The Minister's Tale

CHAPTER FIVE - A SECRET KEPT

Caradoc refilled his glass of water by hand. He drank half of it in one gulp and coughed to clear his throat. Tierney spoke up.

"What voice will I hear now?"

Caradoc smiled. The light Irish accented voice came out when he opened his mouth.

"This is my real voice. To be honest with you, I haven't used it for so long I forgot what it sounds like. What do you think of it?"

Tierney smiled. "I like it much better that that old British one. But dad, how were you found out? And how did you end up here?" Tierney waved his arm at Caradoc's office. His father smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm nearly done, Tierney. Allow me to finish." Caradoc leaned slightly forward and began to talk once more.

"Even though I had a new name and a new appearance, I could not hide my natural ability to cast memory charms. I guess I am blessed with the gift to change people's memories. I was asked to assist in the questioning of suspected Death Eaters. I was able to get a confession out of one of them. My superiors were pleasantly surprised. I was equally surprised and relieved to find out that my disguise worked because neither Ministry employees nor Death Eater recognized me. I suspect they could not tell I was using non-magical means to alter my eye color or hair style."

"So the Obliviators asked me to join them here on the third floor. I began a slow and steady rise up the Ministry bureaucracy. You were getting along with your new friends and your wizarding skills were improving with each year. Then the day came when Cornelius Fudge became Minister of Magic. Cornelius and I were associates and he told me that he had plans for me."

"A few months after his appointment I was named the Head Obliviator. Minister Fudge, as everyone called him now, decided that it would be a good time to invite Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, down to London to meet his senior Ministry staff. A lunchtime reception was scheduled for a day in June. I don't think you remember, but all that week I was as jumpy as a stray cat in a dog kennel." Tierney chuckled at his father's attempt at humor. Caradoc continued.

"The meeting took place and Dumbledore and I spoke for a few minutes. He asked me if I had any children and I told him about you and how you were doing in primary school. Actually, I bragged how you were at the top of your class. He nodded and said he would look forward to meeting you at Hogwarts. I thought I had fooled him. A week later an owl came for me. It was from Dumbledore. I was clearly wrong. Would you care to read what he wrote to me?"

Tierney's face could not hide his surprise. "Dumbledore?"

Caradoc smiled and leaned down to another drawer. The heavy desk muffled his voice. "Yes son, your headmaster. It was vanity to think I could fool him but I though I did." Caradoc tapped on the desk and this time the room vibrated with a CLICK, CLACK sound that Tierney thought was out of place with the desk. Finally the sound ended and Caradoc reached down a little further. He came up with a weathered piece of parchment; he reached over and dropped it in front of Tierney. The young man picked it up and rolled it out. Dumbledore's handwriting was neat and precise. He began to read.

Dear Caradoc:

I see with my own eyes that the notice of your untimely demise at the hands of the Death Eaters was a mistake. An excellent disguise. It was not until you spoke of your son that your pride and love for him gave you away.

After our lunch at the Ministry, I went back to Hogwarts and looked up the name of Tierney Broadren in our book of prospective students. No name was found. How, I wondered, would I not have known of this outstanding, gifted student? As I turned the pages thinking of sour lemon drops, my eyes fell on the name of Tierney Dearborn and I noted his name was not crossed out. That meant your son was still alive. I looked at the names again. A simple anagram, but effective.

Your secret, dear member of the Order, is safe with me. I will tell no one. But I ask you to come to Hogwarts and we will talk. Bring Tierney so he can see the grounds. We have much to discuss. And you, I am sure, have much to tell.

Albus.

Tierney rolled up the parchment and handed it back to his father. "Father, the penmanship looks familiar."

"Of course it does. Every piece of owl post you receive from Hogwarts is written by your headmaster and not by Professor McGonagall, who is responsible for the student mailings. I daresay I don't know what Albus told her, but she has never written to you."

Tierney nodded his head in agreement of his father's assessment. "So that weekend when we visited Hogwarts--"

Caradoc smiled. "Yes, when Hagrid was touring the grounds with you, Dumbledore and I were catching up on old times. I told him about our adventures outside Boston. He told me about the end of the first war and the death of James and Lily Potter, and what happened to their boy. He told me how Harry was brought up by hateful Muggles and how he came to Hogwarts."

Tierney spoke up. "And Dumbledore; was he mad at you for leaving everyone? Was he upset?"

Caradoc looked over his son and stared at the wall behind him. He returned his gaze to his son. "I thought he would be angry but he was not. All he ever asked was if I was happy with the choices I had made, both to leave and to return."

"And what did you tell him?"

Caradoc smiled. "My happiness is secondary. What was important to me, then and now, was insuring you could grow up and know some happiness of your own. Now that you are older, and hopefully wiser, I hope you understand that everything I have done, EVRYTHING, was to protect you, to keep you whole until you could decide what to do with your life. And Dumbledore told me he believes you decided when I was last at Hogwarts."

Tierney glared at his father with a hurtful look. "When were you at Hogwarts?"

Caradoc raised his hand up. Tierney paused. "Allow me to show you."

Caradoc stood up, turned his back to his son and suddenly bent forward. Holding on to the corner of his desk for support, he moved one arm out and popped his shoulder up, giving him a frail, hunched over appearance. He slowly folded into himself and became measurably shorter. Caradoc turned back to face his son and smiled.

"You know son, you shouldn't show off flying in front of your headmaster. And you should never be impertinent with your flying professor. I thought I taught you better--"

Tierney's face was full of wonder and surprise. "YOU? YOU were with Dumbledore that day near Gryffindor Tower?"

Caradoc smiled even more broadly. He stamped his right foot and quickly regained his full height. Caradoc Dearborn stepped closer to his son.

"Concealment and Disguise was my favorite Auror class. Care to learn more?"

Tierney blinked his eyes once. Watching his father shrink then grow back within a matter of seconds was as surprising as everything else he had experienced that night. He was staring at his father so intently that he hardly heard his father speak. Caradoc spoke again.

"Tierney, care to learn how to do what I just did?"

Slowly, Tierney became aware of what his father had said. He began to smile as his father's question sunk in. He spoke excitedly.

"You mean become an Auror? But how?"

Caradoc reached into his robes and took out his ebony wand. He walked over to the small bookcase where the family photos stood. He bent down and his wand clicked the locked doors with a sharp TAP! The doors swung open and Tierney could make out what appeared to be a number of books lying on the shelves. Caradoc bent down even more and began to read off the titles to Tierney.

"Advanced Potions, Dueling Tactics, Dark Arts Confessional...ah here it is. Concealment and Disguise: The Basics. He reached back and straightened up. Once the hand was clear of the shelf, the drawers closed back up and a loud CLANK emitted from the small bookshelf. Tierney softly approached his father.

"What are all those books?"

Caradoc stood up and turned toward his son with his wand at the ready. He stared at his son for a second and his face softened.

"Excellent sneaking skills, Tierney. But you shouldn't scare me showing off how quiet you are." Caradoc replaced his wand in a vent pocket of his jacket. He walked over to his desk. Tierney walked alongside him. As he walked, each step came down with a loud BANG! Caradoc audibly laughed. Tierney, though, was not smiling back at his father.

"I didn't forget your question, son. That drawer holds all my Auror books and tools. If you move some of the books you'll find my FoeGlass and SneakerScope. I have kept them hidden for many years. I am glad I kept them because we'll use them to prepare you. Now why don't you--"

"Why, father?"

Caradoc glanced at his son. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

Tierney's voice was soft but the words were heavy and seemed to echo off the walls of the Minister's office. "Why have you told me this father? What made you decide to tell me about how mother died? About the funeral, the service and the reason we left? Why tell me about our time in America of all places? And why we came back?"

Tierney's voice became stronger in tone and volume. His eyes stared at Caradoc with a singular intensity. "And why, for all this time, did you hide? While Voldemort gained strength and the Death Eaters continue to freely run about? Why have you stood by and done little--NO!! Less than little, nothing! Why, father?"

Caradoc gestured to Tierney. He pointed to a chair in front of his desk. Tierney stood and continued to stare at his father.

"So you think I am a coward my son?" Caradoc bowed his head and sighed deeply. He spoke and his voice was low. Tierney leaned forward to hear him.

"Tierney, I have been working for the Order since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But I have waited too long to take up the physical battle. Because of that, a friend of mine has died. I should have been alongside him."

Tierney stayed immobile. Caradoc lifted up his head and looked at his suddenly defiant son.

"Sit down. You are right to ask me why and I hope you will understand."

Tierney had never heard his father speak with such a regretful tone. He nodded and walked past his father. He pulled his chair back and sat down. The leather chair crackled as the young man became comfortable. Caradoc remained standing. Hoping Tierney was listening, he began to talk again.