In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 12: Audit
Harry landed Thursday morning in his four poster bed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He climbed out of the curtains, undressed, and walked into the shower. He turned on the knob, only a mist came out of the shower head before it stopped.
"Blimey!" Harry exclaimed, shaking the shower head.
Pink, pink, and yellow flower petals began to flutter, poured down from the shower head.
Click!
Colin was there, camera aimed at Harry in the shower.
"Colin!" Harry barked.
"Turn around, lemme get that arse crack," Colin said.
"Get the fuck OUT!" Harry growled.
Harry tried the other shower head, it poured out orange and Gryffindor red flower petals.
Click! Click!
Harry gave up on the shower, and knew he couldn't use the Portkey with Colin there; nor did he want to go into the other dormitories. He resigned himself to not showering, hoping he could do it later, and went over to his trunk. Colin brought the camera close to Harry's crotch, aimed it.
Click! Click!
"Get out you…Slytherin!" Harry barked.
"Alright, alright," Colin said, backing away, camera around his waist.
Click! Click!
Colin went out the door. Harry rummaged in his trunk.
An owl dropped it's newsprint into the clutches of Hermione in the Great Hall. She laid down the special edition of Witch Weekly near her light breakfast when Neville came in. He blushed as he passed.
"Come on, sit," Hermione said, pointing to the bench next to her.
"You're dating me," Ron said, before working a sausage patty into his mouth, "Remember?"
"Neville's a friend too," Hermione retorted to Ron.
Neville sat on the bench.
"Get a bit closer you two," Seamus said, passing them, "Hate to break it to you Ron, but are you sure she wasn't alone last night?"
"She slept with me," Ron said.
"Thank him for covering up the truth," Seamus retorted.
"Ignore him," Neville whispered as Seamus moved along, "He's just mad that you haven't slept with him."
"Why would I want to sleep with him?" Hermione asked.
"Rumor is…sorry, I'm just saying what I've heard," Neville said, "That you'll sleep with anybody."
"MOVE!" Ron barked at Neville.
Neville did this, moved down to sit with Seamus.
"Ignore them," Hermione said.
"Interesting," Ron said, as Harry entered the Great Hall.
"What's in today's trash?" Harry asked as he came to them.
Hermione glanced, saw the flower petals in his hair.
"New fashion?" Hermione asked as Harry sat. Ron shoved the plate of sausage patties in front of Harry.
"Tell me you didn't do something to the shower," Harry asked.
"In the shower, yes," Ron said, "Why the flowers?"
Harry ran his hand back through his hair, pulled a couple more petals out.
"If you see any of Colin's cameras, bust them," Harry said, "RON!"
Ron held a sausage near Harry's face. Harry grabbed it, nibbled at it.
"Hey," Ron said as he pointed.
Harry stopped sipping the pumpkin juice from his cup, glanced up at the Staff Table. A tall and slender warlock, dressed in sky blue robes, was standing next to Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall walked along the aisle, handed out a revised schedule to Harry.
"It'd help if you were on time for a change Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said.
Professor McGonagall kept on passing out the schedules to the Gryffindor table, while Professor Flitwick was handing out schedules to the Ravenclaw table. With a slow rise, Dumbledore's hand trembled on his cane as he stood; the other hand gripped his chair.
"Good morning," Dumbledore said, " … Another day. … To my right is … Victor Fallerschain, … the Minister of Magic. … During his stay, … you are to … give him … your full cooperation."
Minister Fallerschain swept past Dumbledore, his eyes roved across the hall at the various students.
"As you are all aware," Minister Fallerschain said, "I am crusading against the waste and corruption that has gripped the Ministry for so many ages. This crusade has caught the eye of your board of governors. At their request, I will be personally conducting an audit into the affairs of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Within several days, with your help, we should be able to find efficiencies to be had and reduce the unnecessary overhead expense to better allow your teachers to educate you with maximum results.
"With the help of my assistants, we will interview every student. Professor McGonagall has graciously reworked your schedules to accommodate the interviews. Together we can improve Hogwarts so that it can still be a beaming icon of Britain that shines throughout the world, an institute that has produced the finest of Wizards and Witches through the ages.
"Thank you for your valuable input."
Neville raised his eye as he peered at the schedule.
"Professor McGonagall appeared frustrated at last night's Prefect meeting," Dean said from nearby, "With all of the demands of the week, I think she gave up trying to make it work. It's a small break for everybody, save the interviews."
Ron read his schedule. "Bugger, likely saving the juiciest for last."
"More than we needed to know," Seamus said.
Harry stood, Ron and Hermione followed, along with the exodus of the other students.
"Suppose with this time—Quidditch practice?" Ron asked.
"Sure," Harry said.
"You're not supposed to—" Hermione started.
"I can still advise the others," Harry said.
Ron and Harry made up the steps fast to their dormitory. They changed into their Quidditch robes. Harry mounted his Firebolt, opened the window, and flew out into the sunny morning. Ron followed, and most of the the Gryffindor Quidditch team gathered at the pitch. They practiced.
As the morning drew to a close, Ron led most of the team back up to the castle. Harry, meanwhile, felt hot and sweaty, but wasn't ready to return, so he flew over to the edge of the lake, near the forest and landed. He removed his Quidditch Robes, undressed, and put the robes with his broom on the ground. Harry took the few steps into the lake; the water had some bite, but he could tolerate it. Harry swam out, touched the remains of an old swimming platform, returned to the shore; he repeated this several times.
After Friday's breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to the library to pass the time.
"I'm guessing we're last," Ron said.
"Likely," Harry said.
"A little Quidditch to get the mind off of it," Ron said.
"No!" Hermione said, "The Minister for Magic is watching! I heard he wasn't too pleased with your impromptu practice yesterday!"
"He gave us a load of free time," Ron said, "What'd he expect? Study?"
"This is a school Ronald," Hermione said, "Of course he'd expect you to study."
"Quidditch is sacred!" Ron replied.
"Of course it is," Harry said.
"Thanks Harry," Ron said.
Hermione glared.
"There is another way to pass the time," Ron said, his eyes steadied themselves on Hermione.
"It's the library!" Hermione said.
"Your wildest dream," Ron said, "But, we'll just bang quietly."
Harry snickered.
"It's not funny," Ron said.
"Yes it is, go ahead," Harry said, "I give you permission."
"Harry!" Hermione quipped.
"If you want to be discreet, keep it in the restricted section," Harry said.
"The restricted section it is!" Ron announced.
"No!" Hermione said.
"Later?" Ron asked.
Hermione remained mum.
They remained in the library, focused on reading. Harry and Ron worked on a couple of overdue essays until the mid morning bell.
"It's time," Harry said.
They packed up their bookbags, made to the fifth floor and approached the office as Dean Thomas came out.
"Where've you been?" Dean asked.
"They saved the best for last," Ron said.
"That's rich," Dean said.
Harry led the way into the office.
"You're late!" Minister Fallerschain snapped.
"Where's Dumbledore—?" Harry asked.
"Unnecessary—" Minister Fallerschain said.
"We were told—" Harry protested.
"I AM running this show!" Minister Fallerschain said, "Unless you're saying you're guilty of something, you won't need him. Mr. Ronald Weasley will be first—"
"Just start asking—" Ron said.
"Unless you intend to obstruct official Ministry business…" Minister Fallerschain said.
Ron followed Minister Fallerschain into an inner office. A solitary chair was beside the door, while a desk was on the other end of the office. Ron sat on the chair while Minister Fallerschain sat on the desk. With a flick of Minister Fallerschain's yew wand, the door locked itself and shimmered for a moment. Another flick and the illumination in the office shifted and concentrated the light onto Ron, for Ron could no longer see Minister Fallerschain or the bare walls. A scratching of a quill onto parchment could be heard.
"A Quick Quotes Quill will be used," Minister Fallerschain asked, "Will that be alright?"
"No," Ron said.
However, the minister ignored this, the Quick Quotes Quill became active.
"For the record, state your full name, your date of birth, and describe your wand."
"Ronald Bilius Weasley. March 1st, 1980. Fourteen inches, unicorn tail–hair in willow."
"Do you have any friends?"
"Yes, Harry and Hermione."
"When did you first meet them?" Minister Fallerschain asked.
"On my first train to Hogwarts," Ron said, "How relevant is this?"
"Context," the Minister said, "And I'd know how uncomfortable this makes everybody, so a bit of pleasantness before we get to the rest of the questions."
"Oh," Ron said.
"Five years ago, was an object of immense value was stored at Hogwarts?" the Minister asked.
It took Ron a moment.
"You mean the Philosopher's Stone?" Ron asked.
"Yes, that," Minister Fallerschain said, "Is it true that it was guarded?"
"Yes," Ron said.
"How did he protect it?" the Minister asked.
"Traps," Ron said, "We barely made it."
"In a school?" the Minister asked.
"Yes," Ron said.
"So, did the Headmaster value this object over the lives of the students that he's been obligated to protect?" the Minister asked.
"Um…" Ron muttered.
"Now, for your second year," the Minister said, "Did you or did you not fly a car into the Whomping Willow?"
"Yes," Ron said, "Didn't mean to, we lost power."
"But the Headmaster elected not to expel you?" the Minister asked.
"It wasn't his decision to make," Ron asked.
"As Headmaster, it is always his decision," the Minister said, "Who paid for the damages?"
"So you are saying that you deliberately helped Sirius Black escape?" Minister Fallerschain asked Harry, nearly an hour after his interview had started, which had followed Ron's and Hermione's half hour each.
"Sirius Black is innocent!" Harry stammered. Harry rubbed his forehead.
"I do not hold you to blame," Minister Fallerschain said, "I'm sure that is what the Headmaster wanted you to believe."
"He is!" Harry snapped.
"Just like him not holding you accountable when you slipped your name into the Goblet of Fire," the Minister said.
"I didn't do it," Harry said.
"Sure, good thing the Headmaster bought that," the Minister said, "What a shame he didn't pull you out of the contest."
"I had no choice!" Harry said, "It was a binding contract!"
"A contract that could have been satisfied by a little dueling contest," the Minister said, "Declare a winner, and hold the rest of the festivities as a beauty contest. Fleur Delacour would have won, though I'm sure your Headmaster would have put a vote in for Cedric Diggory instead, that was a shame."
"Cedric was murdered!" Harry said.
"Convenient way to win," the Minister said.
"I did not!" Harry exclaimed.
"Of course not," the Minister said, "A thousand Galleons says it was somebody else."
"It was not me," Harry said, "I need Professor Dumbledore."
"No need to bother the Headmaster," the Minister said, "Lets move on. It was nicely generous how the Headmaster nominated you to take credit with supposedly saving Hogwarts last term."
"It was occupied," Harry said, "We freed them."
"Sure, an underage wizard?" the Minister said, "Doubtful, but good cover for the Headmaster's own incompetence allowing for the situation to happen in the first place. Alas, the North Tower is no longer there."
"Voldemort destroyed it!" Harry sputtered.
"Do not say his name!" the Minister scolded.
"Fear of a name—" Harry started.
"Just how many times have you been to the Hospital Wing, this term?" the Minister asked.
The interview continued for another half hour.
"I'm sorry if I was rough," the Minister said, "Tough questions must be asked."
"Whatever," Harry said as he left the inner office.
"Thought he was about to kidnap you," Ron said as they went into the corridor.
They went up, passed Peeves plugging gum into another door lock, and entered the Gryffindor Common room. Seamus and Parvati were snogging on the sofa.
"That was an interrogation, not an interview," Harry complained, "Wouldn't take no for an answer."
"Your fault for not taking an adult!" Seamus said as he glanced upward, "Quit your whining—he's a great Minister! With this audit—he's fantastic! We spent the time talking about Quidditch and the Falmouth Falcons—"
"He had it in for me—" Harry said.
"Just because you couldn't exert your influence on him?" Seamus said, "In the two weeks on the job, he's boosted donations to St. Mungo's by fifty percent, slashed tons of Ministry waste. That waste will be used for research into better ways of fighting the Dark Arts!"
"Not only that," Parvati said, "He's banned Dark Arts shops from Diagon Alley and revoked the lease for Fun and Power. Rumor is that Knockturn Alley will be cleared out and called Diagon Lane."
"That's all good, but it doesn't excuse his inquisition!" Harry said before he went up the stairs.
He entered the sixth year boys' dormitory, Ron and Hermione followed.
"TERMITES!" yelled first year Ash, as he ran in, headed straight for Harry, "TERMITES!"
"Where?" Hermione asked.
"Wh…" Ash went silent, left the room.
"He's as comfortable on a broom as you are," Harry said to Hermione, "Unless he's riding with me."
"Fancy that," Hermione said.
Harry rubbed his forehead.
"Good he left, that was a horrible interview," Harry said, "This audit—fishier than fish and chips."
"Efficiency is good," Hermione said.
"Why the focus on us then?" Harry said, "Everybody else was five or ten minutes, me, over an hour. You heard Seamus, but also the Minister making a fuss about our wanting Dumbledore with us."
"We do interact with Dumbledore more," Ron said, "It just happens."
"And Minister Fallerschain thinks of it as unhealthy," Hermione said, "Like… like—"
"I'm not worth it," Harry said.
"Don't say that," Ron said, "Dumbledore does have to spend more on security—"
"Favoring me—" Harry said.
"But none of the other students has a madman after him," Hermione said.
"It felt personal," Harry said, "Like he had it for me, that Dumbledore is spending too much on me for teachers, security, and medical."
"You do cost more," Hermione said, "Madam Pomfrey thinks you need a personal nurse in the infirmary. Demeantors were stationed around Hogwarts after Sirius escaped Azkaban, because of you. Professor Lupin said that Professor Tonks was hired just for you. So, it's probably correct to say that Professor Dumbledore is spending more on you than others."
"Great! We've got Voldemort after us all," Harry said, "And the Minister's concern is that we're breaking the budget?"
"Something like that," Hermione said, "And Parvati did have a point. This Minister Fallerschain has already made a bunch of improvements and he's turned his attention to Hogwarts. Your name undoubtedly shows up on the ledgers, so that naturally gets his attention."
"Any dirt on this Minister?" Harry asked, rubbing his scar, again.
"Skeeter's found nothing so far," Ron said, "So he's clean—why?"
"Harry—" Hermione said, "Spit it out—you felt something—"
"Nothing significant," Harry said, "Just a mild tingle—it was slight—"
"You're scaring us—" Ron said.
"Like you're expecting me to say I sneezed and my scar tingled!' to Dumbledore!" Harry said, "If it sears like a hot poker, then I'll tell him. Until then, it's just my imagination—"
"Has it ever tingled before?" Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head.
"Give him a break—" Ron said, "It's likely all that blood I gave him Tuesday—"
Harry snorted.
"Let's just keep our minds open for now," Harry said, "If it gets worse or continues, we'll go to Dumbledore. In the meanwhile, though he seems a bastard, he is doing right."
"Constant vigilance!" Ron stated.
Harry gave Ron a shove, and grabbed his Quidditch Robes.
"Good idea," Ron said.
"And your universal answer to anything," Hermione said.
"Life's too short not to have Quidditch," Ron said.
Harry changed into Quidditch Robes. Ron did the same. Harry mounted his Firebolt, opened the window, and flew out. A gale wind blew Harry to the side as he headed toward the Quidditch Pitch, the rain drenched his robes.
"You two are mad!" Josh Brenner said, coming along in the heavy rain to the Quidditch Pitch.
"Nobody else wanted to book the field," Ron said.
"It's pouring cats and dogs!" Ginny protested.
"We've played in worse," Harry said, remembering his match during his third year.
They practiced until a greasy voice thundered.
"GET OUT OF THE RAIN!"
Professor Snape was there, glaring at the drenched team.
"Twenty five points each for trying to catch pneumonia," Snape stated.
Harry was certain that Snape had forbade himself from showing his gloat. The rest of the team headed for the castle. Harry, meanwhile, flew.
Water dripped from his bangs like a shower head as Harry flew. He didn't like Snape breaking up a perfectly good practice, and he wasn't ready to return to the castle. Despite the weather, he was hot and sweaty, so he flew over to the edge of the lake, near the forest and landed. He removed his Quidditch Robes, undressed, and put the garments with his Firebolt on the ground. Harry took the few steps into the lake; the choppy water had some bite, but he could tolerate it. Harry swam out, touched the remains of an old swimming platform, returned to the shore; he repeated this several times.
"Good afternoon … Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, holding fast on his cane. Professor Dumbledore's garments were soaked.
Harry stepped out of the water. Professor Dumbledore conjured up a towel, handed it over to Harry.
"Hello Professor," Harry said as he dried himself, as futile as that was in the weather.
"A hundred years ago, … the small shower house … burned to the ground," Professor Dumbledore said, "It turned out … to be a bit … of accidental magic, … from a poor boy … who shared my distaste … for compulsory swimming lessons."
"Gia can swim, better than me," Harry said, "Funny seeing you out here."
"I am Headmaster," Professor Dumbledore said, "I needed a break … from … duties. Funny running … into you here."
"After Quidditch," Harry said, "This seemed like the right idea."
"No need to justify … enjoying your youth … Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, "I was…"
Professor Dumbledore's hand shook, the cane lost its footing on the slick ground, and the elderly wizard began to fall. Harry moved fast, arm around the back, caught him. Professor Dumbledore held onto Harry's shoulder, though the grip was weak.
"Let's get back," Harry said.
"Hagrid's," Professor Dumbledore said.
Professor Dumbledore used his cane with his left hand, but his right hand held Harry's shoulder, while Harry kept his grip on the man. Harry's right hand summoned his robes, his Firebolt, and he carried those as they walked up the soggy hill, between the grass and the forest, coming to the small, familiar hut. Harry knocked, though there was no answer.
"Duties?" Harry asked.
Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, the door opened. They went in; Harry helped Professor down into one of the chairs already away from the table.
"Thank you … Harry," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry put his broom down onto the table, put his Quidditch robes back on, leaned back against the table.
"Gia?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
A wave from Professor Dumbledore's wand, and they began to dry off as the fireplace roared to life, heating up the hut.
"I do love her," Harry said, "I… it'd be easy to perform the Patronus charm, something I struggled with my third year."
"Then, it is good?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Yes," Harry said.
Harry paced.
"I am happy … for you," Professor Dumbledore said.
Professor McGonagall entered Hagrid's hut.
"Sorry to disappoint you Mr. Potter but you are not Madam Pomfrey's most difficult patient," Professor McGonagall said, handing over a flask to Professor Dumbledore, "Albus, you do not have time for this—"
"Enjoying a nice day … is never a waste of … time," Professor Dumbledore said. He made a face of disgust as he sipped the flask. "Make tea."
Harry wondered about the Headmaster thinking this was a nice day.
"Um…" Harry turned and reached for Hagrid's kettle.
"You know you need to drink that without tea," Professor McGonagall said to Professor Dumbledore.
"What is that you're drinking?" Harry asked.
"Antidote," Professor Dumbledore said, "Unfortunately, … it is not a cure."
"Albus!" Professor McGonagall said, "We had agreed it best to not mention this to others."
"I believe that…Harry deserves the … truth," Professor Dumbledore said, "I am dying."
"What?!" Harry stammered, "You can't die!"
"Relax," Professor Dumbledore said, "It will take … some time. You … of all people … know it happens. … Some refuse to accept it … I have. Muggle superstition … we consume children to … steal youth. Maybe … some truth … as a teacher … students infuse me with time."
"How?" Harry asked.
"Last term when You–Know–Who captured the castle," Professor McGonagall said, "He poisoned Albus, and it was a dark poison. There is no known cure."
"Bezoar?" Harry asked.
"That will not work for this," Professor McGonagall said, "If we were to suspend, to freeze Albus, until a cure can be found—"
"No!" Professor Dumbledore said, "Harry does not have … the time."
"Me?" Harry said, "Can't anything be done for Professor Dumbledore? How long has he got?"
"Potions retard the progression, but it is one way," Professor McGonagall said, "A year, two, maybe even three, we do not know because most go mad before they can be helped."
"I didn't realize," Harry said, "I mean, I noticed the cane, just thought he was finally getting old."
"Thank you," Professor Dumbledore said, eyes twinkled.
"As Deputy Headmistress," Professor McGonagall said, "I am now shouldering his duties."
"Oh," Harry uttered.
"Do not discuss this," Professor McGonagall said, "As you understand the urgency, Albus has chosen to spend his remaining time helping you Mr. Potter. Clearly you acknowledge that You–Know–Who will visit you again at some point."
"Seems guaranteed," Harry said.
"And Albus wants you to succeed, even at the cost is his own life," Professor McGonagall said, "So, be ready."
"I need to tell Ron and Hermione this," Harry said.
"They—" Professor McGonagall said.
"Tell them," Professor Dumbledore said, interrupting.
"That is as far as the news is to go, understood?" Professor McGonagall said, "Regardless of what happens at Hogwarts, that sort of news would undermine us."
"Yes," Harry said.
"Now you can use the gap in your schedule for some needed study, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said.
"Yes Professor," Harry said.
Harry grabbed his Firebolt, left the hut.
"I do not understand your reasoning," Professor McGonagall said.
"Protect his friendships," Professor Dumbledore said, "At all costs, … protect them."