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http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5783428/5/Tonks turned to Harry, her conclusion clear. If The Boy-Who-Lived took a stand, he could be that leader.
"Magical Britain can go fuck itself as far as I'm concerned," Harry drawled.
Hermione didn't look up, merely curled a bit closer to her husband. Sirius was stone faced while Remus merely nodded his concurrence. None of them had any reason to love their country aside from jingoistic pride. All of them had lost much from the worst excesses of their motherland.
Sirius had lost a third of his life to the Dementors. After his brother in all but blood had been slaughtered due to a betrayal by another he'd trusted; he'd been betrayed again. By his country. The betrayal had been life altering and nearly life ending.
Remus lost any possibility of acceptance by everyday Britons when, as a six year old boy, he'd been bitten by Fenrir Greyback. He was the most decent man that most would ever know, yet housewives had stoned him on four occasions. He'd been beaten bloody three times. The last time he'd awoken covered in piss. It was a testament to his humanity that he wasn't feral.
Hermione was a muggleborn witch who, due to her lineage, would never hold any gainful employment at any established firm, much less the Ministry. She'd been shunned by many even before the walls came down on the world. Afterwards, she'd been forgotten by the rest. In the end, her life had ended in a shitty grocer's, a tin of beans in her hand. No one besides her husband and parents had cared. She was one of many.
Harry had lost his entire life twice over. The first time had been when he'd been placed in the agony of torment that was his relatives' home and forgotten by all who should have looked out for him. The second time had been when his country disavowed his many sacrifices and heroics in order to turn their back on him. They allowed their eventual destroyer time to manifest the power necessary to seal their doom. Voldemort had annihilated the world as they knew it. Yet most everyday magical Britons didn't want to be inconvenienced. They didn't want to believe that their downfall was nigh. They wouldn't believe the one who'd bled, killed and suffered for them.
The others all knew Minerva's story, but they would respect her silence and allow her to tell it to the newest member of the family when she felt it was time. She caught Tonks' anguished gaze as she told her the Truth.
"You'll try to reveal what should remain hidden, you'll try to incite people to learn from the past and rebel, but they will refuse to believe you. They will not listen to you…You'll possess the truth, you already do; but it's the truth of a madman," Minerva's passion was palpable as she railed against society and its adherence to custom. As a whole, all societies' behaviour was reprehensible, only striving against the norm in times of great strife, because of great necessity. Society never changed because it ought to, it only changed when it hurt too badly.
Tonks hung her head, admitting defeat. Nodding she conceded with, "You're right."
"I wish I wasn't," Minerva whispered.
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