Chapter 4

Momentarily caught off guard, Rita was scowling darkly at an older man Harry guessed was Robards. But in a matter of seconds, she had rearranged her face into a smile that she must have thought was dazzling. "Oooh, a party," she cooed. She sucked the tip of her acid green quill and moved into the room followed by the Auror Harry recognized as Dawlish. Rita had made a lavish comeback from unemployment. Her hair was no longer tangled and unkempt, but curled in little blonde ringlets that hung around her face and her new rhinestone studded glasses.

"We were just discussing an evacuation plan for Hogwarts," Kingsley addressed the wizard named Robards. There were only four of them, as far as Harry could see. Rita glided across the room to examine the pensieve. Harry sucked in his stomach as she passed him; the cloak flapped at his feet and for one terrible second, Dawlish looked as though he had seen his trainers.

But then McGonagall started talking and all attention was drawn away from the corner. "We have decided on a plan of action. Parents who wish to take home their children may do so at their convenience. Graduation of seventh years will be moved to the day after tomorrow and the Hogwarts Express will arrive the following morning to deliver the remaining students to King's Cross Station." The room was silent save for the scratching of Rita Skeeter's acid green Quick Quotes Quill hovering next to Harry's ear.

"And what of Hogwarts? Are you positive that the school is safe to stay in?" A wizard behind Dawlish spoke to Kingsley, but McGonagall cut in quickly.

"The dormitories were not damaged during the fight. However, they are being searched as we speak by a Hogwarts staff member." The wizard did not look satisfied with her answer, though.

"Proudfoot, the students of Hogwarts will no longer be in danger," Kingsley said in his deep reassuring tone to the wizard who nodded his head in satisfaction.

"I will assemble the Aurors to assist you in the search, Minerva."

"Thank you, Robards. I'm glad you know how to do that. I was beginning to worry that as the head of the Auror Department, you could not even assemble your men, as demonstrated by tonight's events." She cocked her head to one side. "After all, the Minister was here fighting alongside the Death Eaters; I wonder whether or not he relayed the message to you." McGonagall gave him a cold smile. Robards had lost his slight smile and he openly scowled at her.

Proudfoot addressed McGonagall, "Where is the body of You-Know-Who?"

The question seemed to shock Robards from his sulk. "Yes, it will need to be properly disposed of. I think—"

"I think you're forgetting who has been named standing Minister of Magic, Robards." Kingsley stood to his full height towering over the other wizard, who looked, Harry thought, quite frightened by Kingsley's threatening tone. "That decision will be made by me. Your opinion is welcome, but don't let yourself forget: it is just that: an opinion."

Robards seemed to evaluate the situation and took a step back. "You're right, Minister. How could I have forgotten? Let me ask," he paused, "what do you plan to do with You-Know-Who's body? And not only his, but what of all the others? Death Eaters and others?"

But McGonagall spoke before Kingsley could answer. "The decision has been made to allow the families of the dead to make their own arrangements for the bodies, and if the families wish to have their loved ones buried on Hogwarts' grounds, then the ceremony will be arranged by the school. Those bodies will be kept in a room that I have been informed will accommodate them well. Do you have any more queries?"

Hem-hem. From the corner next to Harry, Rita's cough sounded like Dolores Umbridge's and McGonagall started. "Minerva, this night must have worn you out a great deal. I am sure that you as well as everyone else in this room are extremely exhausted from your extraordinary efforts tonight. And Potter, oh poor Potter. I mean, he's the boy of the moment—" Harry had a feeling that Rita was getting closer to what she really wanted. McGonagall seemed to feel the same way, for at that moment, she cut off Rita mid-sentence.

"What do you want?" she said bluntly.

Rita's mouth hung open in a comical 'o', but she quickly regained her composure and carried on. "I must talk to Potter. The public should have an accurate first hand account of the events of and leading up to tonight." She leaned against the pensieve waving her long green quill airily, moving closer to Harry. He held his breath as she continued, "Potter's the only one who can give me the full scoop. And frankly he owes the public an explanation. I think we all wonder why he's been invisible this entire year. What, has he been hiding under an invisibility cloak the whole time?" she asked the room at large and laughed throatily.

"Harry is, as you say, exhausted. He is currently in his dormitory sleeping. I will not permit you to see him now." Harry felt a rush of affection toward his former teacher. "When he is rested, he can choose whether or not to entrust the truth with you. However, I can hardly promise he will agree to it. Nothing that comes out of your quill is ever even ten percent honest." Rita's lip had curled involuntarily at this. Just as she was about to throw a retort back at McGonagall, however, there was a sharp rap on the door. Everyone in the room jumped and Harry whipped his head around to face the door.

Kingsley opened it a crack and then, seeing who it was, all the way. In the doorway stood two people, one twisting a lime green bowler hat in his hands and the other's horrible pink cardigan just barely visible to Harry. But it was enough. The scars on the back of his hand burned.