The Minister's Visit

Sitting in the History of Magic classroom, James stifled a yawn as Professor Binns droned on in his dull monotone voice to the second-year Gryffindors. Oftentimes during History of Magic, when James was especially sleepy, he could take off his glasses and look right through the ghost professor, almost not seeing his shimmering outline at all; however, today James could not fall asleep no matter how hard he tried, so he resorted to restlessly tapping his fingers on his desk while he stared out of the window longingly.

"A proud pureblood, Salazar Slytherin tried to convince Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff to limit their Houses' students to those of pure wizarding families. The other founders would not relent, and a row ensued between Gryffindor and Slytherin, sending the latter away from Hogwarts permanently. Some say he left to the upper regions and trained students who met his criteria, but the existence of such a school was never proved . . ."

Sighing, James watched the Forbidden Forest in silence. He could not spy Hagrid's hut from his position, but he knew it stood just out of his line of sight. In fact, he thought he saw a wisp of smoke blowing from its direction.

". . . descendants have refused to respond to questioning or even acknowledge any such rumors . . ."

After a few moments, James decided disinterestedly that the smoke could not be coming from Hagrid's cabin. It grew fainter the closer it traveled to the castle, and the source had to be deep within the Forbidden Forest, judging by how quickly the fog petered out. Besides, the smoke was old; it had a dark gray, almost black color, and it disconnected in several places as if burning out. Fingering an unused quill on the desk, James wondered what the centaurs were doing late last night in the forest.

All of a sudden, the room erupted into motion as the students began packing their belongings and shuffling towards the door. Looking at the clock on the far wall, James followed their lead as Professor Binns continued speaking; oblivious to the commotion, he talked dutifully on until someone dropped their books loudly in the first row and jerked him out of his stupor.

"Oh, time already?" he asked, glancing at the clock as well. "See you all next week, then . . ."

Completely ignoring him, the students exited and stifled their yawns while they headed for their other classes. After leaving the classroom, James joined his roommates on the way out.

"I don't know how many times I've heard that story," Sirius told the others on their way to Herbology. "If I hear one more lecture about the glory of Salazar Slytherin and his legacy, I'm going to go mad."

"It was all new to me," Peter said. "I didn't know that he left the school."

"Apparently, no one knows what happened to him after he left," Remus spoke up from behind Hogwarts: A History.

"Eh, he probably became a hermit on some faraway mountain and died with his stash of Firewhiskey," James guessed, shrugging. "I don't think that he could have started another school without someone finding it after all these years."

"Still, it's not like his ideology died out," Remus put in. "If he began teaching children his beliefs . . ."

"It's not like he needed any help with it," Sirius interjected. "There are plenty of other wizarding families who agree with him."

"But loads of those families are descended from him, right?" Peter asked.

"Sure, but not all of them," Sirius answered. "It's rubbish to think that he started the whole pureblood nonsense by himself."

"Do you think that he started a school after Hogwarts?" James asked Remus, who closed his book.

"No," he replied. "It's very unlikely."

"Well, that settles it," Sirius announced, clapping his hands. "My next essay for History of Magic will be about the idiocy of Salazar Slytherin and everyone in his House, focusing mainly on the malarkey of his opinions and the superiority of Gryffindor."

"Don't forget the Quidditch Sweep of 1513 to 1576," James spoke up.

"Ah, yes, when Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup for sixty-three years straight," Sirius approved, nodding. "If that doesn't convince Professor Binns, nothing will."

"You two are really strange," Remus told them, and James and Sirius laughed as they walked out onto the school grounds. However, James suddenly sobered as he spotted an unusual sight in the distance.

"Not nearly as strange as that," he said, pointing. Looking ahead in the indicated direction, the four boys jogged past the greenhouses and towards the front gate of Hogwarts, where a collection of older wizards and witches were gathered. Spotting Dumbledore just in front of the crowd, James drew to the side with a group of curious Hufflepuffs, who had also been sidetracked from their journey to Herbology.

"It's the Minister!" Rachel Appleworth gasped suddenly, and the students began whispering excitedly while James stepped forward for a closer look.

Surprised, he immediately recognized the Minister, Eugenia Jenkins, from photographs in The Daily Prophet. Her golden hair bounced in a loose bun as she faced Dumbledore, and although she was rather young, several wrinkles around her eyes disclosed the pressures of her position. Several reporters stood clustered around her and Dumbledore, each one holding a camera or eagerly jotting notes down with a quill.

Seeing that the group had brought unwanted attention, a tweedy man stepped out from the congregation and pushed the students back. "Quiet, children! Keep quiet, please!" he pleaded, making sure that they did not intrude into the view of the cameras. Noticing the students, Dumbledore shot them a sideways glance before turning his annoyed expression back to the Minister.

"When you requested a private chat, I assumed that you knew the definition of the phrase," he told her reproachfully, standing so as to not let the reporters pass beyond the gates. Unabashed, the Minister shook her head and set her bun to bouncing again.

"You know that I never travel alone," she responded, "and I was hoping that you could give some reassurance to the public. They adore you, you know."

"I have given the public quite enough assurance," Dumbledore replied, "but I prefer to do so outside of school property. This is supposed to be a place of learning, not propaganda."

Shaking her head as if knowing she could not convince him otherwise, the Minister turned and addressed the reporters. "Go on, then. Best leave us be, or I'll never get that chat."

Somewhat despondently, the reporters turned away and trudged outside the gates. One of them stopped over a small keychain lying in the grass and looked back at the Minister.

"Pick me up in an hour," she told him with a wave of her hand, and he nodded and bent down for the chain. With a sudden twisting motion, his body disappeared as if being sucked into a vortex, and the other reporters found objects of their own in the field and began to vanish on the spot.

"Portkeys," Remus whispered to his roommates as the tweedy man started to shoo the students away.

"Go on, go on, run back to your business! Nothing to see here!"

Disappointed, the small group retreated a few paces before watching curiously as Dumbledore invited the Minister to walk towards the castle. Eyeing her bouncing golden bun as she accepted his offer, James turned back to his friends.

"Well, that was interesting," Remus commented. "What do you think the Minister is here for?"

"Let's find out," James suggested, heading up the hill after the pair. Jumping forward, Sirius fell into step behind him while throwing his books unceremoniously onto the ground.

"Wait!" Remus called out, casting worried glances back at the Hufflepuffs heading for the greenhouses. "It's almost time for Herbology!"

"So?" James yelled back.

"We can't just leave!" Remus exclaimed. Looking back and forth between Remus and the others briefly, Peter started running up the hill as well.

"Wait!" Remus cried again, but the others paid him no attention. Trudging towards the castle, James watched as Dumbledore and the Minister disappeared behind the great double doors. After a moment, Remus came up beside him.

"If we get into trouble, I'm going to kill you," he sighed, dropping his book bag onto the grass.

Together, the four stepped into the Entrance Hall and looked around for a sign of Dumbledore and the Minister. Unfortunately, the pair had apparently already left the area in search of somewhere quieter.

"Up here!" James beckoned, and they ran up the nearby stairs and headed for the gargoyle hall on the second floor. When they rounded the corner, they spotted their quarry at the end of the hallway, where they were entering through the hole in the wall that led up to the Headmaster's office. After they had disappeared, the four boys sprinted towards the gap, which began to close as the gargoyle that normally covered the opening slid back into place.
"Stupefy!" Sirius yelled, pointing his wand at the statue. A jet of red light erupted out of his wand tip, and it smashed squarely into the gargoyle, causing it to freeze in place. Looking self-satisfied, Sirius pocketed his wand while the others stared at him.

"Where did you learn that?" Peter asked, astounded.

"Malfoy, last year in Dumbledore's office," Sirius replied, suppressing a smile as they passed the gargoyle. "You know, just picked it up."

Quietly climbing the winding stairs which led to the office, the four tiptoed to the door and leaned forward to listen through the wood. Judging by the sounds of footsteps and moving cushions, Dumbledore and Jenkins were probably sitting down near the center of the room, just in front of the far window.

"We shouldn't be here," Remus whispered nervously, glancing back down the stairs. Putting their fingers to their lips and glaring at him, James and Sirius turned back to the door.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with me," the Minister thanked Dumbledore, her voice slightly muffled. "I know how busy your schedule must be."

"I assure you, it is," Dumbledore answered, but he kept his tone polite. "Now I believe that I explicitly told you to keep the Hogwarts grounds media-free."

"Ah, but I thought that you knew the importance of public interest," she replied lightheartedly. "If I spent my days locked up in my office, nothing would ever get done, and the people would certainly revoke my position."

"The only opinions that I am worried about are those of my students," Dumbledore told her placidly.

"Ah, the mighty Albus Dumbledore, always the family man," Jenkins sighed. "You could have been so much more, you know."

"This is not the point of your visit, and I am quite happy where I am," he answered. "Now, what do you want to see me for?"

"And always to the point," Jenkins said. "I was wondering if you know the extent of the danger that our community is in."

"No one is more familiar with the threat that Lord Voldemort poses than I am."

"Then you know how quickly his army is growing. He has influence, Albus, influence far greater than I ever suspected one person could possess. I'm afraid that he's already infiltrating the Ministry, and I fear for Hogwarts as well."

"Although I understand your concern, I assure you that there is nothing going on within the grounds that I do not know about," Dumbledore stated firmly. "I have my eyes open."

"Still, if we combine forces under the public eye, the people would feel more secure," the Minister argued. "They respect you, perhaps more than they respect me. If you could just give an appearance at the Ministry, I'm sure that the Dark Lord will think twice before he—"

"The Dark Lord doesn't think once," Dumbledore interrupted, "and I highly doubt that he would hesitate just because we shake hands and smile for the cameras."

"Albus!" Jenkins exclaimed, but Dumbledore cut her off.

"I am grateful for your concern, but my place is here."

"You belong with the Ministry as well," Jenkins put in with a hint of anger behind her voice. "Do you forget that you are the Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot? I thought that you held the Ministry in high regard."

"As everyone should, but I think that your efforts are best spent elsewhere," Dumbledore responded. "I believe that we would do the most good where we are: you protecting the people, and I training a new generation of wizards. You are in constant need of reinforcements, correct? I have them for you right here: just give me a few years."

"Children are hardly equipped to fight a war."

"But they will be. On the one hand, I can do nothing other than prepare them for the danger that lies ahead. Powers of persuasion do not work on unwilling minds. However, I can assure you as to the quality of their education. In fact, following the recent addition of another member of staff, I have required all students to take Defense Against the Dark Arts for their personal safety."

"Are you speaking of your new hire? Wasn't his name Alamanzar?"

"Yes, receiver of Quixote's Cross, Second Class, for his experiments in medicinal spell-work. Frankly, I could not think of a better candidate for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. However, as I am sure you are aware, Hogwarts is full of instructors above and beyond the qualifications for the job. Minerva, Filius, Pomona, and Horace in particular are well-versed in their subjects."

"Yes, yes, but aren't you a little concerned about this Alamanzar fellow?" Jenkins inquired. "He isn't from our neck of the woods, so to speak, and he may not have the knowledge that we do about the Dark Lord—"

"I can think of no one more qualified. If I had any worries, I would not have hired him. As things stand, the only thing that I need concern myself with are the four boys listening outside of this room."

Alarmed, James did not have time to move as the door swung open from the inside, apparently manipulated by Dumbledore from his spot on the couch; astounded, the Minister stared accusingly at James and his roommates.

"If you are going to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, try to do it more subtly," Dumbledore told them. "Gargoyles have ways of communicating, you know." Turning back to Jenkins, he stood and said, "Tea at your place next time. I really must be getting back to work. As you see, I have a lot on my hands at the moment."

Nodding succinctly, the Minister stood and crossed to the door, giving the boys a hard glare as she brushed past them and headed down the stairs. Fearfully, James turned back to Dumbledore.

"You four had better get going," the Headmaster spoke, hands clasped behind his back. "You have a class to attend, I believe?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused quickly before back-pedaling out of the door before he could change his mind and give them detention.

"That was close," Peter exhaled on the way down.

"I don't think that he likes to give out punishments," Sirius began. "Remember how he—"

"Don't be daft," Remus snapped. "He obviously didn't mind that we heard the conversation, otherwise we would be on our way to our Head of House right now."

"Are you saying that he knew where we were the whole time?" James asked.

"Regardless of whether he did or not, he obviously wanted us to hear the end," Remus answered. "He wasn't about to let us go without affirming the safety of the school."

"The Minister was just being paranoid," Sirius said dismissively. "I honestly think she's losing it. Remember all those Muggle attacks last year? She wasn't able to do a thing without Dumbledore there backing her up."

"That's why she's trying to get him to help again," Remus informed them. "Everyone trusts him, and the public will stay happy with the Minister if they feel safe under the protection of two superpowers."

"Isn't that cheating?" James asked.

Remus shrugged. "It works."

"Do you think Dumbledore was being serious when he said that he was training an army?" Peter asked, both awed and nervous.

"He sure sounded serious!" James replied excitedly. "Just think: he's preparing us to defeat Lord Voldemort!"

At the mention of Voldemort's name, Peter gasped nervously and glanced over his shoulder while Remus grabbed James' arm. "Don't be ridiculous; we're not about to fight anyone! Dumbledore was just saying that to make the Minister happy." Although Remus spoke harshly, James caught a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"I, for one, would love to be in the thick of things!" Sirius attested. "We'd get to hunt down Death Eaters, fight duels every other day—"

"Keep your voice down," Remus hissed, glancing around. "We weren't even supposed to hear their conversation."

"I thought you said that Dumbledore didn't mind," James pointed out, and Sirius laughed as Remus gave him a sour look. "What if he wants us to be prepared? What if he wants us to start training for battle?"

"Oh, come off it," Remus told him. "If you aren't going to listen to sense, just don't spread any rumors, all right? Let's keep this to ourselves."

"War affects everyone, mate," Sirius interjected with a grin, receiving another scowl.

"Don't worry: we won't tell anyone," James promised. "Dumbledore didn't tell them, did he?"

Smiling smugly, he turned back to his own thoughts. If Dumbledore had really intended for them to hear his conversation, what did it mean? Was he just trying to convince them of Hogwarts' safety, or was he trying to tell them something? Looking over his shoulder at the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, he regarded it thoughtfully; although he would keep his promise to Remus, Dumbledore's words were sure to bother him for the next few weeks.