Chapter 11

The Truth Will Out

Most of the school holed in during the week of exams. Students ripped themselves from their studies only to take tests or briefly seek nourishment in the Great Hall at meal time. At last they all came together at supper on the evening of the final exam. Typically this would be a jovial time for everyone, a time to let off some steam after the intensity of the exams, but tonight the mood in the room was different. Most of the students seemed happy enough, but an uneasiness settled over them as they glanced at the vacant seats at the staff table. In addition to Dumbledore still being gone, Professors Hagrid and McGonagall were also missing. The previous evening, Umbridge had taken it upon herself to arrest Hagrid. Somebody had been setting niffler's loose in her office to forage through her shiny items, and she'd pinned the caper on the gamekeeper. Luckily, the half giant had repelled his attackers and escaped, but McGonagall had been severely stunned trying to protect him and sent to St. Mungo's, the hospital for magical maladies.

Professor Umbridge was also absent from the Great Hall. Charity had seen her on the way down to dinner, but the headmistress must have become distracted. In addition, Professor Snape was called away just as dinner was served, and he never returned. The remaining staff members ate their supper in silence at the half empty table. Charity never missed Dumbledore more than she did that evening. With him there, everyone would have felt happy and secure. As it was, leaving Hogwarts for summer break was going to feel more like escaping.

At the end of the meal Professor Flitwick, the most senior professor present, stood on his chair and announced rather awkwardly, "Well then, off to bed with you."

The next morning Charity slept in and very leisurely got herself up and dressed. Her only plan for the day was to read a good book under a tree on the grounds and simply chill out with the students. As she headed toward the third floor staircase she ran into a very welcome surprise.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she shrieked and flew at the tall wizard. She wrapped a violent hug around him as he gently patted her back and lowered her down to the floor. He was surprisingly strong for a man of his age. Recollecting herself, Charity blushed and said, "I'm so sorry. I'm just…I'm just so happy to see you!"

"The feeling is entirely mutual, my dear," he said sincerely. "Now, if you'll pardon my rudeness, I must be off immediately. Do see if you can get someone to fill you in on the events of last night," he called to her as he made his hurried way down the steps.

Charity looked around madly for just this someone. She made it all the way out onto the grounds without success, and as she looked at the excitedly chattering students, she realized that yet again she was the absolute last to know. She slowly backed her way into the castle, filled with a kind of dread. She was used to being in the dark compared to the rest of the staff, but to resort to getting information from students, well, that was simply too much pride to swallow, even for Charity. She now became desperate for the information, but had absolutely no good idea about how to get it.

As she walked down a corridor she heard a firm, "Giddy up," and horse hooves pounded away through the portraits lining the hall. This gave her an idea, and she ran to Filch's broom cupboard, grabbed a cleaning cloth, and set off to find an unoccupied corridor. This did not prove difficult since most of the students were outside enjoying the beautiful June weather. Charity menacingly waved the scrub cloth and intimidated seven men who were enjoying a hearty dinner in a portrait on the first floor into spilling all they knew.

Their story was fascinating. There'd been a scuffle of some magnitude at the Ministry of Magic the prior evening involving Harry Potter and a handful of other students. Rumor was, members of the legendary Order of the Phoenix and several Death Eaters had also been there. Sirius Black had come out of hiding and ended up dead. The surprising thing was, Black had apparently been fighting for the Order and not the Death Eaters. The rumor mill was also full of stories about a prophecy linking young Potter with the Dark Lord. The most chilling part of the story, however, was that Voldemort had most definitely returned to full power, and several witnesses had seen him in the Ministry!

"Dumbledore was telling the truth the whole time," Charity murmured.

"Well of course he was," grouched one of the men in the portrait.

On the bright side, Umbridge had been relieved of her duties at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore was reinstated as Headmaster. Charity was also relieved to note that by no account was Severus Snape involved in the scuffle at the Ministry.

A few days later, as Charity was heading down a first floor corridor, two large boys, who she recognized as Slytherins, waddled past her. They were loaded down with a tartan carpet bag and cloak. Charity rushed in the direction from which they had come and found herself at the top of the marble staircase that led down to the entrance hall. She hurried down the steps, squeaking, "I knew that bag and cloak could only belong to one certain person!"

Standing in the entrance hall was Professor McGonagall, who appeared to be having a tense conversation with Professor Snape.

"Severus," admonished Charity. "You're not giving Minerva a hard time are you? Honestly, she's just returned from the hospital."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Snape, clearly waiting for his retort. When the only response he gave before exiting was, "Yes, well, pleasure to have you back Professor McGonagall," she turned her eyebrows, still stuck high on her forehead, toward Charity.

Charity ignored the expression and put her arm through Professor McGonagall's, saying, "Let me help you up the stairs." She conspiratorially added, "I've got so much news to fill you in on." Charity was eager to prove herself in-the-know for once, but when McGonagall gave her a thin-lipped smile and what Charity read as a pitying look, she said, "Oh, you already know everything don't you? Ah, well, maybe you can tell me a few things," and led her off. McGonagall kept the conversation pointedly on the weather.

The Great Hall was decorated in green and silver, Slytherin house colors, for the end of term feast. It wasn't surprising that Slytherin had won the House Cup. They were an ambitious, if not always ethical, lot and had spent quite a bit of the year sucking up to Umbridge; the points they had accumulated while doing so had proven insurmountable. The mood at the Slytherin table was short of jubilant, however, because as it turned out, the father of a prominent Slytherin student had been arrested as a Death Eater that night at the Ministry.

Charity couldn't have cared less who won the House Cup; she was just thrilled to have the Great Hall feeling like it used to, with Dumbledore and everyone else back. Even Trelawney, who had been reinstated as Professor of Divination, came down to join them. The food was delicious, as usual. When everyone was stuffed and the food had disappeared, all heads turned towards Professor Dumbledore, who had risen to his feet. He surveyed the room like a proud father looking down on his many children.

"I think," he began, "with all the learning that has occurred within these walls this year there, is one lesson, perhaps, that stands out among the rest, and it is this – that adults, even those in authority," he said with a glance toward Umbridge's empty chair, "aren't infallible.

"You have learned that, although it is important to respect authority, it is equally important to recognize when that authority has gone astray. I am very sorry that you've had to learn that in the way you did, but I daresay you're coming away from the experience stronger. You have all made me so proud with your perseverance.

"A large group of you, who've flattered me by calling yourselves Dumbledore's Army, have proven that you are both able and willing to take matters into your own hands when the situation call for it." He bowed his head in respect as he said this, and his blue eyes glistened.

"Others it seems," he continued, turning his gaze toward the Slytherin table, "chose to follow a different path, an easier path. Giving in to authority when it has, shall we say, run amuck, gives honor to no one. Not to worry, however, we all make mistakes and we can only hope that you've come out of the situation the wiser. We have all been given the gift of free will; therefore, we are not doomed to repeat our own mistakes nor the mistakes of our parents. Instead we must learn from them and make better choices for ourselves."

Dumbledore now turned his head once again to the room at large and said, "Now, it brings me great sadness to tell you that you are all going to be asked to grow up sooner than your young years would indicate. What we have known for a year – that Voldemort has returned to power – is now accepted throughout the magical world, and our lives will undoubtedly change because of it. We are at war students," he said with great gravity. There was no twinkle in his eye but a steady gaze that somehow took in the whole room at once. "A war that is very clearly Good versus Evil. It's a war that your parents and grandparents fought before many of you were even born, but we must fight it again. It's a terrifying thought to be sure, but not to worry, because we have something now that we didn't have last time." Soft murmurs of speculation rumbled quietly throughout the large room, and then Dumbledore said simply, "You." Silence ensued and all heads snapped towards the headmaster.

"That's right," he continued, looking out at the surprised faces with the familiar twinkle back in his eyes. "You are the new generation that has already shown great heart and courage. I sleep easier knowing we have you on our side." He beamed at the students, while the students looked around at each other with expressions comprising both surprise and pride.

Hagrid must have caught the terrified look that had crept into Charity's face at Dumbledore's mention of war, because the moment she set her hand on the table, it disappeared under his as he leaned in and told her, "Don' worry, Professor Burbage. Now tha' them gits at the Ministry are finally listenin' to Dumbledore, good things will start happenin.' Tha's righ'," he said as he painfully patted Charity's hand. "We got Dumbledore."

Charity covered one of his knuckles with her other hand and said with a wink, "We've got you too, Hagrid."

Hagrid reached his free hand into his pocket and pulled out his Pocket Dragon, which was no bigger than his smallest fingernail, and said, "An' I have this," as he returned Charity's wink. Charity was happy to note that the Muggle luck charm appeared to be working at last, and Hagrid's sores were healing. She felt a rush of affection for the big man and a new wave of fury at Umbridge for how she'd treated him.

It was a blessing that these ominous events had occurred at the end of the school year, when students could return to the comforts of their homes and families to digest the implications. Charity herself was looking forward to a respite with her mum and dad in their comfortable home on Highbury Street for the next couple of months.