'It was the most awesome thing I've ever seen,' James told everyone who would listen, even twenty-four hours after their Professor's sudden departure to the land of the not-quite-so-dead-as-you-would-expect. 'Binns swept into the classroom as if nothing had happened - and it was Binns, only that...'
'...only that he was all shiny and t-transparent and not wearing his glasses,' said Balbina thoughtfully. 'You mentioned it. And Lily t-told him what was g-going on?'
'She didn't dare at first,' Remus said quietly. 'None of us did. He looked as though he was perfectly all right with this new state of his. Only that we all know him and did suspect he hadn't actually noticed.'
'He is like that, isn't he?' grinned James.
Balbina nodded. She was in a rather good mood today, having listened to several of James's stories instead of attending her usual Friday afternoon Transfiguration lesson. Naturally, as the headmaster still had not decided to hire a temporary substitute teacher for the subject.
'I expect,' she remarked, looking around in good humour, trying to find what the other two boys were doing at the moment. She spotted Peter under his bed, trying to pull out a few sweets that had rolled under it the previous day. The rest of the room seemed empty, except that the curtains of Sirius's four-poster were drawn and moving from time to time as their owner shifted in his seat, obviously not following their conversation.
'Oy,' said James loudly and even Remus threw an interested look into Sirius's general direction.
'Hey, S-Sirius,' said Balbina, grinning slightly. 'You're awfully q-quiet. I get nervous when you're around but d-don't speak. It's just not you.'
'How do you know what's me and what isn't?' came the grumpy voice of Sirius Black from behind the curtains of his four-poster. 'Besides, I rarely talk when I'm reading.'
'What are you reading?' enquired Balbina curiously.
'Deborah Whitehorn's Annual Transfiguration Guide,' replied the young Pureblood sourly. 'Shut up.'
The conversation went back to Binns, as many conversations in any of the four common rooms did these days.
'What d'you reckon happened to him?'
James threw a tired look at his werewolf friend. 'Remus, really. What good's all that speculation going to do? Don't you think people will solve the matter very soon? My dad's on it, you know. And he says you cannot tell what happened cause Binns can't remember a thing. Old fool, he says. Should be watching what kinds of people he surrounds himself with. Especially with Robertson around, in possession of the key to the potions ingredients stock.'
'You think Robertson's g-got something t-to do with it?'
'Well, he poisoned McGonagall, didn't he?'
'But he never tried to hush up the existence of the lab,' remarked Remus quietly, making Balbina turn to give him a thoughtful look. 'Don't you think Dumbledore would've took action if he'd learned about Robertson brewing illegal potions there?'
'That was a stupid assumption anyway,' said James angrily. 'He could just have done it in his private quarters if he'd wanted to poison anyone. We're idiots just jumping to conclusions about people we don't like.'
'I expect we'll soon f-find out. Dumbledore's investigating the matter,' said Balbina yawningly. 'And s-so's your father. Or why's he still hanging around?'
'He's busy with the Binns case,' replied James matter-of-factly, 'but if the two cases are linked -'
'You are an idiot, Potter,' came a voice from behind the veil of Black's four-poster. 'The two cases are not 'linked'. The person who poisoned Binns did it by accident. McGonagall was supposed to die.'
'P-personally, I s-s-suspect Malfoy in that matter,' started Balbina, but James cut her off.
'What do you mean it was an accident?' he snarled, glaring at the veil behind which, Balbina was sure, Black had put away his lecture and was glaring back challengingly.
There was no reply for some time. Eventually, the shuffling of papers told the three boys and Balbina that Sirius had got hold of another magazine and was now involved in his reading again. Remus grinned, throwing a short side-glance at James, and even Balbina could not help but notice the dark cloud appearing over young Potter's slightly self-important facial expression.
'He's a show-off,' growled James, looking at Balbina, shrugging, and then turning his back to the now motionless four-poster. 'Let him stay behind his veil. He knows nothing anyway. But I think you were going to tell us about the basic training?'
'Yes,' said Balbina quickly. 'The b-basics. G-good of you to remind me. I b-b-believe Peter hasn't heard about them?'
Peter Pettigrew shook his head, as silently as ever. James rolled his eyes.
'The b-basic t-training,' said Balbina, turned to him, 'is a p-preparation course for p-people who want to go into either an Auror's c-career or become soldiers in the wizarding army. Their number has greatly d-diminished during the past few years, but there is still five to seven applicants who are t-taken on each year.'
'Of the fifty who are stupid enough to apply,' added the voice behind the veil. Balbina side-glanced.
'You could p-put it like that,' she said softly. 'T-traditionally,' she went on, facing Peter again, 'children from P-Pureblood families are sent to try out, no matter how suited they might b-be for the job. Working for the community's c-constabulary force, or the army even, is p-promising in terms of honour and general acceptance. Of c-course,' she added, 'it is rather well p-paid, too.'
'You forget that people think there isn't much else to do,' came from behind the veil and Balbina looked up, slightly annoyed, about the renewed disturbance.
'Naturally,' she admitted after a while. 'That is a general p-problem.' And to Peter she said, 'Our k-kind are worried because there aren't enough jobs that remain exclusively within our world. Most jobs we have involve g-going out and dealing with Muggles as well as witches or wizards. That is why Muggle Studies is g-gaining more and more acceptance, even among the older generations. P-people realise that we have to g-go out and meet them. Then again, jobs within the Ministry or the army are much favoured, of course. And much b-better paid.'
'You said there were going to be changes?' enquired James curiously. Balbina nodded.
'Lots. They are planning to c-cut off the Aurors' training ent-t-tirely. It... is about the same as the soldiers' really, but the Ministry have d-decided that if B-Bagnold wants human law enforcement, Bagnold's g-going to pay for human law enforcement. And for the t-training and all. She's strictly against letting D-Dementors into Azkaban, you see. You would have heard about the d-dispute. It's been going on for ages now. Well, naturally no single person could afford to p-pay all the Aurors out there, so now they're discussing to go p-p-private with the lot. The problem being that some p-people think the wizarding prison will be a place of b-bribery and c-corruption if that should come to p-pass.'
'Thinking, quite rightly, that people like the Malfoys will rise to uncontrolled power if they are given the chance to gain control over the constabulary,' said Sirius, for the first time today standing in front of them, a copy of The Daily Prophet tightly in his hand. 'Look at this.'
He thrust the yellow piece of parchment in Balbina's hand, who frowned and passed it on to James, saying, 'Read aloud. P-please'
James read.
'Aurors Appalled
A decree released by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement this week evoked new criticism among those who have been watching Bartemius Crouch's (Minister, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement) recent activities with concern rather than approval. On Thursday morning, members of the Ministry officially declared that all human statute officers in Azkaban are to replaced by Dementors by the end of the year. The reason for this, says Crouch, lies with the acute emergency situation in various parts of the country, with assaults on civilians in a number of Muggle settlements and even a few deaths, caused by the so-called 'Knights of Walpurgis'. The group of youths, who have lodged a claim to rid the country of all Muggles and 'revive our rightful reign over the risible rats' (anonymous Knight), had declared themselves responsible for a number of minor attacks on Muggle-born wizards and witches in early January this year, making it plain that they demand to be treated with respect and, more importantly, that their philosophy ought to be taken seriously. 'It is for the country's own good,' says a further anonymous member in a recent letter to the Ministry, pointing out that 'no bloodline could stand the number of intrusions by Muggle filth' these days and that 'Bagnold's blatant misuse of her position will be our downfall eventually'.
Meanwhile, the community's opinion about the so-called Knights is parted. Whereas people like Albus Dumbledore (headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry) insist on the importance of this matter and keeps listening to the unfounded accusations and preposterous suggestions of the Knights, other people more commonly think of them as 'a mere bunch of our teenagers gone wild' (Colonel Lance Snape, former Commissioner of the stationary troops in Azkaban), whom, it must be noted, yet no one these days seems capable of getting under control.
Problematically, not only the community's nondisclosure is at stake in this matter, but the safety of all Muggles and wizarding folk will be endangered if these attacks continue, according to Crouch. He therefore advocated the adoption of his new approach as early as possible.
On a further note, the decree introduces new powers for the Aurors in terms of attacking and narrows their general training down to three years rather than five. Something, which not only Crouch's enemies regard with worry.'
James lowered the Daily Prophet slowly, looking up at Sirius thoughtfully.
'A bunch of teenagers, ey?' he said.
Sirius did not reply. He took the newspaper from James's hands and turned to Balbina.
'And now an intelligent statement,' he said.
'N-not a word about the funding,' said Balbina after a short moment's thought. 'Meaning they are probably settling it on the quiet.'
Sirius nodded and maintained an expectant silence.
'What k-kind of attacking powers?' continued Balbina. 'And why's their training cut? Not to mention that they won't start until they're what... eighteen, if I'm not mistaken?'
James frowned. 'This smells like a compromise. A bloody agreement between Millicent bloody Bagnold and Marius Malfoy's oversized wallet,' he said darkly. Sirius turned to him.
'Finally,' he said, looking earnest. 'A valuable contribution.'
When the small group entered his office, Albus Dumbledore sensed at an instant that something was wrong. Just how right he was he found out only seconds later when the white shape of one of the castle's many ghosts hovered through the door, which Hamish McGillivray seemed to have closed behind himself only seconds ago. The ghost looked around, not at all disturbed about this rather impolite gesture as it seemed, still managed to shoot something like a death glare in the direction of Minerva McGonagall's elderly father, and then sat down in front of Albus's desk, or - what appeared to be sitting. Meanwhile, the little group of Ministry representatives stood around rather uselessly. Albus, on the other hand, touched the brim of his half-moon spectacles and pushed them lightly to the tip of his crooked nose, surveying the remains of his former history professor not without interest.
'May I ask what happened to you, Beathan?'
'I suddenly woke up without my body,' said Professor Binns, seeming to find it obvious that these things did occasionally happen. 'Everyone dies, don't they? I just happen to have made provisions. That is all.'
'And I am sure that happened the legal way, too,' remarked Mrs. McGillivray cynically, speaking aloud what her tight-lipped husband was probably thinking.
'In fact,' said Professor Binns loudly, 'there is no official regulation for becoming a ghost after one's death, seeing as the area of responsibility cannot accurately be determined. But I am sure you knew that already.'
He earned himself a pointedly warning look from both, Vesta and Hamish McGillivray, then turned back towards the headmaster, apparently unconcerned.
'Beathan,' said Albus thoughtfully, 'when did you last see yourself in the mirror as a human being?'
Professor Binns considered.
'In the evening,' he said eventually. 'Well, it wasn't exactly a mirror, but I expect that is not what you're asking.'
'What did you see yourself in?'
'It was the reflection of the liquid inside my tea cup,' said the ghost, sounding very matter-of-factly. 'While I was reading in the library. I...'
'Liquid?' said one of the Ministry members and Alastor Moody, who had placed both hands on Albus's desk in an attempt to get a closer watch on Professor Binns, rose slightly to cross both arms in front of his chest.
'The library?'
'I was reading,' repeated the ghost impatiently. 'It happens in my profession, you know.'
'What were you reading?'
'Spell Origins. By Filo Logius,' said Binns grumpily. 'Anyway, I cannot remember seeing anyone and I definitely know that there was no one around to poison my... the liquid.'
'Old boozer,' came from some member of the small group and one or two sniggered.
'Isn't it true that a large amount of alcohol can kill a man?' remarked Vesta McGillivray dryly. 'It seems, Beathan, that your drinking habits finally got onto you.'
'Don't be ridiculous!' snarled the ghost, attempting a derisive glare. 'I have not been drunk since your brother-in-law's most recent drinking bout.'
Albus knew instinctively that he was lying. Beathan Binns had not once been invited to Angus McGillivrays birthday celebrations, so much was certain.
'I summarise,' he said now, folding his hands on top of his desk, gazing around at all those present, alive or dead. 'Someone inside the castle is trying to poison someone else inside the castle. Very likely The same two persons. The murderer, or - attempted murderer is a skilled potions brewer or very lucky - or both,' he added as an afterthought, giving Alastor Moody a tired, very thoughtful look. The Auror cleared his throat, as thoughtfully, and crossed his large, uniformed arms in front of his chest.
'Minerva McGonagall is very likely not the target of this operation,' he said, but nor is Professor Binns here.'
'What makes you think that he isn't?' said Alexander Fumes, who was standing behind the three Aurors, next to the shelf where Albus kept his more valuable belongings. He looked angry, but, then again, he always did, the headmaster resolved. The McGillivrays seemed as doubtful.
'I am sure there are various reasons for killing Beathan,' said Minerva's mother, failing to make this sound like a joke.
'Not for the students,' said Alastor gruffly, 'and anyway, the assault cannot have been planned for him because he was not supposed to be in the library last night, were you, Beathan?'
Several pairs of eyes turned to him. Including the ghost's, who frowned.
'I wasn't... what?'
'You were not supposed to be in the library,' stated Moody simply. 'You were supposed to be leading a seventh year study group in one of the classrooms on the third floor. And everyone expected you to be there that evening. Not in the library.' He grinned. Binns remained motionless as comprehension dawned to him.
'Darn!'
'Still as reliable as ever?' remarked Mrs. McGillivray dryly and Albus shot her a quick, warning look. You had to mind what you said when there were ghosts around.
'I have lots on my hands,' said the ghost grumpily, 'and anyway. That's none of your business, Vesta.'
'We shall have to investigate on the cause of your death, Beathan,' said Albus quietly, pointedly interrupting the conversation. 'And we shall have to think about filling the vacancy.'
'What vacancy?' said the ghost, sounding surprised. Albus hesitated just for a moment.
'You wish to maintain your current place within the Hogwarts staff?' he concluded. Beathan frowned.
'Is that a question? Does my current state provide any difficulties for anyone involved? I don't think so! I am as fully equal to teaching as I have ever been.'
'That exactly is the headmaster's worry,' remarked Mrs. McGillivray dryly. Some of the others grinned.
'Please,' said Albus tiredly. 'I know you must be distressed, but...'
'I apologise,' said Mrs. McGillivray quickly. 'We need to get on with the matter.'
'I agree,' said Fumes. 'We need to find out who is behind all this. And quickly. I daresay we have enough problems already with those 'Knights' out there.'
Several of the others nodded in weary agreement.
'I trust you to investigate on the library matter,' said Albus quietly, nodding at the three Aurors. 'And on that 'liquid'. Look around for anything that could be of value in this matter. And don't forget - the students are not to know anything for now. This may be more complicated than it sounds.
'What about the Robertson case?' said Alastor Moody quietly.
'Later,' replied Albus, feeling slightly exhausted by the many expectant looks on his face.
'For now, we shall have to concentrate on the library. 'Anything else I should have mentioned?' He looked around, seeing people shake their heads slowly. Only Hamish McGillivray seemed restless. He frowned at his wife, then at Albus, then pulled his hands out of the pocked of his dark waistcoat slowly (which he was wearing on top of a perfectly traditional set of wizarding robes), and crossed his arms.
'The Corbie?'
'Of course!' said Albus quickly. 'You will want to know about Minerva's well-being...' he threw a worried glance at the McGillivrays and some of the others, pulling his beard thoughtfully. 'Well, the problem is that no one seems to know the exact ingredients of the potion that caused her current state. It seems that similar effects of potions on human beings have been known and tested, but not this exact one and... nothing that could reverse it.' He sighed. 'It is rather unfortunate, I am afraid. But unless we find the culprit of the attack... I cannot guarantee that she will ever come back to life.'
