CHAPTER SIXTEEN: MEETING WITH THE MINISTER


Cornelius Fudge sat at his desk reading the report of the documents sent to him. He sat them down and glowered at Malcolm.

"Do you honestly expect to get away with this nonsense?"

"Yes, Sir."

[Always show confidence. That's the way to win people over.]

"YOU ARE A BLASTED FOOL," Fudge shouted, causing the several people in the room to jump.

"I'm supposed to get a hearing," Malcolm pointed out. "So that I can explain myself."

"A hearing? You have already admitted to posting fraudulent documents and manipulating government officials to conduct an illegal and ludicrous action. As a courtesy to my good friend, Dolores Umbridge, I am conducting your sentencing personally instead of before the full council. Any explanation you can give is to determine why I should not send you to Azkaban."

"Cornelius," Amelia Bones interrupted. "We agreed that Azkaban was no place for a child."

Fudge snorted. "This boy is hardly a child. I think we should consider the idea, even if only as a last resort. You heard the boy. He admits his actions and wants to justify them."

"Then let him," Amelia said with authority. "He has that right. At least we'll learn why he did it."

The Minister frowned. "Go ahead boy. Make your excuses."

Malcolm took a deep breath. "The penultimate purpose of any wizard or witch, when they are interacting with the muggle world, is to keep magic a secret. For this, any means necessary may be used. I chose to use a method that involved using no magic, thus preventing the discovery of a magical creature living in a muggle environment."

"You must be joking?" Cornelius Fudge barked.

"No, sir. The house elf, Nob, was given into the custody of my parents. Having freed him, my parents were given the duty to see to his welfare, principally because of the age of the elf in question. Nob is five. When our family relocated to the British Isles, the Wizards Council agreed to accept the terms set by the American Department of Health and Human Services, Magical Families Division. This obligated my parents to continue to support Nob."

"Is this true, Amelia?"

Madame Bones nodded. "It was an experiment by the Americans to see how a house elf reacted to a normal family situation. It was considered a small detail since many wizarding families have elves." She paused. "Malcolm, you gave a legal justification for your actions. But that doesn't explain why they were necessary."

Malcolm smiled. "This is the easy part. Nob cast a spell on himself to make himself appear human. In the muggle world, it's one thing to hide a magical creature. It's another to hide a small boy. The people who see Nob are looking at five year old boy. As a result, Nob has to go to school, and do all of the other things that children are expected to do. And Nob has continued to remain in his human form. He even passed his health exam by the local doctor."

Malcolm paused as the whispering started. Percy Weasley looked up from where he was taking the minutes of the meeting. "Are you saying that your house elf used magic on a muggle?"

"No. Nob hasn't used any magic on anyone since he became human. Well, there was one instance, but it was beneficial, and that person was a wizard. He even thanked Nob. And that's why my father suggested the idea of muggle adoption. If the muggle authorities are convinced that he is their son, they will not give him a second thought. I mean, why should they. He's human. Even the doctor said so. And they'll have a piece of paper telling them who his mom and dad are."

Fudge smiled with a thought. "And what happens if he becomes a house elf again?"

"That's easy. If it's only for a little while, we tell people he's sick, but if it looks like it's permanent, we tearfully tell the police he disappeared. The worst case scenario is that his face appears on a milk carton while he goes to work at, say, Hogwarts. The point is that no magic is used in this solution, nor is the magical world compromised in any way. This is a muggle adoption and has no legal effect on Nob's status in the wizarding community."

"You are a clever boy," Fudge admitted. "But why did you take such an action and not inform the wizarding community of what you were doing."

"I did, Sir. Although I may not have done it properly. I Informed the American community, because I am still an American citizen."

"But you are a wizard, and your citizenship is not important. You are living here and you should have reported to the Ministry of Magic."

"I know now, Sir. And that was my only mistake. Part of the reason is because of precedents on solving such problems that involve my family. We always took action before informing the government, and we were usually complimented in our abilities to solve problems without the use of magic. I guess I got into the habit of acting on my own."

"That is still a serious charge in itself," Fudge said.

"If there are precedents?" Amelia Bones said with concern.

The Minister looked at her. "What? Oh, yes. That would be justification for independent action." He looked disappointed. "Malcolm, what evidence do you have?"

"I brought a witness, Sir. His name is David Winter, although he won't be in a good mood."

Cornelius Fudge looked at him with surprise. "David Winter is your witness?"

[They know each other? I'm dead.]

Fudge continued. "Do you mean to say that the new American Consul for Magic is your witness? I am deeply impressed."

"New?" Malcolm asked.

"Weasley, escort the witness into my office."

Percy stood up and walked to the door. He opened it to see a dour faced man standing there wishing he were anywhere else in the world. David Winter walked in and stood next to the defendant.

"What did you do this time, Malcolm?"

"Nothing. Really."

"I believe you."

"We're adopting Nob, but I need your help."

David Winter grinned. "Forget it. If this group doesn't sentence you to prison for life, I'll send you some of my Aunt Emily's homemade cookies and then force feed them to you."

"Thank you for being here, David," Fudge said, implying that they were already good friends. "Your young protege was not aware of your new duties. I am sure he appreciates your good fortune."

"Malcolm has never appreciated anything, not even his own good fortune. If you want my opinion, he is completely irresponsible and hopelessly . . . Um . . . Will he be thrown out of school by any chance?"

"There is that possibility."

"In that case please strike my last words from the record. This is a serious matter and I should not make frivolous remarks."

[I knew it. They still want to keep me out of the States.]

"Mr. Winter," Amelia Bones asked, "Malcolm claims that the current situation is the result of an effort to prevent the exposure of the world of magic by non-magical means, and that you could supply a precedent."

David Winter snorted. "Are you referring to the fact that Malcolm attends the Hogwarts Institute for Delusional Children?"

"Institute?"

"Malcolm has brothers who are incapable of keeping anything secret. Almost immediately, the entire neighborhood where his family lived was alive with stories of witches and wizards. His mother apologized for the stories and admitted that her son, Malcolm, had suffered a mental breakdown and was now institutionalized in a mental hospital in Europe. The result was that Malcolm could return home and talk freely about anything that happened at school, and every person he talked to would smile and say, 'that's nice'."

"The old ladies would even give me cookies and tell me how I reminded them of their father's." Malcolm smiled, but no one heard him because they were all laughing too hard.

"That was wonderful," Cornelius Fudge admitted. "Are there any other precedents?"

"Most recently, Malcolm had inadvertently trapped himself with a group of muggle school children to take part in an international competition. He had accidentally made a Wizard's Oath."

[They're laughing again.]

"It was resolved," David continued when everyone calmed down, "by the simple expedient of informing the authorities that Malcolm attended a different school."

"Pardon me," Percy Weasley said. "I remember hearing about that before I . . . I moved into my own flat. The British team won as a result. Is that correct?"

Malcolm flushed. "Well, the Chinese team had the most points but they were also disqualified, because of age violations. Two members of their team weren't old enough."

"We'll put that down as a British victory thanks to young Malcolm," Cornelius Fudge said expansively. "Was there anything else?"

David Winter smiled. "There are other minor examples of the family's talent to resolve problems without using magic. The older boy, Reese, who has no magical ability resolved an assault by magic by the expedient of throwing dirt in his opponent's eyes then grabbing his wand. As a result, several lesson plan in our Defense Against the Dark Arts courses now center on the use of non-magical techniques in combating magic. The younger brother, Dewey, when confronted by the . . . well, never mind, I think I've told you enough to get a clear picture."

"Mr. Winter," Malcolm asked. "Were you talking about the time that Dewey wet his pants?"

"Shut up, Malcolm."

"He wet his pants?" The Minister asked.

David Winter glared at Malcolm. "To tell the truth, he wasn't wearing any at the time. He actually managed to attack a dementor and cause him to retreat by the simple muggle method of refusing to be sad. It could be a family trait, because his brother Reese is immune to the effects of the dementors. Apparently Malcolm is not, because the dementor in question was attacking him and a school friend. It was when dementors were guarding Hogwarts. The two had wandered into it by mistake."

"I'm sorry to ask a miscellaneous question," Madame Bones said, "but what WAS Dewey wearing?"

"Nothing at all. It was a fixation of his at the time. Therefore his pants could not have been wet. However, I have been given it on good authority that it was Malcolm's pants that were wet."

"It was raining," Malcolm shouted, but no one heard him because they were laughing too hard.

"Congratulations, Malcolm," David Winter said as he went to leave. "They are going to keep you in school. That means I get to keep my new job." He actually smiled as he left.

Cornelius Fudge looked at Malcolm. "I think we have all of the facts. Malcolm, you may not leave this building but you do have my permission to go to the dining room to get something to eat at the Ministry's expense. Consider it as a last meal."

Malcolm left the office and closed the door behind him.

"What are you up to," David Winter demanded.

"Nothing," Malcolm explained. "Nob turned himself human. I was trying to help him fit in."

"You mean he cast an illusion?"

"No. He made himself human. We even had a doctor examine him. He passed all the tests."

"It's only an illusion, Malcolm. He is still an elf."

"He even passed the blood test."

"Impossible."

"I need to get something to eat," Malcolm said. "I'll try to explain as much as I know."

"I could use a cup of coffee," David admitted, as he followed Malcolm.

"How did you get this job?"

"My predecessor heard what you had done and resigned rather than have to deal with such an embarrassing incident after a long and distinguished career."

"And they picked you?"

"My superiors noted that I had successfully dealt with you on a number of occasions. The truth is, Malcolm, that you are an embarrassment to the American wizarding community, especially considering your family ties."

"The Malfoys? Why?"

David stopped in surprise. "You don't know? Malcolm, can you guess how many pureblood wizard families there are in the United States?" Malcolm shook his head. "None. Wizards left Europe to come to the New World for the same reason as everyone else. To start a new life. All of the pure blooded families were settled. They had no reason to emigrate. It was the Muggle-borns who came. The closest thing we have to a pureblood is the occasional windbag who brags that there have been wizards in his or her family for over two hundred years. Do you understand, Malcolm. They don't brag that their families have been wizards, but that their families have wizards."

Malcolm nodded. "And now I can brag that my grandfather was a pureblood."

"Exactly. And it gets worse. Dewey was placed in Slytherin House at your school. Before that happened, few people even knew about the houses at Hogwarts. Now every witch and wizard in the States knows."

Malcolm nodded again. Only purebloods are placed in Slytherin.

"What do I do?"

"Stay in school. Study hard. Then move to someplace that has never heard of you. Like Australia."

"They've heard of me," Malcolm said and began to explain.

"Don't. Please don't explain anything. It won't make things better. How much time do you have before you need to go back?"

"They didn't say. Minister Fudge told me to get something to eat and then return."

"Good. That means it won't be anything drastic. If they do keep you at the school you will only get detention, but you're used to that."

"I'm already on the permanent detention list. Nobody even need a reason anymore."

"And why is that," David asked without surprise.

"I walked out of my DADA class, then I walked out of my detention with the DADA teacher."

"And, if Albus explained things to me correctly, that was your excuse to come see me."

"Dumbledore told you everything?"

"He told me that you forged the letter you gave me. He was very discreet about our meeting, however. I understand he know longer enjoys the Minister's confidence."

"And the DADA Professor is the Minister's official snoop at the school."

Davis Winter fumed. "And you deliberately antagonized her? How smart are you supposed to be? You never do something like that. Someone like that is a troublemaker, and I'll wager that the only reason she isn't causing trouble for you is because Dumbledore has everyone else doing it. How could you be so stupid?"

David paused, as Malcolm did not say anything. "I know you too well, Malcolm. You're up to something and I'm going to figure it out. All of this, running out of class, adopting a house elf, deliberately antagonizing someone who could cause you great problems, it's all a smoke screen. I'm even willing to bet that you had something to do with Dewey getting into Slytherin."

Malcolm sighed. "Not really. I still haven't figured that one out yet."

"It is your style," David pointed out. "Perhaps you inspired a copycat? Are you still hungry?"

"Not really," Malcolm admitted. "Is it too early to go back in?"

"Look down the hall. You can see people coming out. They've obviously decided what to do. I'll walk you back if you like."

"Yeah. Thanks. You're not being nice, though. It's just that you want to find out what happens, first hand."

"Of course, Malcolm. But I can make it seem as though I'm being nice. People like someone who cares." David paused for effect. "Remember that the next time you try to make a friend."

David knocked, and Percy Weasley opened the door to let them in. Only the Minister and Madame Bones were still in the room. Malcolm was told to remain standing.

"You have caused a great many tongues to wag because of your previous actions, Malcolm, and this incident does not come as a surprise to many of us. We have discussed what to do about this and we came up with a temporary solution. We will be conducting a full investigation of everything you have told us. Depending upon the results, either the matter will be dropped by the Wizengamot, or you will be called in for a full hearing. That will not be for some time, however. Until then it has been decided that you should return to Hogwarts . . ." Fudge grinned. ". . . Institute to continue your education. We do have the principle of innocent until proven guilty."

Madame Bones spoke next. "This next decision was made by myself as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The pretext of muggle adoption will be permitted to continue as it does not specifically violate any of our laws. We will direct all persons involved to cooperate with muggle authorities as much as is possible without revealing ourselves to any of them." She looked sternly at Malcolm. "Any use of magic will result in severe repercussions. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Malcolm said softly.

"You may go, Malcolm," Cornelius Fudge said. "To make things easier for all of us, I have prepared a letter of explanation for the headmaster. You may deliver it yourself."

[That's the weird thing about Minister Fudge. He likes to order people around. He wants me to deliver his letter because he can actually order me to do it.]

"I'd be happy to, Sir," Malcolm said with surprising humility.

"I'll see him out, Minister," David offered and steered Malcolm out the door and to the elevator. "Congratulations, Malcolm. You made it."

"But the investigation?"

"Bureaucratic nonsense. No investigation is ever made unless the result is known beforehand. If they were going to hang you out to dry they would have dragged you away the instant you walked back in the room. Someone will ask a few questions, and that will be it." David paused. "What they might do, at least what I would do in this situation, is hand the investigation over to your DADA Professor. That way, if you cause any more problems they can still put you away without doing any of the paperwork."

"You mean Professor Umbridge. She'll be in charge of my investigation?'

David smiled. "Is that her name? Probably yes. You could read the letter and find out."

"I'll wait until I'm outside," Malcolm said. He smiled as David realizes he was telling the truth.

"I'll come with you. I am curious to see if I'm right."

He was.

Malcolm flew back to the school and into the open window of the headmaster's office. He stopped in mid flight when he saw Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk. Across from him were Professor McGonagall and Professor Umbridge. Malcolm landed with an extreme lack of style and handed the letter to the headmaster.

"Thank you, Malcolm. We are grateful that you decided to return after all. You were expected at least an hour ago."

"I ran into David Winter, Sir. He offered to buy me lunch. We went to a muggle restaurant."

"Then you are forgiven. We would not want to offend the new American Consul. In the meantime, the Minister saw fit to inform myself and Professor Umbridge about the results of your meeting. I am sure you have guessed who will be in charge of your investigation?"

Malcolm looked at Professor McGonagall who shook her head no.

[He could have changed his mind.]

"Hem. Hem."

"I am sure Professor Umbridge will be completely fair in her assessments."

Dumbledore expressed mock surprise. "Malcolm, that was a completely respectful statement. I didn't know you had it within you."

"We will talk later," Professor Umbridge said. "I have already interviewed my first student, and I promised Dewey that I would return to hear everything else he wanted to tell me. He has been most informative."

Professor Umbridge left the office smiling broadly.

[She looks like a Cheshire Dog.]

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "It seems, Malcolm, that you did not prove your point. You lost your wager."

Malcolm smiled. "The Minister acknowledged that Nob was human, and no one contradicted him. His specific words after I explained about the adoption were as follows: 'And what happens if he becomes a house elf again?'"

Dumbledore smiled. "It is a fine legal point, Malcolm. Perhaps too fine a point. And the matter is not yet closed."

"Then I haven't lost the bet. At least, not yet."

Professor McGonagall interrupted. "What is this bet you are referring to?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Malcolm wagered that he could prove that Nob was human. I believe you have met his foster brother?"

"I have, and I have seen the more recent picture of him. Did you actually accept the terms of the wager?"

"I did not. But I did agree to hear the terms of the wager. Malcolm?"

"It's simple. At least it was simple until Fudge decided to wait for a report. Now I may never actually win."

McGonagall returned Dumbledores smile and turned to Malcolm. "Tell us your terms, anyway. In view of the fact that you are still attending school here, you do deserve that much."

"Okay. What I wanted was this. To be free of automatic detentions at least every other weekend, and two nights a week. I need the nights to be able to get my homework done, And the weekends because I do need some free time."

"I think that is a reasonable request," Professor McGonagall said. "You do most of your tutoring on weekends, however. I would change it so that you have every Sunday free. Out of generosity, I will also add Hogesmeade weekends, depending your tutoring. You will need a permission slip from your parents"

"They already said no, but why are you agreeing? I didn't win the bet?"

"There is no need," Professor McGonagall told him. "Despite your stupidity with Professor Umbridge you have shown yourself to be the responsible young man. It is refreshing and should be encouraged. Was that all you wanted?"

Uh, no. There were other things. Like Professor Snape's class. He actually has me teaching the lessons. I think I should be called a teaching assistant instead of a student aide. Also, I'd like credit for what I am doing, so that it's on record that I didn't drop out of the DADA class because I was lazy or something."

"Done," Dumbledore said.

"That means that I can give detentions, as well as give and take house points?"

"Subject to review by the teaching supervisor," Dumbledore said. "Because I am the headmaster, that would be me, Malcolm. You don't have to be afraid to give points to Gryffindor or take them from Slytherin, provided they are deserved. What else did you want."

Malcolm looked up in surprise. "It's about Professor Umbridge. I know she hates me for leaving her class and getting away with it. And I know she'd like to use me as an owl when she has something nasty to say about me or the school and she wants to put it in writing."

"We will tell her to use one of the school owls."

"No, Sir. I want you to let her keep using me. That way I can read what she's saying about me."

McGonagall laughed. "Let him, Albus. I want to know what she is saying as well."

"Very well," Albus grinned. "But, again, there are conditions. You must only deliver the letters and return immediately. There are to be no side excursions or I will inform Professor Umbridge of that fact. Is that understood."

"Yes, Sir."

"Is there anything else?"

"I would ask about sending Dewey to another school but I don't think you'd agree to that." Dumbledore shook his head. "Then that's all."

Malcolm left Dumbledore's office in a strange mood. He didn't know whether to be glad, sad or mad.

[When I even get myself feeling like this, I know I had a good day.]