March/April 1996.
"By order of the Ministry of Magic: Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The above is in accordance with Educational Degree Number Twenty-eight."
What with all these dark wizards running around killing people and trying to take over the world, one would almost forget that at the same time, the Ministry of Magic was trying to take over the largest (and only, for that matter) magical school in Great-Britain.
They went about it fairly quietly, to be honest. Umbridge being appointed High Inquisitor had reached the newspapers, but as the only ones directly afflicted were the teachers and students at Hogwarts, and as she seemed to do nothing much worse than inspect the teachers, the rest of the country had shrugged it off as nothing more than a Ministry employee having made a new step in her career, and they had quickly forgotten about it. Not the Hogwarts staff, however. Umbridge was an everyday reality for them, and her putting professor Trelawney on probation (a power she had as High Inquisitor) hinted at things to come.
Umbridge took her time. Sybill Trelawney was put on probation in October, a few weeks after the High Inquisitor had inspected her class, and then, mysteriously, virtually ignored her for months. Hagrid was put on probation in January, but that too didn't seem to be followed by anything more severe. Umbridge seemed to be biding her time, but for what? It puzzled everyone involved until, in March, she made her first, unsuspected move: she fired Trelawney and ordered her off the Hogwarts grounds.
"Of course, in hindsight, it was only too obvious that Sybill was the first to go," said professor McGonagall bitterly that same evening, as she recounted the events to the Weasleys, Remus, Sirius, Kingsley and Tonks. "Excuse my language, but there was – in my opinion – no denying that she did not have the Sight, as illustrious as her great-great-grandmother may have been, and despite her two real predictions." This last comment was a reluctant nod to Dumbledore, who was sitting at the kitchen table. He didn't react – he seemed to be lost in thoughts.
Dumbledore had spoken very little the last few hours. He was still trying to figure out how to continue his plans after these sudden changes, although he would never confess it. Nobody would know how he was struggling to take care of several things at once, like some mad balancing act. He was of the opinion that they didn't need to know. It would only add extra worries to the ones they already had. Things were still working out so far, and so he almost recklessly went on, depending on his skill at improvising, his quick thinking and his almost unbelievable luck. When he had gone to the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, that afternoon, he had had no idea of Umbridge's plans. He had been lucky that it had been that day that Firenze decided that his position in the herd was untenable and that he'd better seek shelter at Hogwarts – ironically enough, he had been kicked out of the herd exactly because he had agreed to work for Dumbledore. They had never exactly specified what his work for Dumbledore was going to be, but Firenze hadn't hesitated when the Headmaster had asked him to teach Divination. Dumbledore was well aware that this move would not make him popular with the Ministry, but he resolved to worry about that later. Right now he should be grateful that Sybill Trelawney was still at Hogwarts, kept away and well guarded from any Death Eater who would get the unholy idea to kidnap her, to hear the entire prophecy concerning Voldemort and Harry Potter.
"The question is now," Remus continued the conversation, wisely avoiding the matter of whether Trelawney was a true Seer or a true fraud, because if they began discussing that it would only end in arguments, "what Umbridge is going to do next."
"Or which teacher she's going to sack next," Tonks added helpfully.
"To put it very bluntly, yes."
"The next ones to go are obviously those that don't agree with the Ministry's ideas," said McGonagall. "In other words, me, Filius, Severus –"
"They wouldn't sack you," Remus said before he could check himself. "You're too good a teacher."
She gave him a look that quite obviously said 'you're licking my boots now, and we both know it. It doesn't suit you'. He shut up, but only because she wanted him to – he still thought her one of the best teachers he'd ever had.
"If disagreeing with the Ministry's ideas is a reason to sack you," came Arthur Weasley quietly, "then what are the odds of replacing the Headmaster?"
This remark was followed by a shocked silence, as everybody thought about this. Remarkably enough (or not, given the person), Dumbledore was the only one who seemed to stay calm, almost indifferent. It was a scenario he considered to be practically a given: sooner or later Cornelius Fudge would think him too much of a nuisance, and replace him with someone more to his liking. The only thing he wondered was when it would happen.
"Fudge can't just switch Headmasters," said Kingsley Shacklebolt eventually. "Not right now, anyway. This sudden change of staff will be too abrupt a change, and he can't risk suddenly turning the entire school upside down." The way he said this, calmly, with his deep voice, was comforting to all.
"Exactly," Dumbledore said, voicing a conviction he did not feel. "Cornelius cannot risk loosing too much stability, especially not now, what with the wizarding world getting more convinced that Voldemort has returned. He will lie low for now."
For now, he thought, as he watched the others smile in relief: if Dumbledore said it, it must be true. But it will be only a matter of weeks.
It was about four weeks later.
The Aurors at the Headquarters – who were almost always working late – had developed a habit of appointing one of them to order take-away for them all, instead of all going at different times. The Muggles catering to them all wondered why such a huge group of people were ordering so frequently, but they weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth and put themselves out of business, so they stacked huge amounts of plastic bags and were always prepared for a large order around seven o'clock. They also made a habit of ignoring the fact that one or two bags always seemed to sort of float next to the person ordering, instead of being carried.
Back at the Ministry, it was simply a matter of shouting loudly who ordered what, and giving the right package of food to the right person. Distributing food like that wasn't perhaps very orderly, but hardly anything at the Ministry was, and it gave a sort of festive feel to the whole thing.
The same routine was followed on the evening of the fifth of April. They had decided on Chinese take-away for tonight, and so Kingsley sat at his desk, eating rather soggy noodles with a little plastic fork. He much preferred eating at home, eating food he'd cooked himself with proper utensils.
As he ladled his stringy dinner unceremoniously into his mouth, he once again studied the photos on the walls around him, as he had done so often before. Finding Sirius Black – or, rather, not finding him – was getting harder and harder. The longer he kept this charade up, the closer he was getting to being found out. Evidence was getting harder to make up, and the imaginary Sirius couldn't keep moving from country to country, forever only just escaping capture. Real-life Sirius wasn't helping much either: the last few times Kingsley had asked where he was to send the fugitive next, he had got an disinterested "where-ever you please" for an answer.
As the Auror looked at the pictures before him, he pondered the drama almost playing out in front of him. A group of friends that had been so tight-knit, two of which would literally give their lives for one another, one who'd found his only friends in the other three. Then there were of course Harry and Lily Potter – the former of which might be said to be the centre of it all. But the truly elusive figure, the one whom Kingsley thought to be the key to understanding the complete mystery, was the one who would end up betraying them all: exactly the one who featured the least on all the photos pinned on the walls. Peter Pettigrew was almost always barely visible on the photos, if he was there at all. He was the small, somewhat skinny boy with the thin, mouse-coloured hair on the classpictures, the one sitting as close to James as Sirius would allow it; he was the pale or sunburned boy who, on the beach with his three friends, would sit hidden in the shadow of the parasol, barely visible, while the others were sitting in the full glare of the sun; Pettigrew was the one conspicuously absent on the photos made after the Marauders had left Hogwarts – he was there at the grouppicture made at the Potter's wedding, the mousy boy having grown into a pale, mousy young man; and finally, there was one picture of him standing, nervously and slightly embarrassedly, next to underwhelmed Remus and an exuberant Sirius who was holding an infant Harry as if there was nothing more precious in the entire world. After that, Pettigrew had literally disappeared.
Kingsley's thoughts were interrupted by a short, polite knock on the wall of his cubicle. He turned around and saw one of his colleagues, Dawlis, smiling somewhat sheepishly at him.
"Fudge wants to see us," he said.
"Why?" Kingsley asked, putting his dinner down and getting to his feet.
"He didn't explain," Dawlish said. "Probably something the rest doesn't need to know."
The two Aurors thus walked out of the maze of cubicles that was the Auror Headquarters, past the elevators and down a hallway until they reached a spacious office: the Minister for Magic's own office. Being the most important man in the British magical world, Fudge had the biggest office in the building. No cramped room for him: his desk was big and Kingsley could actually see that the wood was polished because the tabletop wasn't covered with papers, unlike his own desk. Of course Fudge had windows, rather large ones too, which at the moment showed the sun setting. Portraits and pictures of his family and himself adorned the wall, and instead of a filing cabinet Fudge had an actual bookcase in his office. Intricate magical objects were placed here and there in the office, although Kingsley suspected that most of them were more for show than for actual use. After all, Fudge had an image to uphold.
The Minister himself was sitting after at his desk, writing something on a sheet of parchment but looking up when Kingsley and Dawlish entered the room. He got up, clearly enthusiastic to see them.
"Ah, there you are," he said. He gestured towards the door. "Please, close the door." As Dawlish did so, Fudge took the sheet of parchment he had been writing on.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, "it turns out that tonight, we received very interesting information indeed."
He fell silent for a moment, to allow Kingsley or Dawlish to react, but they said nothing, waiting for Fudge to continue. After a few moments, he did.
"You are of course aware that the situation at Hogwarts has been… worrying of late. Dear Dolores Umbridge was trying her best to manage things, but she reports that the staff has been reluctant at best, and the students not much better. It seemed like they were being incited by Harry Potter, who kept spreading nonsense about You-Know-Who having returned – well, you must have heard. The situation is quickly becoming unmanageable. Tonight, however, we're going to put an end to it all by removing Potter from Hogwarts."
"We're going to arrest him?" Kingsley said, sounding calmly but inwardly deeply worried. Harry being kicked out of Hogwarts was something nobody had really anticipated. "What for?"
Fudge waved the sheet of parchment. "It turns out that Potter has been violating Educational Degree Number Twenty-four, and not just once, but several times." He nearly bounced with glee. "As you may recall, that particular Degree prohibited the formation of any club, society or organisation that was not first approved by the High Inquisitor. That included Quidditch teams, Gobstones clubs, chess clubs – you know, the regular school activities. Most of them were eventually approved again by Dolores, except for one, that Potter conveniently didn't ask permission for."
"What kind of group?" Kingsley asked, getting annoyed with Fudge's habit of beating around the bush. Get to the point already.
"An association that secretly practised to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts," Fudge said. "They met every week or so to actively learn how to stun people and do all kinds of dangerous things expressly forbidden by Ministry rules."
"Do you have evidence for that?" Dawlish asked. Kingsley was glad his colleague asked it – showing too much interest in Potter's doing would get suspicious.
"I have a letter, here – " Fudge took another, light pink, sheet of parchment from his desk, "– from Dolores. Apparently one of the students who attended the meetings was so wise to realise that what they were doing was illegal, and she reported it to Dolores. Dolores of course immediately wrote to me. Potter and his group were to meet again this evening, but they will get a nasty surprise indeed." Fudge laughed nastily. "Potter, of course, as the leader of the group, will have no choice but to leave the school. It was about time he learned that his ways of acting are not appreciated. Dumbledore may give in constantly, but Potter should learn that is not the way the world works. It's time to grow up. Ah, Weasley!"
Kingsley turned around rather sharply. The Weasley that came in, however, was not Arthur nor Bill. It was a redhead for sure, build stocky like the twins and Molly and with glasses on his nose like Arthur, but apart from that he stood out from the rest of his family. His robes were neatly ironed – there were streaks in them even after a day of working –, he seemed to have a constant frown on his face, and he was in absolute adoration of Fudge. Kingsley was sure that this was Percy, the only Weasley who had not chosen Dumbledore's side.
"Minister," he said pompously, "I have the requested parchment, ink and quill. Miss Umbridge has written back that she expects us. I think we're ready to go."
"Very good, Weasley!" Fudge nearly bounced. "Ready, Shacklebolt? Dawlish?"
Dawlish nodded, but Kingsley excused himself, saying that he needed to get his cloak first. He got out of the office, then hurried back to his cubicle as fast as he could without raising suspicion. This was far worse than any of them could have expected. They had been sure that the Ministry's aim had been to get rid of the teachers, the adults with real power to act against them. Harry had seemed like not much of a threat, especially since so few people seemed to believe him – before the interview anyway. And now Fudge was going to Hogwarts personally to arrest Potter. This wasn't just some annoyance, this was dead serious.
He arrived at his cubicle and quickly fled into it. The most important question now was: how to contact Dumbledore without anyone noticing? The Order did have a way of contacting one another, but it was done with a spell, and that was fairly suspicious, especially in the middle of the Ministry of Magic, when one only had a few seconds to spare.
Fortunately, the answer walked into his cubicle.
"Kingsley, here're the reports you asked for," Tonks said, holding the sheets of parchment out to him. "It's getting late, I'm going ho–" She abruptly held her tongue because he clamped a hand over her mouth. She stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Quiet," he said softly. "Emergency. Fudge is going to Hogwarts to arrest Harry. I have to come with him. Alert someone when you're outside. Hurry." He let go of her and he said, continuing in a normal tone so that the Aurors in the cubicles next to him wouldn't get suspicious: "thanks a lot Tonks, I needed those. I'll look into them tomorrow."
She still looked a little shocked, but recovered quickly – she wasn't an Auror for nothing. "Of course," she said. "It's getting too late to continue working anyway. I'll see you tomorrow!" She waved at him, nodding clearly to show him she had understood him. They left the cubicle together, parting at the elevators. The last thing Kingsley saw of Tonks was her frantically pushing the buttons of the elevator, trying to force it to come quicker. He himself walked as slowly as he could, deliberately trying to give Tonks as much time as possible. If only Dumbledore knew what was coming – he'd surely find a way to let Harry stay at Hogwarts…
Unlike her boss, Tonks wasn't one to waste much time delivering a message. In fact, she could be considered a little too abrupt.
"Fudge is going to Hogwarts to kick Harry out," she blurted out as she rushed into the kitchen at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Her audience reacted as expected.
Sirius swore loudly and jumped to his feet, unable to remain seated. Molly let out a loud gasp of surprise, and Arthur abruptly put his goblet down, almost toppling it over.
"Why?" Sirius barked at Tonks. Even though she was a dearly loved relative, everything had to step aside when Harry was at danger.
"I don't know – " Tonks began.
"How can you know who is going to do what and where he's going to do it, but not know why?" he demanded. "Who told you this anyway?"
"Kingsley did," she explained. "Fudge has ordered him and Dawlish – another Auror – to come with him to Hogwarts. Kingsley asked me to alarm the rest of the Order."
"Does Dumbledore know this already?" Arthur asked, a worried frown on his face.
"I alerted him as soon as I was out of the Ministry," she assured him. "Which was about fifteen minutes ago."
Sirius growled with frustration and began pacing through the kitchen. "What," he said hotly, "could Harry possibly have done wrong to be arrested by the fucking Minister and two Aurors? At night even!"
None of the three others was stupid enough to actually react to this, but Sirius didn't need someone to talk to – he could rant to himself perfectly fine. As he kept pacing through the kitchen, muttering darkly and making threatening gestures with his hands, Tonks took off her cloak and sat down. There wasn't much else she could do at the moment anyway.
"Where's Remus?" she asked. It was a bit strange to see a stressed-out Sirius without Remus to calm him down.
"Not up to company," Arthur told her. "Full moon tonight."
"Right." She reached for the can of pumpkin juice on the table. "At least we're not the only ones not having fun."
Sadly, this attempt to lighten the atmosphere didn't work. None of the others present reacted to it. Sirius remained pacing, and the Weasleys and Tonks listened to the sound of his footsteps and of the clock ticking.
Sirius felt even more frustrated than he had done when Harry was to go into the maze, at the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Now, just like then, he could do nothing to help his Godson, but this time there was much more at stake than simply winning an international competition. Even more frustrating was that he had no idea why Harry was going to be expelled. It had most likely something to do with that interview he had given two months ago, but Sirius couldn't imagine that being reason enough to expel someone. Although, knowing Fudge, he'd probably twist it into Harry disrespecting the Minister's authority or something ridiculous like that.
It was not even midnight, although it seemed much later, that the fire in the hearth abruptly turned green, startling the four of them. A tall, thin figure appeared in it, spinning round. Once his stopped spinning, Albus Dumbledore climbed out of the hearth and calmly dusted the soot off his robes. Then he looked up.
"Good evening."
"Where is Harry?" Sirius snapped, not caring about greetings or such niceties. To him, the evening was far from good.
"Still at Hogwarts," Dumbledore reassured him. "Save and sound." This drew a sigh of relief from the others present. Sirius, however, would not rest until he had heard every last detail.
"Why did Fudge come to Hogwarts?" he asked, urgently. Dumbledore looked at him, then at Tonks, quickly connecting and understanding.
"I see miss Tonks told you," he said, more a statement than a question. "Cornelius found out about a secret organisation Harry had founded, and saw this as a valid reason to expel the boy."
"What kind of organisation was that?" Molly asked, horrified that Harry would do such a dangerous thing.
"A society that practised Defence Against the Dark Arts, exactly in the way the Ministry does not want the subject to be learned. As I understood it, Harry was the founder and the teacher." Dumbledore's eyes went from Molly to Sirius as he spoke. The dark-haired man looked back defiantly.
Yes, I knew, he thought rebelliously. So what?
"How did he found out?" Arthur asked.
"Apparently one of the members decided to snitch. Marrietta Edgecombe – her mother works at the Ministry?"
"If she does, I don't think I've ever met her," Arthur said pensively.
"That does not matter much," Dumbledore went on. "Miss Edgecombe reported to Dolores Umbridge, who alerted Cornelius. Cornelius thought it necessary to take two Aurors with him. Fortunately for us, one of those was Kingsley Shacklebolt."
"So, fortunately for us means that everything is okay again?" Tonks asked, just to be sure. "Everything is as it was?"
"Not quite," Dumbledore said calmly. "Not quite, I'm afraid. To ensure Harry's stay at Hogwarts, I had to give up my position as Headmaster."
His listeners did not take to the news as calmly as it was brought. Arthur jumped to his feet in shock, Molly clapped a hand before her mouth, and there was a simultaneous outcry of "what!"
"It was necessary," Dumbledore continued. "Cornelius would not have been satisfied until one of us – Harry or me – had left Hogwarts. I decided that me leaving would be less dangerous than Harry being expelled. Cornelius, of course, seemed to like my resigning even better than Harry's, especially after he discovered how Harry had named his illegal group."
"How?" Sirius wanted to know.
"Dumbledore's Army," Dumbledore said. "Not Potter's Army, or something like that, but Dumbledore's Army. My army. This seemed to confirm Cornelius' worst fear, that I was trying to overthrow him and take over the Ministry myself. So he ordered the two Aurors he had brought with him, to arrest me. That was something I thought rather unnecessary and a waste of time, so I was forced to knock them out for a moment. With the help of Fawkes, I Apparated to Aberforth, who offered me help and shelter, which I gladly accepted. I then decided to come here, to explain all that happened, and so I did."
Silence. The story Dumbledore had just told them was so surprising and worrying that it took the four others a few moments to let it all sink in. Eventually, Arthur asked: "and who's Headmaster now?"
"I do not know," Dumbledore admitted, "but I wouldn't be surprised if Cornelius decides that Dolores Umbridge is the right woman for the job. He will certainly not allow Minerva to take my place. She has shown too often how loyal she is to me and how much she dislikes Dolores and Cornelius. Tonight she even offered to fight the them, Kingsley and Dawlish alongside with me. Neither Cornelius nor Dolores will forgive her that."
Another moment of silence. Each of them thought about what would happen if Dolores Umbridge took over Hogwarts. None of the possible outcomes sounded very good.
"And what are you going to do in the meantime?" Sirius asked eventually. "Stay here at Grimmauld Place?" Sharing his house with Dumbledore wasn't really something he looked forward to.
"No. I intend to stay at Aberforth's. It's close enough to Hogwarts that I can keep an eye on what's going on, and Cornelius will never suspect me staying there, in a pub at Hogsmeade. I trust I'm quite safe there." Dumbledore smiled at the people before him. "Really, it's actually much easier for me that Dolores is taking over my job. I now at least don't have to worry about the school too. It's quite an fortunate change, actually."
But of course it wasn't, and he probably knew that more than anyone. He could now no longer keep a direct eye on the proceedings at Hogwarts, he had no influence there anymore. The Ministry had free reign, they could do as they pleased. And with the Headmaster gone, nothing stopped them from making even more changes.
Tonight had been only the beginning.