Ten Days and Ten Nights

Chapter 2:

Personal Issues and Cross breeds

Harry Apparated straight into the reception hall of Ministry Headquarters in London, just as he did every morning, and headed through the doors to the Cloister.

‘Harry!’ said Hermione, as he walked along the corridor towards the door labeled

Harry Potter

Chief Aide and Press Secretary to the Minister

‘Good morning!’ he said pleasantly, and opened the polished mahogany door into his large, spacious office.

‘Harry, have you seen International Federation of Warlocks Report on Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans?’

‘No, why?’ he asked, taking off his cloak and levitating it across the room to its hook.

‘Because apparently they published a report saying that our legislation was, and I quote, “ineffectual and soft”.’

‘When?’ asked Harry.

‘Well I just found out about it this morning from Stacey,’ (Stacey was Hermione’s secretary), ‘but apparently they were giving it out at the Vampirical Combating Convention in Sardinia last week, and our office in the Confederation HQ in Geneva insist that it’s been public for at least three days!’

‘So the press have it then?’ Harry was very serious and businesslike.

‘I assume so,’ said Hermione, throwing her arms in the air. ‘They always know everything before we do!’

‘Why do they say we’re ineffectual and soft?’

‘Well, basically because we don’t hold weekly executions of vampires and werewolves!’ Hermione snapped melodramatically. ‘They claim that we give them “two many second chances”, and that we “are in league with the Ethical Treatment of Cross-Species lobby.’

Harry sat, thinking for a moment.

‘What should I do?’ asked Hermione. ‘I’ve got a meeting with Franklin Hungary, the warlock who chaired the committee that submitted the report in two hours, but I’m not sure if I should ignore him and let this grow or go and legitimise his argument.’ She threw her arms up in the air.

‘Well, you’re the Liaison Officer,’ said Harry. ‘It’s your call.’

‘Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when everything goes wrong!’ said Hermione, and walked out the room.

‘Is Dr Granger finished with you?’ asked Linda, popping her head around the other doorway, which led to the tiny office where she worked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Good, because Professor Dumbledore should be here soon.’

‘Thanks, Linda, can you get me a copy of the Werewolf Code of Conduct, and the International Federation of Warlocks Report on Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans.’

Linda scribbled it down on her blue and grey notepad, before smiling and shutting the door.

Harry turned his attention towards the pile of scrolls, which were on his desk, and needed his attention.

***

‘Harry?’ Linda’s head popped around the doorway ten minutes later. ‘Harry, Dumbledore’s in the reception hall.’

‘Thanks, Linda.’

‘One thing, I can’t find a copy of the International Federation of Warlocks Report on Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans anywhere in the building, not even in the Lexicon.’

‘Really?’ Harry was surprised- Miriam Hardbroom, as chief of the Lexicon, the Ministry facility that held thousands of archived pamphlets and laws and declarations, prided herself on having every single item of importance to hand from the past two thousand years, even if it was released seconds ago.

Harry entered the reception hall, and saw Professor Dumbledore standing, admiring one of the particularly tall plants.

‘Hello, professor,’ said Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder.

‘Ah, Harry, hello,’ said the old man. ‘I was just admiring this particularly large Grefanturine. I have always wondered how the Ministry gets it’s plants to grow so tall.’

‘I believe they feed them on erumpent droppings, professor.’

‘Ah, I see. And Harry, you really don’t have to call me professor; you’re not a pupil any more.’

‘What shall I call you?’ mused Harry, as they passed through the door to the Cloister corridor.

‘You may call me anything you like! Some people call me Albus, some call me Grandpa, and the other day, a particularly boisterous pupil, annoyed at having being punished after he had cursed the marmalade, called me a ‘doddery old fool’!’

‘Surely not!’ reviewed Harry.

‘I know, who could even think such a thing!’ Dumbledore smiled, as he followed Harry into his office.

‘What a marvelous office, Harry,’ said the old man; his bright blue eyes sparkling like diamonds as he surveyed the room.

‘Please, have a seat,’ said Harry, as he positioned himself in his chair. ‘You know why I have to talk to you.’ Harry opened his drawer and took out a copy of yesterday’s Daily Prophet, complete with Dumbledore’s picture and headline across the front page.

‘I had a feeling it was about this.’ The aged man, who yet displayed every characteristic of youth, looked glumly at Harry.

‘Dumbledore, I know what this is about and I understand what you’re trying to say,’ said Harry. ‘It’s just that we had an important announcement we were saving for today, and you almost stole the show. I have to ask you not to speak to the press directly on issues that are less than wildly enthusiastic about the Ministry. Next time, please, just send me an owl and I personally guarantee you a coherent and practical response from the Minister within the week.’

‘Harry, a lot of people have said to me that Matilda seems to have lost her drive for dark bloodshed.’

‘It’s not about bloodshed, Dumbledore!’ said Harry. ‘A famous and wise man once said, “There are causes for which I am prepared to die, but there does not exist one for which I am prepared to kill.”’ Harry looked at Dumbledore across the desk.

‘Mahatma Ghandi,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I am not saying kill the Death Eaters, just catch them and hinder their attempts to destabilize everything you and I have worked for over the past ten years!’ His voice rose as he said this

‘I was speaking metaphorically!’ said Harry back loudly. ‘And we are as determined as we ever were to keep Death Eaters at bay, and keep the use of Dark Magic in Britain at an absolute minimum!’

‘You don’t seem to be very enthusiastic in your approach!’ Dumbledore retorted.

‘Just because we do it without your knowledge and blessing doesn’t mean we don’t do it!’ said Harry forcefully.

Next, Dumbledore said something which threw Harry totally off guard.

‘You’ve come a long way from the shy eleven year old who showed up at my school knowing nothing about the world.’ His voice was by contrast much quieter and softer in tone.

Harry looked back, not having a clue how to reply. It was a constant source of amazement to him that Dumbledore would do the thing least expected, yet the most appropriate.

‘I understand entirely that you are working very hard down here to ensure the eradication of dark forces. I just feel that occasionally you should make it a bit more public when you put someone in Azkaban.’

‘I had someone sent down yesterday for smuggling dragon eggs,’ said Harry defensively. ‘Just because I didn’t shout about it…’

‘I know, Harry, I know,’ said Dumbledore. ‘But Justice must be done and it must be seen to be done.’

‘Okay.’ Harry rose from his seat. ‘Just as long as we’re clear on that…’

‘Absolutely, professor,’ said Dumbledore, his moustache quivering. ‘It won’t happen again.’

Harry laughed. ‘Do you want to see Matilda about anything before you go?’ he asked.

‘No, I think I’ll save myself that pleasure for another day,’ said Dumbledore diplomatically.

‘You must come up to the castle sometime Harry,’ said Dumbledore. ‘You’ve not been up to see us in aeons.’

‘I’ll do that one day soon,’ said Harry. ‘I’d like to see Hogwarts again.’

‘Goodbye, Harry,’ said Dumbledore, as they crossed the corridor and through the door into the reception hall.

‘Bye, Professor,’ said Harry, as Dumbledore disappeared with a faint pop.

***

‘Hermione!’ called Harry, as he walked into Hermione’s office, finding the bushy haired Liaison Officer sitting at her desk, surrounded by piles of work.

‘Harry, I’ve just spoken to Ron, and he says that this whole soft on vampires issue is about to blow. I think we’ve discovered our main news story.’

‘How many journalists know?’ asked Harry.

‘Well, Ron got it off Claudia Hoggart, and she got it off James Crenel, who got it off “his source within the Federation”. I think we need to tell Matilda about this.’

‘Okay, be ready to speak to her in five minutes. By the way, have you spoken to Richard about the Executive Staff meeting tomorrow?’

‘No, why?’

‘They’re rearranging it. Matilda’s going to have a meeting with all the department heads tomorrow morning instead.’

‘When is the Exec meeting then?’ Hermione asked from behind her desk.

‘The next morning in the Clagg chamber.’ Harry looked around Hermione’s room. It had sunflower yellow walls, covered with notices and reminders and Muggle post-its. The desk in the centre was covered in and surrounded by what Hermione referred to as her ‘filing system’, which was basically every bit of parchment Hermione had seen in the past month littered everywhere.

‘Okay, I’ll be in my office,’ said Harry, and set off back down the corridor to his room.

***

‘Who gave the International Federation of Warlocks the power to scrutinize our legislation?’ asked Matilda. Hermione was in the process of explaining the report to the Minister, but was being constantly interrupted by questions.

‘They really see it as their duty, rather than a right,’ said Hermione. ‘Anyway, the Federation report says basically that Britain should fall in line with other European countries such as France and Austria and introduce tougher and more restrictive restrictions on werewolves and vampires, and other cross breeds.’

‘Like what?’ asked Matilda.

‘Well, in France werewolves have to be locked in by a Ministry official every night at nine o’clock, and in Austria werewolves are kept in detention centres during the full moon. In Britain all we do is have a Ministerial employee check that they’re behaving.’

‘And what about vampires?’

‘Well, they’re not really as much of a threat in France, but in Austria they keep them in confinement all through the year. They never get let out.’

‘What’s confinement?’ asked Harry.

‘Basically it’s a metal cage, which the vampire is forced into.’ Hermione recited a list of statistics relating to vampire confinements in the continent altogether.

‘What can we do?’ asked Matilda.

‘Well, in the long term we could introduce a bylaw increasing the monitoring of non-wizards part-humans in urban areas, and try to satisfy them with that.’

‘And in the short term?’ asked the small woman with brown hair. Matilda Greymalkin, like most of her ministerial team, was very focused and efficient.

‘We’ll just have to ride it out,’ said Harry grimly.

There was a knock at the door, and Stacey entered.

‘Dr. Granger,’ she said. ‘You have to be in Geneva in ten minutes.’

‘You’re going to Geneva?’ asked Matilda.

‘Yes, I’m going to chat with Franklin Hungary, the chair of the Federation committee.’

‘Well tell him that the British Ministry of Magic is very angry and is considering having her senators on the Federation boycott it completely,’ said Matilda angrily.

‘In fact,’ said Harry, ‘tell him we’re interested in his claims but dubious as to the research and adulteration of the facts. We’re reviewing the matter very seriously, but it will be a lengthy process reforming the law.’

‘Actually, that’s a better answer,’ said Matilda.

‘Of course it is,’ said Harry. ‘That’s why I’m here- to stop you having a fight with everyone you meet.’

‘Well I pay you enough, don’t I?’

‘I better be going,’ said Hermione. ‘Harry, I want to talk to you when I get back.’

‘What about?’ he asked, interested.

‘Wait and see!’ replied Hermione coyly, before heading out the door.

Harry turned back to Matilda.

‘I spoke to Dumbledore, and I sorted it.’

‘Good,’ said Matilda. ‘Now, I have a job for you.’

‘Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to be good?’ asked Harry.

‘Because you know me too well. I need you to go to Percy Weasley and tell him that the International Confederation are demanding that we send an envoy to Rome to join the International Task Force Against Charmed Trinkets tomorrow.’

‘Why can’t you just owl him?’ asked Harry.

‘Because he’s going to refuse point blank and create a fuss, and you’re the only one who can calm him down enough to get him to go.’

‘You want Percy to go?’ asked Harry incredulously.

‘Yes, I want Percy to go, and tell him I’ll give him a week’s extra holiday if he does!’

‘Percy Weasley doesn’t want holidays,’ said Harry. ‘Percy Weasley wants a case of 1825 Sauvignon.’

‘Then give him a cellar full of the bloody stuff, just get him to Rome!’

***

‘Percy, how are you?’ asked Harry smilingly as he opened the door to Percy’s office.

‘Harry! Nice to see you again! What can I do for you?’ Percy stood up from his extraordinarily tidy desk to greet Harry.

‘I was just given this by a visiting diplomat,’ Harry lied, ‘and I thought you might enjoy it more than I would.’ He extended his arm to Percy, and clutched in his hand was a bottle of expensive wine.

‘Harry!’ said Percy. ‘This is a very expensive bottle of wine! How nice of you!’

‘Not at all.’

‘No really, I have to make it up to you. What can I do?’

‘Well, Percy, there’s an International Task Force Against Charmed Trinkets meeting in Rome tomorrow…

***

Harry was sitting, working diligently on a report that had to be handed to the Minister within the hour, when the door opened, and Hermione walked in.

‘Hi,’ she said, shutting the door behind her.

‘How was Geneva?’ Harry asked.

‘Oh, fine,’ said Hermione. ‘The Federation doesn’t care about vampires; they were only looking for a bit of attention. It’ll have blown over by tomorrow.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Harry.

‘Want to get something to eat?’ asked Hermione. ‘I have something I want to discuss with you.’

‘Um, sure,’ said Harry, looking at the clock on the wall. It read four fifteen- about Hermione’s usual time for lunch.

***

‘Harry, do you ever get the feeling that you’re totally overwhelmed with work to do, and so many things are still left to be done?’

Harry and Hermione were sitting in a quiet little Muggle coffee shop about two blocks from the Ministry offices. Harry had a large latte in front of him, and a Mayfair in one hand, while Hermione was tucking into a chocolate brownie.

‘It goes with the job, Hermione.’

She leaned over to him, and whispered something in his ear. Harry’s expression changed from neutral to complete shock.

‘You’re mouth is hanging open,’ said Hermione.

‘Hermione, are you serious?’ asked Harry. ‘Are you sure this is what you want to do?’

She leaned over to him again, and whispered something else in his ear. If Harry’s face could have looked any more stunned than it had, it did.

‘I don’t believe it!’ said Harry. ‘Are you one hundred percent certain?’

‘Of course I’m certain,’ said Hermione dismissively. ‘I made up my mind ages ago.’

‘Hermione, this is so big!’ Harry was absolutely flabbergasted at what Hermione had just told him.

‘I wasn’t sure if I should tell Ron or what,’ said Hermione. ‘I know he’s my best friend, but he’s a journalist.’

‘When are you planning to tell Matilda?’ asked Harry, taking a deep draw of his cigarette. He had started smoking on the campaign trail to get Matilda elected.

‘I thought about this evening, but that would mean I’d have to wait until the morning to have it announced. So I think I’ll tell her early tomorrow morning, and tell Ron straight after that.’

‘Who else knows?’ asked Harry.

‘Well, Ginny knows, my parents know, I assume Mr and Mrs Weasley know, Chris knows, and you.’

Chris was Hermione’s boyfriend of eighteen months. Although they were unmarried, they shared a flat in Hogsmeade, where Hermione Apparated every night.

‘I’m the only one in the Ministry?’ asked Harry.

‘Yep- don’t you feel honoured?’ asked Hermione, as Harry took a last draw and stubbed the cigarette out.

‘Well, we better be heading back. This buggers up our plans for today and tomorrow.’

‘Sorry,’ said Hermione apologetically.

‘Don’t be,’ said Harry. ‘I’m really happy for you- if it’s what you want to do, then do it.’

‘Thanks, Harry,’ said Hermione, and they left the coffee shop.

***

Matilda Greymalkin was reviewing her speech she was due to give to the British Animagi Convention in Glasgow in two weeks, when Harry Potter walked into her office. Harry, her aide, was pivotal to the running of her administration- she had hired him the minute she had been elected. Her main reason for this, apart from his immense connections throughout the wizarding world, him innumerable talents, and his drive to do the right thing, he was purposeful and efficient. So when he came barging into her office on the late July afternoon, she wasn’t surprised to see the determined look on his face.

‘Hi, Harry,’ she said, desperate for any kind of distraction away from the suicide-inducing speech.

‘Matilda, we have a problem,’ said Harry.

‘You don’t say?’ she said dryly.

‘It’s about Hermione,’ he said.

***

‘Linda, get me George Dimple in here at seven thirty tomorrow morning!’ shouted Harry to his secretary, who was colourfully bedecked in robes of bright purple with a yellow sash wrapped around through her exquisitely manicured hair.

‘George Dimple?’ she asked. ‘I thought you hated him.’

‘I do,’ said Harry, ‘but get him in my office tomorrow.’

‘You’re the boss,’ she sighed, and laid down her nail file.

Inside his office, Harry scribbled on a piece of notepaper,

The Cloister will make a major announcement tomorrow morning at ten o’clock in the pressroom. Attendance of most members of the national press requested.

Harry Potter

‘There,’ he said to himself aloud, as he tied the note to his owl, Killen, and sent her out the window in the direction of the press office. ‘That should get a good crowd.’

And he sat down at his desk to begin drafting the announcement which would shock the nation the next morning.