The Visit

The British Isles are not really supposed to be a dream destination for sun-longing holidaymakers, and that third Sunday in September, too, was one of those days that saw the entire country covered with clouds. Time and again, rain showers were pouring down – starting, so it seemed, when you were leaving your house, while ending just when you finally got under a sheltering roof.

The Muggle TV weathermen were therefore pretty astonished about a phenomenon far to the north of the country, where an almost circular enclave of about five miles radius around the ruins of Hogwarts Castle enjoyed brilliant sunshine all day. The few wizards and witches who happened to watch the Muggle weather report were less surprised, for they knew that Hogwarts was anything but a ruin, actually just a Confundus Charm giving Muggles the illusion that it was. Some had read in the Daily Prophet that the Minister for Magic had announced herself there that very day to give an important speech.

When major events with crowds of press photographers were to be organised, Hermione never left anything to chance, and the Ministry's wizards had indeed done a great job. Even for highly qualified specialists, weather magic is a tricky and demanding business, but at nine o'clock in the morning, when the Minister, escorted by a few bodyguard Aurors, Apparated in front of the Hogwarts gate to be warmly greeted by Professor McGonagall, it was pleasantly mild, with a gentle breeze under a cloudless sky.

Hermione was wearing a perfectly fitting scarlet skirt suit that would not have been out of place on any Muggle executive floor, along with an anthracite witch's robe – an unusual, but highly fashionable combination, and her old school scarf in the Gryffindor's scarlet and gold she had dug out of her wardrobe, added a certain fancy accent to her elegant look. She looked amazing, was in high spirits and looking forward to return to her former school after so many years, to meet some of her former teachers and classmates who were now teaching here. It had been important to her to give her programmatic speech at this place that had been so fateful to her: Today, she felt, a circle would close.

Hermione had deliberately rejected McGonagall's offer to temporarily cancel the protective spells around Hogwarts to give her the chance to Apparate directly in the castle. Instead, she had decided to walk the path from the school ground entrance to the castle, reminiscing and consciously enjoying every moment of her stay. For her, every step she was taking here, and this for the first time as Minister for Magic, was part of a triumphal procession that she wouldn't allow to be shortened.

Along the last part of her way to the castle, the students had lined up – five ranks deep and separated by house – to welcome her: first the Ravenclaws, then the Hufflepuffs, then the Gryffindors, last the Slytherins. As there was rising ground to the left of the path, even those standing in the back rows had a good view.

Albus, bursting with pride in his aunt, had naturally chosen a place in the first rank. As the path curved slightly to the right, he could effortlessly see the small procession coming up the hill: Hermione with McGonagall, then the security wizards, who, as always, were scanning the surroundings with their well-trained eyes for possible risks and keeping the press corps at a distance, which was forming a kind of rearguard. There were a lot of newspapermen, the Daily Prophet alone was present with four journalists: the editor-in-chief Elliott Northwood in person, his star columnist Heribert Prantice, a reporter and a photographer. The latter two were far less elegantly dressed than Northwood and Prantice and were supposed to do the real work.

Hermione was welcomed first by the Ravenclaws, then by the Hufflepuffs with beaming faces, waving hands, hearty applause and cheerful calls: Welcome home, welcome to Hogwarts, hi Minister! Some hands reached out to her, and she took them with a smile.

But the welcome she got from the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, warm and friendly as it was, was nothing compared to the thunderous cheers with which the Gryffindors welcomed "their" Minister when she finally reached their block. Hermione just had time to hug and kiss her daughter and her nephew James without regard to protocol before the Gryffindor ranks lost any order: Everyone wanted to be near her, shake her hand, catch a smile from her. She was popular anyway, but her Gryffindor scarf, with which she confessed to be one of them, made the Gryffindors' enthusiasm bubble over. They came close to lifting her on their shoulders to carry her into the castle. For minutes, Hermione's security Aurors had their hands full trying to keep their Minister from being squeezed.

McGonagall smiled and indulged the Gryffindors, not begrudging her former model student her triumph. When the turmoil finally calmed down a little, she tapped her wand against her throat to magnify her voice and call the students to order. One by one, they returned to their places, and Hermione was able to continue on her way. She reached the Slytherin block.

Even an outsider could not miss the two invisible lines, one of which was separating the Slytherins from the other houses, while the other was cutting right through Slytherin itself, splitting it into two parties. Here, there were neither cheers nor hands reaching out to her; but while the students in the two front ranks at least were smiling at her in a friendly (though sometimes slightly awkward) manner, applauding politely and generally trying hard not to make the contrast too harsh, at least to her welcome by the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, the three rows behind them were a wall of ice. This was where Roy's and Julian's friends and supporters stood, many with their arms folded and all of them, girls and boys alike, with stony faces. Hermione's features darkened. She had been told otherwise about the "new" Slytherin. Nevertheless, she kept her composure and looked frosty, either, when she passed by.

The only Slytherin who was really happy to see her was Albus. He was dancing up and down, waving both arms wildly above his head as if he feared she might miss him. He didn't care what the other Slytherins thought. His Hermione was coming, and he beamed happily at her. Hermione saw him, smiled, winked one eye at him – and strode past.

Albus paused abruptly in his welcoming dance. What was that? He looked after her, stunned. What did he expect? That she would cuddle him?

Yes, this was exactly what he had expected – after all, she had also hugged his brother without caring about etiquette. What was the difference?

The difference is that I am a Slytherin.

Albus saw McGonagall guide the Minister to the teachers who were awaiting them in front of the school door and introduce to her those she had not yet met. Hermione shook hands with each of them until she came to Neville Longbottom. Whom she spontaneously hugged.

At that moment, Albus wished to be far away and, above all, alone. Next to him was Scorpius, who had been among those applauding, for his father had impressed upon him in his last owl behaving courteously and friendly towards the Minister, and anyway, he liked being with Albus. When Scorpius looked at him briefly, only to immediately look away tactfully, Albus knew he had to get a grip on himself. He took a few deep breaths and tried to keep a straight face as best he could.

Now Hermione came to the Prefects. McGonagall introduced them by their names, but without mentioning their houses. Victoire welcomed her in the French manner with cheek kisses right and left, the others shook her hand, some of the boys bowed, Patricia even tried a curtsy. Roy was the last to shake hands with her. He looked into her face with a kind of wary curiosity that could easily (but had not necessarily to) be misinterpreted as friendly. Hermione subtly frowned and returned a scrutinizing glance at him while they were shaking hands. After a moment, their hands gradually separated, and Hermione, with McGonagall at her side, headed for the portal.

Meanwhile, the students had left their places and were waiting until the Minister and her entourage had disappeared into the castle, then they followed them slowly. They knew that there was a short reception in the castle in honour of the Minister and that there was still some time before she was expected to start her address.