An Informative Talk

When he reached the corridor with the Headmistress' office, he consulted the Marauder's Map again: She was no longer alone, Whiteman was with her. Two teachers in a session – that could take time. Harry decided to look around a little. But where? At first hesitantly, then resolutely, he headed for the basement, hoping to find Albus near the Slytherin rooms, although for the latter it was time to go to sleep. A long conversation wouldn't be possible so late, but Albus' letter had sounded so desparate that it might be a good idea to let the boy know that his father was closely observing what was going on at Hogwarts.

Once in the deepest basement, he headed for the Slytherin common room. He was just passing the corner of a side corridor in which he knew there were only broom closets and storage rooms, when in the corner of his eye he noticed a slight flicker in that corridor that other people would not have paid attention to. Harry, however, was an Auror, trained to notice and investigate even the most inconspicuous odd detail. He watched more closely: No doubt, a hole had appeared in the wall where seconds before there had been none.

A Room of Requirement? Here, on the dungeon floor?

Protected by his Invisibility Cloak, Harry leaned against the wall, watching a student of perhaps fifteen peeking out, then coming out of the hole and gesturing the others to follow. Three boys and a girl, all around sixteen, followed the first boy into the corridor one after another, including Roy MacAllister, whom Harry recognised from the pictures in the Daily Prophet. They had to be those "Incorruptibles" Hermione had told him about. The hole closed behind them.

Harry grinned. He loved to be praised by Hermione for his investigative success, his instincts and his ingenuity, but was always aware that he had often simply been extremely lucky, almost as if someone had given him a permanent injection of Felix Felicis. Today, too, his luck seemed to be with him.

MacAllister gently twitched at the girl's witch robe, telling her to stop, while the others were heading for the common room at a quick pace. When they turned to him at the corner to the main corridor, he called out to them: "Don't wait for us, we're following in a minute!"

As the sound of their steps was fading away, he asked the girl – undoubtedly Arabella Wolfe – who stood beside him with a dismissive expression: "What's the matter with you today? You've been putting on a face all day as if I had done something to you."

"Oh," she said snappishly, "since you've started such a beautiful friendship this morning, I don't want to bother you with my company any more than necessary."

"Beautiful friendship?" asked Roy, puzzled, then he understood. "Oh, you heard what I said to Patty this morning ..."

"You may call her Patricia, or are both of you already shifting to pet names?"

"But Arrie, the phrase about beautiful friendship is just a saying ..."

"... which no one but you seems to know, least of all Pattysweetie."

"Everybody knows ... OK, everybody in the Muggle world knows. It's the final sentence of a very famous film."

"And you really think Patricia has ever watched a Muggle film?"

Roy looked embarrassed: "I'm sorry, I didn't even think of that ..."

"Of course you didn't," said she bitchily, "you were far too absorbed in worshipping your Veela to think clearly. Maybe you should ask your new flame out to the Muggle cinema more often, to avoid her misinterpreting your sayings as advances. Or is this exactly what she's supposed to do?"

Arabella tried to control herself, but a slight tremble of her lips revealed how aggrieved she was.

"Arrie." Roy looked into her eyes. "It wasn't advances, okay?"

Her dismissive features relaxed.

"Okay. What else can I do? So just as a precaution: Don't let her take you in, I don't think she'd do you any good. Even if something happened between you, she will never love you like ... as she ought to. Now let's go."

They walked past Harry and turned the corner into the main corridor. Harry was following them. They did not seem to be in a hurry to join the others. Finally, Arabella said:

"Your reasons against killing her were not really convincing."

Killing her! Harry flinched.

"They were, for they did convince you."

"Yes, but only because we wanted to be convinced."

"For whatever reason," Roy grumbled, "the issue is off the table."

"I wonder why you argued like that." She looked at him. "So, what your real motives were."

"I've explained them at length, haven't I?" Roy sounded impatient.

"Tell me," Arabella replied with a smile, "how long have we been friends now?"

"Since we've been at Hogwarts – five years."

"And you still think you can play your best friend for a fool?"

Roy was silent.

"Is it possible," she finally asked, "that you were against it mainly because you could no longer look into the face of a certain little boy if you were preparing an assault on his beloved aunt at the same time?"

Harry listened intently so as not to miss a word.

Roy blushed slightly. "That has nothing to do with it at all!"

"Roy, come on! Can't you stand by your feelings just for once? A blind could see how much you like little Potter."

"I do," he pressed between his closed teeth. "But this has no influence on my judgement, in any case it is no argument."

Arabella laughed out loud. "Of course it isn't! There's no way our steely house intellectual could admit that even for him feelings are arguments!" She giggled. "Cuuuuute!"

Then she became earnest. "Let me tell you something: These are the best arguments there are, because they save you from destroying your soul with your logic."

Roy was silent while they walked on.

"Why Albus of all kids?" she finally asked. "Well, he's really lovable, but so are others, too."

They had now reached the door to the common room.

"I've wondered, too." Roy dropped his gaze. "Probably because he's exactly how I would like my little brother to be if I had one."

"See?" she beamed. "Even you can stand by your feelings, and it doesn't hurt at all."

And as they disappeared into the common room, a proud father was smiling under his Invisibility Cloak.

Harry didn't try to follow them into the common room; a quick glance at the map had taught him that McGonagall was now alone in her office, and he hurried to get to her. In front of the door behind which he knew were the stairs to her office, he made sure he was alone in the corridor, took off his Invisibility Cloak, raised his wand and muttered, "Accio office bell." Unlike Hermione, he had been at Hogwarts once or twice in the last few years and therefore knew the new entrance. The door opened and Harry slipped inside. At the end of the stairs, he found the office door already open.

"Good evening, Harry, what a surprise!"

McGonagall welcomed him with her typical smile one had rather to guess but to see, but which meant about as much in her face as a dance of joy with other people.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Harry said, nodding at her and also greeting the portrait of Professor Dumbledore, who winked at him with a smile. "I hope I'm not coming at an inconvenience, but I didn't have time to announce myself."

"You are never inconvenient, Harry, why don't you take a seat? How's Ginny?"

"She's deeply concerned. We received this letter from Albus today. The last paragraphs are particularly disturbing."

Harry put the roll on the table. McGonagall unrolled the letter, skimmed the first part and read the end with particular attention. Her expression darkened.

"Well," she said finally, handing the letter back to Harry, "that's indeed something for a mother to worry about."

"She is not the only one. The Minister is also worried, though for different reasons, some of which are opposite."

"Is she?" the Headmistress asked thin-lipped, casting a critical look at Harry.

"I am here unofficially and would like to get a personal picture of the situation at Hogwarts. That's why I wanted to talk to you."

It became a long conversation. McGonagall began by describing the events of the previous day and also mentioned the argument she had had with Hermione at lunch, of which Harry had not yet been informed. He was dismayed to hear that Hermione had suggested the Headmistress to resign.

"She's changed a lot," McGonagall said sadly. "When she became Minister, I was very happy about it. I was convinced that there couldn't be anyone better for this office. Yesterday, however, it was hard to me to recognise anything left of the idealistic young girl I once knew. Certainly, there have been many people whose idealism has turned into fanaticism, but I wouldn't have expected it from her. She was like a different person."

"She's a Minister now and has to be forceful at times," Harry tried to defend her.

"Harry," McGonagall said with a silent reproach, "you may well credit your old teacher with some discernment. A forceful attitude doesn't bother me at all, I have it myself. What's disturbring me is that she confuses disagreement with enmity. A certain opening towards the Muggle world – well, that's arguable. But how is a discussion supposed to take place if she considers every dissenter a deadly enemy? To see a Death Eater in a MacAllister who has brought forward solid arguments is ridiculous and anachronistic!"

Harry thought of the fact that Roy and his friends must have considered no less than killing Hermione, but said nothing. He only asked:

"What kind of person is MacAllister, and why is he so against Hermione?"

"He has a precarious family background. Coming to Hogwarts was a redemption for him, just as it had been for you then. In the Muggle world, he could hardly have found his feet. Here he did, just like you. His opposition to the Ministry, I believe, is caused by his fear of losing that solid ground again."

"I see. And his friends, the so-called 'Incorruptibles'?"

"Lestrange opposes his father and therefore gives his grandparents a halo, Malagan is a free spirit, Macnair hates the Ministry for bullying his family" – Harry blushed slightly – "and Miss Wolfe is friends with all of them. This is his inner circle. Honestly, Harry, they won't aim at a Voldemort-type regime if only because no one is supposed to establish a state he wouldn't want to live in himself."

They now talked about the hostility between the Gryffindors and the other houses on the one hand, and the Slytherins on the other. McGonagall was convinced – correctly, as Harry now knew – that the Minister had personally incited the Gryffindors, and confirmed that Albus' account was accurate and not over-sensitive. The atmosphere had been truly pogrom-like and the Gryffindors had persistently tried to instigate friction throughout the day.

When Harry left McGonagall's office, it was well past midnight.

[Author's note: You will have noticed that this text is a translation, the original language being German. I am doing the translation myself. For a non-native speaker not living in an English-speaking country, it is sometimes hard to guess how the English would actually speak in a given situation. So if you come across any non-idiomatic phrasing or even mistakes, please feel free to send me a little PM to suggest an alternative. Thank you.]