CHAPTER 26 – DARK CHOCOLATE WILL HEAL YOUR SOUL
As we headed off to Harry's office, I wasn't sure whether we would be steadying Madam Bones or she would be steadying us. "I'll miss my old portrait," Professor Celine lamented. "It has a lot of sentimental value. It was my gift to Professor McGonagall to thank her for all she had done to help me succeed at Hogwarts and carve out a special niche for myself. It's painful to think of it being sliced up and flushed. Beyond that, it was one of the last paintings I did with a brush. If it was a Witch Painting, I'd just wrack my brain until I had it well visualized and pop out a replacement. It also goes back to the regrettable time when I was just starting out in the Muggle world and the group that I was hanging out with was into acrylic.
"I knew that anything I painted with that stuff wouldn't be usable in the Wizard world, but I didn't expect to bring back any of my stuff. Then I was coming back for a summer visit to Hogwarts and it was nearly Minerva's birthday, so I brought that painting as a gift. I had grown to love it and wanted her to have it in remembrance of how I had used to be. Just on impulse, we decided to pay a nostalgic visit to the museum, she and I had visited it dozens of times when I was a student, and for some silly reason, she decided to hang my painting. Perhaps she wanted me to be a permanent part of the hidden museum, which we had shared and enjoyed so much, or perhaps she realized that she could never show the painting to anyone else at Hogwarts and hid it away in a place that only she would visit."
Barb met us in Harry's reception room and led us to Madam Bones' office. Madam Bones was surprised to see all of us, but readily agreed to join us for a snack. We walked out of the Ministry and into Diagon Alley, with a short stroll down the street bringing us to the sweet shop next to the Weasley emporium. Only one other table was occupied as we entered the café. We went all the way to the other end of the shop for added privacy and pulled two of the small tables together. When the owner came over to our table, I suggested "big mugs of hot chocolate for everyone, it's really, really, good, and a big plate of her chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven?"
The others nodded that this was a tempting suggestion. As the owner walked away to prepare our order, we moved on to the business of general cheering up.
"I thought you were likely in need of a break and a boost and so did Minerva," Adrienne announced to Madam Bones. "How are you holding up? The Daily Prophet was certainly a shock at our end. It caused one of my more gifted students to lose his grip."
"I'm fine, or at least I think I'm as fine as reasonable, under the circumstances. I won't pretend that this has been a good week. I've talked to both the Minister and Deputy Minister and neither wants me to resign. Even Kingsley stopped by and told me not to let this get me down. I think the Minister generally likes me, although he dislikes some of the things that I've done. Even I dislike some of the things that I've done. I don't think Harry likes me yet, but he seems determined to treat me fairly and give me a chance. When I make a good argument for my position, he supports me over Kingsley. I can't expect more than that. Kingsley has been polite and I don't think he's seeking vengeance on me, which by his standards, or most people's standards, he has every right to do,
that I poisoned him and cost him the Minister job. He's arguing tactics with me, knowing he should be my boss. If only for Arthur's sake, I'm sure Kingsley will play nice with me.
"At least for now, the administration has circled the wagons to protect me, but I think that Frakes is just nasty and that he won't stop coming after us. I'm not sure how long the administration will or should stand by Minerva and me. Arthur and Harry are good Wizards and they'll hold out as long as they can, but there's an election coming up in less than half a year. I think Arthur has things set up that the real battle over Minerva's position can't happen until the end of term, when a permanent headmaster will be chosen. My fate may rest on how well we do in the coming Wizengamot elections. The fate of all Witches may depend upon the results of that election. I readily admit that Frakes scares me. He wrote things these past two days which he really had no way of knowing. That is very unsettling. I know he will just keep attacking until Minerva and I are gone and Witches have fewer rights than Elves."
"I can't believe either Harry or the Minister would allow Witches to be given fewer rights than Elves, or than Wizards for that matter. You forget Harry's tax reduction amendment. There will be more Witches than ever voting in this next election," Hermione declared.
"I'm not sure if that will help or hurt," Madame Bones lamented. "The Witches who avoid voting to save the tax tend to be the older, more conservative, country Witches. They resent Witches that want to work outside the home or family farmlet. They especially resent unmarried Witches. Harry may well have strengthened our enemies."
"Then we have to convince them that their interests and their daughter's interests lie with our side," I told her. "I totally agree with your other point. Frakes is out for family vengeance and there is no chance of reasoning with that. He will be a bitter and fairly capable opponent for the rest of his career. But some of what he wrote was wrong; it's like he didn't research the articles himself and he didn't quite understand what he was told to write. I'd like to know who told him to write that. It may have been Barnabas Cuffe, but we know that The Daily Prophet allowed Thicknesse to write articles for Frakes to sign. Certainly the Daily Prophet doesn't like us. Harry's having lunch with Ernie and may be able to learn something. We were so convinced that our only leaks were from Professor McGonagall's Sisterhood, which I guess is from the two of you and McGonagall herself, but now we clearly have another major leak. I can't begin to guess who."
"I think you recall my telling you who the leak is," Hermione told me. To the others, she simply added, "I know who's been bugging us and I have a plan to stop it."
"It's someone who hates unmarried Witches," Adrienne offered. "I won't be surprised if you learn that this hatred, rather than opposition to Arthur or Harry's politics, is what is driving this person. It could be a Witch or a Wizard. I'm going to stay strong and not let it bother me."
"But it will hurt your career, Adrienne," Madam Bones complained. "As an artist, you've cultivated an image of youth, freedom, unlimited possibilities, and disregard for any convention. It won't further your reputation when it becomes known that your girlfriend is such an old Witch. It will make you seem positively stodgy."
"You're still quite adventurous and open to new ideas and politics, Amelia. As the highest ranking Witch in any recent government, you're still a glamorous path breaker. My reputation will be fine. I sell all my art in the Muggle world, anyway. If I tell them that I'm living with a Witch, my Muggle fans will just shout 'Wizard!'. The opposition doesn't dare go after me in the Muggle world. Doing anything to reveal our presence to the Muggles would be an instant trip to Azkaban, and the conservative Wizards would be the first to demand that sentence."
"Well, I'm relieved that you don't think this revelation will hurt your career," Madam Bones further relaxed, grabbing another cookie. "That would be worse than my losing my job over this. You're just getting your career fairly launched, while I've perhaps been at mine too long. I find myself becoming peevish and too wrapped up in my legal idiosyncrasies and spats with Kingsley.
"I know Harry would support me whole-heartedly, if he sensed that I had a passion for convicting and locking away the baddies. That's really all it would take for him and Arthur to support almost all of my legal reforms. I've set aside that passion to convict and let my efforts for reform totally consume me. I'm in danger of becoming an oddity. I've got to launch the prosecution of some of the Death Eater prisoners, to get my legal legs back under me again. What Harry doesn't realize, and what I have a very difficult time bringing myself to convey to him, was that it was prosecutions like Umbridge setting after him for underage magic or the prosecutions of the poor Muggle-born masquerading as pure-bred Wizards, that cut the prosecutorial heart out of me.
"I know I can't stay in this job if I can't regain my old balance and sense of the rightness of my work. I had no problem prosecuting Bruce, but I admit that I can't raise the passion to convict Pansy Parkinson. One part of my head still sees prosecutions as a bad way for one political faction to fight its opposition. I don't like the killing alternative, though. I do understand how frustrating it is to have Barty about to be sent up on his third life sentence, immediately after witnessing the escape of the Montaignes. Azkaban is just too horrible and inhumane. I admit to great difficulty in sending anyone there. We badly need a secure prison, without the dementors. I'm not convinced that the farthest depths of Gringotts are more than a temporary and rather inhumane alternative. What we've really been doing at Azkaban is bribing the dementors with prisoners, to prevent them attacking those we think of as 'the innocent'. You killed Voldemort's ghost: you should find a way to kill the dementors, or at least to banish them to a place where there are no humans."
I was feeling quite mellow and the ill effects of all the port I drank were slowly draining away from me. If this gathering was meant to be therapy for Madam Bones, it was also having a very salutary effect on my being. The hot chocolate was every bit as good as I remembered it, and the gooey chocolate chip cookies were even better than the éclair which I had consumed while cheering Erin. As the plate of cookies arrived, I timed my indulgence for the exact moment when the melted dark chocolate bittersweet chips were still molten and gooey, but not so hot that they burned my mouth. The proprietor certainly knew how to bake a great chipster – the cookie itself was crisp and brown, with all of the soft chewiness centered in the gooey chocolate. Whether it was all the sugar and chocolate or the lingering effects of tiredness and the port, I found myself thinking much more fondly of Madam Bones than I had previously. I found myself wanting to help her and wanting to persuade Harry to be kind to this good Witch. Killing the dementors did not sound like a bad idea at all. I wondered if they were covered, at least in spirit, by the Covenant. Hermione and I would have to plumb the depths of the new knowledge in our heads and determine if it were permissible to kill the dementors and, barring that, whether it was possible to tame them.
I mentioned this to Hermione. "I was thinking the same thing," she replied. "I'll certainly research both my head and the Ministry library."
Madam Bones replied, "bless you, children." I wasn't keen on the 'children' part, but appreciated her general sentiment. I was feeling so warm and mellow that I was beginning to suspect that Adrienne or Madam Bones possessed some spell or ability to adjust the mood of their companions. While I was musing this possibility, the door to the shop swung open and reinforcements arrived.
"I'm sorry that we're late," Professor McGonagall said more as a greeting than an apology. "I had to find and deal with the older Peakes boy. He had hidden away in the Quidditch changing room. As you can see, I rounded up Molly, Trew, Narcissa, Luna, and Margaret. I thought we might as well make this a general Witches' outing. Have you been cheering up Amelia?"
The proprietor ambled over, before anyone could reply, so Professor McGonagall continued "I think a couple more plates of your chocolate chip cookies and six more mugs of the hot chocolate. We'll just pull over another table."
"Make that seven mugs," I added "and we've all been of quite good cheer. Welcome to our little party."
"Umm, make that an even dozen mugs of the hot chocolate," Cissy corrected the order.
"Jimmy is sorry about his actions," Professor McGonagall reported. "He had developed quite a crush on Adrienne, despite his realization that she leans toward Witches. I think he somehow discovered that she had spent some time with Bruce, and that gave him false hope. The Daily Prophet sent him into a rage and he snuck up to her apartment before class and swapped paintings. He said he wanted to keep the self-portrait forever, but that when he saw everybody's reaction to his drawing, he knew he had been found out and rushed back to Gryffindor to destroy the evidence. He has detention until the Christmas break. He wouldn't tell me how he knew about Adrienne and Bruce or how he was able to slip into her apartment. The wall is solid and requires a key on your person for the stone to dissolve. I assume a determined person would have no difficulty breaking through or picking the lock on the apartment door, but I could find no sign of any of that. Jimmy warrants much closer watching, but I don't want him arrested. Professor Longbottom has promised to keep an eye on him."
"We have received no orders to arrest him," Barb replied, talking around a bite of cookie.
"It's amazing how well Neville has adjusted to being a Professor," I remarked. "I didn't think he would ever room in Gryffindor, for any reason, he was so concerned about the older students not taking him seriously, since they're so close in age. He's a no-nonsense leader and organizer within Gryffindor. Certainly a far more active House advisor than, umm, you were. He also teaches a very interesting herbology course, although quite a bit more on the practical side than Professor Sprouts' version. For a school that never gives a job to a fresh graduate, I don't think Hogwarts could possibly have done better."
"Being hired immediately following graduation is rare, but not unprecedented. I was hired a month after I graduated," Professor McGonagall corrected. "I think Dumbledore had to wait several years before he was hired. As I recall, one of the professors died over the summer after I graduated and there was a scramble to find a replacement. Other than that, I think you have to go back almost a century before you come upon a professor who was hired within two years of graduation. I know you've been quickly doing your math and not giving me your full attention, so I'll spare you the effort. I'm just under twenty-two years older than Narcissa. Very wrong, I know, but I loved her so very much. When I say Narcissa was truly exceptional, I mean that in my twenty plus years as a professor, I had not encountered a student mind the equal of hers."
"I wasn't calculating," I assured her.
"I suppose you all have realized that the Ministry leaker doesn't seem to like our sort of Witch," McGonagall commented, "and I certainly accept that Jimmy fits the description of that person. It seems to me, however, that someone has supplied Jimmy with information, possibly the same person who presented the scoops to Frakes. That person likely also had a Hogwarts key, perhaps even a broader master key than the one that Umbridge and I possessed. That is a scary thought to wrap your minds around. I know I'm going to place a charm on my door, until this culprit is caught."
"I go back to the theory that I presented in the cavern," Hermione announced to the whole table, although only Barb and I could possibly understand the reference. "I think just as we couldn't be absolutely certain that Umbridge was really dead, we have even less evidence that Rita Skeeter is dead. I can well imagine her flitting around the Ministry and even hitch hiking a ride on someone's hair or clothing, when we went down into the Gringotts Cavern. She could be the source of information and she would certainly pass along what she knows to The Daily Prophet. With a change in administration, she might even magically return to life. I thought my horse's behind proved this conjecture quite well. We really ought to lay a trap at the Ministry."
This required quite a bit of background explanation for our snacking companions. At the end of my rehashing of Hermione's demonstration, it was Madam Bones who interjected "eww, please, not while I'm eating!"
"Okay, I'll change topic a little," I promised. "Since there are still important mysteries to be solved, I think it timely to comment that the older generation has been holding out on us and that we might well have solved everything, if you had let us in on a few more of your secrets. Professor McGonagall says everything is about family, but our circle doesn't know or understand the personal and family relationships from the days when you were students. Those are the days that the Death Eaters got started and the Grindelwalds were initially defeated. Harry isn't just being snoopy and he isn't a gossip – he had a very good reason for wanting to read Dumbledore's files on certain students. Just reading his father's file put his battle with Snape in an entirely different light."
"Well, you're covering two generations," Mom told me, "going back to Dumbledore's student days and then as far forward as when Narcissa and Adrienne were students. It is natural for adults to want to shield you, or to want to keep their secrets to appear to be stronger or better people than we are. There are some things we are just very happy to have put behind us as we have matured. I agree, it is important that you understand more about how things were. Ask your questions and, if we think they're appropriate, we'll try to answer them."
"I have one that I've actually tried to research but been unable to find the answer," Hermione addressed the table. "I happen to agree with Draco that his father's death and behavior right before he died is the key to a lot of what has happened. Lucius said that Narcissa wasn't his choice in marriage partner. Did he have another person in mind?"
"I don't mind answering that, and I guess it might shed quite a bit of light on recent events," Narcissa told Hermione. Lucius's school sweetheart was Pansy's mother. When Lucius was forced to marry me, Pansy's mother married the much older Mr. Parkinson. I think Lucius was in love with Mrs. Parkinson all these years. Pansy may well have reminded him of her mother. That makes the Lucius-Pansy-Draco triangle even more messed up than I'm sure it already seemed. There was a time when I wondered if Lucius were Pansy's father, but Lucius adamantly denied that, and I believed him. I can also see that Pansy takes after Mr. Parkinson a bit in appearance and bears no resemblance whatsoever to Lucius. Pansy looks very much as her mother did when she left Hogwarts. I know that Lucius practically stalked Pansy for over a year before encountering her in the Muggle shop. That is what initially fired my suspicions."
"That also makes Mrs. Parkinson's actions in sending Lucius and Pansy off to help Silas kidnap us all the stranger," I commented.
"My first thought was that he was doing a favor for his old love, then I heard Thicknesse had a finger in that action," Narcissa replied.
"We know nothing about Adrienne's parents or childhood," Cissy stated.
"I'm not a shy person anymore," Professor Celine replied. "I'm perfectly happy to tell you about my young self. I was Muggle-born and grew up in Brighton. I demonstrated magical ability from a very young age, perhaps four or five. This made the neighbor kids think me quite strange. I was feared, but when there were enough of them together, I was picked on and once, when I was nine, punched and kicked so severely that I had a broken wrist and four cracked ribs. I fought back with my fists and feet, but I think it was my mind that did the major damage. One of my attackers, a boy of fourteen, was left huddled in a ball, crying. I kicked him a few times, as much as an excuse for his behavior as to hurt him. One of the girls had a broken leg and another a broken nose, which didn't really fully stop bleeding for nearly two weeks.
"The neighbor kids stopped picking on me and simply avoided me after that. In the year before I was summoned to Hogwarts, I found that I could get along with the other children in my class, if I stayed focused on happy thoughts. My family is Greek and Eastern Orthodox, which gets a little more earthily into the mystical than your standard Church of England, but I was beyond the pale. I frightened our old Priest, although his young assistant tried to make something proper of me. I learned a fair amount of church doctrine during that time. I was still a very shy little girl, and my left wrist still hurt me whenever I tried to do anything with it. I was smart enough that I did very well at my Muggle school, despite being too shy to say anything in class.
"I was even more shy my first year at Hogwarts. I took the standard abuse meted out to the Muggle-born, which the Slytherins dished out on a daily basis, very seriously. I was in Gryffindor and, although my fellow Gryffindors often stood up for me, I was sad and had trouble getting along. The girl who befriended me on the Hogwarts Express and became my best friend in Gryffindor, said I had a way of making everyone around me feel sad. I don't think it was a lack of intelligence or magical ability, but I was a very iffy student that first year. My disdain for Quidditch also made me stand out. My best friend forced me to attend the Gryffindor matches, just so I wouldn't seem so strange.
"I spent that summer pretty much in my parents' house, reading, playing with, and talking to my three year younger non-magical brother and generally feeling sorry for myself. Toward the end of that summer is when I started to draw in earnest. The only time I left the house was to sketch the houses in the neighborhood or the sea-side scenery. I must have brought a dozen detailed drawings of my brother Edwin back to Hogwarts with me. I had him in crayon, charcoal, pencil, pen, pastels, and even one in oil. After I appeared to be making a less than auspicious start on my second year, Professor McGonagall visited me in our room and saw my art. I had also drawn all my roommates, by that time. She told me that it was a shame that Hogwarts couldn't offer me art instruction, but that she would see what she could do. At first she bought me some art supplies and critiqued my efforts.
"That December, something happened that changed my life. I didn't understand it at the time, but Edwin had pitched a fit about not wanting his strange sister to come home for Christmas. He had invited a friend from his school, who had moved away a month before, to come stay with him for the holiday and didn't want the friend to see me. I didn't realize that was the reason until years later. Anyway, a week before Christmas break my mother wrote me a letter saying the family and most of the neighbors had come down with terrible cases of the flu and it would be far better if I didn't come home for the holiday. I think Barb would have stayed at Hogwarts with me, but we had already both planned to go home to our families. She was committed to go home, so I was left alone at Hogwarts. I was the only student remaining in Gryffindor over Christmas. Professor McGonagall took mercy on me and showed me what she called her 'secret Hogwarts'. I saw the museum, the pyramid, and the room where the Elves run the school utilities. I spent hours in the museum that holiday, partly with Professor McGonagall and partly alone. I made copies of many of the drawings and paintings in the museum.
"I took meals with the staff who were present, which was Headmaster Dumbledore, Snape, Professor Sprout, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomphrey, Professor Binns – he didn't die until a year later - and of course Professor McGonagall. There were also two Hufflepuffs and two Ravenclaws who were staying at Hogwarts for the holiday and who ate with us. Strangely, I found it easier to converse with this group than I did with the whole Gryffindor table.
"Somehow, that experience gave me more confidence and when Barb and my classmates returned, I got along with them easier. Barb said I had changed a lot in a fortnight. I think she was right. I felt much happier and more at ease. Whenever I felt out of sorts, I'd grab a canvas, my brushes and a few jars of paint. An hour of fierce concentration and my spirits were inevitably restored. Barb said I had learned how to make other people happy. I even had a knack for rousing the spirit of girls who had descended into the severe mopes. The rest of my Hogwarts tenure was idyllic. By the time I graduated, I was a decided extrovert and everyone in Gryffindor was my friend. Although I spent summers at home, I felt less and less welcome within my family and was studiously avoided by my brother. I had transitioned from the fun older sister to the weird and embarrassing relation, who had to be tolerated for three months a year.
"During my fifth year, Professor McGonagall recruited me into her sisterhood. It was mainly camaraderie and study buddies and professors and graduates giving advice on what to do after we graduated. Halfway through my sixth year, Professor McGonagall met with me and told me that I could be of great value to the Sisterhood as an agent in the Muggle world. She said my art and my Muggle birth would be my passport into that world as an adult. I had already spent the summer after my fifth year taking art classes at a Muggle college. During the summer after my sixth year, I made my way into London and lived with half a dozen young artists. It was a wild, free three months, in which I learned a lot about how young Muggle artists lived. I picked up tips from my new friends on painting and drawing, on how to sell your work for a pittance, on where to buy art supplies on the cheap, and most importantly on what clothes, language, wine, and likes and dislikes were considered in by the young avant garde artists. I also got my first real experience with boys.
"My senior year, Professor McGonagall let me wear the Ravenclaw spectacles and diadem. One day, just for a lark, and I guess feeling a little rebellious about some of Minerva's strictures, I decided to hide the diadem within my hair and wear the spectacles to Advanced Transfiguration class. It was then and there, while transfiguring my broom into a floppy straw hat, that I got the idea for Witch Sculpture. I spent the rest of that term refining my technique and even dabbling with what would later become Witch Painting. It was that term that I realized I was attracted to Witches in general and my friend Barbara in particular. I snuck her down to the art museum for snogging sessions. It was an absolutely glorious term.
"After graduation the Sisterhood, and Narcissa in particular, got me set up in a small loft in Soho. I shared it with two older Muggle female artists. It was then that I learned I was more attracted to older women than those my own age and drifted apart a bit from my old friend Barb, although we stayed friends and kept in contact, especially since we were both in the Sisterhood. I was doing more painting than sculpting and what sculpting I did was marble or wood. I could Witch Sculpt the marble in easy stages, so that my roomies would think I simply had a very productive day, while they were out going about their business. To just suddenly produce a finished bronze sculpture, 'ta-dah', would have been impossible to explain. After a couple years of this existence, I was feeling the need for a place where I could freely practice my art, without having to constantly hide my magical ability. Amelia took me in and gave me studio space in her home. Our relationship just blossomed from there, as I realized what a kind, sensitive, super intelligent Witch she was. It also helped that she honestly appreciated my art and encouraged me to take outrageous artistic chances.
"All was light and increased artistic achievement and acceptance within the Muggle world, until Professor McGonagall launched me on the Bruce project. It took me several months to get close to him and then I was with him for several months. His wealth and contacts set me up with some excellent art dealers and several rich collectors, who took a fancy to my sculpture. The artistic acceptance almost made up for Bruce, but those quickly became dark days and if I showed you my work from that time, you would instantly recognize that it was produced by a different person that I am today. I think my professorship is a reward for my days with Bruce and that I was offered it in the knowledge that I needed something like this to complete my healing. Now you know my story."
"Except that I'm her former and current friend, Barb," my auror-protector spoke out from the far end of the table. "Adrienne and I still get along well together and I appreciate most of her art, even some of the things from her dark period."
"That means," Hermione agitatedly burst forth "that Professor McGonagall learned of the Bruce danger long before the rest of us."
"It was discussed within the Sisterhood and we shared our concerns with the Order," Mom informed us "but Adrienne quickly sent back the key intelligence – Bruce wasn't going to make common cause with Voldemort, but rather quietly build his strength in France and Germany, until he was ready to surface as a force independent of the Death Eaters. Bruce was fairly safe on the Continent, but if Bruce's actions became common knowledge, Lord Montaigne would have been in terrible danger. At the time, we saw Montaigne as a not-so-bad possible counterweight to be used against Voldemort, so we kept quiet about Bruce. It seemed far preferable to ignore Bruce and hope that he remained dormant, until we could find a way to deal with Voldemort and Thicknesse. Even after Gunter Gran Martine surfaced, we didn't suspect it was Bruce, because Bruce's efforts seemed too ineffectual. He was more of a dilettante revolutionary than the real thing. It was Adrienne who learned that Bruce had taken another step into madness and put his daydreams into action. He had amassed more stolen Muggle money than we realized and this allowed him to move much faster than we imagined."
"I was close enough to the inner workings of the Death Eaters, to be able to report that Voldemort did not regard Bruce as anything more than a foolish, dilettante playboy, who had squandered his chance to join the Death Eaters. He saw Bruce as something unclean, to be avoided and ignored. That knowledge allowed the Order to focus solely upon the Death Eaters," Narcissa elaborated.
By the time our refreshment reinforcements had arrived, Callista, Prudence, Mrs. Granger, Susan Bones, and even Cho had joined us. I was beginning to feel like I was attending a recruitment meeting for the Sisterhood. Those of us who were first to arrive, chivalrously surrendered our second mugs of hot chocolate to the newcomers, as we ordered up another dozen mugs of chocolate and two more plates of chocolate chip cookies.
"I can't keep making the same thing, although this certainly is good for the health of my business," the proprietor told us. Since Susan likes her chocolate with a bit of coffee and her chocolate chip cookies with walnuts, I'll alter to that recipe for the next round, unless anyone objects." We were all willing to experiment.
"Your Mom?" I asked Susan.
"Yes, I didn't realize that you didn't know that. That makes it all the stranger that you brought Amelia to her sister-in-law's shop to cheer her up. Mom is also a member of the Sisterhood, in case you didn't know. I joined up in the middle of my fourth year. Watching Harry was one of my assignments."
"I also was recruited at the end of my fourth year," Cho volunteered. "At the end of my fifth year, Professor McGonagall sent me on a journey to investigate the magical communities of the East. I visited the Wizarding schools in Tibet, India, and Japan. They're all quite small. My mission was a complete failure. Professor McGonagall wanted me to recruit help in the fight against the Death Eaters, but none of the Wizards that I visited had any interest in getting involved in our affairs. Britons of every stripe were viewed as a bad thing. They were scared that I had found them. I understand their fear, their communities are so small inside such large countries. India has the largest magical community in the East, but still, it is smaller than two thousand people. They are so outnumbered that there is no such thing as a Muggle-born Wizard in the East."
"Things have been so busy, that we didn't contact you or Viktor," I apologized, "but Harry used Viktor's weapon in a duel with Thicknesse. Obviously, it worked. Harry was thrown onto his butt, but was otherwise unharmed. Thicknesse was in five separate pieces. It was the stuff of nightmares, which unfortunately it has been, for Harry. He is beating himself up, because he killed Thicknesse with that killing spell, rather than disarming and capturing him. We have since learned that Thicknesse may have been a not-so-bad guy who was Imperiused by a Death Eater and may have been Imperiused ever since. Harry keeps saying he killed an innocent, out of arrogance."
"You simply have to tell Harry that what he thinks can't possibly be true. Viktor has thought a lot more about using his weapon in duels. If Harry was locked up, wand-to-wand with Thicknesse and then succeeded in killing him with Viktor's discovery and if Harry suffered no ill physical effect from a blowback, then Harry did the only thing he could do. Thicknesse had to have been using a killing curse and been as strong or stronger than Harry. Had Harry done his old 'expelliarmus' thing, or even a 'petrificus', he would have died. In order for Harry not to have experienced blow-back, the duel must have been very even on a deadly curse to deadly curse level. If Harry were enough stronger to prevail with anything less than 'Avada Kedavra', then he certainly would have died had he used a weaker curse. He would have just seen all his energy drained away, until he was defenseless and then dead. Viktor found this for certain. I'm very glad that the trick worked for Harry and very apologetic that Viktor or I didn't send Harry the results of our new studies and experiments. Harry should feel no guilt. His only choice was to live or to die. If he doesn't believe this, then he must visit Viktor. He can explain it all better than I can hope to."
Mrs. Bones came back with our reinforcement of goodies and squeezed a seat in between Hermione and me. "I haven't had this many people in my shop, since Voldemort took over."
"It's going to be even more," Callista told her. "Professor McGonagall asked me to have the Minister, Harry, and Ron join us in mid-afternoon. I guess we might need some heavier fare than chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate."
"I'll send for a widowed Witch who used to help me out, when times were better. Like me, she lost her husband in the early days of the Voldemort wars. It was shortly after that when I joined the Sisterhood. It provides a lot of help and advice to a Witch running a business and raising a daughter on her own. I don't know what I would have done without their help. It was a very difficult time, but I've gotten my life back together and you can just see how well Susan turned out. Through these latest troubles, I've felt a lot safer having the Weasley shop next door. I know it has attracted some bombs, but there were nights when Lee, George, and Cho chased baddies away from my shop."
"I'd like to talk a bit more about Pansy, before Harry gets here," Professor McGonagall announced. "You wanted background, so I'll give you a bit of additional background. I needed a source of information within the Slytherin House, suspect as I was of Snape and his ability to ignore any wrong doing by members of his House. I didn't have a lot of choices, but Pansy seemed like a possibility. I'm sure that you think I recruited her this past summer, but she actually became a provisional member near the start of her sixth year, when she was very worried about Draco. We have a way of handling provisional recruits such that they get to meet very few of our members and get only the barest outline of our agenda. For Pansy, we were primarily just a support group for young Witches at Hogwarts. I worked fairly closely with Pansy, myself, and assigned a student member to be her guide and contact. That person was Susan Bones. During that year, the only members of the Sisterhood whom she met were Susan, Trew, Madam Sprout, and myself, and later the Patil girls. It was presented almost as a student support group and tutorial club. Without giving much, really anything, away we slowly picked up knowledge of what was happening within Slytherin as Pansy spoke of the changes she saw in Draco, how Goyle was developing doubts about him, her worries, and what her parents expected of her.
"It was just useful background to better understand what the opposition was thinking. Ties with Pansy slackened in her seventh year as our side basically lost any control over Hogwarts. When she returned this summer, she and I reestablished ties. I thought she was very positive and cooperative throughout the summer and then started to change as the term started. She never knew that Narcissa was a member of the Sisterhood. The only new member she met over the summer was Madam Pomphrey. I can't say that Pansy ever took any risks on behalf of the Sisterhood, or ever really enjoyed our full confidence, but there was a sense that she might come around with time. She certainly did not seem like a bad person. I don't want to give up on and abandon her. I know that Ginny thinks it almost unfair to approach Harry with this particular issue at this particular time, but I'm not sure that there will be another time. I think we can get something back for treating Pansy well."
"I haven't seen Pansy recently, but I didn't think she was a bad person as a sixth year," Susan Bones affirmed.
"Being wired up to a generator and waiting to die is far too fresh in my mind to be overly generous to Pansy," Hermione declared with some heat. "Ron also told me what Pansy said about me when she was captured, and it was hateful. I also am impressed by how truly broken up she was that Lucius was dead. She had almost nothing nice to say about Draco. It has been suggested that this was the work of Voldemort's ghost, but the ghost didn't mention influencing Pansy. I'm not saying it's impossible that the ghost played a role, but you want us to just assume that, in the absence of any evidence. We know that Pansy and Lucius go way back."
"I confess that I don't know what to make of Pansy," Narcissa admitted. "I liked her and thought she could be good for Draco. I'd like to be able to say I saw a specific point in time when she had changed and point to that as the ghost taking her over, but I can't. She fooled me up to the end. I have no idea what you could expect from a Pansy released on probation. I don't know if being shut up in a house with her mother is making her more or less loyal to Mrs. Parkinson's politics. I also don't know what she would make of the knowledge that her mother and Lucius were once an item, although I'd love to be there when she's told. If you're looking to me for assurance that a short sentence for Pansy is a good thing, I'll have to disappoint you."
"So, Prudence, how were things at the Ministry, when you left?" McGonagall asked.
"Not very happy – Arthur and Kingsley were really upset by this morning's Daily Prophet and have done a lot of yelling and plotting to discover the leak. Harry popped in early in the morning and urged calm, promising to find out what he could when he lunches with Ernie. Arthur was upset that Madam Bones was gone, but Harry said that, under the circumstances he thought it best to give her the day off and let her friends try to cheer her up. That made it tricky for me to ask the afternoon off, but I've put in so much time of late, and half the press will be off at Hogwarts, that Arthur relented and let me go. I at least talked him out of trying to meet with Barnabas Cuffe today. I told him that in high level meetings like that, the party that is angry and out of control always loses, and that he would just supply more unfortunate quotes for tomorrow's paper. I convinced him to join us later this afternoon. Perhaps some cookies and chocolate will calm his nerves. The only good news is that all this turmoil seems to have taken Thicknesse off Harry's mind. He was expending all his energy calming the Minister and the Director. They finally agreed to help him plan what he should say to Ernie."
"We seem to be drifting away from the original idea of soothing the wounded," Professor McGonagall complained. "Does anyone have anything pleasant or interesting to talk about?"
"I've been thinking about how we can expand the arts," Professor Celine responded. "I want to tackle an expanded music program after the Christmas break and think you should hire someone to teach writing. Neville told me about the book he plans to write on the career of Rita Skeeter. He has even begun doing research. Anyway, that reminded me what really good writers Ernie and Xenophilius are. They are entertaining, while accurately and concisely convey information – sometimes quite complicated information. I thought they might help out part-time, instructing the students on how to write well. I'm a little surprised that the Hogwarts of the past few years was able to produce a student who writes as well as Ernie does. I think we should leave the fiction writing until later, unless you count some of Xenophilius's earlier work, which is really very creative and amusing. Sorry Luna," she hastened to add as Luna's expression indicated a level of disagreement with Adrienne's tone.
Not surprisingly, Cissy thought Adrienne's idea was brilliant. Of course, she thought everything about Adrienne was brilliant. Still, she seemed to recognize the sort of writing that Professor Celine was referring to and insisted that we would need much more of it as we got about the technical business of documenting the more modern Wizard society that we wished to create. She said she had to engage in just this sort of writing to condense some financial and accounting reports down to a simplified form that the former Lord was able to understand.
"Speaking of your parents, Cissy," Hermione asked "I don't think I know anything of your mother's family and background."
"Since my mother died giving birth to me, I obviously never knew her. I have seen pictures of her and of the former Lord Montaigne together and looking at least contented. She was very beautiful and much younger than my father. Even in the picture taken right after their marriage, she seems frail and rather sickly. That's why I'm just as happy to be a little pudgy. She married as soon as she graduated from Hogwarts. She was, of course, a Slytherin. She was Minister Thicknesse's sister, although I only met Pius twice that I can remember.
"Apparently, when mother died, the two families drifted apart. From what I have discovered in a trunk in an unused room in the castle, which I wasn't able to enter while the former Lord Montaigne was a free man, my mother was an excellent student of Divination and Transfiguration. She had NEWTS in both. She had a premonition both that I was a girl and that she would die without ever seeing me. I found a letter which she wrote to me. Of course the former Lord Montaigne never found it or else it would no longer exist. She said she happily anticipated my birth, and not just because it represented the ultimate escape from the former Lord Montaigne. She names my real father, whom I intend to keep secret for now, until I can find him and get up the courage to meet with him. He is not someone you would know. He was a squib that the former Lord Montaigne hired as a servant through The New Start Society. There was a picture of him in the trunk. He was very handsome and just about the same age as my mother. My mother asked me to promise and kiss her picture to make it binding that I would do whatever was necessary to prevent the former Lord Montaigne from selecting a husband for me.
"She said she'd much prefer that I became a Light Guardian Priestess living alone on Iona. She said she didn't want me to kill myself to escape, but that every other means I could think of was fair. I just found the trunk three days ago. I'm surprised that the former Lord Montaigne didn't just burn it, but I guess he felt confident that he could prevent my ever laying eyes upon it. My mother left me a diary of her impressions of Hogwarts and a copy of a vision that came to her on the night of her seventeenth birthday. I'll share the vision, it's really a prophecy, with you soon. She was sleeping in the girls' dorm of Slytherin at the time. They had celebrated her birthday by downing some strange potions that the boys had brewed up instead of making Draught of the Living Death, like they were supposed to. She knew that the potion was having a strange effect on her and so rushed off to bed. She suspected that the boys planned to take advantage of her."
"That gives me a much better picture of what had been a very mysterious woman," I told Cissy. "I'm anxious to hear the details of your mother's vision, but I accept that this will have to wait."
Cissy whispered to me "not long."
Harry was next through the door. He was preceded by Bill, but had also brought Ron, Neville, and Draco. "I left Jimmy with Madam Pomphrey and Ellen," Neville whispered rather loudly to McGonagall as he sat down. "He hasn't given much of an explanation and certainly nothing about how he managed to enter the apartment. We searched for a key, but didn't find one."
"How was your lunch with Ernie?" Mom asked Harry.
"It's always good to see Ernie. I gave him a detailed account of the discovery and fight at Thicknesse's hideout and talked about how it feels to be the boss of Madam Bones and Director Shacklebolt. I was a little embarrassed by the lunch I was able to offer him, the food really isn't very good at all, when Professor McGonagall is away. I didn't think Cotto allowed the Elves to slack off on the job like that."
"Not slacking at all," Professor McGonagall replied. "I've asked them to save cost over the next week to help pay for an unbudgeted banquet that I've scheduled for the end of that week. I'll tell you more on that later, please continue with your summary of your meeting with Ernie."
"Ernie knows he's been badly scooped by Frakes and is trying to figure out how it happened. He saw a completed column and notes for two others, all in the same hand, which he said definitely wasn't Frakes'. He admitted that he is not an expert in such things, but that the handwriting struck him as feminine. He's been on the look out for more of the same and for samples of other people's handwriting to compare it against. He said it certainly is not the handwriting of anyone who works at the Prophet."
"Give him these to compare against," Hermione told Harry, digging into her carry-all bag and pulling out several small folded-over pieces of paper.
"Cho has something important to tell you," I nudged Harry. Harry caught Cho's attention and she gave him the latest information from Viktor and her interpretation of Harry's choices in his fight with Thicknesse.
"That makes me feel a little better," Harry replied, "but I still could have left Thicknesse to the aurors, who might have made a greater effort to capture him alive."
"We didn't know which aurors we could trust," I reminded Harry. "We all thought that finding Thicknesse that close to Cardiff meant that Shacklebolt must be bad." That made Harry smile and he finally reached for a mug of chocolate and a chocolate chipster. I couldn't remember ever being so pleased to have Harry talking to Cho. She was a good friend and continued to explain to Harry why he had made the best possible choice in deciding to secret weapon Thicknesse.
"And I take it this is all perfectly legal, because your generation has come up with some new curses that are worse than 'Avada Kedavra', but my generation doesn't yet know enough about them to make them illegal?" Amelia challenged Harry.
"Yes, that's exactly the point," Harry answered her. "Now do you see why I keep saying that we need a law that prohibits killing people, except under acceptable circumstances, such as self-defense? And killing an Elf needs to merit more than a fine. It should be motive and circumstance of the killing that matters, not whether or not you used some specific curse that's been prohibited by law for generations. The Wizard world isn't going to be static anymore. New curses will be invented as fast as you can outlaw them. You have to revise the law to address the intent and the consequences, not the means. It's like saying it's far worse if I murder you with a knife, instead of bashing your head in with a rock. Same end result, same intent on the part of the killer, same lack of extenuating circumstances. It should be the same penalty. You shouldn't be able to pull out some moldy old law that says killing with a knife is awful, but killing people any other way is not so bad."
"I'll continue thinking about that."
More substantial food, in the form of fish and chips, arrived and, as we started to indulge, Professor McGonagall made a run at Harry: "have you given any further thought to possible leniency for Pansy?"
"I've been pestered by so many people on her behalf, that I can honestly say that I've given an over-abundance of thought to Pansy. I'll make a deal with you. I'm willing to sit in on the detailed review of Pansy's condition and actions that you, Madam Bones, and, more recently, Callista want me to undertake, if you give me access to and review with me the remainder of the records that Dumbledore left to me. I'm not trying to be overly nosy. I think they may well contain clues that can help us resolve some of our problems, and that Dumbledore specifically left them to me for that reason."
"Much of that is confidential to the Hogwarts headmaster. Dumbledore may have left them, to pass through your hands to their proper resting spot, because he didn't know for sure who would be headmaster when his cabinets were opened and whether or not that new headmaster would be a person whom he would have trusted."
"So, you're saying he saw me as the person he could trust. I've also shown as both the Deputy Minister and just plain Harry Potter, that I'm able to keep a confidence. I think Dumbledore wanted me to use those records to catch the remaining Death Eaters and Grindelwalds. That's exactly what I intend to do. It is time to shake off the self-loathing and get back to the hunt."
"Yay, Harry!" As eyes turned to look at me, I realized that I had said that aloud.
"Alright, I accept, but I will be there while you review the files, and you and I will be the only viewers," McGonagall told Harry, "and you will pledge not to make the contents public."
"That's fine, I want you there. You can likely explain the significance and context of some of Dumbledore's notes. Of course I won't make the contents public. They are not legally admissible evidence, but I may and will use them to pursue any baddies that Dumbledore's notes point to."
"I think we understand each other. I'll expect the Pansy review within the week."
"I'm not sure that I'm entirely happy with that approach," Draco told McGonagall.
"Neither am I," responded Dad, whom I hadn't even realized had joined us.
"Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy, I can assure you that Mr. Potter is fully watching out for your interest in seeking a quick divorce. And Minister, I am not suggesting that Mr. Potter agree to leniency on behalf of your administration. I'm merely seeking his, Hermione's, and your daughter's approval as victims of this particular crime."
"I see. You can be assured that I will personally weigh in later. Meanwhile, if Harry wants to investigate further, I have no objection. I would prefer, however, that outside of Hogwarts you say Deputy Minister, rather than Mister Potter. It makes it sound that you see him as some sort of usurper that you must bring to heel."
That last comment sat within quite a few seconds of silence, before McGonagall finally responded "of course, Minister."
"I don't care if you call him Harry, but I'm well aware of the meaning of MISTER Potter, said by a Hogwarts Professor or Headmaster with that particular intonation and I won't have that level of disapprobation shown by a member of my cabinet to my Deputy Minister. I hope that I make myself abundantly clear.
"I'm at least pleased to see," Dad continued, "that my Deputy Minister appears to have regained his equilibrium since last I saw him, and that Madam Bones hasn't wandered too far on her day off.
"I've been thinking about the proposal from your department to create a more secure prison for holding those convicted of crimes. Housing every two prisoners with their own Elf and eight aurors on rotating shifts to guard them is killing my budget and depriving Shacklebolt of aurors. I'm open to a reasonable solution. I think that the Montaigne formerly known as Lord has disavowed his special arrangements, both by escaping and by his threats. I'm going to insist that any deal with the Parkinsons likewise includes moving them out of detached housing and into whatever new prison we create. I'm not opposed to closing Azkaban and I'm not viewing the Gringotts vaults as anything other than very temporary. I agree with Madam Bones that the brutality of Azkaban is hard to stomach. It would be more humane to just kill its prisoners. I'm also fully aware of the number of innocents who have been sent off to Azkaban over the years. Azkaban also needs repairs that we can't afford and being way out in the middle of the sea increases its cost. The only advantage was that it was impossible to escape from Azkaban, but we know that is no longer true."
"We discussed this," I told Dad. "The problem is that unless we find a way to kill the dementors, they will come in search of innocent prey."
"Your old Dad also thought of that, and thinks he has a solution. If we can create a permanent array of Patronuses around Azkaban, it can become a prison for the dementors. Either we can revisit the site regularly to recharge the Patronuses or Firenze's cetaceans can hide just beyond the Patronus barrier and keep it powered. I don't know how long it will take, but the dementors should eventually wither and starve. I called the Muggle Prime Minister and told him the possible perils of what I want to do. He well remembers the problems that loose dementors caused for his constituents. He thought my approach was a reasonable approach to test and that, given Azkaban's isolation and charmed separation from the normal world of Muggles, that as a last resort, it might be safe to stage an accident with a very big, very hot, and very bright bomb. That would almost surely kill all the dementors."
"I'm going to research the problem," Hermione promised Dad. "I also don't know whether the Light Guardian's prohibition on killing magical creatures extends to dementors. There are a lot of questions to be answered."
I had been thinking of McGonagall's promised banquet and a thought popped into my head, "We missed the open house at the Sacred Cavern," I exclaimed to nobody in particular.
"I think the Goblins were happier hosting the event on their own," Harry replied. "Just to be safe, I made sure that Pavel didn't attend. I'm told the event went well. We should be able to read about it in tomorrow's papers."
"Were the you-know-what prophecies displayed?"
"No, that wasn't a problem. The Unicorns agreed to display the original Voldemort prophecy, which started this whole adventure, and the Montaigne prophecy. I think that's innocuous enough. Do you want to go vote on the Goblin art exhibit, before I have to go back to Hogwarts to meet Xenophilius?"
Doing something other than sitting seemed a great idea, so I happily walked along Diagon Alley with Harry to the broad stairs leading up to the front door of Gringotts. We took the elevator up to the third floor, finding ourselves in a small lobby area, in front of the wooden doors, which led into the great room. The room was empty of bodies, but the lights came on as soon as we entered.
We tried our best to judge the exhibits from the Goblin standpoint of originality of concept, followed by originality of tactical execution, followed by quality of execution, followed by how much we enjoyed the final product. This seemed backwards to me, but Harry insisted that we had to try to follow Goblin standards. I told him that he could judge his way and I would judge mine. It was still extremely difficult, with so many different pieces in so many different styles. How does one judge a bronze sculpture against a pen and ink drawing, against a large oil painting, against a stained-glass panel? We were supposed to pick the four that we liked most, awarding our personal first, second, third, and fourth prizes. I didn't know if our opinion would make any difference whatsoever in whom the Goblins chose as their future King, but on the off chance that my opinion did matter, I was wishing that I knew something about the artists and their politics. It would be awful to give my first prize to the Goblin equivalent of Bruce, or more accurately Ruppasta, and find that my vote had influence because I was the Mother of the Future. This thought sobered my mood and caused me to eliminate any pieces which struck me as being at all dark or nasty. I wanted bright, original, well-executed pieces that delighted me. This simple setting of internal standards eliminated two-thirds of the candidates.
I proceeded by putting the remaining pieces into the categories 'grabs me' or doesn't. I was now down to about a third of the pieces that I hadn't already eliminated. I judged these on my impression of degree of difficulty, excellence of execution, and what seemed original to me. I downplayed this last category, because I didn't have nearly enough art experience to even guess at what was original. Harry was finished with his judging and watching me with interest as I narrowed down from six pieces to my final choices. A large and very intricately detailed oil painting of the battle of the Circle of the Goblins was my first choice. It had to be at least somewhat original, since the battle was only a month old. My second choice was a two-foot long dragon sculpted from a mottled greenish rock. It looked very much like a fierce dragon and I marveled at the intricacy of the detail, from individual toes and teeth, to the expression on the dragon's open-mouthed face. Third place went to a statue of an Elf, cast in silver. The casting was very detailed and the silver had been colored varied hues to give the little Elf quite a personality. Given the size of the work, it was quite valuable, based upon metal content alone. I had a pang of guilt at giving one of my prizes to perhaps the only contestant who could afford enough silver to make a life-sized Elf. Last prize went to a stained-glass panel, which I simply found immensely cheering as it stood, back-lit, in front of the wall. The scene it depicted could have been from the Forbidden Forest, with happy Unicorns, Centaurs, Elves, and a lone Goblin and lone Witch happily existing in peace against a forest background. There was a ton of fine detail, which must have been extremely time-consuming, to fit this whole scene with its dozen characters into a four foot by eight foot panel. I wondered if I shouldn't rank the panel higher, as I continued to stare at it. I felt the artist must be a happy Goblin and the title 'The New Covenant' also appealed to me. I moved the stained-glass up to number one and I was done.
Harry handed me my 'Official Judge's Ballot' and I carefully wrote in my selections, signing and printing my name at the bottom. I showed Harry my selections. He said the oil painting which I had shoved out of first place was his first choice. My stained-glass panel was his fourth choice and his other choices were entirely different from mine.
"Did you notice," Harry asked me "that the Vice-Chairman entered three pieces. The stained-glass that you liked is his. He had one other stained glass and a wood carving. I was surprised to see that the King entered three new pieces. I liked one of his drawings enough to make it my number two. That was an honest choice, not diplomatic-style kissing up. Still, it puts us in sort of an awkward position, when you think of it. I don't even know if Goblin rules allow King Goblanze to run again. Of course, he can just take the position that this was an art contest open to all."
"Except he set the condition that anyone thinking of running for King had to have an entry in this exhibition," I reminded Harry. "I judged based totally on the art, I didn't even look at the names. I don't even remember the Deputy Chairman's name. I hope he is a good person who just wanted a fair election and more democracy for the Goblins, rather than a nasty Ruppasta think alike. I'd hate to think my vote put the next 'knock the Wizards from their perch' leader in place. His stained glass seemed so peaceful and tranquil, but I have a little difficulty thinking of it the same way, knowing who made it."
We heard a little bang and then the comment "very hard be both art critic and diplomat. Vote for King or Deputy, British or French Goblin? Do you vote at all? Ah, I see you both vote. Shows courage at least."
"What do you think we should do, Cotto?" Harry implored.
"Safest thing – put vote in pocket, go home, check vote against winner, when everything over. Goblins will vote in secret, you can't."
"Excellent advice," Harry replied, folding up his official ballot and stuffing it into the inside pocket of his robes. "Time to return to Hogwarts. Did you come to stop us from doing this stupid thing, or is there other urgent business?"
"Other business. Cotto listen to talk of spy in Ministry. Maybe spy sneak in at night, when Wizards are gone. I organize Elf patrol. You can help if leave bait for rat, tomorrow."
"I'll do just that," Harry promised. "I'll create something far too tasty to resist and let it be known that I'm leaving it in my office. Do you want to borrow my invisibility cloak?"
"Elf not need cloak."
"Oh? I didn't know that. Were you at the café with us this afternoon."
"Yes, Cotto protect Ginny."
"That's a tad unnerving, but thank you for looking after Ginny."
Cotto apparated us back to the Gryffindor common room. "You Elves are the most powerful magicians, aren't you?"
"In many ways. Don't worry, Elves like Harry Potter."