The Staff of Orkney

Chapter XII

The Minister of Magic

All Harry could do was stare down at the cold and stiff body of the Minister of Magic. Though LeSal had not spoken the words, he knew what spell had been cast.

“What have I done? What have I done?”

Looking up, Harry immediately watched Professor LeSal. He had dropped his staff in the dirt and looked as if he were about to rip his hair out. Professor Snape solemnly drifted over to where Fudge lay and lightly tapped his wand on the Minister’s pale forehead. Not seeing what he wanted, but what he certainly expected, Snape drew a hand over Fudge’s eyes before looking over at Harry.

The aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse still lingered and Harry’s whole body ached. He also felt like he had been hit with a mallet where his scar stood on his forehead.

“Are you all right?” Snape asked, but there was no emotion in the question, seemingly little concern, he might as well have been asking what the uses of a boomslang skin were.

Harry knew that he looked a fright, so he nodded and replied, “I’ll be fine.” He found his voice shaky.

Snape gave a terse nod then rose to his feet. LeSal cringed under his stare.

“I’m so sorry. Oh, Severus—I didn’t mean to… You know that I’ve been trying.” He slid down and plopped himself in the dust, staring pathetically over at Fudge’s corpse. “I didn’t…” His whole face looked tortured. “And Harry—I meant no…” Both him and Snape had glanced over toward the school, spotting an approaching figure with a telltale white beard. “Oh, no…”

Snape was standing rigid to the spot, but he stepped closer to his cousin who looked about to start crying at any moment.

It took a while for Dumbledore to say anything. At first, he walked over to the pile of ashes and stared long and hard at them before he turned and faced the Snapes. That’s when he spotted the prostrate figure of Cornelius Fudge.

One could have heard the whisperings of a grass faerie, the air had become so deadly muffled. Dumbledore just seemed to stare, unbelieving. His whole face took on a deeply saddened expression.

Finally, LeSal broke the uneasy silence, “I—I—didn’t intend to…”

Dumbledore put his hand up for quiet. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off Fudge.

Harry decided to try and look less pitiful and attempted to get to his feet, but soon found his legs to be plagued with little earthquakes, and he fell over. This gained Dumbledore’s attention, and he focused next on Harry. His expression quickly transformed from depression to one of anger. His normally glittering eyes flashed fiercely at LeSal.

“What happened here?” The question was simple, yet so very cold.

LeSal’s face turned ashen. He looked down at his empty hands, looking ready to sob into them. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Two.” This made LeSal jump. “Not one, but two Unforgivable Curses.” Dumbledore was furious.

LeSal looked up into Dumbledore’s accusing eyes, clearly trying to decide if there was anything he could possibly say to lessen the anger. Not knowing why, Harry felt the need to say something, even as Dumbledore turned to Professor Snape, “And I’m sure that you were partly responsible for that, Severus,” and Dumbledore pointed to the piles of smoldering ash. His finger was shaking.

Finally Harry gathered the courage to speak. He knew that there was no chance of Snape ever saying anything to help him get out of a detention, but then again, the Snapes weren’t in trouble for some meager school rule infraction. “They saved my life.” Dumbledore turned and stared down at him, so did both Professors LeSal and Snape. “Fudge was going to hand me over to Voldemort. Professor Snape tried to stop him, but it didn’t work. They had to do what they did.”

This succeeded in making Dumbledore look less angry, but he now looked sorely disappointed. “There are so many alternatives to the Unforgivable Curses, Harry,” Dumbledore informed quietly. “A wizard has no excuse for using them—that is why they are unforgivable.” He turned back to LeSal who had stood up.

His shoulders were slumped over, and he looked resigned to his fate: a short future in Azkaban. Harry wondered if Azkaban was still holding prisoners and if the Dementors were still there or had just become ash in a flash before him. But LeSal didn’t look at all himself. With his hair falling down and his sagging posture, he looked like a broken man.

“Take my staff, Dumbledore,” he said softly. “I don’t deserve to do magic ever again.”

At this, Professor Snape looked shocked and then shot Dumbledore a readable imploring look. Remembering what Hermione had said about wizards attached to a Mage’s Staff, Harry realized that this was also a death wish on the part of LeSal.

Dumbledore let out a long, drawn out breath. “No, you shouldn’t, not after this. But…you keep your staff—for now.”

LeSal looked down at the staff but didn’t pick it up. “I’ve shown that I can’t handle it,” he argued.

Dumbledore drew his wand and with it, levitated the staff and kept it hovering until LeSal took a hold of it. The stone had gone back to blue.

“Darkness,” said Dumbledore, “is easily invited into one’s heart, but it is not so easy to make it leave. It takes a lot of strength and perseverance to rid oneself of evil, and even when one thinks he is winning the battle, the darkness can reappear. It is a tenacious foe.”

While Dumbledore said this, LeSal had been staring down at the dirt. He understood and in return, mumbled softly, “But I haven’t the strength to fight it anymore.”

Dumbledore returned to the wise, fatherly tone Harry had become so accustomed to. “I seem to remember a boy that attended school here more that sixteen years back, I believe. Was placed in Slytherin, and came up with nasty little pranks to impress his peers and hide what I saw inside of him. He had so much spirit in him and seemed so afraid to let it show. It saddened me, because I saw that he was surrounded by those who already had one foot on the dark side. I had hoped that he would listen to his heart—for despite what he showed to others, he had a good heart. He used to come to my office in tears from worry about his aunt and uncle who had taken him in. I remember the day after they were killed by Aurors, when he came to see me, wondering what he might do to keep his older cousin, whom he so admired, from suffering the same fate.”

Harry then saw something that he never thought he’d ever see. Professor Snape was looking downward with a truly hurt expression set on his face. Now he understood what LeSal had meant that day about Snape’s “advice.”

“When he had left to follow the Dark Arts, that was one of the most disappointing moments in my career at Hogwarts. I still hoped he would come back. That he hadn’t lost all the potential I had seen in him.”

Dumbledore stopped talking and LeSal could not bring himself to look at him. He leaned heavily on his staff and stared into the stone.

Realizing that the Snapes most likely didn’t want to hear more, Dumbledore said simply, “I don’t want to accept that that boy has become another casualty of Lord Voldemort, and I’m not ready to give up on him if you’re not. However, where Fudge is concerned, it will be up to the new Minister of Magic to decide what to do. Until then, Severus will take over your classes, and you’re not to perform any magic without consent of I or Severus.”

* * * * *

Christmas approached quickly, and it was far more difficult to be merry this year. Evidently, some of the professors were feeling the pressure of having no pay.

There were many who worried about the students; that the parents would withdraw their children from the school, but amazingly, few did. It seemed that they knew Lord Voldemort was on the prowl and felt their children to be safest at Hogwarts. This was proven by the fact that many students signed on to stay over the holidays. Surprisingly, many of the Slytherins stayed as well, though their reasons were probably different, as Harry heard Malfoy put it, their parents would be “busy” this season.

Despite the gloomy atmosphere, something joyful did happen the week before Christmas.

A lively game of Snapdragon had been started in the Great Hall. Hermione had enchanted a bowl full of sugared dates to hover over them and had it produce flames around the outer edge. Fred seemed to have collected the most dates and was declared the winner until Lee Jordan pointed out that he had used an anti-burn charm on his hand and wrist, then the game began all over again. Ron seemed to be in the lead when they heard a large number of voices nearing the hall.

“After the discovery of Fudge’s true intentions, we decided to review the decision to remove you from your post,” it was Mr. Weasley. “I, of course, decided to turn to the board of governors.”

“We weren’t given all the facts,” an unknown witch was speaking. “And Fudge wasn’t giving us the freedom we normally have.”

“I questioned him about it, but he wouldn’t budge. Unfortunately, I now know what his agenda was.” Harry immediately recognized Percy’s voice.

Soon he saw that it was in fact him, for the group moved into the hall. The game had stopped and they stood staring. There was Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, and facing them were Percy, a witch in a green dress and old, dusty witch’s hat with a vulture glued on, two wizards whom Harry had never seen, and Arthur Weasley, who looked worn and exhausted with dark circles under his eyes.

“In times like these, I know how important our children’s education is, so one of the first things I did was appoint some new governors who were willing to take on such a task in times like these. So we now have Percy, who is now the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mrs. Longbottom, and Mr. Robert Fletchly on the board of governors.” Dumbledore seemed very pleased at what Mr. Weasley was saying.

“Blimey,” George whispered.

“I see it,” Fred whispered back.

“What?” Ron and Harry asked in unison.

“What dad is wearing on his robes.”

Ron’s mouth seemed to drop to the floor and his eyes brightened. Harry spotted the silver badge and recognized it to be like the one Fudge always wore.

“They made dad the Minister?”

“They made dad the Minister of Magic!”

Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen Ron so excited, and he found himself boiling over with excitement as well.

Mr. Weasley took notice of them and waved. Ron and the twins went running over.

“They made you the Minister?” Mr. Weasley encouraged a smile as his sons gathered around bubbling with happiness.

“Ah, I was hoping to surprise you,” he said, putting one hand on Fred’s shoulder and the other on George. “I was appointed just this morning. I can hardly wait to go home.”

“I wonder how long it will take mom to notice,” Ron said, touching the badge with awe.

Harry watched Dumbledore and McGonagall as the Weasley’s laughed and cried with joy. They were beaming. They knew that Mr. Weasley’s appointment would cause change—good change. Snape was standing off to the side and while he didn’t look thrilled, he didn’t look unhappy either. He thought then about the decision that had to be made concerning LeSal.

* * * * *

Ron, Fred , and George pleaded to go home, but Mr. Weasley wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted that they stay within the safe walls of Hogwarts, especially since he was now Minister of Magic and would be drawing attention to the family.

“We get to move into the Minister’s house,” Ron chattered at breakfast on Christmas morning. He had received an owl from his mother and sat reading over it. “Mum of course, feels bad for Fudge. He didn’t have any family, so they’re trying to figure out what to do with all of his things.”

When Ron said this, Harry glanced over at the head table. Snape had just sat down looking especially glum. LeSal’s seat had been empty and remained so.

“So I wonder if they locked that nutter up in Azkaban,” Ron snorted. “After setting that curse on you; I hope he rots.”

“Yea, and I heard about that spell he placed on the Dementors,” Seamus put in. “Heard that it wasn’t pretty and that Dumbledore was fumin’ mad.”

“You weren’t there,” Harry interjected. Again, he found himself defending the Snapes, and truth be told, he was worried about LeSal. His plate of bacon and eggs suddenly didn’t look too appetizing.

Ron or George or Seamus said something else, but Harry had pushed them from his mind. He didn’t know why, in fact, it seemed like the last thing he’d ever decide to do, but he unexpectedly left his seat and headed for the head table. Purposefully, he walked up to Snape. However, once he stood there, whatever force had made him come this far, conveniently went AWOL.

After standing there for a moment, Professor Snape noticed him and turned around, giving him a look as if Harry had just begun to sprout eggplants out his ears. “Mr. Potter, can I help you?” Snape said this with such a tone that it became clear to Harry that he wanted him to say no and return to his seat.

“Um.” Snape’s black eyes seemed to be draining all vocabulary from Harry’s mind. Wildly, he tried to think of what had encouraged him to come forward. Then Dumbledore saved him.

“Is something the matter, Harry?”

Dumbledore’s presence gave him a sudden rush of courage. “I just wanted to say thank you to Professor Snape and his cousin for saving me from Fudge. And I was wondering…I was wondering if Professor LeSal would be coming back.” He forced out the last part.

Dumbledore gave a slight, warm smile. “Professor LeSal will be returning. In fact, he was expected to arrive yesterday.”

Professor Snape looked uncomfortable and Harry wished he hadn’t thanked him because now Snape was going to have to acknowledge it.

“I was hoping that he was coming back.” Harry then began to back away.

“Mr. Potter.” He stopped. “You stood up well.” Snape seemed to have a strange twitch going on near his mouth. “I’ve been impressed, especially after the events during the Triwizard Tournament.”

Harry was stunned. Dumbledore sent him an encouraging smile from behind Snape’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Harry managed, and he hurried to his seat before any more awkward moments could arise.

“What was that all about?” asked Ron as he sat back down.

“I just asked if Professor LeSal was returning.”

“And?”

“He may come back today.” He was glad that he wasn’t going to have to share what just happened between him and Snape. Evidently, Ron hadn’t noticed it. He wasn’t quite sure he knew what had gone on himself.

They were quiet while they finished their breakfast and were just about to leave when Malfoy walked by. “No, Goyle. How many times do I have to tell you? Now I can see why your father doesn’t tell you anything.” Harry’s ears perked up, and he momentarily pushed Snape’s compliment out of the forefront of his mind. “My father told me what we have to do at Hogwarts. We’re closest to Dumbledore, after all, and it’s pretty pathetic if you’ve forgotten our duty that the Dark…”

“But I thought that Professors Snape and…”

Malfoy noticed Harry and shut his trap and slapped Goyle to do the same.

“I’ll refresh that memory of yours later tonight,” he whispered.

An uneasy feeling came and rested upon Harry’s shoulders. “Did you hear that?” he asked Ron.

“Hear what?” Ron had been busy licking bacon grease from his fingers.

“Malfoy.”

“What about him?”

“He’s up to something.”

“Since when wasn’t he?”