Picking up the Pieces
Jul. 29th, 2007 09:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlyswotThis is for rhetoretician who correctly predicted that Neville's wand wouldn't turn out to be a Horcrux. He requested Kingsley's first day in office. I would never have chosen to write about this subject but I'm actually quite glad to have done so. Spoilers, obviously.
He didn’t know who had first shouted it out. Nor quite how it had been so quickly acknowledged. He remembered the moment when Arthur Weasley had caught his eye and nodded meaningfully. Kingsley had responded in kind and raised his hand to quiet the crowd. He had no idea what he had said but in the wild euphoria of victory it hadn’t mattered. Those who were left only wanted someone to look to; they needed a Minister whom they could trust, and it seemed they had elected him.
Things looked different today. Now that Voldemort – Kingsley took savage pleasure in spitting the name aloud – was gone, finally and forever, there was more to do than merely survive. There was a world to rebuild out of the broken mess left behind after the battle. And somehow it had become his job to work out how to start.
He’d arrived ridiculously early without any clear sense of what he was going to do. Flushing himself in, Kingsley made a mental note to put finding a replacement entry system near the top of his to do list. He brushed his robes down and walked out into the centre of the dimly lit Atrium, forcing himself to turn and confront the grotesque monstrosity that dominated the room.
The witch and wizard who sat enthroned high above Kingsley’s head were motionless this morning. The woman’s hair looked limp and dull and Kingsley could just make out lines of worry creased into her granite forehead. She lay wearily against the high chairback and held her wand feebly in her lap. Her partner appeared to be sleeping, his own wand resting along the arm of the chair. As Kingsley watched, one black eyelid opened slowly. He met the stony gaze boldly until the carved wizard gave a slight shrug and closed his eyes, slumping further down into his seat.
That seat. Kingsley didn’t know who had made it nor how they had been… persuaded… to do so. The thought of craftsmen meticulously forming each squashed limb, each blank face and each twisted torso revolted him. He breathed deeply, calming the rush of nausea that had threatened to overwhelm. Had they made each body separately, he wondered, and crushed them together into the inhuman form they now took?
It was too much. All the pent up fury of the last year and the grief of the last thirty-six hours spilled over into action. Kingsley rushed towards the massive granite block, beating his fists against the hateful words carved into its base. For a moment he revelled in the pain, glad to be able to feel, to know that it made him human. Then sense reasserted itself and he drew out his wand, unleashing spell after spell and curse after curse at the abomination.
The magical statue held firm at first. Kingsley redoubled his efforts, channeling his rage through his wand. At last, small chippings started to fly from the corners. He began to work more steadily now, focussing on the points of weakness, piling his efforts into the tiny cracks that were starting to form.
He had no idea how long he had been working when he stepped back, craning his neck as he urgently aimed his wand high, desperate to pull down the domineering figures who embodied the ugly vision of the magical supremacists. Before he could utter his spell, he heard a loud crack and saw the wizard’s head tumbling to the ground where it smashed into tiny pieces. Kingsley looked round in surprise to find a number of witches and wizards were standing around him. More were coming to join them, drawing their wands with an expression of fierce determination as they blasted the graven image they had been obliged to walk past every working day for the last year.
Under the growing volley of spells, the statue was breaking faster. The thrones were beginning to crack and hideous pieces of stone flesh were falling to the ground. Kingsley could see a fissure starting in the centre of the great plinth.
With a voice growing hoarse, he yelled ‘Reducto!’
An almighty noise like a thunderbolt reverberated around the Atrium. Someone was pulling Kingsley back. Then there was dust and stone and he couldn’t breathe for a moment.
‘Sir? Sir, are you all right?’ Kingsley blinked his eyes open. An impressively square-shouldered man with teal blue eyes was looking down at him anxiously.
‘Give me a hand.’ The man helped him to his feet, his eyes darting about in mingled shock and awe.
Kingsley turned back to where the statue had once stood, looking with relief at the sea of black rubble which now filled the huge space.
His rescuer was still standing beside him. Kingsley looked at the man curiously. ‘What do you normally do here?’
‘I’m a lawyer,’ the man told him. ‘I used to be in the International Magical Office of Law before…’ His voice trailed off.
Kingsley nodded and made a swift decision. ‘Good. I shall need your help. Come to my office when you’re ready.’ He glanced around, finding the Atrium now filled with Ministry staff, waiting in awed silence for something. This was it, then.
The Minister for Magic climbed up onto a convenient lump of granite and looked out across the room. Wizards and witches looked up to him, needing to be told what was next.
His voice was shaking as he began. ‘Yesterday the victory we have all been longing for was won. Today there are many in the Wizarding world, including no doubt some of you are here now, who need do no more than grieve for their lost heroes and be grateful for those who were spared.’ In the back, Kingsley spotted a clump of red and swallowed hard. Arthur and Percy. ‘But I must ask all of you here in the Ministry to join me in a further task. Already in this act,’ he gestured to the remnants of the statue, ‘we have begun the work of restoring those most precious things that have been stolen from us.
‘Our task will be to build trust where there has been only fear and suspicion; to restore freedom to those who have been oppressed; to renew hope where the future has seemed dark. I cannot achieve these things alone any more than I could have destroyed this statue alone. I call on each of you here now, to work with me to rebuild a better world for us and for our children for generations to come.’ The confidence that had been building as he spoke ended with a resounding cry, answered by the loud cheers of his audience.
Kingsley jumped down from his makeshift podium and bent to grasp a small chunk of rubble, slipping it into the pocket of his robes. He thought he might need to remember, not the evil which had constructed the loathsome monument, but the united strength that had brought it down.
Author's note: I originally thought I might try and do something funny - a press conference with Rita Skeeter and Lee Jordan, or Kingsley explaining to Tony Blair what was going on. But the more I thought about, the more I realised I had no idea what that first day would be like, and nor would anyone else, including Kingsley. And then I remembered that statue. When I read DH that was the moment at which I was almost sick. It reminded me so vividly of the stories of the Nazis making lampshades out of human skin. I knew then that I needed to write the story of it being destroyed, in a Berlin Wall type scenario. Hence this.
And now back to your regularly scheduled fluff and crumpet.
rhetoretician who correctly predicted that Neville's wand wouldn't turn out to be a Horcrux. He requested Kingsley's first day in office. I would never have chosen to write about this subject but I'm actually quite glad to have done so. Spoilers, obviously.He didn’t know who had first shouted it out. Nor quite how it had been so quickly acknowledged. He remembered the moment when Arthur Weasley had caught his eye and nodded meaningfully. Kingsley had responded in kind and raised his hand to quiet the crowd. He had no idea what he had said but in the wild euphoria of victory it hadn’t mattered. Those who were left only wanted someone to look to; they needed a Minister whom they could trust, and it seemed they had elected him.
Things looked different today. Now that Voldemort – Kingsley took savage pleasure in spitting the name aloud – was gone, finally and forever, there was more to do than merely survive. There was a world to rebuild out of the broken mess left behind after the battle. And somehow it had become his job to work out how to start.
He’d arrived ridiculously early without any clear sense of what he was going to do. Flushing himself in, Kingsley made a mental note to put finding a replacement entry system near the top of his to do list. He brushed his robes down and walked out into the centre of the dimly lit Atrium, forcing himself to turn and confront the grotesque monstrosity that dominated the room.
The witch and wizard who sat enthroned high above Kingsley’s head were motionless this morning. The woman’s hair looked limp and dull and Kingsley could just make out lines of worry creased into her granite forehead. She lay wearily against the high chairback and held her wand feebly in her lap. Her partner appeared to be sleeping, his own wand resting along the arm of the chair. As Kingsley watched, one black eyelid opened slowly. He met the stony gaze boldly until the carved wizard gave a slight shrug and closed his eyes, slumping further down into his seat.
That seat. Kingsley didn’t know who had made it nor how they had been… persuaded… to do so. The thought of craftsmen meticulously forming each squashed limb, each blank face and each twisted torso revolted him. He breathed deeply, calming the rush of nausea that had threatened to overwhelm. Had they made each body separately, he wondered, and crushed them together into the inhuman form they now took?
It was too much. All the pent up fury of the last year and the grief of the last thirty-six hours spilled over into action. Kingsley rushed towards the massive granite block, beating his fists against the hateful words carved into its base. For a moment he revelled in the pain, glad to be able to feel, to know that it made him human. Then sense reasserted itself and he drew out his wand, unleashing spell after spell and curse after curse at the abomination.
The magical statue held firm at first. Kingsley redoubled his efforts, channeling his rage through his wand. At last, small chippings started to fly from the corners. He began to work more steadily now, focussing on the points of weakness, piling his efforts into the tiny cracks that were starting to form.
He had no idea how long he had been working when he stepped back, craning his neck as he urgently aimed his wand high, desperate to pull down the domineering figures who embodied the ugly vision of the magical supremacists. Before he could utter his spell, he heard a loud crack and saw the wizard’s head tumbling to the ground where it smashed into tiny pieces. Kingsley looked round in surprise to find a number of witches and wizards were standing around him. More were coming to join them, drawing their wands with an expression of fierce determination as they blasted the graven image they had been obliged to walk past every working day for the last year.
Under the growing volley of spells, the statue was breaking faster. The thrones were beginning to crack and hideous pieces of stone flesh were falling to the ground. Kingsley could see a fissure starting in the centre of the great plinth.
With a voice growing hoarse, he yelled ‘Reducto!’
An almighty noise like a thunderbolt reverberated around the Atrium. Someone was pulling Kingsley back. Then there was dust and stone and he couldn’t breathe for a moment.
‘Sir? Sir, are you all right?’ Kingsley blinked his eyes open. An impressively square-shouldered man with teal blue eyes was looking down at him anxiously.
‘Give me a hand.’ The man helped him to his feet, his eyes darting about in mingled shock and awe.
Kingsley turned back to where the statue had once stood, looking with relief at the sea of black rubble which now filled the huge space.
His rescuer was still standing beside him. Kingsley looked at the man curiously. ‘What do you normally do here?’
‘I’m a lawyer,’ the man told him. ‘I used to be in the International Magical Office of Law before…’ His voice trailed off.
Kingsley nodded and made a swift decision. ‘Good. I shall need your help. Come to my office when you’re ready.’ He glanced around, finding the Atrium now filled with Ministry staff, waiting in awed silence for something. This was it, then.
The Minister for Magic climbed up onto a convenient lump of granite and looked out across the room. Wizards and witches looked up to him, needing to be told what was next.
His voice was shaking as he began. ‘Yesterday the victory we have all been longing for was won. Today there are many in the Wizarding world, including no doubt some of you are here now, who need do no more than grieve for their lost heroes and be grateful for those who were spared.’ In the back, Kingsley spotted a clump of red and swallowed hard. Arthur and Percy. ‘But I must ask all of you here in the Ministry to join me in a further task. Already in this act,’ he gestured to the remnants of the statue, ‘we have begun the work of restoring those most precious things that have been stolen from us.
‘Our task will be to build trust where there has been only fear and suspicion; to restore freedom to those who have been oppressed; to renew hope where the future has seemed dark. I cannot achieve these things alone any more than I could have destroyed this statue alone. I call on each of you here now, to work with me to rebuild a better world for us and for our children for generations to come.’ The confidence that had been building as he spoke ended with a resounding cry, answered by the loud cheers of his audience.
Kingsley jumped down from his makeshift podium and bent to grasp a small chunk of rubble, slipping it into the pocket of his robes. He thought he might need to remember, not the evil which had constructed the loathsome monument, but the united strength that had brought it down.
Author's note: I originally thought I might try and do something funny - a press conference with Rita Skeeter and Lee Jordan, or Kingsley explaining to Tony Blair what was going on. But the more I thought about, the more I realised I had no idea what that first day would be like, and nor would anyone else, including Kingsley. And then I remembered that statue. When I read DH that was the moment at which I was almost sick. It reminded me so vividly of the stories of the Nazis making lampshades out of human skin. I knew then that I needed to write the story of it being destroyed, in a Berlin Wall type scenario. Hence this.
And now back to your regularly scheduled fluff and crumpet.
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 05:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 11:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 06:16 am (UTC)First, I like his bemusement at how he became Minister to begin with, not fully knowing how it happened and accepting it only when his friend encourages him. This echoes KingsCross-Dumbledore's observation that only those who do not seek power are really suited to wield it.
Second, I like that he has maintained a strong sense of who he is, and has not been "transformed" by the role he must now play. We can see this, first, in his Order sensibilities (he says LV's name aloud at the first opportunity) and second, in the fact that he starts out demolishing the statue himself, rather than asking someone else to do it for him. Now that last is complicated, because I don't think it started out as an "official" act ("Now the Minister is going to make a Symbolic Gesture") but rather a spontaneous one arising out of his own sense of right and wrong.
Then, of course, it turns out that he’s leading after all. This spontaneous act made him more of an eloquent spokesman for his people than any speech could do. Without meaning to he has defined the beginning of his administration. Just marvelous.
And thanks for the cameo. Hermione’s gonna be my protégé, eh? That’s very sweet of you. I am so glad I won this bet.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 12:02 pm (UTC)I was a little surprised that Kingsley became MoM because, as you say, he's an Order member and an Auror - not a politician! I think it will take him a while to learn the difference but maybe just at the beginning, that's not such a bad thing. I would guess that being a Ministry official was almost the hardest thing - having to change sides, to keep one's mouth shut, not knowing who you could trust. And I'd be surprised if many of them were at the Battle of Hogwarts, so I felt they'd need a public demonstration of the new order. And Kingsley, as the Minister, needs to be the one leading it.
The cameo was a bit of an accident. I was going to write the whole thing from the POV of a lowly Ministry lawyer who didn't know what was going on, stumbling across Kingsley in the act of demolishing the statue and who then became a small hero. But when I switched to Kingsley's POV there was obviously much less of a role for him. And then it seemed weird introducing an OC in a story this length. And then I thought of you...
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 07:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 12:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 07:47 am (UTC)Flushing himself in, Kingsley made a mental note to put finding a replacement entry system near the top of his to do list.
I loved that line. It gave us a moment of light relief that contrasted so well with the serious matter of the story (and acted as a bridge between his doubts and his positive actions).
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 12:04 pm (UTC)I liked that like about the toilets too. Such a horrible way of keeping morale down and making people feel subhuman.
Thanks for sharing this...
Date: 2007-07-30 09:35 am (UTC)Re: Thanks for sharing this...
Date: 2007-07-30 12:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 10:44 am (UTC)PS - did you hear StMags said she would bring Ron the Builder to the next party (I think she could be ready to be shipped lol)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 12:05 pm (UTC)I did hear that. Shipping St M is not, however, a task to be undertaken lightly or without due care and preparation. *starts scheming*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 01:54 pm (UTC)And who's the next party victim? (Or birthday gal or guy?) And when?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 04:55 pm (UTC)I don't know when anyone's birthday is coming up soon. Maybe we need to manufacture an occasion?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 01:02 pm (UTC)Okay, I do have an idea why.
The frustration at the senseless death and the hate that the statue portrayed seemed to be coming out of kingsley's pores...it literally leapt off the page.
Well done, Ros.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 04:56 pm (UTC)*hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 06:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 07:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 10:54 pm (UTC)It reminded me of the bit where DD tells Harry that in choosing him, Voldemort handed him a unique weapon, that all oppressors fear those below them.
It carries a lot of impact and I certainly vote that you post it to SQ when Madam Pince returns!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-31 01:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-31 12:42 am (UTC)I agree - you should submit this to the Quill (and Phoenix Song). It's a wonderfully healing story.
After the fountain of Magical Brethren was destroyed in OotP, I had my OC, Holly Kirke, design a new one. She's Lee Jordan's love interest in Lee Jordan, Tour Guide.
Maybe Kingsley will like it for a replacement:
lly,” Angelina interrupted. “What was your idea? What does the fountain look like?”
“Oh,” Holly said, looking bashful. “I left my portfolio at St. Mungo’s with the drawings.”
“Just tell us,” Angelina demanded.
“Well.” Holly went to the table, still in her cloak, and conjured a piece of parchment and a quill. “It’s going to be a very large cauldron,” she said, sketching the outline of a fat, black cauldron. “The water will bubble up steadily so that it flows gently over the sides,” she continued. “That’s the fountain part.”
Angelina moved from the settee and stood behind her, frowning skeptically at the drawing.
Holly glanced over her shoulder at Angelina. “The magical brethren part is when you walk up to the cauldron and look inside,” Holly continued. “The water will be still so the viewer will see his or her face first.”
“Perfect for a narcissist,” Lee said, standing next to Angelina.
Holly rolled her eyes at him. “And then the water will move and the viewer will see the face of a goblin or a centaur or any of the other magical brethren. The faces will be done in mosaic on the bottom of the cauldron.” She shrugged. “It’s sort of an interactive thing and it doesn’t raise one magical species over the other.”
“Not just a pretty face is she?” Lee said to Angelina.
“Lee,” Angelina scolded. “Don’t embarrass Holly with your extravagant compliments. Of course we all know how talented Holly is. And she obviously deserved to win this contest.”
Lee didn’t think his compliment was extravagant at all – just the truth. But Holly was blushing and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “I’ll give Holly a ‘Stacy compliment’ then.” He grinned. “Ach, I’m not surprised Holly drew a cauldron,” he said, imitating her grandmother. “Holly was always drawing cauldrons. They’re easy to draw, ye kin?”
Holly laughed, balled up the paper and threw it at him. Angelina frowned. “When did you meet Mrs. Kirke?”
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-31 01:54 am (UTC)You know, I remembered that scene from Tour Guide when I was writing this, though I didn't go back to look and see what Holly's statue was. I'm sure when Kingsley holds the competition her entry will win!!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-31 11:27 am (UTC)I loved the destruction of the "statue" - the description in the book made me feel ill, too- even on the second read, when I knew what was coming - and I'm glad to have the image of them all systematically destroying it.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-31 11:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 01:54 am (UTC)Very good!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 02:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 02:26 am (UTC)This is an amazingly powerful story. Wow.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 02:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 06:45 am (UTC)What a cool moment to pick, nice job.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 12:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 06:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 06:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-11 10:44 pm (UTC)I was very happy he survived the series, but, frankly, I never expected him to be made MoM - it was just the icing on the cake.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-12 03:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-31 01:06 am (UTC)I remember thinking along the same lines when I read about this statue, and I think it was a stroke of genius to make this the focus of Kingsley's first day. It really defines him, and what his role is now, and how the ministry of the future is to be.
Well done!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-31 08:53 pm (UTC)