[The following week, Oval Office.]
"Charlie!"
In the adjoining room, Charlie frowned, closed a notebook and went to the door of the Oval Office.
"Yes Mr. President?"
"Come in here my boy." Charlie came in warily. "Close the door, please." He closed the door.
"Mr. President?"
"You may call me Dumbledore."
"Ahem... okay. Do you need anything, sir?" Bartlet looked pointedly at Charlie. "....err, Dumbledore."
"Yes, it's about Harry Potter."
"Is he coming for dinner?"
Bartlet looked at Charlie disapprovingly.
"So, Charlie, tell me. People are betting on who will read it in Latin, aren't they?"
"Well they were, but then everyone realized the only one who could read it was—"
"Leo."
"Leo, yes. So now everyone is betting on when Leo will read it."
"Ahh. I see. Who's is charge of the pool?"
"Actually, I am. Jointly with Donna."
"Put me down for next Wednesday."
"That's in three days. You are aware that Leo hasn't even begun the books in English."
"I know." Bartlet replied with a dangerously determined and mischievous look.
"Okay." Charlie was impressed. Two aides had placed their bets on that day, but had considered their money lost. "Two others are down for that day, so you need to be more specific. What time: morning, afternoon, or night?"
"By the first senior staff meeting."
"Is there anything else, Mr. President?"
"Could you get Leo in here?"
"Yes sir. But remember, no cheating. You can't tell him about the pool, and you can't threaten to fire him either."
"That is all, Charlie." Charlie left the room, and called Margaret to ask Leo to talk to the president, wondering who would win.