23 February 1996

Minerva frowned as she walked past the Gryffindor hourglass. A fresh amount of rubies glittered in the glass, though Minerva was sure that it had not been that full a few hours ago. With a puzzled expression, she entered the staffroom to see Filius and Pomona talking animatedly by the fireplace. Surprisingly, or not, given that Filius and Pomona appeared to be talking so freely, Umbridge was nowhere in sight.

As soon as Minerva stepped inside, Pomona turned. "Oh, Minerva have you see this?" she said, standing up and handing Minerva a copy of the Quibbler.

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:

THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

Minerva frowned as she took the newspaper Pomona was offering her. "Rita Skeeter?" she murmured, her frown deepening as she scanned the interview.

Pomona nodded. "I don't know what came over her to write something like this in the Quibbler no less," she admitted, "but as of now I would like to take back every bad thing I have said about this woman."

As Minerva reached the end of the article, she was inclined to agree with her friend. It made sense now why she had spotted several huddles of students whispering excitedly together when on her way to breakfast. She also understood now, why Dolores had also appeared livid when Minerva had crossed her in the corridors a few minutes ago. Slowly, a small smile crept up Minerva's lips.

"About time the proper story is published," Filius said, nodding at the newspaper, and getting up from his seat. He then picked up a mound of parchment that almost obscured his face. "I'm looking for the Headmaster?" he added, popping his head around the stack of parchment to look questioningly at Minerva.

"He will be back this afternoon," she replied.

Filius nodded his thanks then bustled out of the staffroom.

"Do you know where he goes each weekend?" Pomona asked mildly, taking the Quibbler again and then settling in an armchair by the fire. "The Headmaster, I mean?"

Minerva shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine, dear," she said tiredly, just as the staffroom door opened again.

Pomona instantly jumped and tried to hide the Quibbler however, stopped when she realised that it was only Severus.

"I heard Dolores is going to try and ban those," he said, nodding at the magazine.

Pomona sighed and stuffed the paper in her bag. "It's a bit late to do that now," she muttered, pulling out the Daily Prophet from her handbag. "I wonder what is in here, today..."

"Nothing good," Minerva informed her, remembering the less than complimentary article about Albus in the Prophet this morning. She sighed and continued to flick through the letters in her pigeon-hole — all of them from various members of her family. It wasn't long however before she sensed that someone was standing behind her. She turned. "Yes?"

Severus cleared his throat. "Do you know where the Headmaster is?"

Minerva pursed her lips and closed the door to her locker with a snap. It irritated her somewhat that people automatically assumed that she knew everything that was going on in Albus' head. At the moment, in fact, she would have thought Severus to be more informed on the matter than herself.

Indeed, increasingly she had noticed that Albus and Severus had been speaking with each other on a regular basis. She knew as well that they were not discussing school-related matters. Thus, it had occurred to her every now and again whether perhaps Severus knew of Albus' frequent travels — clearly, however, he was just as much in the dark as she was.

"He is away, Severus, and will be back this afternoon," she said shortly, picking up her bag and making her way to the door.

Severus stopped her. "Did he tell you where he went?" he asked.

"No, he did not," Minerva said, opening the staffroom door but pausing in the doorway. "Is it something I can help you with instead?" she asked, a little more helpfully.

Severus shook his head, scowling. "I'm afraid not, Minerva."

Minerva shrugged, then left the staffroom only to come face-to-face with Dolores Umbridge. It took all of her strength not to close her eyes and take a steadying breath. "Good morning, Dolores," was what she said instead.

"I would like this hung up on the wall," Umbridge said without preamble. She held up a framed certificate marked Educational Decree Number 27.

Minerva suppressed a tut. "Another decree?" she said. "What is this one about, this time?"

"The Minister has agreed for the Quibbler to be banned—"

"Banned? Good Lord," Minerva interrupted, with a hint of sarcasm. "Is it just us that are banned from reading a newspaper, or the whole country?"

Umbridge pressed her lips together. "See that this new rule is understood by students and staff alike," she said, before turning on her heel and walking away. As if she did not have better things to do that morning, Minerva thought to herself before leaving to get to her next class.