Chapter 4 – Education (interlude)
Headmistress Pro Tem McGonagall was using a quill last used by Albus Dumbledore, while sitting at a desk last used by Albus Dumbledore, in an office last used by Albus Dumbledore, at a school last run by Albus Dumbledore. He was everywhere and no where. She was completely overwhelmed by the volume of parchments that came whizzing in and out of her office. Everyone from the Minister of Magic, to the many departments under him, to all twelve members of the Board of Governors, to countless parents, to members of the Order of the Phoenix, to the Headmasters of the other magical schools, to the staff at Hogwarts and all wanted updates and statuses and information and assistance and thousand other details. She never realized how difficult the position of Headmistress was until she first sat down at this desk. It was if the world expected her to solve all their problems.
On top of everything else, she never knew how little she new about the school itself. She never knew of that all of the houses at Hogwarts had secret societies, that both the Department of Mysteries and the Auror's had office's on the third floor and neither new of the other, that the suits of armor actually formed a internal surveillance network, and there were no less than 12 hidden passages to Hogmeade, and the house elves… who would have ever imagined.
It was all too much. She turned to Albus' picture for the one hundredth time that day desperately wanting advice, but that's not how it works. Above all else, that was the greatest disappointment to learn was that pictures don't give advice. They can perform small errands, answer specific factual questions from their personal histories, and even report what is happening outside of their other paintings. And that was all. Minerva needed advise right now, not more information. Worst of all was that Albus' picture seemed to be missing large portions of his memories, almost as if they had been removed prior to his death. She and the Minister of Magic had interrogated the painting at length in the initial day's of being Headmistress. Every time they got close to the subject of Voldemort and Harry Potter's special training, Albus' painted counterpart would squeeze his brows together and concentrate for the longest time before giving the same answer, "I don't remember". If his memories aren't in the painting, then where and why did he hide them? Her deep abiding love and admiration for Albus was beginning to tarnish.
Driven by frustration and anger, Minerva turned to Albus' painting and demanded "Why did you keep so much from me? I have never been so unprepared; it's as if I am a first year taking my NEWTs!"
Waking up from his sleep the painted Albus straightened its glasses and peered out of the painting directly at Minerva. "My dearest Minerva, you cannot imagine how much it grieves me to see you like this. Unfortunately, I don't know why I kept so much from you. In point of fact, since I have no memories of me actually hiding information from you, I don't know that I did keep anything from you." the painted Albus offered explanatorily.
"Then what am I to do?" asking the same question that she had every day since becoming Headmistress Pro Tem. She had asked it so many times that it had become rhetorical.
Interestingly paintings are not able to catch many linguistic subtleties, rhetoric and sarcasm usually being amongst them, so the painting faithfully responded with "I don't know what you should do" in an infuriatingly sympathetic voice.
Giving up on getting anything useful from the painted Albus, Minerva resorted, for the first time of her life, to viscous sarcasm and asked, "What were you thinking then when you recommended me to be the next Headmistress? Obviously I am not prepared to continue on in your footsteps. "
It was with this question the painted Albus changed his entire countenance and leaned forward to conspiratorially to say, "That is an excellent question and one that I can actually answer. My dear Minerva, you were my first choice, because you can do what no other Witch or Wizard in the world can do. I love Hogwarts, each and every aspect of it. I love the ghosts, the walls, the history, and most of all I love the traditions. Hogwarts is a beacon that has shown out across the darkest of ages and remained true to the original goal of teaching every witch and wizard who would come to us. I gave my life to continue this tradition. Now it is left to you to perform the most powerful transformation magic that has ever occurred and do what I could not. Minerva you must destroy Hogwarts."
Having made this proclamation the painted Albus moved back to his padded chair, stretched his arms, and drifted off to a deep slumber.
Dazed by what she had just heard, Minerva dropped the quill she had been holding and sat abruptly back into her chair. He couldn't be serious! He can't be!