10. The Ministry's Call
Lost in a book about Numerology, which she was reading for some additional Arithmancy homework and which disgusted and fascinated her at the same time, Minerva almost walked straight into a suit of armour on her way to Transfiguration. She corrected her course just in time, but she was still so distracted that it took her a while to notice that her classmates weren't waiting outside the classroom, talking amongst themselves, as they usually did.
They were all gathered around an adult wizard Minerva had never seen in the castle before. He definitely wasn't a teacher, and he didn't look like anyone's parent either. As those were the only two options Minerva could think of when it came to people who were allowed to enter the castle, she immediately got a sense of foreboding.
None of her classmates looked particularly alarmed. Minerva hurried to get closer and find out what was going on.
"We all know he's a great wizard, but what else is there?" The adult wizard was asking. "What's it like to be taught by him? Is it scary sometimes?"
"Not really," Augusta answered him, shaking her head.
"Unless he gets angry," Drew argued.
"He rarely ever does, though," Duncan pointed out.
"Yeah, but when he does..." Drew broke off with a shiver.
The strange wizard jumped back in. "What then? What does he do?"
"Er..." said Drew, looking uncertain.
Holter shrugged. "Nothing, really."
"He always looks very disappointed," Alison added.
Whoever they were talking to looked rather disappointed at that, too. "Okay, but what is he teaching you? Spells of his own invention, perhaps? Anything dangerous?"
"Do you remember when we worked with that porcupine and it blasted everyone with its quills because Chase had poked it in the eye?" Holter started laughing.
Chase didn't get a chance to defend himself because the wizard asked eagerly, "Did you get badly hurt?"
Holter stopped laughing. "Er, no. Dumbledore turned the quills into feathers. It tickled a lot, though."
Clearly, that hadn't been the answer this man was looking for.
Augusta now noticed that Minerva had joined them and said, "But you should talk to Minerva. She's his favourite student."
"You are?" Looking excited again, the wizard had turned around to her. "And why is that?"
Rather than answer that, Minerva asked, "Who are you?"
"I'm Greg. Greg Burnside. And what's your full name?"
Now Minerva saw the quill that seemed to be taking notes of everything that was being said, and she put two and two together. "You're from the Daily Prophet!"
"That I am, and you have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to tell our readers what it's like to be around Albus Dumbledore every day!"
Minerva glanced up and down the corridor to see if anyone else had noticed this man. She couldn't fathom how he had just walked in here. He wasn't exactly dangerous and he worked for a respectable newspaper. But she didn't like the way he phrased his questions. It felt off to her somehow.
"I don't think you're supposed to be here," she said sceptically.
"Don't worry. Your teacher let me in," Burnside waved off her concerns. "So how...?"
"Which teacher?" Minerva interrupted him. She could tell that he was beginning to get annoyed with her, though he tried to hide it.
"I see Dumbledore is teaching you to ask a lot of questions. As you should. Perhaps you'd make a fine investigator one day. I'm sure I could arrange a little visit to the paper if you're interested."
Minerva frowned. "Are you trying to bribe me?"
"Galloping Gargoyles! You're not very trusting, are you?" Burnside eyed her more shrewdly. "Which is very smart. Always double-check your sources, that's what I always say. So yes, very clever, which, of course, I suppose you must be if you're Dumbledore's favourite. Though you're wrong in this case. I was merely offering some guidance, help out a keen, investigative mind like yours."
"I thought you were a reporter, not an investigator."
Burnside grinned. "Ah, but that's rather a small distinction, isn't it? Especially in a case like this. The people deserve to know more about their next Minister for Magic!"
"What?" Minerva almost dropped her book in shock.
"You haven't heard yet?" Burnside asked lightly, but his eyes were watching her closely. "Dumbledore's been officially offered the position, as we all knew he would be eventually. Now that he'll be deciding all of our futures, shouldn't we ask ourselves: who is this man, really? And what does he want? But perhaps you know?"
"Know what?"
"What Dumbledore wants."
"I always thought he just wanted to teach," Minerva replied hesitantly. This news had unsettled her more than she had thought it would.
Burnside shook his head and laughed as if he pitied her for being so naïve. "That was never going to last, was it? A man of his calibre? Who isn't even allowed to use his powers to punish any of you?"
"He did lock up those Ravenclaws in the dungeon once in our first year," Chase tried to get back into the conversation. He probably didn't want to be known as the boy who had set off the porcupine.
"Did he now?" Burnside was more than willing to listen.
"No, he didn't! That was just a stupid rumour!" Minerva snapped.
"But you told us yourself that he lifted those boys up in the air and let them hang there to stop them from attacking you," Augusta remembered, though she looked apologetic when Minerva glared at her.
"That didn't hurt them! It just..."
"Humiliated them?" Burnside suggested. "Frightened them? Scarred them for life?"
She hadn't been sure what to think, but now Minerva was certain that Burnside wasn't here to write an unbiased article. "You're trying to discredit Professor Dumbledore!" she accused him.
"Well, think about it, girl. We don't need another article on how Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, except no one seems to know how exactly he did that. Or if he really did that."
"Of course he did! He defeated Grindelwald!" Minerva shot back angrily.
"Eventually, yes."
She realised Burnside just wanted to keep her talking and still she asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Took him long enough, didn't it?" Burnside sneered. "If he really is the greatest wizard that ever lived since Merlin, shouldn't he have stopped it all before people died?"
Minerva had no answer for him. But no matter what Professor Dumbledore had done and at what time, the likes of Burnside had no right to question it.
Only, he wouldn't shut up. "Shouldn't he have stopped hiding behind these walls the minute it became clear to everyone that Grindelwald was a madman whose power could only lead to death and damnation if left unchecked?"
"Professor Dumbledore doesn't hide!" Minerva hissed.
"No? Then what is he doing here in this unplottable old castle, far away from any other wizard who would be a match for him?"
"There is no greater wizard than Professor Dumbledore! And there never will be unless he teaches them!"
Burnside shook his head at her as if this was a marvellous joke when in fact Minerva had never believed in anything more than that.
"Listen to yourself. If he's so powerful, and I'm not saying he isn't, mind you, but if he truly fought a duel so legendary, so filled with advanced magic that eyewitnesses couldn't even name half of the spells that were used, then do you honestly think that this could have ever been his first choice?" Burnside pointed at the old castle walls, the dented suits of armour and at them. "Do you think this could ever be enough? Do you think you're that important to him?"
Until this very moment Minerva had thought that being a reporter was a respectable job, not as important as governing, teaching or healing, but still vital to keep everyone informed about what was going on. But Burnside's words were so venomous and misleading, she decided not to listen to any of it for a second longer.
"Professor Dumbledore is the best teacher this school has ever seen and he is ten times the man you are!" she said, thinking that this was the only quote on Dumbledore she would ever give.
Rather than look intimidated or impressed in any way, Burnside got a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Really? How close are you and Dumbledore exactly?"
Suddenly terrified, Minerva glanced at the quill that was still recording everything that was being said. She hadn't realised that in the hands of a man like Burnside, all of her words could end up hurting Professor Dumbledore, if misconstrued and taken out of context. So she thought it best not to say anything anymore and tried to walk away from him and this conversation.
Burnside quickly stepped to the right to block her path. "Run out of things to say, have you?"
"Get out of my way!"
"So you can hide just like your hero Dumbledore?"
Her anger flaring, Minerva pulled out her wand and pointed it at Burnside's hat, turning it into the fattest, most giant rat she could think of (and even that didn't do him justice).
With a horrified yelp, Burnside tried to sling the rat away from him, which caused Minerva's classmates to scream and jump out of the way. Suddenly everyone was screaming as the rat scurried away.
"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?"
Professor Slughorn strode purposefully towards them, though he gave the rat a wide berth, and he was quickly followed by... Professor Dumbledore.
Minerva was tempted to yell a warning, but she caught herself just in time, as that would have been extremely stupid. If anyone was in danger now, it was Burnside. The lines on Professor Dumbledore's face could have just as well been set in stone.
Slughorn reached them first. "Greg, what are you doing here? I told you I would go and get Dumbledore for you! I told you to wait for me in the Entrance Hall!"
Somehow Minerva wasn't surprised that Slughorn was the one who had let Burnside into the castle. She was willing to bet that he had been in Slytherin once, too.
"I was going to wait for you. I just happened to meet this fine group of Gryffindors who were nice enough to answer a few questions for me," Burnside replied with a horribly fake smile.
"Is that how the Daily Prophet reports the news these days? By accosting underage witches and wizards without their parents' consent?" Dumbledore had caught up with them and his voice couldn't have been colder if someone had cast a Freezing Spell.
"We were just talking, Dumbledore!" Burnside replied, trying to laugh it off.
Professor Dumbledore was not laughing in the least. He wasn't even smiling. "In that case, I shall thank you not to speak to my students again and to vacate the premises as unsolicited as you've entered them."
Burnside's smile froze. "Of course, I'll leave the children to their studying, though I don't think that teaching them to turn hats into rats is what their parents sent them here for. But either way, I was promised an interview with you, Dumbledore."
"I have not made any such promises."
Clearly annoyed now, Burnside looked from Dumbledore to Slughorn, who reddened. "Ah, yes, well, turns out today doesn't work for us after all. I'm terribly sorry, Greg. Perhaps another time?"
"I don't think so, no," Dumbledore said icily.
Burnside was brave or stupid enough to take a step closer to Dumbledore. "You cannot hide from the press forever, Dumbledore. Certainly not if you fancy yourself sitting in that office in London soon."
"Under different circumstances I would certainly invite you to sling your cleverly veiled insults at me, but I'm late for my next class. And as I'm not inclined to take points from my own house for tardiness, I would very much like to start my lesson now," Dumbledore replied.
"Fine," huffed Burnside, stuffing away his quill and rolling up his parchment. "I'm leaving."
Dumbledore held out a hand. "I'll be taking that then."
Burnside's eyes darted from Dumbledore's hand to his scroll of parchment with everything that had been said here today. "Oh no! You don't have to talk to me, Dumbledore, but you can't take that. You're not Minister just yet. You can't take my personal property."
"Within the walls of this school I can confiscate anything that poses a threat to my students. Since you've recorded them without asking for their consent, if we were to pretend for a moment that it was up to them to give it to you, this scroll most definitely qualifies," Dumbledore explained quite patiently.
But when Burnside hesitated and his hand inched closer to his pocket where he must have stashed his wand, Professor Dumbledore's eyes flashed in warning. "I would strongly advise you not to test my resolve, Gregory."
"Threats, Dumbledore?" Burnside sneered, curling his hand into a fist, probably to hide that it was shaking. "That's not very becoming of the next Minister for Magic."
"Perhaps. But as a teacher, you leave me with no other choice if you insist on harassing my students."
Snorting derisively and gritting his teeth, Burnside handed over his scroll and stormed off.
"Horace, if you please," Professor Dumbledore said quietly. Slughorn nodded and followed Burnside. Probably to make sure he was really leaving.
In the meantime Dumbledore pocketed the scroll of parchment. Minerva followed it anxiously with her eyes. She could only hope that he would never read it.
For now he opened the Transfiguration classroom and they all filed inside. But they were way too upset about what had just happened to quiet down.
"We didn't tell him anything bad about you, Professor!" Holter said loudly.
"Yes, we told him that we love having you as a teacher," Alison nodded.
"But also that you'll be a great Minister for Magic!" Duncan added.
"The best!" Drew agreed.
Professor Dumbledore surveyed them with a smile, but he raised a hand to put an end to these proclamations. "That's very kind of all of you, but please settle down now. We have already lost enough of the precious time we have together, so I would like to return to more important matters."
They exchanged curious glances, having a lot more questions but not daring to ask them after Dumbledore had made it clear that now was not the time. When the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, he let them go without homework. Minerva was halfway to the door before Professor Dumbledore stopped her in her tracks.
"Miss McGonagall, a word, please?"
Minerva sighed and nodded to Augusta to go ahead. After everyone else had left, she turned around to face her teacher. "I'm sorry about the rat, Professor," she said right away. "I just wanted him to leave me alone. He was so horrible…"
"Rat?" Professor Dumbledore's forehead creased. "The only rat I saw will have been accompanied off the castle grounds by Professor Slughorn by now."
Surprised, Minerva met his gaze.
"I'm not looking for an apology from you," Dumbledore explained. "On the contrary, I believe I owe you an apology since Gregory Burnside only bothered you on my behalf."
"Er, that's okay," Minerva said hesitantly.
She still felt terribly awkward after their recent row in class. As soon as she had come to her senses again that day, she had sat down to do that stupid homework she should have done in the first place. Except, she had made it twelve feet long rather than the two and a half Professor Dumbledore had asked for. That hadn't been an easy feat. It had been a fairly simple and straightforward essay question, but Minerva had made it work by borrowing every book she could find on the subject. Dumbledore had accepted her essay (and the gesture she had hoped to make with it), and he hadn't mentioned the incident since then.
Minerva wasn't sure if that meant that she had been forgiven or if Professor Dumbledore was simply too gracious to hold a grudge. Either way, it made it impossible for her to understand men like Burnside.
"Why does he hate you so much, sir?"
"Oh, he doesn't hate me," Dumbledore replied. "He's just doing his job. He probably thinks that finding dirt on me will make his career."
"He won't find anything!" Minerva said stubbornly.
There was a soft smile on Dumbledore's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes when he said, "Well, if he doesn't, I'm sure he'll simply drag up my poor father again."
Minerva stared at her Head of House, who had never uttered a single word about his family before or mentioned anything else that was of a more personal nature, other than perhaps his favourite food. "Your father? Sir?"
Professor Dumbledore heaved a sigh. "My father died in Azkaban."
Shocked, Minerva almost dropped her bag. She would have been more inclined to believe that Professor Dumbledore's father had toured the land with a bunch of singing Bowtruckles, dancing the Charleston. But she supposed there was no reason for Dumbledore to lie about his father having been a criminal.
"What… what did he do?" she asked when she had found her voice again.
"He attacked three Muggles. The incident was well publicised at the time, but it's been a good fifty years. This Minister for Magic business will certainly be an opportune moment to bring it up again." Dumbledore had looked thoughtful, but now he focused on her again. "I'm only telling you this because I don't want you to think that anything they'll be writing about me in the Daily Prophet in the next couple of days is in any way your fault."
"But it's not your fault either!" Minerva said quickly. "I mean, you can't be held responsible for what your father did. Duncan's right. You will be the best Minister for Magic we ever had!"
There was a short pause.
"I must say I'm quite overwhelmed by the outpouring of support you and your classmates have shown me today," Dumbledore then said, his eyes bright.
Minerva really wanted to leave it at that, but she couldn't. "Except, I don't really want you to become Minister for Magic," she confessed.
"Oh?" said Dumbledore, raising an eyebrow.
"I know that's selfish, and I shouldn't even be in Gryffindor saying that. I know I've done lots of stupid things lately and I'm going to fix that. I want to be the best witch I can be. But I'll need you to teach me."
Professor Dumbledore practically X-rayed her with his piercing blue eyes. "Well," he said slowly, "as it turns out, rumours of my becoming the next Minister for Magic are greatly exaggerated."
"They are?" Minerva asked confused and barely daring to hope. "Did they not offer you the position?"
"Oh, they did," Dumbledore confirmed cheerfully. "And I politely declined, or so I hope. So you see, you won't get rid of me that easily."
"But why? I mean, why did you turn it down?" Minerva asked. She was relieved, but she couldn't fathom saying no to the Ministry. She was so impressed that she only noticed belatedly that this was a rather personal question to ask.
Professor Dumbledore didn't seem offended. "All things being equal, I don't think I will ever find a prettier view than the one from my office window here at Hogwarts. Especially with the Ministry being underground."
Minerva couldn't help but laugh. "That's not a real answer, Professor."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "Perhaps. But since we just established that I will continue to serve as your Head of House and Transfiguration professor, it's the only answer I can give you today."
"That's okay, Professor," Minerva decided. "I'd much rather keep you as a teacher than have an answer."
"I'm oh so glad to hear that."