Chapter 30.4- Doom Days

Where had I been standing when the first attack came? How did I stop the knife holder? Did I know she was a muggle most likely under the imperius? Did I know that my actions were only a step below Muggle baiting— using a muggle as some sort of human shield to bar magical attacks. What spell had I used on the boy before he exploded? Did I know it would happen? Where was Granger? A million and one questions had kept me in his custody until the day was well close to ending, and then I’d just returned to even more stress, trying to figure out what to do about the situation.

—

“Snape is getting released” Sirius snapped from his position on the chair in the drawing room as he read the latest letter from Fudge. Hogwarts’ resumption had been delayed for the first time in Centuries, the only other time something like this had happened being when someone stole the carriages which had initially served as the means for getting to and from the school for most wizarding families. It was massive egg in the face, and no one was willing to take custody of the dropped ball. The politicians were probably hesitating to take advantage of the situation because it was still unclear whose faction was going to take the W, and so most of them were waiting to take sides and pick who to blame.

There was that, and then there was also the fact that picking up the dropped ball could spur accusations of having dropped it in the first place in a matter of days, and that meant that there was even more reason for them to remain focused on keeping the entire situation as far from them as possible. Early scapegoats were already beginning to show. Amelia Bones, a woman who would be tipped for the top job in another life, was being practically obliterated in the media. Scrimgeor, snake of the house, did not waste time to begin making calls for her to resign and relinquish headship as she had ‘clearly lost her touch and has unfortunately become incapable of upholding and fulfilling the delicate mandate conferred upon her by the people of Wizarding Britain’. His op-ed had contained even more gems than that one.

He stated she was incapable of producing a corporeal patronus after her parents passed, and considering she had already become an auror at that point, there was no need for anyone to check. He claimed it as proof that she was mentally compromised and therefore unsuited for her position. Scrimgeor had basically broken every rule of police that I had ever come into contact with in my first life— never criticise the boss. Even worse, he had done it for personal gain. If this world was anything like mine, then Scrimgeor would be unlikely to enjoy the fruits of this labour of his. He’d either get bounced from the Aurors itself, or bumped down to the point where he’d be delivering coffee for a long while. It was not just a rule the young doctors appreciated, but something that the older ones enforced with all the authority and power of their positions.

Either way, what was done was done and then