CHAPTER EIGHT
The Department for Occult Regulation
Harry and Ron darted down the corridor, burst through the door and jumped down the flight of stairs. The noise awoke Astoria, who began searching for her wand. When she had it in hand, she once again began the diatribe of screaming the Killing Curse at them. Ron, obviously still shaken from his less-than-warm welcome yelled and ducked away. When Astoria realised that they were heading for the large enterance doors, her screaming ceased, replaced with a whimpering "Where are you going?" to which Harry turned a replied, "Don't worry, we'll be back!" The doors swung open with Harry's determined push, and as he left he turned to Ron. "Do what I said, Ron, get the others here. Keep this quiet Ron, the last thing we need is more violence. I'll get back to Hogwarts as fast as I can and find out what the hell is going on." With this, Harry darted down the winding path leaving an uncertain Ron to disapperate into the darkness.
Harry, not pausing for thought, pointed his wand outside the gates and yelled "Accio Broomstick!" and in an instant, his Broomstick flew towards him, which - in one fluid motion - he grabbed, threw his leg over and kicked off. Fear and hate swam through his mind, Draco was killed by a Muggle weapon, and Astoria was relieved of her powers, what were they going to do at Hogwarts? What was he going to do? He needed to calm down, Harry thought, the Minister had not wanted the wizarding community to be violent, but had Amos foreseen this? Had he been right to tell Ron to keep this quiet? Was he just following the Ministry because it was too scared to act? Harry convinced himself that he did the right thing. He would wait until he arrived at Hogwarts to make any judgement calls. Then, at the worst possible moment, it happened again.
The air around Harry seemed to close in. In the suffocating darkness Harry could see just one thing. A Muggle Hospital, and one that he recognised. Then, as soon as it began it was over. Harry knew what it meant - for once - but it would have to wait. Harry reaffirmed his grip on the Broomstick and flew faster. The weather was becoming worse, the rain slackening his hands as they were wrapped around the sodden wood. His glasses spattered with rain, his hair being plastered to his scalp and his long, maroon cloak drenched. Slowly, the distant landscape came into view, the lake covered in mist shot by, and Hogwarts appeared. The castle itself seemed to be repelling something inside, the bricks and mortar forming the building (which, Harry quickly thought, probably weren't bricks and mortar) seemed to shift uncomfortably in their foundations. Harry touched down outside the main gates, crudely discarded his Broomstick and - as the great doors opened at the behest of a wizard approaching; he noticed slight scorch marks running down the doors themselves.
Harry dashed, as fast as he could, to the Great Hall, where he had no doubt that - whatever was happening - would be happening there. The corridors of Hogwarts were littered with paintings that had no desire to stay within their own canvas. Many of them were deserted, but - Harry noticed - one of the most irritating of these paintings seemed to be following him down the corridor - it was an overly enthusiastic Knight, whose name was Sir Cadogan. As he ran, Harry addressed him: "What is it? I'm in a hurry!" Sir Cadogan, making a considerable amount of, replied - rather contemptuously - "Ye filthy scoundrel! Sir Cadogan wanted to provide the heir to Slytherin with a warning of grave importance!" "Oh, you idiot!" Harry struggled to say, "I'm not the heir of... it doesn't matter! What's the warning!?" Sir Cadogan seemed to enjoy the sight of Harry being completely unaware of what he didn't know. "Those rapscallions who have dared to breach our walls! They wait for you, sir!" At this, Harry stopped running almost immediately. "Me?" he asked. "Why, yes sir!" Sir Cadogan suddenly had the air of someone who was about to drop a massive bombshell, "They won't start their sorting until Sir Potter arrives! That is what she said!" Harry looked around, and noticed that the paintings had stopped, he could not be followed by Sir Cadogan. "OK," he began, "wait here." Harry ran down the corridor towards the Great Hall. Sir Cadogan, meanwhile, shouted down after him, "Wait? Why my heir to Slytherin, I AM YOUR ONLY HOPE!" From the opposite side of the room, a witch in another painting said, with irritable disgust, "Oh, shut up will you!"
He could hear the din of the Great Hall before he reached it, yet this was not a din of excitement but of nervous wonderment. As he reached the doors, Harry steeled himself, and then walked in.
At the sound of the Great Hall doors opening, the entire Hall fell silent. All eyes were fixed on the sight of Harry entering. Harry looked towards the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, and saw his children looking back with troubled, but hopeful faces. He smiled back at them, before scanning the Slytherin table for Scorpius. Harry saw him silently sobbing into his cloak sleeve. Harry wondered, for a moment, why he hadn't noticed the most glaring of changes in the Great Hall. Aligning the walls were a few dozen men and women, dressed in subtle, black uniforms emblazoned with the letters D.O.R. None of them seemed to move, but it wasn't that that disturbed Harry, it was the fact that they seemed to envelop in the same vacuum that surrounded Astoria Malfoy. Harry continued to walk down the centre of the Great Hall. No-one, so far, had said anything directly to him, until, "Professor Potter, could you please sit at the teacher's table?" It was McGonagall, who had stood up. "Yes, Headmistress." Harry replied. As he did so, he noticed something that sent a chill down his spine. He had walked past a rather elegant - if stern - looking woman without noticing her. Or rather, he had noticed her, but wasn't entirely concerned that she was there. Harry continued to keep his gaze locked on the woman, as she smiled pretentiously at him. When Harry sat down, the woman turned back to the waiting crowds of children and teenagers.
"Hello, and welcome to another year at, ahem, Hogwarts." She began the level of contempt clear. "As you may have been no doubt been made aware, we - the Department for Occult Regulation - have been given the go-ahead to investigate the wizarding world, and its activities." Most of the children shifted nervously in their seats. Harry sat, cross-armed in his seat. "Now, a few ground rules before I jump into the, how do you say, meat of this speech. Firstly, we at the DOR may be Muggles, but that doesn't mean we're stupid. Nor are we susceptible to you magic. We have developed a method of protection against it and we advise the students that - if you want this to run swimmingly - you shall not try to practice magic against us. Secondly, none of our highly trained 'staff' will hurt you; you do not have to worry against violence." Harry's rage built up inside him, he wanted to stand and fight - he didn't care about magic, he'd use his fists - it appear that McGonagall noticed, as she put her hand on his arm and lightly shook her head.
The woman continued, "Finally, under no circumstances should attempts be made to contact the outside world without prior DOR inspection. Now, onto business. Our presence here is to purely monitor the wizarding populace, and report back to our superiors. My name - and I hope to learn yours by the time this friendly exercise is over - is Rebecca Cartwright. I am the personal liaison to my headquarters to Hogwarts. The exercise shall work in several stages. First, we shall attend each and every class that is taught in the school. Second, we shall appoint four members of the DOR to be Vice-Heads of all Houses of Hogwarts, to actively monitor the students in more... natural habitats. Thirdly there will, replacing end of year exams, one-on-one interviews with each student. If that is clear, then we shall proceed. David?"
Again, Harry noticed that he wasn't aware of this other Muggles' appearance. The man that, seemingly, appeared from nowhere (even though now that Harry was looking at him, he was sure he was always there) was youthful, younger than Harry, but he looked gaunt and tired. David took the place of Rebecca and began to speak: "H-Hello, my name is David, and I'll be assigning the Vice-Head of Houses. Rebecca shall be with, erm, Ravenclaw... erm, a Professor Longbottom. Gladys Spotswood will be with them, erm, Slytherin and Professor Flint." At these words, a large woman with very little neck and a tight fitting suit appeared and stood at the Slytherin table. "Ahem, Shaun Furlong will attend to the H-Hufflepuff House, with Professor Thomas." Again, without noticing he was originally there, Harry saw a rather well-built man with a chiselled jaw approach the Hufflepuff table. "And finally, I will attend to the Gryffindor House with Professor Lo-" "Potter. Professor Potter is the Head of Gryffindor House." It was McGonagall. She had said these words with such little effort, yet so much determination. Harry simply looked taken aback, he wanted to say something, but quickly realised that McGonagall had done this intentionally. "B-But, a P-Professor Lovegood is down as the Head..." David spluttered. "She left for temporary and personal reasons, though no doubt your friends have found her by now. Professor Potter is, therefore, the temporary Head of that House."
Harry could see that several of the Gryffindor children were brave enough to smile and lightly clap hands. It wasn't until he shot them a look of warning that they stopped. Meanwhile, free from McGonagall's gaze, David continued. "We shall start our evaluations, erm, soon. Erm, don't worry, though because we'll keep you right up to date with all the proceedings as we go." David stood there, stupidly, for a few seconds, before saying "OK, that's all." "Are we free to leave?" McGonagall addressed the question to Rebecca. She looked around at the Hall, before finally saying "Yes, Headmistress, do as you wish." McGonagall addressed the gathering of students, and motioned them to leave, as they did so - in a far more orderly fashion than Harry had ever seen, he approached her. "Minerva, I need a word in your office. It's urgent." "That would be useless, Harry," she began, "they have almost all the rooms tapped with these special devices. Yes, I know, Harry, they aren't supposed to even work in this place, but they've found a way around it." "Come, the back room here is free, as far as I know." Harry looked suspicious as they walked towards the door to the back room, "As far as you know?" He asked. "Well, as you've no-doubt noticed, these Muggles have a certain tenacity for moving around without being noticed." "Yeah," Harry started, "I can't work that out." "Neither can I." McGonagall said.
As they entered the back room, Harry scanned the room with only his eyes. He had the feeling that if the Muggles could do what they've shown in the Great Hall, their devices would hardly be dislodged by magic. "Well, Harry, what did you find at the Malfoy's?" Harry didn't turn to face McGonagall. "We - myself and Ron - found Draco and Astoria." "Well, that's a relief." "No," Harry turned around, "Draco is dead, and - perhaps more disturbing - Astoria is without magical power. In her craze she tried to kill us with the Killing Curse." "Oh my..." started McGonagall, "we have to tell Scorpius." "I know, I'll do it." "Are you sure, Harry, I am just as capable." Harry looked at McGonagall with genuine empathy. "I've been through this. Plus, there's something I have to discuss with him, and only him."
McGonagall looked uncertainly at Harry, before relenting. "You'll need to get - I can't believe I'm saying this - permission - from the Slytherin Vice-Head. Take care with that one, she seems a tough Muggle." She said, sighing. Before he left, Harry turned to the headmistress and said, "As soon as you can, I'll need you to send word to Ron and Hermione, I need them here, and I figure you're the only one - right now - who could get..." "Permission, yes." McGonagall finished. With that Harry turned and left, missing the single tear shed by the headmistress.