It took a couple of weeks after the holidays for Dumbledore to have time to discuss things on a weekend that Remus was at Hogwarts. The three of us, as well as McGonagall, were ensconced in Dumbledore's office. I'd gotten a draft of the werewolf legislation from Umbridge at the Malfoy party, and Remus had seen it already but Dumbledore hadn't.
"I'm forced to concur with Remus," Dumbledore said, looking over the parchment. "This will simply drive more of the cursed into lives of crime. The only slight fortune is that they no longer have Greyback to rally around."
"He had lieutenants," Remus argued. "It's been too long for me to know if any of them is strong enough to step up and take over, or if they'd fracture into separate packs with the influx."
"Why now?" McGonagall asked. "It seems, without Greyback, there might actually be less threat from them for some time."
"Delores has a cabinet full of legislation she hopes to pass, just awaiting an event that she can use to justify it," Dumbledore explained. "If Mr. Dresden had triumphed over a murderous centaur or merfolk, there would likely be a corresponding bill forwarded."
"That woman," my head of house grumbled. "If she'd concentrated half as hard on her schoolwork as she did on her phobias, she would have had a much more superlative tenure at Hogwarts."
"How did she become a senior undersecretary?" I asked.
McGonagall shrugged, but Dumbledore explained, "She's dreadfully organized, and tracks favors as easily as paperwork. The Ministry is largely divided to those that find her useful and those over whom she has some form of leverage. Ultimately, she's risen above her competence and her opinions aren't too much of a threat, so I have not expended the influence to uproot her." He fixed me with a gaze over his spectacles, "I, of course, caution you about becoming one of those favors unnecessarily."
"Could she get my Doom lifted?" I asked.
The old man shrugged. "Potentially. I believe she's friends with John Dawlish and has the influence to rescind it if he does not object. Whether she actually would go through with it, or just string you along, I cannot speculate."
"How much would this bill affect Remus?"
"It wouldn't actually prevent me from hiring him as a professor, but public registration would likely lead to quite a few letters from concerned parents until he proved himself competent. And if there were any kind of accident, it would be used against the school." He read down and tapped another section, "And this part about restriction of movement seems intended as a tracking measure, but might actually have teeth to curtail Remus' activities in the magical or muggle worlds should someone in authority so desire."
"That's what I was afraid of," the werewolf in question said. "I'd be grudgingly okay with it if I thought that anyone who might eventually have that authority would use is wisely. Or if it wouldn't disproportionately affect werewolves trying to follow the law."
"So I back out," I shrugged. "I have enough problems without getting involved with politics unless that's going to solve some of them."
"Well… actually," Remus amended. "I wonder if there's a way you can back it while doing more harm than good for it passing…"
"Marauders," McGonagall scoffed. "Trying to prank the Ministry now."
Dumbledore considered and said, "That might actually be possible. I shall begin talking to Wizengamot members and finding out whether there are any wedge issues that could be highlighted by Mr. Dresden to the disadvantage of the bill."
I shrugged my agreement with the plan, turning it into a stretch and looking around the room. I hadn't had much time to look the place over when I'd come through to take Penny to Manchester. Fawkes was sleeping on his perch, and looked much better, his burning day having come and gone, though he was still quite small compared to his full size. All the portraits of former headmasters watching us was disconcerting, but Dumbledore had silenced them for our discussion. I was very curious about several of the miscellaneous artifacts scattered around, that seemed more like magical machines than enchanted items. One of them was even occasionally puffing smoke like a miniature steam engine.
While I was looking around, he moved on, "And now, you suspect Mr. Nott of being our mystery Death Eater?"
I nodded, "The height and build check out, and he was glaring at me for the entire party."
The headmaster pursed his lips, eventually admitting, "Unfortunately, without further proof, there may be little we can do. He is one of the most slippery of the men that were once part of the organization. I shall place observers to try to catch him doing something illegal. At the very least, it should limit his ability to act against you further."
I huffed, "That's what I was worried about. How did so many Death Eaters get to just go back to their lives after the war?"
"Wealth and privilege," the old man shrugged apologetically. "We were never able to prove that the Dark Mark had to be willingly accepted with a clear mind, and Wizengamot members enjoy a great deal of protections originally designed to prevent the laws from being used to harass rival members of the government. This includes freedom from interrogation under Veritaserum, and other techniques." McGonagall and Remus were clearly annoyed, and Dumbledore put up his hands, "I still believe that they have legitimate uses. The machinations of the Dark would certainly use such tools against their rivals if not prevented by law."
McGonagall sighed, "Some days, it seems like everything designed to protect good people is just another shield that can be used by the bad."
"Alas," he agreed, "there is no bulwark that cannot be toppled upon those it defends. Yet we erect castle walls anyway, for they do more good than harm. Government is the same."
And that was it for the meeting, except for a little more small talk. I exited the descending magical staircase and started to head back to my room, but I got intercepted.
"Harry!" Maeve called, stepping out of an intersecting passageway. "You've been avoiding me."
I had been. Without the elaborate party dress showing off her body and a few glasses of wine softening up my willpower, it was a lot easier to shrug off her aura. Or, I worried, maybe she'd deliberately toned it down at school but could turn it back up whenever she wanted. Either way, since I didn't exactly know what she was well enough to know if I could fight her if I had to and because I was bound to avoid turning other people against her based on my suspicions, I'd been staying as far as possible from her. But my luck had run out. "The deal was keeping your secrets," I shrugged, grudgingly. "Doesn't mean I have to help whatever you're doing here."
"Such distrust. What did I ever do to you?" she asked, her face a mask of sadness that didn't reach her eyes, or her joking tone of voice. She'd put her numerous piercings back in, and she was clearly wearing some kind of muggle graphic t-shirt under her uniform robes, Doc Martens with poison-green laces kicking out rebelliously from under the hem.
The scary thing was, if I hadn't been forewarned, I'd probably think she was cool as hell, and worth hanging out with. If Tonks had leaned into the sexy punk-rock girl stereotype, Maeve had weaponized it. She'd been at school less than a month, and I'd already noticed her wrapping a fan club around her and not just in Slytherin. Seeing that no one was nearby in the hallways, I stopped and leaned against a wall, facing her, rather than making her walk and talk. "You, specifically? I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure months of Nevernever creatures trying to eat me and my friends were all about getting you here, though."
She didn't deny it, just gave me a non-genuine pout and said, "C'mon, Harry. You've been groomed for this. I've seen you wrapping Gryffindor and Ravenclaw around yourself, and you're not even trying. I'll grab Slytherin and Hufflepuff and we'll meet in the middle. It'll be worth your while." That last was said with a breathy Irish lilt, and she flared her aura a bit, causing me to heat up.
But part of that heating up was anger from her trying to manipulate me so obviously. "One, don't do that again, or I'll take it as an attack," I growled at her. "Two, what are you here for? Why do you want to make everyone at the school your friends?"
Her mien of being a laid-back rebel cracked after my first sentence, a glare of angry entitlement slipping out. I didn't think she liked not just getting her way. But she visibly forced it down, allowed the nonchalant cool girl vibe to settle in again, before explaining, "I can tell you honestly: I'm here to be the best representative of the school I can possibly be." She flipped her dreadlocks over a shoulder, and got ready to head out. "Think about it, Harry. I know you're not obligated to help me beyond keeping my confidence. So I'd owe you a favor, if you did."
"We'll see," I told her, and she sashayed off. If my guesses were right and she was a true sidhe from the other side of the Veil, incapable of lying, then what she'd said was true.
But what did it mean?
