"What has happened?" Albus asked, looking between Minerva—pale with anger and lips as thin as Albus had ever seen—and Dolores, who exuded defiance.
"It has come to my attention," Minerva said crisply, "that Professor Umbridge has deliberately harmed a student during a detention this—"
"Hem hem," Dolores said, and Minerva's nostrils flared.
"I think I would like to hear Minerva out, Dolores," Albus said, with as gentle a rebuke in his voice as he could manage. "I shall then, of course, be eager to hear from you."
"Of course, Headmaster,," Dolores said. "I just wanted to say that I feel it might be prudent to involve the Minister in this conversation before it goes any further."
Albus raised an eyebrow:
"While I appreciate your commitment to keeping the Minister appraised of goings on at Hogwarts, Dolores, I'm not sure I agree that the Minister would be an appropriate addition to this conversation," Albus said. "As I understand it, one of my staff has brought to my attention her concerns about another member of the staff's treatment of a student?" He glanced at Minerva, who gave a tight nod. "Then in that case, I feel that I—the Headmaster at Hogwarts—should be able to work with the both of you—my staff—to ensure I understand the situation fully in order to provide a judgement and resolution which is in the best interests of the school and its students. Such is the duty of a Headmaster, after all, certainly more so than it is the duty of our government's highest ranking official. Wouldn't you agree?"
"No," Dolores said sweetly. "As you are perfectly well aware, I am not your staff member, Dumbledore; I report to the Minister for Magic. If there is to be a conversation about my performance here, he ought to be involved." She stood and stepped over to Albus' fireplace, hand hovering above the dish of Floo powder. "May I?"
There wasn't an easy way to disagree and Albus was certain there were bigger battles to come in the conversation ahead, ones that would cost much more to concede; he waved a hand and she took a pinch, and kneeled before the hearth.
"Minister for Magic's office," she said, and leaned her head forward into the flames.
"Which student?" Albus murmured, glancing at Minerva.
"Potter," she muttered back.
"And the injury?"
"Words carved into his arm," she hissed. "His left arm, Albus. If she'd been able to examine her handiwork—"
Albus understood at once, and gave a sharp nod to tell her so. She snapped her mouth shut and shifted in her chair, posture so straight it looked almost painful.
They were silent for a few more seconds, then Dolores leaned back:
"He'll be through shortly," she said with satisfaction.
And she was right; no sooner than she'd retaken her seat in front of Albus' desk did Cornelius step from the green flames.
"Good evening, Dumbledore," he said stiffly. "Professor McGonagall." He conjured himself a chair—level with Albus' desk, rather than beside the other two—and sat. "Now, what's all this about?"
"Minerva," Albus said.
"As I had started to say before your arrival, Minister, it has come to my attention that Professor Umbridge has inflicted deliberate harm on a student in her care during a detention this evening." Her voice shook slightly with what was clearly anger. "She had that student write lines with a quill which cut the very same lines into the skin of his arm. I'm sure you agree, Headmaster, Minister, that that is not an appropriate punishment—"
"This is all news to me," Umbridge said.
"That we do not allow our students to be tortured—" Albus held up a hand to quieten Minerva:
"What is news to you?" he asked.
"That Potter had sustained any sort of injury during my detention with him," she said. "He didn't say anything to me about it, and I didn't see any evidence of anything of the sort on him when he left."
"I saw Potter's arm," Minerva said, voice clipped. "And, as you're well aware, Dolores, sent him to the Hospital Wing to be looked over by Poppy when you and I made our way here. I expect she'll be all too happy to corroborate his story and mine—"
"By all means," Dolores said, with a wide smile. "Let's hear what the matron has to say."
Minerva's expression twitched with what Albus was sure was the same doubt he was feeling; Dolores seemed too confident, like she'd laid a trap and was waiting for them to spring it. But what choice did they have?
"Very well," he said and stood, morbidly curious, to make his own way over to the fire. "Hogwarts Hospital Wing," he said, tossing Floo powder in. He bent to stick his head into the flames.
"Headmaster," Poppy said, looking up from a book at her desk. "What can I do for you?"
"How is Harry?" he asked. She blinked, then raised an eyebrow.
"Potter?" Albus nodded. "Perfectly well, I'd hope, since I've not seen him," she said. Albus did a mental calculation—Harry should have been able to get from Minerva's office to the Hospital Wing in less time than it had taken Minerva and Dolores to reach his office. So had he been waylaid, or had he decided not to go, to deal with things on his own? Regardless, Dolores had been so confident that Albus wasn't surprised not to find Harry here. "Should I have? I know Gryffindor Quidditch trials were on tonight—ridiculous sport—and decent flier or not, if Potter's been foolish enough to decide to try out one-handed—"
"I have no idea if he did or not," Albus said, thrown for a moment. He shook himself: "If he does visit you, Poppy, would you let me know?"
"Of course," she said, and Albus withdrew from the fire, patting soot from his beard.
"Harry has not visited the Hospital Wing tonight," he said. Minerva looked irritated, then worried. Dolores did not look surprised at all. If anything, she seemed smug.
"Well, that settles it, doesn't it," Dolores said pleasantly. Minerva bristled:
"I saw—"
"Oh, I have no doubt, Minerva," Dolores said, in what she likely thought was a reassuring tone. "Potter may well have something on his arm when he went to show you, but I think we must surmise that it was all for show. I very much doubt there's anything at all to see on him now." Albus took that to mean that whatever it was she'd done was clearly designed to fade or vanish; she'd known Harry would not attend the Hospital Wing, or that Poppy would have nothing to report, because by the time he arrived, there would be nothing to see.
"Are you suggesting Mr Potter inflicted this injury upon himself?" Albus asked, holding up a hand to forestall Minerva's undoubtedly angry response.
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," Dolores said, settling more comfortably into her chair, with the air of someone assured victory. "It's no secret to anyone in this room that Mr Potter has been… resistant to my presence here from the outset, and we're only a week in. It seems clear to me that once he realised I intend to hold firm to our Ministry-approved curriculum and not defer to the educational experience of a teenager, he decided to change his approach. I expect this malicious little stunt is an attempt to frame me and have me removed from the school."
Minerva glanced fleetingly at Albus and he knew her well enough to know she was thinking, re-evaluating. Dolores had turned this into a matter of her word against Harry's, and provided an explanation for the night's events that was—on the surface—no less plausible than Harry's own. Minerva's brows drew into a rather fierce frown a moment later—having sided with Harry over the likes of Dolores Umbridge, he was sure—but the fact that Dolores had been able to make her doubt, even for a moment…
"That is a grave accusation indeed, Dolores," Albus said.
"No less grave than his own accusation that she tortured him!" Cornelius said hotly, and too indignantly for him to be involved in whatever Dolores was setting up. Curiouser and curiouser. "Potter's always been quick to throw big accusations around—"
"And usually been proven right," Minerva snapped.
Cornelius didn't bristle the way Albus had expected:
"Exactly," he said, clicking his fingers at her. "Potter knows from past experience that he'll be taken seriously when he speaks up… and now he's attempting to use it to his advantage. Almost got away with it, too. I'd expect a serious punishment for this, Dumbledore—expulsion, even—"
"I will not be expelling Harry," Albus said.
"He's committed slander against a Ministry official," Fudge said hotly.
"So Dolores claims," Albus said. "There is no more evidence that what she says is true than there is evidence that what Harry has said is not."
"There is her word—"
"And there is Harry's," Albus said pleasantly. "I will make a decision purely on words alone if you force my hand, Cornelius, but neither of you will like it."
"You believe the boy, then?" Cornelius asked.
"On word alone, wholeheartedly," Albus said. "Though I'd be open to changing my mind in the face of genuine proof to the contrary, were Dolores able to provide it." Dolores gave him a tight smile, and this time Cornelius did bristle:
"See here, Dumbledore—"
"It's all right, Minister," Dolores said softly. "Dumbledore's always been in Potter's corner, so there's no sense in expecting anything different this time." Albus saw no harm in inclining his head at that, so did. "But," Dolores said, "given that, I think we'd be foolish to not consider the role the Headmaster may have had in this evening's events."
The words hung in the office and Albus could see spots of angry colour blossoming on Minerva's cheeks. He was sure it was only a matter of time until she came to his defence, and though he appreciated her loyalty, it would not serve either of them well just now.
"Minerva, would you check on Mr Potter, please," Albus said, and received a sharp look for his troubles. "Regardless of what version of events is true, you sent him to the Hospital Wing, and if he's not arrived then he is unaccounted for. I don't think anyone here would disagree with me when I say that's rarely a good thing."
Minerva pursed her lips and stood, but Fudge held up a hand.
"We're not finished here, Dumbledore," he said.
"Certainly not," Albus agreed. "But I do not believe Minerva's presence is needed any longer; I believe Dolores is trying to insinuate that I may be the mastermind behind this apparent plan to frame her, but I'm yet to hear any such insinuations against Minerva. It seems to me she has simply done her job as Head of Gryffindor House; she was receptive to her student's concerns, was both respectful and prompt in bringing the matter to my attention, and also ensured Dolores was present so that all the relevant parties could come together for this conversation."
Albus gave both Cornelius and Dolores his best wouldn't you agree sort of look, and both looked a little reproachful, but didn't protest further.
"Thank you, Minerva," Albus said, and she gave a curt nod and swept out, though concern—likely for him—radiated off her. Albus turned back to Dolores. "Now, I believe you were casting aspersions on my character?"
"Merely thinking aloud," she said with a sharp smile, and a would-be-casual shrug of one shoulder.
For a moment Albus imagined a future where he did not refute that; perhaps he confessed to this fictitious wrongdoing and allowed the Ministry to strip him of his Headship. He had known since Dolores' appointment that that day was coming, that he would not see out another year as the Headmaster of Hogwarts… but he'd expected to have more time.
Leaving now, after this, would mean Minerva's character was also in doubt and he needed her here, trusted, so that she could carry on protecting the students and school after he was gone.
Leaving now might mean he was able to shift some of the blame from Harry—Albus could say he'd been nothing more than a pawn in Albus' scheme to rid Hogwarts of the Ministry and let Harry pretend to reel from the betrayal—but Harry could not pretend forever, if he even agreed to pretend at all. Clearly, Dolores had not only decided her efforts were wasted in trying to recruit Harry, but decided they were enemies; Albus could see no other reason for her attack on him—physically with the quill—and now on his reputation with her accusations.
Harry would not take either lightly.
And so Albus' best chance to protect him came from staying at the school for as long as he could.
"It's no secret the boy's in your pocket, Headmaster," Dolores continued. "He's been quite vocal about it all week."
"Certainly he and I are aligned in our desire to see Lord Voldemort overthrown," Albus said, and let that hang there for a few moments. "And while I would not go so far as to say he's in my pocket—Harry is far too independent for that—I would be inclined to say that I have earned his trust and his respect. And there, I believe, lies our solution moving forward."
"How so?" Cornelius asked, frowning.
"I've said that I will not expel Harry, and so, in the interest of not allowing what is clearly an already volatile situation between him and Dolores to escalate, I believe it is best to take over any of his remaining and future punishments myself," Albus said. "Those issued by Dolores, in any case; to my knowledge, he does not pose the same challenge to our other staff. It is clear Harry is unreceptive to her methods and so I think it unlikely that anything constructive will come from any future detentions he has with you, Dolores."
"I disagree," she said, brow furrowed. "And even if they're not constructive, Mr Potter has disrespected me, and I will be the one to see him punished for it."
"And you shall," Albus said. "You shall issue the punishment, and I shall see it carried out."
"But you've already said you're on his side in this nonsense—as per usual—so I can't imagine you'll punish him at all," Cornelius said hotly.
"Perhaps punishment was not the right word," Albus conceded. "What I will do is ensure he understands the seriousness of the situation. Regardless of what the truth is, it's clear there will be no love lost between Harry and Dolores, yet they will have to continue to coexist; she is his teacher, and he is her student. And, of course, if there are future transgressions made by him against her, I will ensure they are dealt with appropriately."
"No," Dolores said again. "Your ability as an educator and Headmaster is in question, Dumbledore—you know that—and so we will not leave you in charge—" Albus felt a flicker of irritation and Fawkes rustled his feathers.
"I am aware certain individuals at the Ministry doubt my competence," Albus said, letting hardness creep into his voice now. "However, there is no evidence to support any such doubts, and until there is, it is I and not the Ministry who is in charge at Hogwarts. You would both do well to remember that."
He would pay for that, he was certain; Dolores would make sure of it.
"I note you've not addressed your own involvement in this scheme of Potter's," Cornelius said.
"And I note you've not provided any evidence to support any such involvement I may have had," Albus replied. "As such, it remains pure speculation. We came together to discuss Dolores' actions toward Harry, and we have done that. I'm sure we would all have appreciated being able to reach a more definitive resolution to this evening's events, but alas, none of us have enough information to do so."
"We've given you information—"
"You've given me an accusation," Albus said. "With little to back it up. Unfortunately-or fortunately for Dolores—it would appear Harry is equally unable to substantiate his own version of events, and so we must call a stalemate." He waited a moment to let that sink in, then asked, "Does Harry have any outstanding detentions with you, Dolores?"
"One," she said, with all the sweet poison of belladonna. "Tomorrow night."
"And the original offence?"
"Disrespecting me in my classroom, disrupting the other students, and disrespecting the curriculum," she said.
"Thank you," he said. "I shall ensure I address those things, as well as the outcome of our conversation tonight when I meet him in your stead tomorrow. Good night, Minister, Dolores."
"That utter bi—"
"Can't believe we're giving you away to a teacher, Harry, but she showed up at Gryffindor and was pretty insistent," Fred said, interrupting Padfoot; McGonagall brushed past Fred, and Harry thought it said something about the sort of mood she was in that she didn't even ask about the Room, nor comment on Padfoot's presence in the mirror.
"Made it sound like it was a matter of life or death," George agreed, from behind McGonagall.
"Isn't it always?" Draco drawled, with an attempt at his usual droll humour, but it fell a little flat; he'd been oddly subdued all night, and Harry suspected it was because of his father's visit, but hadn't yet had the chance to ask. Ron had clearly noticed too, and frowned worriedly at Draco. "It's Potter, after all."
"This is no time for jokes," McGonagall snapped. "I hope you have a very good reason for not having attended the Hospital Wing like I told you, Potter—"
"Yeah," Harry said, frowning, and held up his arm. "It's gone. I got halfway there and then it started to really itch, and then I checked and saw it had vanished completely."
McGonagall strode over and Hermione—sitting beside Harry—pulled her legs up onto the couch to better let her pass. McGonagall took his arm, examining it so intently that Harry wondered if she thought the words might come back if she glared long enough. A moment later, she released him, lips pursed.
"Er… sorry," Fred said, "but what vanished completely?"
"Evidence of Professor Umbridge's wrongdoing," McGonagall said, nostrils flaring. She looked back at Harry. "And in its absence, she is suggesting whatever you showed me was self-inflicted and a ploy by you and the Headmaster to have her removed from Hogwarts, and the Minister—"
"Fudge was there?" Padfoot asked.
"And did not seem inclined to disagree with her," McGonagall replied.
For a few moments they were all silent; Harry exchanged a disbelieving look with Padfoot, Ginny and Hermione looked furious, Draco looked ill, and Ron and the twins frowned.
Then Padfoot uttered a single curse so vehemently that Hermione gave the mirror a scandalised look, and even the four Weasleys raised their eyebrows.
"Quite," McGonagall said stiffly, and Harry gaped at her. "Though I'll thank you to watch your tongue around my students in the future, Black."
"What does that mean for Harry, then?" Padfoot asked. "And for Dumbledore? It's not true, obviously, but if we can't prove it's not—"
"The Headmaster will do what he can," McGonagall said, and the graveness in her tone put everyone on edge; Harry could smell it.
"But how much is that?" Harry asked into the quiet that followed. "Dumbledore can't throw his weight around too much or Fudge'll have him removed, especially if they think he's involved—"
"The Headmaster will do what he can," she repeated. "For the time being, Hogwarts remains under his authority and he will not allow the Ministry to expel you—"
"Expel?!" Hermione breathed, looking aghast.
"—or remove him, especially not under false pretences and with no solid evidence. But let this be proof, Potter—and a warning to the rest of you, before you do anything foolish—" McGonagall looked around at them, expression as serious as Harry had ever seen it. "—that setting yourself against Dolores Umbridge publicly or privately is not something to be done lightly."
It wasn't quite a reprimand, but it was close enough to it to make Harry bristle:
"I didn't have a choice," he said. "Not tonight—"
"I appreciate that, Potter," McGonagall said. "What I am saying is that when you do have a choice, let it be to bite your tongue rather than antagonise her, or, better yet, to avoid her entirely."