Resurgence of Evil

CHAPTER 3

I landed on my feet in the middle of the Ministry of Magic and looked around without surprise. The short man was looking at me. "Mr. Longbottom, you have neglected to introduce your friend," I said pointedly, not looking at Neville.

"I’m Christian Blair," the man replied. I glanced at him in surprise — the Minister of Magic, brother of the Muggle Prime Minister. The connection had allowed the combination of Muggle and magical forced during the war, and the brothers maintained that tie.

I probably should have recognized him, I thought, narrowing my eyes, and suddenly sensed the glamour hanging about him.

Neville and the Minister exchanged looks, and Neville said something under his breath. The man in front of me shimmered slightly, and became taller, thinner. His hair was sandy-brown rather than dark chocolate colored, and his eyes changed from unremarkable brown to an unusual shade of aqua-blue. He resembled his brother in height and facial features, but other than that the two men were very different, in both expression and carriage.

"Well, he certainly hasn’t changed," came a dry, familiar voice behind me. I turned slowly.

"What did you expect?" I drawled, fully facing Harry Potter. "It’s only been a few months. I had a feeling you were involved in this somehow."

He grinned and leant back in his chair. "What gave you that idea?"

"It could be intuition," I said. "Or it could be your signature on these papers." I tossed said parchment onto the messy surface separating us. Harry's eyes flicked to the paper and he frowned, then glanced at Neville. An unspoken communication passed between them, and I had the feeling that there was something going on. Something that resembled a switch from Plan A to Plan B.

The desk in front of him was buried in papers and files, and the wall behind him was covered in posters, notes and charts. The window, magicked to reflect the weather outside, had gentle sun streaming through the glass onto several small plants in various stages of dying.

"Minister," said Harry, standing as he turned his attention away from me. He extended his hand over his desk, and Blair shook it. "Harry. How’s Ginny?"

Harry laughed. "You’d be better off asking how Ron is. Ginny’s perfectly fine. Her brothers, however — she’s snapped at Percy a dozen times, and the rest are no better, worrying over her all hours of the day." His broad smile belied the annoyance in his tone.

"Have you chosen the godparents yet?" asked the Minister, smiling.

"Actually, yes," said Harry. "I should probably wait, because I know Ginny wanted to ask, but — Neville, would you be our baby’s godfather?"

Vaguely wondering why I was even here at all, I watched Neville’s jaw drop in shock. "Of course," he replied, stunned.

Harry laughed, and said, "Thanks. Just — when Ginny asks, don’t let on that I said anything? She wanted to surprise you."

"She succeeded," Neville managed, but his face was pink with pride. The three talked for several more minutes, and then there was a knock on the door. Ron entered, and frowned when he saw me. I ignored him, more out of habit than anything else. Harry looked up, smiled and said, "All right. Now we’re just waiting for-"

He was cut off by the opening door, and Sirius walked in, followed by Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall.

After several minutes in which they greeted one another, and in which I found myself a chair in the corner, the conversation actually began.