CHAPTER 3: Ministry Pamphlets

Dumbledore ushered Harry into the floo, throwing n some powder for him and whispering something under his breath, Harry thought he heard the word "acid pops" but immediately dismissed the idea.

Two wooshes of a fireplace later, and a hum of a silver trinket on the mantle, Harry and Dumbledore were sitting in the famous circular office with Fawkes on his perch. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, in his high-backed chair; his expression was one of utmost concentration as he prodded his finger under his chin. The younger (by at least 150 years) fidgeted in the guest chair, wand sticking to the sweaty inside of his sleeve.

"Er….Professor?" Harry finally interrupted after several minutes.

Dumbledore's eyes alighted and his sat up straighter, "oh yes, yes, my dear boy, do forgive my old mind."

Harry shrugged noncommittally, and unraveled Ginny's light blue pillow case from the diary. He looked up at the cerulean blue eyes and understood that he was there for a reason, "so…what do you want me to do?"

Dumbledore smiled at him sadly, and sighed, "Take out your wand and hold it in the palm of your hand, now open to the page you wrote on."

Harry looked up sharply, wondering how Dumbledore had known that they had written anything. Dumbledore simply smiled bemusedly upon him, so Harry did as instructed.

"Good, good. Now take the same hand with the wand…yes move the wand a bit…that's the ticket, and open very carefully to the exact page."

These instructions weren't hard, seeing as the ballpoint pen had lodged itself in the book. The page was empty, however, which caused Dumbledore to lean forward and sigh.

"My dear boy," Dumbledore sounded reluctant, "could you please write what you wrote down previously?"

Harry nodded, and clicked the ballpoint pen into life, as Dumbledore muttered 'ingenious'.

Once again, in Harry's flustered scrawl, was the all important question, "What is your name?"

The book replied once again, but this time the letters didn't rearrange. Harry frowned, "But it did something else, professor, it also spelt out I am-"

"-Lord Voldemort," Ended Dumbledore wearily.

"How did you know that?" asked the seeker sharply.

Dumbledore smiled and answered evasively "I was transfiguration teacher at the time, ask Myrtle."

Harry nodded, deciding to ask Hermione about Myrtle later (the most important question being 'who the hell is she?')

"Headmaster," started Harry, "my wand…Ginny's wand didn't do that; and why have I not received a ministry owl yet?"

"As you know, Harry, your wand was made of the same core as Voldemort's (brother wands, I believe the term is), Fawkes gave those feathers…"

"and they reacted together," whispered Harry under his breath.

Gandalf-wannabe nodded serenely.

"And the ministry owl?" prodded Harry finally.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently, "well, Harry, I suppose this should be confidential, but the ministry tracks magic by zone, so if magic is used in the vicinity of an over-age wizard or witch, it is ignored, but if it is used in an area where the unger-age criminal is the only wizard or witch in the area they are automatically sent a letter. To hide their unique way of handling underage magic the ministry published a pamphlet on the tracking charms supposedly put on wands here."

"So does that mean…"

"Yes," nodded Dumbledore, "and I'm sure you won't tell any of your friends?"

Dumbledore winked.

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TBC

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