The Commitment

Late on Wednesday afternoon – Roy and Arabella were just welcoming their wedding guests a few miles away – a secret Auror from the Magical Security Office Apparated with a Hogwarts student at the Ministry and led him to the office of his superior.

"Have a seat, Wilkinson," Anderson told him after the Auror had left the office. On Anderson's desk was the letter Wilkinson had sent to the Minister on Saturday.

"Your information is highly interesting," Anderson started the interrogation, "but wouldn't it have been more logical to inform your teacher Mister Barclay first, who you know is from the Auror Department and who would certainly have passed on such information?"

"With respect, sir," Wilkinson replied, flushing, "Professor Barclay is not in charge with that kind of affairs, and besides, well ..." He hesitated.

"Well?" asked Anderson inquiringly.

"I am not sure whether he's really loyal to the Minister. He doesn't seem to be excited about her policy. He didn't comment at all on the Potter case, although I brought it up several times in class."

"Interesting," Anderson murmured, "very interesting ..."

He looked at Wilkinson thoughtfully for a moment, without the latter being able to guess what was going on behind his brow.

"You did the right thing," he finally said. "Barclay is a respectable colleague, but he doesn't have the right understanding that unusual circumstances require unusual measures."

Wilkinson breathed a sigh of relief, but Anderson immediately unsettled him again: "But if you were concerned about who is in charge, you should have addressed me, not the Minister."

Wilkinson flushed again.

"Excuse me, sir. I thought the Minister would be interested in ... er"

As he didn't quite know how to continue, Anderson finished the sentence for him:

"... who her truly loyal supporters are at Hogwarts and to whom she owes a debt of gratitude. Is that what you were going to say?"

"Sir, I am selflessly serving the cause and ..."

"It's all right, Wilkinson, the Minister is indeed interested. She has read your letter in person and wishes you to know that she will remember your name."

Wilkinson beamed.

"But now to the point. Tell me again in all detail what you saw and heard."

Wilkinson gave a detailed report, with Anderson, who wanted to know everything in detail, interrupting him with frequent questions.

"What kind of map was that," he asked in conclusion, "that MacAllister was looking at before they left the Room of Requirement?"

"A strange map, sir. It seemed to be multiply foldable. The part MacAllister had opened seemed to contain a floor plan of the seventh floor. There was something moving on the map and apparently you could see on it who was where."

"And you are quite sure, Wilkinson," Anderson changed the subject, "that they mentioned that even little Potter had mastered the Patronus Charm?"

"One hundred percent, sir."

"Was there any talk about who he learned it from?"

"No, but if I may make a guess: I assume it was MacAllister. He is considered highly gifted."

"That's possible," the intelligence chief confirmed. "But given how bent the Incorruptibles are on getting Potter free, I wonder if they aren't part of Potter's conspiracy themselves and may have learned the Patronus from him."

"You believe?" asked Wilkinson excitedly.

"An Auror doesn't believe anything, young man, he evaluates evidence," Anderson lectured him. "But these pieces of evidence add up to a chain. This working group supposedly for defence against the dark arts has always appeared strange to me, and the map you saw can only have been the Marauder's Map. Ever since I've known Potter, and I've known him for a long time, he's always carried it with him like a talisman, even though he never needed it. If he entrusted this shrine to the Incorruptibles or just to his son Albus – why Albus and not his first-born son James? – they must be in cahoots with him."

"So you're saying Potter wasn't a lone offender?"

"He claims to have been and has made it plausible that no one but him knew of his plans. We couldn't prove anything to the contrary. Nevertheless, my instinct tells me that such a far-reaching undertaking cannot have been planned and carried out by a single man, especially as, since his arrest, there have been more and more clues that a widespread conspiracy is underway, which seems to have gained momentum just with Potter's arrest – a conspiracy to overthrow, perhaps even assassinate, the Minister."

"Merlin's beard," Wilkinson whispered in horror.

"This conspiracy is not limited to Hogwarts, but an important node of this network is likely to be located there. You understand that I need a completely loyal and reliable man on the ground?"

"Of course, sir, and I am at your disposal."

"That's what I wanted to hear, Wilkinson. Here, sign this."

Anderson passed him a sheet of parchment. It contained a self-commitment written out in Wilkinson's name to unconditional obedience to the instructions of the Magical Security Office.

"That's going very far, sir ..." murmured Wilkinson anxiously.

"It's going far," Anderson replied indifferently, "but no further than what you promised in your letter. Now you have to show if that was just talk or if you mean what you say."

This appeal to his honour cornered Wilkinson. He signed.

"Good." Anderson received the declaration with satisfaction. "Now let's get to your mission. You'll be shadowing the suspects, with MacAllister being the number one target."

Wilkinson nodded vigorously.

"I assume," Anderson continued, "that he is the head of the conspiracy as far as Hogwarts is concerned. In and of itself, what you have reported to me would easily be sufficient to arrest the Incorruptibles, Victoire Weasley and James Potter. But since at least a dozen people, and probably more, are supposed to be involved in the freeing of Potter, we need to know who the others are. Your mission is to find that out."

"Yessir!"

Anderson smirked at the brisk answer, but immediately became earnest again:

"We now have two problems: You have correctly pointed out in your letter that effective surveillance fails, especially in conspiratorial meetings, because the targets use the Calorate spell. Even apart from such meetings, an invisibility spell is unlikely to do the trick. If you try to eavesdrop on the targets in the Great Hall, the Slytherin Common Room or wherever, you are surrounded by other students. It's hard to avoid running into someone, and then your cover is blown. However, these problems are basically solvable: You will shadow the targets as an Animagus."

Wilkinson frowned. "Yes, but sir, surely they get suspicious if a cat, dog or even a mouse is on their tail."

"Indeed, these are not the animals I was thinking of. You need to turn into a smaller, more inconspicuous animal."

"More inconspicuous than a mouse?" asked Wilkinson doubtfully.

"A housefly."

"Yuck! Do I really have to?"

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Er, no, but ... it's not only unappetising, it's dangerous. Any fly swatter can finish me off."

"Well, you are supposed to be careful not to get on your target's nerves, since your mission is precisely to eavesdrop on them unnoticed. By the way, Harry Potter has sent off more than one Auror as a fly, and they all came back, if that makes you feel better. It's not without a risk, of course, but I hope you didn't imagine that being an agent was unrisky, did you?"

"Certainly not, but ..."

"And you wrote in your letter of your own accord that you are ready to run any risk. No one forced you to promise us this, but the Minister is relying on your word, and says she's very happy that there are people like you."

For Wilkinson, this was like Christmas, Easter and Birthday at once. His idol, the sun in his firmament, Minister for Magic Hermione Granger-Weasley Herself had not only taken note of his existence and read his letter, she counted on him, she relied precisely upon him!

"Did she really say so?"

This was something you couldn't get confirmed often enough!

"Sure. But if you like, you are welcome to hear it from herself."

Now his heart sank into his boots.

"You mean the Minister would meet me? Really?"

Anderson grinned. "Really. She even makes a point of it and just asked me to check you first. Since you have passed the test, there is no reason why you shouldn't get an audience. Follow me, please!"

Anderson led him into the Minister's antechamber. It was almost half past six, but Percy Weasley was still at his post.

"May we?" asked Anderson.

Percy nodded. "Go ahead, she's expecting you!"

Anderson knocked, and at Hermione's "Come in" he allowed Wilkinson, who barely dared to breathe, to enter first.

Hermione came towards him, shook his hand long, looked deep into his eyes and smiled.

"I'm glad you're here. It's a pity we couldn't speak when I visited Hogwarts, but you saw for yourself that I had my hands full then."

Wilkinson was too entranced by her to know what to say. How beautiful she is!

"Er ... yes of course," he stammered, "the day was very turbulent, I myself was injured when I clashed with MacAllister."

"Oh, it was you?" she beamed. "Then I am even more pleased to finally have the opportunity to thank you from the bottom of my heart!"

While Wilkinson was melting away, she turned briefly to Anderson and asked business-like: "The gentlemen have come to an agreement so far?"

"In principle, yes, there are just some details of his mission to be worked out."

"All right, then please leave us alone now, I'll send him back over to you later."

Anderson left the room. Hermione gestured Wilkinson to the sofa and sat down next to him. Wilkinson could hardly believe this all was real.

"Madam Minister ..."

"Oh no! Hermione!"

Wilkinson blushed with excitement. "Hermione, it is a great honour ..."

"The honour is all mine," Hermione replied kindly when she realised he couldn't get another word out. "And I have rarely had the honour lately of meeting someone who is not only loyal but also brave and energetic."

He was wax in her hands and she began kneading him. She sighed.

"There is almost no one I can rely on. In this Ministry, out of hundreds of officers, there are only two, you've just met them: Anderson and my brother-in-law Percy Weasley. Everyone else – from the head of department down – are intriguing to bring me down. Not openly, of course – secretly. Treachery is lurking everywhere, and it is worst in my personal sphere. My best friend – at least that's what I thought he was – is plotting against me, my husband is stabbing me in the back, my daughter refuses to support me, my nephew Albus has changed sides and is now with these so-called" – disgust vibrated in her voice – "'Incorruptibles', and as for his brother James and my niece Victoire, your letter has opened my eyes. Rupert, I'm all alone."

She had spoken the last sentence in a low, slightly trembling voice.

Rupert threw out his chest. "Hermione, on me you can always count! I swear to you!"

Hermione gave him a grateful smile.

"I know you do, Rupert. Now that I've met you, I am sure that you will not give the traitors a chance as far as it depends on you. But you are aware that you are running an enormous risk?" she asked anxiously.

"I am and I don't care!" exclaimed Wilkinson proudly, and he meant what he said. For Hermione, he would expose himself even to the fly swatters. "I'll do anything for you! No one must lay a finger on you, and no one must sabotage your historic mission! I will do everything in my power!"

"I am proud to be supported by a man like you," the Minister praised him, whereupon Wilkinson turned purple. "You put it quite rightly: It is a historic mission and, in spite of your youth, you play an important role in it. How important it is, you can see from the fact that Anderson in person will be your supervising officer. You will obey each of his orders as if it came from me, and I will instruct him to keep me informed of everything you do."

"I won't disappoint you, Hermione!"

"I know you won't, and it's comforting to know that," she said with a smile. She rose to her feet, indicating to him that the audience was over. "Now I must hand you back to your supervising officer. Good luck!"

They shook hands, with Wilkinson bowing deeply. Utterly elated to be going into battle for his queen as a noble knight in shining armour, he floated out of the door.

Hermione grinned.