“Draco Malfoy! Those are not for you!” Professor Minerva McGonagall lightly slapped at the boy’s hand as it tried to take a cookie from the heaping tray. Draco withdrew his hand with a frown as she levitated the tray to another table. When she had her back turned he held up one hand and mimicked her talking silently, a dark look on his face, pulling his hand down quickly just before she turned to look at him again.

“Those cookies are for the Minister and his staff!” she scolded him again. It was summer time and the Minister of Magic and his staff were on their way to the castle later that day to take a look at the new security measures that had been put into place since the end of the school year three weeks ago. The enhanced security and anti intruder charms had been put in place both in the hopes to protect the students attending the following year, and also in the hopes of putting the parents that had taken their children out of school at peace of mind so that they would bring their kids back. After Voldemort’s attack on the school the previous fall along with the ten or so student and staff deaths he had caused, so many students had been pulled from classes that the Headmaster had seriously considered permanently merging certain classes with each other to have enough students at one time to teach.

Draco made a face of disgust as the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge was mentioned and McGonagall nodded in agreement, before saying, “If I find one cookie missing from this tray…”

“Professor Snape will be having words with you,” he finished obediently. This was not the first time in the last three weeks he had heard this. Luckily he knew that the kind of minor mischief he had gotten into the last three weeks were the kinds of things Severus Snape would not care about. Words with Snape about a missing cookie that belonged to the Minister wasn’t even worth a slap on the wrist as far as Professor Snape would be concerned.

“Yes,” McGonagall said. She turned and hurried out of the room. Because Dumbledore was still off in another part of the castle adding extra safety charms, McGonagall had taken things upon herself as Deputy Headmistress to ensure that the Minister and his staff would have a comfortable stay at the castle for the entire two hours that they would be there.

Draco made another face and stuck out his tongue at the retreating back of McGonagall, and stuck his hand out to take a cookie. “I’m watching you!” she called behind her back however before she was completely out of the room. Draco frowned and again withdrew his hand. This is how his summer had been so far. Usually this time of year he would be back on their large estate, and he would be flying around with Crabbe and Goyle playing Quidditch. As it was now, he couldn’t even leave the castle to get some fresh air out on the grounds, little lone go and play Quidditch. As far as he was concerned, this was bound to be the worst summer of his life.

Draco sat down at the long house table in the Great Hall that Ravenclaws usually sat at during the year, and as he did so Harry walked in.

Harry looked around for a moment before spotting Draco and the large tray of cookies next to him, and walking over to the tray. Just as Draco had done, he reached out his hand for a cookie.

“Those aren’t for you!” McGonagall’s voice filled the hall, and Harry withdrew his hand, looking around for the source of the voice.

He frowned when he did not find his head of house, and again reached forward to take a cookie. “Those are for the Minister!” He withdrew his hand again.

“Where is she?” he asked, wondering where McGonagall was that she could see him, and he couldn’t see her.

Draco shrugged. He moved his hand toward the tray, and when it came close to it, McGonagall’s voice called as if from a distance, “I’m watching you!”

Harry and Draco laughed, realizing that the cookies were charmed to shout things at them if they tried to take one. At the same time both boys reached forward, taking several cookies to protests from the Professor’s voice.

“She’s going to come after me when she finds they’re missing,” Draco said as they hurried out of the hall before she could return.

“There were at least a hundred cookies on that tray… how could she notice six of them missing?”

From above them they could hear McGonagall talking to somebody beyond the grand marble steps that lead to the first floor, and hurried out of sight. Draco hurried through the stone archway that lead down to the dungeons, where he would have the entire Slytherin common room to himself, and Harry made for the corridor that lead to the kitchens and Hufflepuff common room.

Harry had no real interest in continuing down this hall, so he waited instead behind the closed door to finish his cookies or for McGonagall to pass by, whichever came first, so that he could make his way back up to a higher part of the castle. He had no real interest in going back to Gryffindor common room, because it felt too empty to him. He would much rather be spending the summer at Ron’s house or somewhere else instead of in an empty castle where he only saw people at meal times, or occasionally bumped into Professors or Draco. The only person he saw on a regular basis was Severus.

Unexpectedly the door back to the Entrance Hall opened, and filled the darkened corridor with light. Harry grinned guiltily as McGonagall held her hand out for the remaining cookie he had not yet eaten.

“You did not eat five cookies Harry Potter,” she said, holding out her hand for the other four that he must have had hidden in a pant pocket.

He shrugged. “Who were they for?”

She looked down at him, wondering that he had eaten so many in the three minutes that she had gone to speak with Professor Flitwick.

“The Minister!” He grinned again, knowing that the Minister would never eat a hundred cookies in his few hours there looking at spells and enchantments.

“Sorry,” he said, not really sorry at all, which was obvious because of the smile he could not rid himself of.

“Don’t make me send you down to the dungeons Harry.” He could tell that this was supposed to be a threat, but she really had no idea that in the past year that she had sent him to detention down in the dungeons with Snape, or sent him down there to be talked to, he had really not been punished at all.

“Sorry,” he said again, trying to act sincere. McGonagall still did not believe him, but did not feel like dealing with him at that moment.

“The Minister is due any time,” she said. “It would be appreciated if you and Mr. Malfoy stayed out of the way while he is here.”

Harry nodded, “Yes maam.” Staying out of the way was something he could do.

Thinking quickly, and knowing he had no real chance at success, he said, “I’d be far out of the way if you let me out to fly around the Quidditch pitch for a couple of-” she looked down her long nose at him and shook her head.

“You know the rules.”

“Yes maam.” She left him there, cookie-less… and he let his head fall back against the stone wall as the door closed behind her. Some summer this was turning out to be. At least he was free of the Dursley’s, he thought to himself. That had to count for something.


Albus Dumbledore walked around the castle slowly, Cornelius Fudge and four of his uninterested assistants in tow, one of them being Percy Weasley.

“Of course the grounds have been charmed with some very old magic not found in any book,” Dumbledore told the Minister. Percy copied down the information hurriedly whenever Dumbledore said something, even if it was unimportant or unrelated to magic protecting the school. “We now have charms preventing any intruders coming from the sky or coming in by broom. The only way in now is to walk in the front gates, where there are extra charms against unfriendlies and a number of aurors on twenty-four hour guard.”

Cornelius nodded. “Good, good,” he paused and looked around the empty hall, and then asked, “What about the Potter and Malfoy boys? They have been keeping busy?”

Dumbledore raised a brow, wondering what the Minister’s curiosity about the boys was about. He nodded, and said, “They are young men, and as such I expect that they would much rather be running around with other people their age, rather than stuck inside an empty castle for three months.” He had seen Harry staring out a window for long hours towards the Quidditch pitch, and Draco also being a Seeker, he imagined that he had done the same thing.

Fudge frowned. “I still do not understand why they have not been sent home to their families.” Percy stopped writing and looked up curiously at this, a pompous look on his face that Rita Skeeter was sometimes known to wear. It was a look that said: readers want to know.

Dumbledore began walking again and as they turned a corner in the corridor, he said, “You know very well the dangers that Voldemort presents to two unguarded, underage boys that he wishes to kill.” Fudge and all four of his assistants flinched at the use of Voldemort’s name.

“What about the other students then Dumbledore?” Fudge asked, trying to catch him at something. “You Know Who doesn’t have it out for them? What if they seek protection here?”

“Any student that seeks protection from these walls shall have it Cornelius,” he told him calmly, “especially those that need it more than others. Young Mr. Malfoy is in danger not only from Lord Voldemort, but also by his own relatives… Voldemort has seen to that. It came to our attention two months before the attack on the school last year that Mr. Potter’s relatives had been mistreating him, and that it was no longer safe for him to be under their guardianship. Plans had been made for both boys to stay at the castle before the attack on the school.” Dumbledore remembered Mrs. Malfoy coming to him at the beginning of the year begging him to let her son stay there over the summer because her husband was getting more dangerous and violent every day. He had agreed without hesitation to let Draco stay there, even though the boy had not been informed of his mother’s decision until after the battle.

Fudge hmpfd at the information Dumbledore had given him. “This is not a hotel Albus.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “No, it is not. It is not uncommon however for students that have been endangered by family in the past to stay over the summer. And imagine,” he said, “what the press would do if they found out that both the school and the Minister of Magic and his staff knew that a student’s life was in danger, and did nothing about it, thus resulting in a student’s death.”

They stopped walking again as Fudge thought this over. “These are dark times Dumbledore,” he said seriously. “The Hogwarts administrative board has all but fallen to pieces with the disappearance of Lucius Malfoy and the death of Gregorovitch Goyle Senior… the Dark Lord is making it hard on the Ministry of Magic these days… we found three employees Imperiused last week. The press is asking questions, as well as those who would have my seat as Minister… I am all for you remaining Headmaster of this school, but be aware that with things in their current state, you must watch your back as much as I must watch mine.” Fudge had moved closer and closer in to speak with Dumbledore as he spoke, making it harder for his assistants and Percy to hear what they said.

“Dark times indeed Cornelius,” he said calmly, nodding. “And darker still they will be if we do not band together as a whole to fight off the evil that tries to overtake us. Divided as we are, we will fall, and not rise up again.” He paused, and then said again, “Any student or other wizard seeking safety within the walls of this castle shall have it… and we shall continue to raise protective enchantments and barriers until the next attack comes.”

Fudge frowned. “You believe he will attack again?”

“It is likely that he will do so. The castle presents too tempting a target with so many within it’s bounds that he wishes to utterly destroy.”

Fudge sighed. “What if things are already too dark and too divided to put them back the way they were again?”

“They cannot ever go back to the way they were Cornelius,” Dumbledore told him darkly. “Once we push back the evil forces at work here, we must not take things back to the way they were, or another evil force will rise in place of the one that will fall, and we will be back to the exact same battle all over again with a different enemy.”

“What would you have me do then?” Fudge asked, suddenly angry.

Dumbledore shook his head. “Name a successor now to your command in the untimely event that you do not make it through this battle, and another after that and another after that… make the names secret, known to no one but yourself and the enchantment you place on that knowledge… without a leader the wizarding community that we live in will fall to ruin, and darkness will step up in place of light.”

“And who do I name to take my place? You? You’ve wanted my job since before I had it!” He laughed as if the notion of him naming a successor now was ridiculous.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “No Cornelius, do not name me. It is unlikely that either of us will survive this final push that Voldemort makes to gain leadership of our world. Name people with experience… not with experience in politics, but in uniting people together. List successors that are full of courage, and not pride. Name successors who are humble and honest, and who were born to lead a people. Pride, arrogance, and dishonesty are the traits that Voldemort will bring in place of all that is good… so you must do the opposite.”

Fudge ran his hand through his already messy hair. He looked worn, and it was obvious that Voldemort’s uprising was taking a toll on him, as it was on everybody else.

“His followers killed 12 wizards last week Albus, and over 20 Muggles… we are stretched too thin in the Magical Law Enforcement department to stop him. Soon there will be no one to name as successor but the children you protect through the year.”

Dumbledore nodded. “There are 16 aurors assigned here on permanent duty. Take them back under your command.”

“But the children-” Fudge started. The Headmaster held up his hand.

“The barriers we have up now will protect them, and even if they were to fail, we fought off the tide of war before the aurors showed up… I cannot deny that it puts a small amount of peace in my mind to have them here, but at the same time, this castle and these grounds are the most guarded in all the wizarding community. Your people are needed elsewhere, at least for the time being.”

Fudge nodded. “Fine.” He looked around for his assistants, and was surprised to find them standing fifteen feet or so behind them, straining to hear what was being said. He motioned to the eldest assistant, a short brown haired man, still no older than 24, and told him, “Take Percy and go to the front gates of the school. Tell the aurors to leave their four best officers at the school. The other twelve will be returning to duty at the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible.” The man nodded and he and Percy hurried off, Percy scribbling notes down furiously as they went. Fudge then turned to his other two assistants, and said, “Go to the school owlery and send word to the head of Auror’s office that it is by my order that eight of his people return to regular duty.” These assistants also hurried off, and once they were out of earshot, Fudge turned back to Dumbledore, who had now raised a brow at the orders given.

The Minister looked around nervously, and said, “I trust three of my assistants with my life Albus… the fourth I believe to be an agent of the Dark Lord. Can you guess which one will run to him with all the information just exchanged between you and I?”

Dumbledore smiled sadly and nodded. “Mr. Weasley has long since fallen out of step with his family, and I believe it has done him only harm.” Fudge nodded.

“I’ll leave eight aurors with you… do with them what you will. As the months go on I will send them back to you one at a time until there are 16 again.”