For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1
6 – Interlude One, Second Year
Friday, October 1, 1999:
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister of Education's office: 07:50
The secretary looked up from her desk, standing to block the door. "I'm sorry, you can't go in. The Minister is very busy…"
Two goblins pulled her aside, replacing her in her chair as the squad burst into the office. She tried again, one guard gently pushing her back while two others guarded the door.
"Percy Ignatius Weasley?" the lead goblin snapped. The tall, thin redhead looked up, he replied "Yes," before thinking.
"You are under arrest for fraud and the theft of 433, 612 galleons, four sickles, three knuts." Weasley's jaw dropped open, his eyes blinking behind his spectacles. The goblin snatched the wand and moneybag from his hands, saying, "I'm confiscating these as evidence. We've been watching you since May, Weasley, you've been handling stolen funds to make your payroll, and you signed a contract. You're personally liable." He leaned close, asking, "DO you have 433,612 galleons, four sickles, and three knuts, Weasley?"
"Of course not! No one has that kind of money lying about!"
"On the contrary, several of our wealthier clients have that in petty cash." The goblin leaned closer, adding, "They don't like being stolen from, Weasley. Go easy on yourself, co-operate with us. Where did you get the moneybag?"
"I… I think I need to speak to a solicitor."
"As you wish. How will you pay them?"
"I… I have a few galleons saved up."
"Already attached," the goblin smirked, "Page 269, paragraph 6b of your contract, Weasley. You should read what you sign." He motioned, "Take him away."
Percy stood, fists clenched, "I'll be out of Azkaban before nightfall."
"Who said you were going to Azkaban, Weasley? Do you think we're STUPID? Fudge would have you out of there before the ink was dry." He added, "If it was in his interest, of course. No, we have a MUCH more secure place to keep you. Who do you wish notified of your imprisonment?"
Saturday, October 2, 1999:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:12
"Post's here!"
Mattie looked up as the usual swarm of post owls (and bats) circled over her table, much to the amusement of Sprink's sister 'Tonks', who had joined them for breakfast. "D'you mind?" Emma said, and Mattie waved her hand. "Oy, some of you for Wayne, line up here!" she called up. Several broke off their pattern, and landed, forming a slightly ragged line.
"How long has this been going on?" Tonks asked.
"Beginning of term," Jeremy said. "Another howler!" he called, tossing the smoking red envelope down the table. Mattie sighed and popped it open, where an angry voice started to yell about the Bat's performance in Friday night's game. She batted it away, muttering, "We won, didn't we? Don't these people have anything else to do?"
"Apparently not," Karen said with a chuckle as she joined them.
"Letter from Gringott's" Sprink warned, as the massive owl stalked forward, ignoring the other owls to their displeasure.
"Thank you," Mattie told it, offering it a bowl of owl treats. It hooted regally, took a drink; then flew off as Mattie opened the letter. "Hmm. They made an arrest in that fraud case. Wonder…"
"Wayne! Why did you have my BROTHER arrested?" Ginny screamed, waving the Reporter and her wand at Mattie. She was too mad to aim her hex properly; hitting someone on the Ravenclaw table as Mattie ducked and rolled, coming up in a combat crouch. As they screamed and pawed at their face, Mattie grabbed a tea-saucer, flinging the small gold plate at Ginny.
Ginny saw the incoming plate, but couldn't get out of the way in time. It hit her temple, dropping her unconscious to the floor.
"Ginny!" Professor Harry shouted, jumping the head table and running, wand out.
"Oh, Merlin!" Tonks ran to intercept Harry as the sixth and seventh years traded looks, then called 'protegro unisys'. Karen levitated Ginny's unconscious form to Harry, who caught it while Mattie slipped away from the table, assuming a defensive stance.
"Staff to meet in ten minutes…" Professor Dumbledore said calmly.
"Does anyone know what Mrs. Potter was concerned about?" Albus asked, as the tea set floated about the room.
"Ginny? Her brother Percy was arrested by the goblins on fraud charges." Minerva intercepted the floating tea-tray, "Apparently the Education Ministry's been operating off stolen funds, Miss Wayne's primarily."
Passing the tea set to Pomona, Minerva started handing out sheaves of paper, "I've printed and highlighted the appropriate account. We're going to have to scale our operations back."
Grunts and the click of teacups answered her, followed by the scratch of quills.
Severus broke the silence, "If I restrict the use of crystalware to the most sensitive potions, and enforce student replacement of breakage, it will help. Ordinary potions can be handled with glassware, but the quality of the phials are inconsistent."
Pomona was doing longhand math on the back of a sheet. "If I replace two thirds of my dragon dung with ordinary manure, I can save money, but I'll need to use more manure." She scribbled a bit more; then sighed, throwing down her quill. "Not an enormous amount of savings. Severus, perhaps I could substitute a potion for fertilizer?"
He grunted, Albus saying, "We needn't do this now, but we should meet before lunch. Go over your department and house budgets, we'll meet again at eleven."
Mattie poked her head into the Infirmary, asking Narcissa in a whisper, "How's Ginny?"
"Go see for yourself," she replied with a smile.
Ginny held out her hand, calling, "Mattie? I'm… sorry."
"So am I. I understand about your brother, he's family," she said, sitting on Ginny's bunk and squeezing her hand. "When Gringott's came to me and said someone was robbing my account, just after I'd gotten out of Azkaban, well… I wanted revenge, and I figured it was Fudge doing it, so I authorized the investigation. I'd feel the same way if someone arrested my brother. We'll work something out, don't worry about it."
"Excuse us," Professor Harry said with a smile. He leaned over to kiss his wife, and didn't hear her leave.
Saturday, October 2, 1999:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 10:34
A jagged streak of lightning danced across the sky, illuminating the students through the enchanted roof. A few seconds later, thunder boomed as rain fell against the old leaded glass windows. More lightning flashed, overpowering the hundreds of floating candles.
"I don't understand why you don't have problems in spellcasting, when I do and we come from similar backgrounds," Mattie complained to Arthur.
He snorted. "Similar? Okay, maybe it's because I'm good at math, while you're good at chemistry." She grunted, and he continued, "I just think of an object as four-dimensional."
"Four dimensions? What are you lot on about now?" Amanda asked, looking up from her potions textbook.
"Okay, maybe it should be five or six," Arthur admitted. "The point is, if you use a rubber universe, you can bend and stretch it however you like. We know you can create colors, you've done it with arcus and obscurus." Mattie raised a skeptical eyebrow, Arthur adding, "Just like in programming, pass it an argument. Try creating an arcus bomb, but don't release it. Hold it and change the color."
Mattie gazed at him suspiciously; then waved her hand, a glaring white ball of energy appearing. Closing her eyes, the ball turned black, with yellow bands.
"Change the bands to scarlet. Ballycastle's colours," Andrew whispered.
"Now Tutshill's sky blue," murmured Professor Flitwick, climbing on the bench to stand next to Sprink. She turned to look up at him, and he winked, holding his finger to indicate silence.
"Now flatten out the ball, just like squishing cookie dough," Arthur murmured. "Raise it up a bit, though." Mattie nodded, eyes closed, forehead coated in sweat. "Nice and flat, just like tortillas, keeping the same blue dough."
"Tortillas?" Amanda whispered, and one of the twins leaned over to whisper to her.
"Now take that tortilla dough, and we're going to play with it before we bake it," Arthur continued. "We're going to make it solid, by drawing the energy out of it, so put your thumb in the dough, and drain it out your pinky. That's right." Arthur licked his lips, and Filius mimed drinking tea. Arthur nodded, adding, "Things shrink when they're heated, so we need a small disk, about ten inches across." The blue hovering disk shrank, becoming thicker, Arthur saying, "Pinch off some of that and make, um, four balls with it, then tidy up the disk. Stack two of the balls on top of each other, and scoop out the middle of the other two balls, like an ice-cream scoop."
Frank McDonald had wandered over, and Professor Flitwick gestured him to silence as Arthur continued, "Hollow out the two stacked balls, and put all of them on the disk. Now gently lower the disk (the twins and Charlie clearing room), and… open your eyes."
Mattie sat back with a whoosh of expelled breath; then looked at the blue tea set resting on the wooden table, blinked, and asked, "I did that?"
"You did, thanks to Mr. Morton's excellent instructions!" Professor Flitwick said. "I do think that's worth ten points to Mr. Morton!"
Saturday, October 2, 1999:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 12:13
The Headmaster stood, tapping his wineglass, and the Great Hall quieted. "Thank you. I thought you'd like to know the financial status of Hogwarts, given this morning's news article." He cleared his throat, saying, "First of all, the school will NOT close. Your tuition and boarding fees are paid through the end of the academic year into a separate account. Where this shortfall will affect us is in budget items like commissary supplies, maintenance, supplies and recreation, and unfortunately staff salaries." He cleared his throat, and took a sip of water before continuing, "What this means to you is less … extravagant meals, more soups, stews, casseroles and vegetables. It means only critical repairs, and it also means that if you break something, you will be paying for a replacement. Regarding staff salaries, it means we are working on finding alternative financing. Lastly, it also means that the more expensive clubs and groups like the house Quidditch teams, are cancelled for …" A roar of protest drowned out the headmaster.
After a few minutes, the headmaster cast a silencing spell, and calmly said, "If you will do me the courtesy to let me finish?" He looked about; then removed the spell, "Thank you. We are in a financial crunch, and must tighten belts. Unfortunately, that means extracurricular activities, no matter how enjoyable, that cost the school and do not enhance your education must be cancelled…" he held up his hand, "…unless they can pay their way. The Quidditch teams are not the only ones, but they are admittedly the most popular. Others, such as the drama and choral clubs are in the same dilemma. We are open to reasonable suggestions from everyone; please see your Head of House."
"Why don't we have Wayne pay for it? She's got more money than god!" someone called from the Gryffindor table.
"It would not be fair to Miss Wayne, the money was stolen from her originally, and lastly, it would give the impression she was buying her grades," McGonagall snapped. "We try to treat everyone equally here, Mr. Branson, no matter their financial status, house, or bloodline. Is that clear?"
"This does bring up an important point," the Headmaster added. "Those of you on scholarships or financial aid, please meet with your head of house. For now, as I said, constructive suggestions would be appreciated."