzing with excitement and speculation. Sirius, dressed impeccably, made his way through the crowd, greeting each guest with a warm smile and a firm handshake.
The carnival had already started out back, the large windows from the ballroom giving a perfect view of the mass of humanity out there, all supporting Sirius Black. And if the free drinks were adding in the chants of Sirius for Minister that spontaneously popped up, well…
It was a small cost to pay.
At his side was Isabella Zabini, her striking figure squeezed inside an elegant tight gown that seemed to shimmer with every movement. She had of course accepted the date. Even at such short notice.
She had her own agenda, Sirius knew. And definitely wanted to marry him, holding her votes over his head. This gala was also an opportunity for her to get what she wanted - as it was for Sirius to try and convince her of what he wanted, without giving in to her demands.
The grand ballroom itself was a sight to behold. Chandeliers floated above, casting a soft, magical glow over the room. Enchanted flowers bloomed and changed colors, filling the air with a delicate fragrance. The tables were laden with sumptuous feasts, roasted meats with saffron glaze, enchanted soufflés that changed flavors with each bite, and goblets of sparkling elf-made wine that never seemed to empty.
It all cost a load of galleons to set up so quickly, but money was useless sitting around, only spent to further his ambitions did it have any worth.
Narcissa and Cassiopeia kept a watchful eye on the interactions between members of the Wizengamot, noting the receptive responses from several members. Pollux and Cygnus moved through the crowd, discreetly reminding certain members of the promises made, ensuring that they felt the weight of their potential support.
Arcturus held court with several of the traditionalists, some of which still called themselves neutrals. Standing by one of the tall windows, the backdrop of public support lending aid to his arguments.
The gala was soon in full swing, the grand ballroom of the Black family home filled with the crème de la crème of the Wizarding world. Light from the floating chandeliers cast a warm glow over the elegant décor, the sound of enchanting music mixed with the hum of conversations, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Sirius navigated the sea of guests with practiced ease, yet his mind was elsewhere. He needed to secure more votes from the Wizengamot, and there was one person whose support could tip the balance in his favor, his date, Isabella Zabini.
Sirius had managed to get her to the gala, but now he needed to ensure her support without binding himself in a marriage alliance. He finally found time to drag her to a quiet alcove, away from the bustling crowd, once he'd finished his duties in greeting all the guests.
"Sirius," She said with a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Not enjoying your own party? Dragging me off to a quiet place like this could make a woman think naughty things, you realize?"
"Isabella," He responded wearily, used to her flirtatious behavior by now. "In case I forgot to say it when you arrived, I'm glad you could make it, with you on my arm I definitely have the most beautiful of dates. I was hoping we could have a more private conversation now..."
Her smile widened, and she gestured to the empty space beside her. "Of course. I always enjoy our little chats."
Sirius sat down on the ledge, taking a deep steadying breath. "Isabella, I need your support for the election. Your influence in the Wizengamot could make all the difference." He met her eyes firmly, "You know this, and you've been holding out for something that will never happen…"
She tilted her head, regarding him with a sly look. "And what do I get in return for my support then, Sirius? Surely you understand that such a favor does not come without a price." She leaned forward slightly, her cleavage on display, "If I don't get my marriage, what do I get?" She purred, a taunting little smirk on her face.
She was well aware of the position she held. She could in all likelihood break the deadlock, if she tipped over his way, the rest of the undecided would likely follow.
"I understand," He said, his voice steady. "I am prepared to offer you anything within my power. Positions within the Ministry, political favors, resources - name it, and it's yours."
He hated it. He didn't want to do it. But if it was just her… He could potentially live with owing just one of them, this kind of favor.
His family were correct in that his principles on the subject were worth less than hippogriff shit if he lost.
He put himself in this situation due to his reluctance in tying the knot. He'd have to sacrifice some of what he wanted to dig himself out of it.
She leaned closer, her perfume enveloping him in a delicate, intoxicating scent. "Anything, Sirius? You know what I want." She trilled seductively.
He met her gaze, his expression hardening. "I know what you're implying, but I cannot give you that. I will not enter into a marriage alliance." He said, steadfast in that conviction.
Isabella's eyes narrowed, her smile turning into a pout. "Why not? It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Your political career would soar, and I would secure a position of influence and some amazing time between the sheets. It seems like a perfect match."
Sirius shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. "I have my reasons. Marriage should be based on more than just political gain." That wasn't all of it, but he wasn't willing to share more with the Black Widow.
She laughed softly, a musical sound that was both enchanting and slightly mocking. "How very noble of you. But nobility alone doesn't win elections, Sirius. Power does. And a marriage alliance with me would give you that power."
He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, not caring about showing his frustration here, this woman already knew as much, he didn't have to keep up pretenses. "There must be something else I can offer. Anything but marriage. You will not get what you want entirely out of this, Isabella." He acknowledged, "But it doesn't mean you have to come away without anything, just name it."
She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. "Why are you so opposed to it? Is there someone else?"
"No," He replied quickly. Merlin knew if he told her about Narcissa she'd likely begin plotting murder. "It's not that. I just... I believe in choosing my own path, not being forced into one."
Isabella sighed, her expression softening slightly. "I understand your sentiment, Sirius, but you must realize that in our world, power and alliances often dictate our choices. You are in a position where personal feelings must sometimes be set aside for the greater good."
Sirius looked away, the weight of her words sinking in. He knew she was right in a manner of speaking, even as he hated those two words, but he also knew he couldn't betray his own principles to that extent. "Isabella, I respect you and the power you hold in this situation. But I can't bind myself in a marriage like this. There has to be another way."
She reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Very well, Sirius. I will… Consider your request. But remember, my support doesn't come easily. You will owe me, and I will collect that debt in due time." Her eyes were colder as she gazed at him, "If I choose to help…"
With that, she rose gracefully from her seat, giving him one last enigmatic smile before gliding back into the crowd. Sirius watched her go, a mixture of relief and unease settling over him. He had perhaps secured her support, but at what cost? And the fact he didn't have a straight answer still left him going forward without a sure resolution. The thought lingered in his mind as he rejoined the gala, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily on his shoulders.
He could solve it all with a marriage contract. It didn't even have to be her. He could choose another one if the neutrals.
He just… It was one step too far for him. Bringing a stranger into his life so intimately only for his ambitions, using them, as they used him.
He would not.
He could not.
The night continued, the music and laughter carrying on, but Sirius felt a shift within himself. He had navigated one hurdle, but many more lay ahead. He glanced around the ballroom, catching sight of the key members of the Wizengamot. Each interaction, each conversation, would be crucial. The stakes were higher than ever, and he knew he had to play his cards right.
The noises from the carnival were infiltrating the ballroom, noise canceling charms deliberately not applied.
He located Andromeda at one of the windows, holding a goblet of wine, staring out at the mass of people enjoying themselves in a far more pleasant manner than this fake environment.
"Ted couldn't make it?" He asked quietly, as he came to stand next to her. His own date off somewhere, politicking or flirting, no doubt.
Andromeda didn't say anything for several minutes, white knuckles holding on to her goblet.
Sirius almost spoke up again, but she finally broke the silence, speaking over the chants of Sirius for Minister from down below them.
"I sent Ted to the carnival with Nymphadora, they'd enjoy that far more than this…" She said, turning his way with an emotionless expression on her face.
"I suppose that's only fair, although I would have ensured his safety here as well. Both of theirs." Sirius said, stepping up to the window, his hands behind his back.
As Lord Black he held complete power over Andromeda in this building, and she knew it. Part of why she had no intention to return, no doubt. The least he could do was to appear non threatening, and keep his hands far away from his wand.
Especially considering he'd forced her to come.
"Why won't you leave me be? There was no reason to use the charity for this event. You would have had the same response if you'd just called it a Black family gala." Andromeda asked, still entirely coldly and emotionless.
He didn't doubt she was heavily occluding right now.
He sighed, "Deep down you already know why, Andi, this family needs you, needs your perspective, your skills. We have to change, and who better than the one who already changed, to show us how?"
There was silence between them again for a while, as they simply listened to the party going on below.
"That's pure hippogriff shit." Andromeda replied bluntly, "You're not running for Minister for any other reason than power." She scoffed, showing some actual emotions, "If you really wanted to change the family, you wouldn't have directed their course on taking over the Ministry of Magic."
Sirius really wondered how on earth she'd become so jaded - and so against him in particular. He could understand the rest of the family, but why him?
"Is there nothing I can do to convince you, Andi? This gala alone will have brought your charity thousands of galleons, is this not for the good of everyone?" Sirius tried, a perturbed look on his face.
He'd known she'd be hard to convince, but he hadn't expected her to show up with not even a chink in her armor.
Andromeda looked at him, before placing her untouched goblet down on a nearby table, "No." Was all she said, before she swept away, leaving him standing there alone.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Sirius wouldn't give up. He'd forced her to be here, he could understand her reluctance. Hopefully the fact he did not use his powers over her would eventually sink in, and begin the process of showing her that he did not intend to ruin what she had with Ted and Nymphadora.
The night continued on, Sirius spending it with the cream of the wizarding world, wishing he could kill at least half of them.
The gala and the carnival ended up a success in almost every way in the end. And he did see some progress.
Yet still, he could not say for certain he'd be Minister.
He couldn't wait and hope for Zabini to choose him, he'd have to simply try harder elsewhere.
There would be no rest for him.
He'd have to ask for help.
He wasn't so prideful that he'd lose the vote for something as simple as bending his neck slightly.
Even if it would be infuriating.
----------------------------------------
The day after, late evening, Hogwarts Headmaster's office,
The flickering flames in the hearth of the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts cast long shadows on the walls, as Sirius moved inside with a purposeful stride, his face set in a mask of determination. The usual fake warmth that accompanied a meeting with Dumbledore was absent, replaced by a palpable tension.
"Good evening, Sirius," Dumbledore greeted, his voice gentle but firm. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
Sirius did not waste time with pleasantries, Dumbledore already knew exactly why he was here, no matter what he'd say. "We need to talk, Albus. The election is right around the corner, and the votes are not where they need to be. Your public support has been helpful, but it's not enough. We need you to do more."
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he considered Sirius's words. "I have already spoken out on your behalf, and my faction within the Wizengamot is aligned with your campaign. I have made my position clear." He said almost gently, peering at him over his half-moon glasses.
"That's not enough!" Sirius ground out, his frustration over the last two months, boiling over. "We're teetering on the edge of losing this election. We need more votes from the neutral families, and you have the influence to sway them. You could lobby for us, press them to support our cause."
Unsaid between them was the fact that wizards respected power more than almost anything. Dumbledore actively pushing would make some of them fold. Which was why the old man never actually went ahead and did that. His own principles in play.
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed slightly. "I understand your urgency, Sirius, but I have given you my support. My public endorsement and the alignment of my faction are significant gestures. I cannot go beyond that." He restated, more firmly this time.
Sirius's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Why not? You have the power to tip the scales. These neutral families respect you, they listen to you. A few words from you could change everything." You owe me…
Dumbledore's expression remained calm, though a hint of sadness touched his features. "I have already committed to speaking out publicly and aligning my faction with yours. That is the extent of what I can offer." He repeated, not even bothering to talk around it.
It said something when Albus Dumbledore wouldn't engage in even a debate, just repeating his point. He was not going to move one inch.
This had been a mistake. Sirius had hoped for some leftover guilt or shame to push the envelope. But there was nothing.
Sirius took a deep breath, trying to reign in his anger. "So that's it, then? You're just going to sit back and watch as we potentially lose this election? After everything we've done, after all the sacrifices?"
Bagnold and Fudge would hardly forget where Dumbledore had aligned himself, a loss would hurt the old man too, yet he wouldn't step onto the field…
Dumbledore's gaze did not waver. "You must understand, Sirius, that my influence is not limitless. Each individual in the Wizengamot has their own dreams, their own agendas. They are not merely pawns to be moved at my command. My public support is a powerful statement, but I cannot force their hands." He stressed, "That is one step away from tyranny."
Sirius felt a surge of frustration and bitterness. "I expected better from you, Albus. You, of all people, should understand what's at stake here. This isn't just about politics; it's about the future of our world."
He'd actually expected him to do more. He didn't know why, but he'd expected Dumbledore to take this chance to get someone aligned with his views into the hot seat.
And yet at the finishing line he'd quibble over a few Lords pressured, really?
Dumbledore sighed softly, his eyes reflecting a deep well of experience and understanding. "Sirius, if you truly wish to be Minister, you must remember this moment. Leadership is not about coercion or manipulation. It is about inspiring others to follow you because they believe in your vision. Trying to squeeze more from those who have already given much will not win you loyalty or respect."
Sirius's jaw tightened, his teeth gritting together. "I will keep my word, Albus. But mark my words, I had expected more from you."
Dumbledore watched him shrewdly, "As had I of you, Sirius, or in this situation perhaps it's more appropriate to call you Lord Black?"
Sirius growled low in his throat, "Albus, I can't understand you, this… This sitting on your hands bullshite is how everything went to hell last time around!"
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "And perhaps one day you will understand the reasons behind my actions. Power is a delicate thing, Sirius. It is not about bending others to your will, but about guiding them towards a common goal."
Sirius turned away, the weight of Dumbledore's words pressing heavily on his shoulders. He had come seeking more support, more influence, but instead, he was leaving with a lesson in leadership that he was not yet ready to accept, couldn't afford to. He needed to win. He paused at the door, looking back at Dumbledore one last time.
"This isn't over," He said quietly. "I will find a way to win this election. With or without your help."
Dumbledore inclined his head, his expression inscrutable. "I wish you the best of luck, Sirius. Remember, true power lies not in what you can take, but in what you can inspire others to give, winning isn't everything my boy, the journey can be as rewarding as the end."
Sirius left the office, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. He knew Dumbledore was right in some ways, but the urgency of the situation demanded action, not philosophical musings. The path to victory seemed narrower than ever, and the weight of the future bore down on him with relentless pressure.
The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet as he made his way out, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The school held so many memories for him from the original, both good and bad, and now it seemed to stand as a silent witness to his struggles. He needed to find another way to secure the votes they needed, and quickly.
As he stepped out into the crisp night air, he took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. The stakes were too high to allow frustration and anger to cloud his judgment. He had allies, resources, and a vision for the future. He just needed to harness them effectively.
His conversation with Dumbledore played over in his mind. The old man's words were infuriatingly wise, and yet Sirius couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment. Tonight had revealed a gap between them that seemed wider than ever.
Perhaps it was for the best.
Once he took custody of Harry and left him in Remus' care, while technically under himself - Dumbledore would become, if not an enemy, an opponent at least.
The night was silent, save for the distant hoot of an owl. Sirius stood outside Hogwarts for a moment, gazing up at the stars. Each one represented a hope, a dream, a promise of a brighter future. And he was determined to make that future a reality.
Someone needed to change the magical world. And he was the only one with the proper motivation and means to do it.
With a final, resolute nod, he turned towards the gate and headed out. There was much work to be done, and the clock was ticking. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.
The election loomed closer with each passing day, and Sirius knew that every decision he made now would shape the outcome. He had the support of his family, the backing of Dumbledore's faction, even if it wasn't as fully as he'd wished, and he had the drive to see his vision through. Now, it was a matter of turning those assets into victory.
----------------------------------------
Same night, Staffordshire.
Burke the elder stepped out of the emerald flames, brushing soot from his robes as he arrived home. The familiar surroundings of his sitting room greeted him, and he began to relax, until he noticed the figure already seated, calm and composed, in his favorite armchair. Lucius Malfoy, with his distinctive platinum hair and cold, piercing eyes, held his cane with a casual air that belied the tension in the room.
"Good evening, Burke," Lucius said smoothly, his voice as cool as ice. "I trust your journey was uneventful."
Burke stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he took in the intruder. "Malfoy," He replied, his tone biting. "What is the meaning of this? How dare you enter my home uninvited?"
How did he enter? The wards… They're still up? Those filthy Goblins! Did they sell him out? How dare they!?
Lucius raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. "I have come to discuss a matter of some urgency. The upcoming election, to be precise. I believe it is in your best interest to lend your support to Sirius Black."
Burke's lip curled in disdain. "Support Dumbledore's pet? Spare me, Malfoy. I have no intention of pandering to your family's whims, nor his."
He'd never support anyone of Arcturus' spawn no matter the relation, whether they were light, dark or neutral, it didn't matter. He would not stand for a Black in the Minister's seat.
Lucius's expression remained unchanged, but a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. "Sirius Black is a Pureblood Lord, a far better choice than the likes of Fudge, who is nothing but a puppet for Bagnold. Your support would ensure the stability and continuity of our way of life." He counseled smoothly.
Burke knew Malfoy didn't care about anything but himself, so he was hardly convinced by such a limp argument. Besides, his vote alone wouldn't be enough, not that there was a point in arguing that, because it wouldn't happen.
Burke sneered darkly, his posture rigid with defiance. "I owe you nothing, Malfoy. I will not be coerced into supporting someone simply because you deem it advantageous."
Just because he somehow got into his ancestral home, did not make him lesser. He was the Lord, his power here was absolute. If Lucius tried something, he'd come to regret it quickly.
Lucius leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. "I do many things for my wife, as she does for me. Narcissa has a vested interest in her cousin's success, and she would be most displeased if he were to fall at this crucial point. You will vote as I suggest, Burke." The threat in his voice was unmistakable.
Burke's face contorted with anger, though a flicker of fear danced in his eyes. Why was Lucius so confident? How did he get in? "You dare threaten me in my own home? Do you know who you're dealing with, Malfoy?"
Lucius remained composed, his grip tightening on his cane. "I am fully aware, Burke. But it seems you do not understand the gravity of the situation. Narcissa's displeasure is not something to be taken lightly." He tilted his head, eyes coldly assessing him, "My darling wife has asked for something, I intend to give it to her."
Burke's fear transformed into fury, and he reached for his wand. "I will not be bullied by the likes of you. Get out of my house!" He snapped.
Lucius's eyes narrowed, and in an instant, his own wand was drawn, the tip gleaming ominously. "I suggest you reconsider your stance, Burke. This is not a negotiation."
What is he even doing? He can't overpower me in my own home? Burke thought, eyes flickering wildly to and fro, as he tried to understand where this confidence came from.
The air in the room grew thick with tension, the two wizards locked in a silent battle of wills. Burke's hand trembled slightly, the reality of his predicament sinking in. Lucius Malfoy was not a man to be trifled with, and the consequences of defying him were severe. He held the advantage due to his home, but Lucius' confidence was throwing him off, making him wonder.
"You think you can intimidate me?" Burke spat, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his fear. "I will not bow to you or your family."
Lucius's wand remained steady, his gaze unwavering. "This is not about bowing, Burke. This is about survival. The future of our world hangs in the balance, and your vote could tip the scales. Make the wise choice, or face the consequences."
Burke's bravado faltered, the weight of Lucius's words pressing down on him. He knew the Malfoys had considerable influence and resources, and crossing them would be a dangerous move. His defiance slowly crumbled, replaced by a reluctant acceptance of the reality before him.
"Very well," Burke muttered, lowering his wand. "I will cast my vote for Black. But know this, Malfoy - I do this not out of fear, but because it aligns with my interests. Do not think you have won."
Lucius inclined his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Of course, Burke. I am merely ensuring that our interests align. Your cooperation is appreciated."
With that, Lucius stood, smoothing his robes as he prepared to leave. He had accomplished what he had come for, and there was no need to linger, the thought was obvious to Burke as the man moved. As he walked past Burke, he paused briefly, his cold eyes locking onto Burke's once more.
Burke's hand clenched into a fist as he watched Lucius, a surge of defiance rising within him, why was he bending anyway? This was his home? "No, Malfoy. I won't be your puppet. I won't support Black." He said, having regained his courage.
His home. His rules.
Lucius stopped, turning slowly to face Burke again. His expression was unreadable, but a dangerous glint shone in his eyes. "I was hoping we could come to an understanding, Burke. Unfortunately, you've left me no choice."
Before Burke could react, Lucius raised his wand and uttered, "Imperio."
Burke's eyes widened in horror as the spell took hold, it should be impossible, why weren't his wards working! His will bent under the overpowering force of Lucius's command. His defiant stance crumbled, replaced by a vacant, compliant expression.
"You will vote for Sirius Black," Lucius commanded, his voice calm and authoritative. "And after the vote, you will take a vacation. Leave the British Isles and do not return, you will give your Lordship to your nephew, not your son, you will make that very clear in your will."
Burke nodded mechanically, his mind no longer his own. "I will vote for Sirius Black. I will take a vacation and not return, my nephew will be made Lord Burke, explicitly laid out in my will"
Lucius lowered his wand, a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Good. Now, go about your business as if nothing has happened. We wouldn't want anyone to suspect anything, would we?"
Burke, still under the spell, nodded obediently. Lucius watched him for a moment longer, ensuring that his commands had taken full effect, before turning and striding towards the fireplace. He tossed a handful of Floo powder into the flames, stepping into the green glow and disappearing from sight.
The room fell silent once more, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Burke stood there for a moment, his mind foggy and controlled, before slowly resuming his routine as if nothing had happened. The tension of the confrontation lingered in the air, a testament to the power struggle that had just taken place.
…
As Lucius emerged from the fireplace in his own manor, he allowed himself a small, triumphant smile. The pieces were falling into place, and the Malfoys would not be denied their influence. The election was far from decided, but with every move, they drew closer to securing their position.
The night was silent, the stars twinkling in the sky as if watching over the unfolding events. Lucius knew there were more challenges ahead, more obstacles to overcome, but he relished the fight. Power was not given; it was taken, and he was determined to seize it for his family.
For now, he would return to Narcissa, sharing the news of his success and plotting their next move. The election loomed ever closer, and with it, the future of the wizarding world. Lucius Malfoy was ready to shape that future, one spell, one vote at a time.
----------------------------------------
Morning after,
Sirius Black found himself standing before the austere, uninviting facade of Bartemius Crouch Sr's home. The house was a clear reflection of its owner - stern, utilitarian, and devoid of any warmth. The manicured lawns were perfect to a fault, the hedges trimmed with military precision, and the gravel path leading to the door was meticulously even. It was the kind of place that shouted order and discipline, leaving no room for frivolity or comfort.
How very apropos.
Sirius knocked, and after a moment, a house-elf opened the door, its demeanor as stiff as its master's. "Master Crouch is expecting you," It squeaked, leading Sirius through the cold, echoing hallways lined with portraits of severe-looking ancestors. The interior was just as unwelcoming as the exterior - barely decorated, with a color palette of grays and browns that seemed to suck the life out of the rooms.
Dear Merlin, this is depressing…
Bartemius Crouch Sr, awaited in his study, a room that could have doubled as a courtroom. It was filled with dark wood furniture, all meticulously polished and arranged. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with thick tomes on law and governance, their spines unbroken. Crouch himself sat behind a large mahogany desk, his back ramrod straight, and his face set in a permanent scowl. The atmosphere was suffocating, and Sirius felt a pang of regret for having to endure this meeting.
"Lord Black." Crouch greeted him with a curt nod, his voice as rigid as his demeanor. "Sit."
Sirius took the proffered chair, resisting the urge to make a flippant remark about the warmth of the welcome. Instead, he settled into the seat and waited for Crouch to speak.
He was an ally, of sorts, even if an expendable one (not that he knew that).
"I have to say, Lord Black," Crouch began, his eyes flashing with irritation, "You are throwing this election away on sentiments and dross. Do you realize how close you are to losing? A wife could have pushed you above the threshold, but you - "
Sirius raised a hand, cutting him off, not about to take this from him as well of all people. "I appreciate your concern, Barty, but marrying for political gain would leave me indebted to a family that could later demand their own benefits. Imagine if they wanted their own people in the Ministry, replacing you. Would you still agree to the marriage?" He said, finishing slightly mockingly.
Crouch's face contorted with anger, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of his chair. "That's preposterous! The stability of our governance should come first."
Sirius leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Crouch's. "Exactly. And what stability is there if I owe my position to another family's influence? Your career would be over if Bagnold and Fudge win. It would also be over if someone owns me as I win… Is that what you want?"
Crouch's scowl deepened, but he couldn't deny the logic in Sirius's words. "You make a fair point," He grumbled, his tone begrudgingly conceding. "However, it doesn't change the fact that your chances are slipping away."
"Which is precisely why I'm here," Sirius replied, his voice cool and controlled. "I need you to lean on some of the neutral families you have a good rapport with. We need their votes, and you're in a unique position to persuade the last of them."
Crouch sighed, the sound filled with exasperation. "And what do I get out of this? My career is at stake, as you pointed out, if I push them they'll ask me for favors."
Sirius allowed a small, calculating smile. "Ensure our victory, and your position is secure. Fail, and we both know what happens." He met his eyes, "Once we win, what favors you had to give won't matter…"
It won't matter because I have no intention of letting you remain in MY ministry for long. He thought.
Barty Crouch was as much of a part of the problem as other old traditionalists were. If he could force the man to give up some favors in his stead, then all was well. Because he himself wouldn't need to make them happen once Barty was out of the picture.
It wouldn't even be hard. Not with his son locked up here…
Crouch stared at Sirius for a long moment, weighing his options. "Very well," He said finally, his voice tight. "I will do what I can. But you had better deliver, Lord Black. My future is in your hands now." He did not look pleased about it.
But he'd come this far, Sirius knew he couldn't get off this ride at this point. He needed to go all in.
Sirius nodded, his expression sincere. "I understand, and I will not let you down."
Inwardly, Sirius felt a surge of disdain at even doing this play acting. He had no intention of keeping Crouch in power once he secured the election after all. The man was too rigid, too inflexible to support the kind of progressive changes Sirius intended to implement. But for now, he needed Crouch's influence, and so he played the part of the grateful ally.
Even if it made him want to puke in his mouth a little.
Crouch leaned back in his chair, the tension in his posture easing slightly. "I'll speak to a few key families, see if I can sway them. But remember, Lord Black, politics is a game of give and take. You will owe me for this." He said sternly.
"Of course," Sirius lied smoothly, hiding the flicker of annoyance that crossed his mind. "I understand how these things work."
The room fell into a strained silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. Sirius glanced around, taking in the austere surroundings once more. This was a man who lived and breathed order, whose entire existence was built around control and discipline. It was no wonder he was so infuriated by Sirius's more unconventional approach to politics.
And no wonder why Sirius could see no place for him in the new world order.
"I should be going," Sirius said, rising from his chair. "Thank you for your time, Crouch. I'll leave you to your work."
Crouch nodded curtly, already reaching for a stack of papers on his desk. "See yourself out."
As Sirius walked through the house, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at leaving the oppressive atmosphere behind. The meeting had been tense, but it had gone as well as he could have hoped. He had secured Crouch's begrudging support, and that was a step in the right direction.
With Crouch willing to barter favors and influence, it should tilt things in his favor. He'd set up the board the best he could.
It was time to see where it would take him…
----------------------------------------
The heavy oak door of 12 Grimmauld Place creaked open, and Sirius Black stepped inside, shrugging off his cloak and hanging it on the ancient, iron hook near the entrance. The house, despite his best efforts, still held a shadow of its former gloom. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and the faint tang of something.
Probably dark magic, at least it's last vestiges, as the house was transformed into something new, something better.
He made his way to the sitting room, where Remus was waiting. The room, with its dark paneling and heavy drapes, was illuminated by the warm glow of a fire crackling in the grate. The flickering light was comforting, and gave a nice sense of warmth to the room, giving the space an almost homey feel - so unlike how the place had been just a few months ago. Remus sat in one of the high-backed armchairs, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, a thoughtful expression on his lined face.
He'd started looking better, now that he'd had time with Harry, but old scars still healed slowly.
"Sirius," Remus greeted, his voice warm but tinged with the weariness that seemed to follow him like a shadow.
He still didn't agree with much of what Sirius did, but accepted it anyway, happy in the knowledge he could look after Harry if nothing else.
Once the election was won, he would look after him as more than a teacher too. Remus would get to help raise Harry, and for that, he would not move against Sirius no matter how much he disapproved of the darkness inherent in politics.
Sirius smiled, a genuine expression that seemed to brighten the room. After all the bullshite, it was honestly refreshing to just talk with Remus at this point. "Remus," He replied jovially, moving to the sideboard where a decanter of firewhisky awaited. He poured himself a generous measure and joined his old/new friend by the fire. The chair creaked under his weight as he settled into it, the familiarity of the moment bringing a sense of comfort.
His memories were a jumble at the best of times, but he did have fond memories of just sitting by the fire with friends.
For a moment, they sat in companionable silence, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the occasional clink of glass as they sipped their drinks. Outside, the wind howled, the British weather rattling even the magically enforced windows and adding to the sense of isolation that Grimmauld Place seemed to exude.
"I've been thinking, Remus," Sirius began, his voice breaking the silence. "About what happens next. Now that the election is almost over and once I get the Minister's seat."
Remus raised an eyebrow, his gaze steady. "You've certainly got your work cut out for you. Changing the Ministry is no small feat." He acknowledged, his expression sinking slightly at the topic.
Sirius nodded, swirling the firewhiskey in his glass. "That's true. But there are specific things I want to focus on, things that I think can make a real difference. One of them is the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
Not for Remus, not really.
He just thought it was all handled in the most retarded way possible.
Remus's expression turned wary, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. "What about it?"
Sirius leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I want to overhaul it. Make it something that actually helps magical creatures rather than just regulating and controlling them. And I was wondering if you might want to be involved."
Remus sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Sirius, you know how I feel about the Ministry. And besides, my priority is Harry. He needs someone to be there for him, to guide him. I can't split my focus like that." He sounded almost pleading.
Willing Sirius to understand, they'd had similar discussions before, Sirius gently prodding him, but now was not the time for gentleness.
Sirius nodded, understanding but undeterred. "I get that, Remus. I do. But hear me out. I'm not just talking about a regular Ministry job. I have a specific idea in mind, something that could make a real difference for werewolves and other marginalized magical beings."
He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to set up werewolf sanctuaries. Whole forests and villages where werewolves can live without fear of persecution, where they can work and contribute to magical society. Imagine it, Remus - fields and greenhouses where werewolves can grow magical plants, harvest ingredients for potions, and produce goods that benefit everyone."
It would allow them to not only make a living, but have a positive use for the wizarding world. It was easy to hate someone who was basically destitute and homeless as all werewolves were doomed to become in the magical world. It was a lot harder to hate people making plenty of galleons, and more importantly making you lots of galleons.
Not only plants, but magical animals could be harvested by the sturdy werewolves. Even the muggle werewolves that survived the change would be able to help.
Remus looked skeptical, but there was a glimmer of interest in his eyes. "And how exactly do you see this working?"
Sirius leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "We'd start by acquiring land in remote areas, places where the transformations wouldn't pose a risk to others. We'd build secure, comfortable housing and provide access to Wolfsbane Potion, so the transformations can be managed safely - with the profit we earn back in taxes it's manageable. The residents would work the land, growing magical plants and herbs that are in high demand. We'd sell these products to potion makers, apothecaries, and other magical businesses. The profits would go back into maintaining and expanding the sanctuaries, and the werewolves would earn a decent wage, gaining financial independence and security."
And they could ward such areas too… Keeping them safe, as well as making it so they couldn't leave around the full moon. Ensuring there would be no more "accidents.'
Remus's eyes widened slightly, a spark of hope flickering to life. "It sounds… idealistic. But you know as well as I do that prejudice runs deep. Do you really think you can change people's minds?"
Sirius's gaze was unwavering. "I know it won't be easy. But I believe it can be done. If we show the magical community that werewolves can contribute positively, that they can be an asset rather than a threat, we can start to break down those barriers. And it's not just about werewolves. The sanctuaries could be a model for integrating other magical beings who are marginalized - centaurs, goblins, even house-elves who want to be free."
Although he seriously doubted the last one would ever happen. And the Goblins were little shits too, so fuck that being likely for them to accept. They had their caves, and tunnels, he'd be unlikely to win them over.
But it was worth a try, eventually.
He needed a success story before he touched any of that. And werewolves would be easy. Because most of them were actually harmless the rest of the time.
And it would make it easier to hunt down the actual offenders.
Remus was silent for a long moment, his expression pensive. He took a sip of his drink, staring into the fire as if seeking answers in the dancing flames. "It's a noble idea, Sirius. But why me? Why do you want me to be involved?"
Sirius smiled, a warm, genuine expression that softened his features. "Because I trust you, Remus. Because you understand what it's like to live on the fringes of society, to be judged for something you can't control. And because I know you care. You care about making a difference, about helping others. You'd be perfect for this."
I don't trust you one hundred percent… Not yet. He thought, having white lied a little. But he trusted him enough.
Remus looked down at his glass, his fingers tracing the rim. "I don't know, Sirius. It sounds like a lot of responsibility. And like I said, Harry - "
"I know," Sirius interrupted gently. "And I'm not asking you to abandon Harry. This is something we can build over time. You can be as involved as you want, as much as your time with Harry allows. But having your support, your guidance, would mean a lot. Not just to me, but to everyone this project could help."
The room fell silent again, the weight of Sirius's words hanging in the air. Remus's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The idea of a sanctuary, a safe haven for werewolves, was something he had never dared to dream of. It was almost too good to be true.
"Sirius," Remus began slowly, choosing his words with care, "I don't want to give you false hope. The prejudice, the fear - it runs so deep. I've seen it my whole life. Even with the best intentions, changing that won't happen overnight."
Sirius nodded, his expression serious. "I know. But we have to start somewhere. And I can't think of anyone better to help me start than you."
Remus took another sip of his firewhisky, the warmth of the liquid spreading through him, loosening the tight knot of anxiety in his chest. "Alright," he said finally, his voice steady. "I'll help. But my main focus will be Harry. I want to make sure he has the support and guidance he needs. If I can balance that with helping you, then I'll do what I can."
Sirius's face lit up with a smile, a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Remus. That's all I can ask. Together, we can make a real difference. For Harry, and for so many others."
He'd be using Harry's name like that often in the future. Just like he'd used the Lily Potter foundation, like he'd use Remus to gather the werewolves. It was all altruism…
But if he managed to fix things, make the world a better place, did it really matter if he was faking some of the emotions on the way?
The fire crackled and popped, filling the room with its warmth and light. The two old/new friends sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.
As the evening wore on, Sirius began to outline more of his plans, his vision for the werewolf sanctuaries becoming clearer with each word. "We'd need to start by identifying suitable locations," He said, his eyes bright with pleasure of a plan coming together. "Places that are remote enough to ensure safety during full moons, but also accessible enough to allow for trade and interaction with the broader magical community."
Remus nodded, his interest piqued despite himself. "And what about funding? Setting up something like this won't be cheap."
Sirius's smile widened. "That's where being Minister comes in handy. I plan to redirect some of the Ministry's budget towards this project. And we'll seek donations from private benefactors, businesses, and anyone who believes in what we're trying to do. I think there are enough people out there who want to see change, who would be willing to support something like this."
He knew he could get Albus onboard, as distasteful as it was to continue to lean on him. The man himself wasn't wealthy, but he had many friends who were. Flamel would be one…
Although that was likely wishful thinking.
"And the residents?" Remus asked. "How do you plan to recruit werewolves to live and work in these sanctuaries?"
"Word of mouth, at first," Sirius replied. "We'll reach out through the werewolf network through you, let people know there's a safe place for them. We'll offer security, decent pay, and most importantly, respect. Once we have a few success stories, I think more will come."
Once things got going, a sanctuary capable of producing magical reagents consistently would only be a boon to the magical community and his tax coffers.
It would pay back all the flack he'd face for the first few months of the program. He'd have to spin it differently to each group. A way to gather all the werewolves in one place for quick elimination in case of issues - would probably be how he'd have to lay it out to the dark faction.
Remus leaned back in his chair, contemplating the enormity of the task ahead. "It's ambitious, Sirius. But if anyone can pull it off, it's you."
Sirius chuckled, a hint of his old mischief returning. "I'll take that as a compliment. But it's going to take all of us, Remus. You, me, and everyone who believes in this cause."
They continued to talk long into the night, the fire burning low as they discussed the logistics, the challenges, and the potential rewards of the werewolf sanctuaries.
By the time they finally called it a night, the first light of dawn was creeping through the heavy drapes. Sirius felt a sense of satisfaction, a feeling that they were on the verge of something truly transformative.
The werewolf sanctuary would be his first step to showing everyone the world could be changed.
And his first proof of concept.
Showing that he could navigate the Wizengamot and the Ministry and get it passed.
Success bred more success.
And wizards and witches more than any breed of creature were drawn to people who succeeded at the impossible.
He would make it happen!
He only needed to win first…
----------------------------------------
The ancient, ornate chamber of the Wizengamot was filled with an air of anticipation and tension as its members assembled for the pivotal vote. The walls, lined with dark, polished wood were specifically adorned with tapestries depicting significant moments in magical history for this occasion only, the room seemed to pulse with the energy of the countless debates and decisions made within these halls.
The election wasn't for another week. But here, today. Here was when the Minister was truly elected.
The popular vote was a formality, a show for the masses. Although it was unusual for the two to be completely separate, as there usually wasn't such a sharp divide between the two as there was this time.
Sirius stood at the edge of the chamber, his gaze sweeping over the gathered members. Each witch and wizard present was robed in deep purple, their silver insignias glinting in the torchlight. The room was arranged in a semi-circular fashion, with tiers of seats rising from the central floor, where the presiding officer stood ready to oversee the proceedings. This wasn't the main Wizengamot chambers, this was one specifically used for things like this.
Tiberius Ogden was the one who held the role to administer the vote today. It was ceremonial, so having one of Albus' allies as the master of ceremonies wouldn't give him any benefits. But he chose to see it as a good portent
Sirius's heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and determination. The weight of the Black family legacy, the hopes of his supporters, and the ambitions he harbored for the future all pressed heavily upon him. This was the moment that would decide his fate, the culmination of months of intense campaigning, strategic maneuvering, and relentless effort.
If it all fell apart here, just at the cusp of things. He wasn't sure what he'd do. But it wouldn't be pretty.
He'd ingested his all into this, and he wasn't sure he had anything else to live for if he didn't succeed.
His family were… Not enough. He only felt anything at all for a few of them, even Remus was only now starting to become an actual friend. He didn't have enough connections to hold himself steady if this failed. His ambitions were everything.
The murmurs of conversation hushed as Ogden raised his wand hand, calling the assembly to order. His calm, authoritative presence filled the room, commanding respect from even the most rowdy of the Wizengamot members. "Today, we gather to cast our votes for the next Minister of Magic," He announced, his voice resonating with a measured gravity. "The candidates are Cornelius Fudge and Lord Sirius Black. May we conduct ourselves with the decorum and integrity befitting this esteemed body." He stated solemnly.
As Ogdens words echoed through the chamber, Sirius felt a surge of resolve. He had faced countless challenges to reach this point, and now he stood on the brink of achieving his goal. He took a deep breath, his eyes flickering to the rows of seated members, each one holding the power to sway the outcome.
He'd done almost everything he could. He had fought hard to overcome the general idiocy of purebloods, and he'd reached this goal without having to give away countless favors and bribes that would invalidate his entire tenure.
He just hoped it was enough in the end.
The voting process began, each member stepping forward to cast their vote in a magically sealed urn, sliding their wand inside, completely theatrical, it served no other purpose than to turn red for one candidate ( Fudge) or Blue for the other (Him), well that and confirming the caster is who they said they are. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable sense of suspense, every movement scrutinized, every expression analyzed. Sirius watched intently, his mind racing with thoughts of who might support him and who might not.
He cast his own vote quick enough, the magical world not having any issues with a candidate voting for themselves. One advantage he had over Fudge, as he held no vote.
As the urn began to glow with blue lights, Sirius's thoughts drifted to the alliances he had forged, the promises he had made, and the strategies he had employed. He couldn't help but worry about the undecided votes, the neutrals who had held their positions close to their chests, their intentions inscrutable. His gaze shifted to Isabella Zabini, seated among the neutrals, her expression enigmatic. She had the power to sway the vote, and her decision could make or break his chances.
He still didn't know what way she'd lean in the end. And it bothered him.
Minutes felt like hours as the voting continued, each member's step echoing in the silence. Sirius's mind raced with a mix of hope and dread. He thought of Narcissa's words, the arguments and discussions that had led to this point, and the pressure he had faced from his family. He couldn't afford to fail, not now, not after everything.
Finally, they came towards the end, everyone having kept close count, the Urn shining with the amount of blue and red lights it held. The chamber was silent, the tension almost unbearable. Sirius's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Tiberius Ogden carefully examine each vote, his expression unreadable.
He knew the count himself already. So did everyone else. They all stated at the urn, in consternation. All but one person.
Ogden's voice rang out, clear and steady, as he announced, "Sirius Black leads Cornelius Fudge by one vote, there is one votee still missing…"
A collective gasp rippled through the chamber. The result sent shockwaves through the assembled members as they all knew who was left, their whispers and murmurs growing louder. Sirius felt a cold knot of fear settle in his stomach. One vote in the lead in this case meant uncertainty, and uncertainty was dangerous.
Because the last vote… The last vote held more than one house. Had more than one vote. Whichever candidate received the vote… Would win.
Ogden raised his hand again, calling for silence. "There is one vote remaining," He announced, his gaze sweeping over the assembly. "Lady Zabini."
Sirius's eyes locked onto Isabella as she rose from her seat, her movements graceful and deliberate. She held the final vote, the power to decide the outcome, and the weight of that responsibility was evident in her demeanor. She moved to the center of the chamber, all eyes on her, and paused, her gaze meeting Sirius's.
At that moment, time seemed to stretch, the air heavy with anticipation. Sirius's heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts a whirlwind of hope and fear. Isabella held his fate in her hands, and he could only wait, his breath caught in his throat, for her decision.
He'd refused her advances, gone so far as to practically beg for her help, but refusing her only conditions.
Had it been enough? Did she want to punish him for his temerity to turn her down?
His life, his ambitions, the magical world's future. It all hung on this one moment.
On the choice of the Black Widow.
Isabella's lips curved into a coy smile, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. She held Sirius's gaze for a heartbeat longer, then turned to Ogden, her voice clear and unwavering as she put her wand in the urn. "I cast my vote for Sirius Black!"
A collective exhale swept through the chamber, the tension breaking like a wave. Sirius felt a rush of elation, his heart soaring with relief and triumph. He had done it.
He was the new Minister of Magic.
Dumbledore was the first to stand up and clap, breaking decorum, but no one seems willing to challenge it, the chambers erupting in applause as his allies went wild, and his enemies and detractors politely applauded, already no doubt sharpening their knives for a good fit for his back.
The look on Bagnold's face though, the sheer shock and fear, was enough to bring joy to his heart. Take that you absolutely twat!
The sound of applause reverberated off the walls. Sirius stood tall, his eyes shining with pride and determination. He had achieved his goal, and now, the real work would begin. The future of the magical world was in his hands, and he was ready to shape it, one step at a time.
His eyes met Isabella's.
The smug look on her told him enough, not that he didn't already know it.
You owe me.
----------------------------------------