"What request?" Jon asked quickly.
Albus Dumbledore didn't seem the least bit hurried.
"However, I'll have to tell you about this request later," he said calmly. "Right now, we need to prepare for certain matters. With the Dark Lord's return, there are many things that require my attention."
As he spoke, he waved Jon off noncommittally... then strode toward the office door.
Jon hesitated for a moment, but ultimately chose to follow.
The instant he stepped out of the semicircular office, he felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over him... Lowering his head, his entire body seemed to blur, as though melting into the surrounding environment.
Dumbledore turned back, gave him a slight nod, and motioned for him to keep up.
The Disillusionment Charm!
This wasn't Jon's first encounter with the spell. A year ago, at this very time, Dumbledore had used it on him to rescue Buckbeak, the hippogriff.
...
Following Dumbledore, the concealed Jon descended the spiral staircase.
As they passed the grotesque stone gargoyle, Jon noticed it sneaking a sly wink in his direction, accompanied by a sly, wolfish grin.
But it lasted only a second. The gargoyle quickly lifted its head high again, resuming its usual cold, aloof demeanor.
On the other side, several people were arguing loudly.
It didn't take Jon long to recognize the voices—one was Professor Minerva McGonagall, another was Professor Severus Snape. The last, flustered and almost comical, clearly belonged to Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.
Fudge's voice carried a nervous edge.
"What's going on?" Dumbledore called out loudly as he stepped forward.
Jon seized the opportunity to slip quietly into a corner, ensuring the two professors and the Minister wouldn't notice him.
"Minerva and Severus told me... they actually believed that boy's false, ridiculous story... they actually believe the Dark Lord has returned..." Fudge stammered.
"That's right," Dumbledore nodded. "I believe it too."
"Impossible!" Fudge forced an incredulous look. "You should know better, Dumbledore... You-Know-Who vanished thirteen years ago. Thirteen years! He was gone, reduced to nothing but dust..."
"But he has returned," Dumbledore replied, his tone completely even. He might as well have been saying, "My silly bird wandered off a few days ago and has now come back."
"Are you joking, Dumbledore!" Fudge sputtered, his composure slipping into anger. "With no evidence at all, you're willing to believe the word of a vain, ridiculous boy? Last year at this time, he was insisting Sirius Black was innocent—and what then? That boy, Harry Potter—"
"Don't you dare speak of Potter like that!" Professor McGonagall snapped.
"It's the truth!" Fudge stamped his foot furiously. "I read it in the Daily Prophet. It said—"
"I hardly think Rita Skeeter's writings about Potter could be called objective!" McGonagall marched up to Fudge, lips pressed tightly together. "Minister!"
The title was practically shouted.
Fudge shrank back, clearly intimidated, retreating a few steps.
"Potter is not lying!" Snape advanced as well, his voice cold and cutting. "Because the other boy did not die for nothing."
With that, he yanked up his sleeve.
From Jon's vantage point, the mark on Snape's right arm was clear.
A massive skull, with a giant serpent slithering from its jaws like a tongue.
The Dark Mark—gleaming ominously.
"He's summoning us," Snape said, his voice like something dragged up from the depths of hell. "His power has returned... You know who I mean."
"Aaargh..." Fudge let out a strangled cry, as though bitten by something.
He stumbled back in a panic, nearly tripping over a foot slyly extended by the stone gargoyle. It almost seemed the wretched creature had done it on purpose.
"Madmen... this entire school is filled with madmen!" Cornelius Fudge shrieked hysterically. "I don't know what tricks you're playing at, Dumbledore, but I've heard enough!"
"Look at what you've done, Dumbledore! You let a murderous basilisk roam the school for over half a year; you allowed the fugitive Black to break in time and time again; you hired a werewolf, kept a half-giant, and even decided what to teach without consulting the Ministry!" Fudge raged, his voice rising with every word. "I've had enough!"
Still shouting, he retreated step by step.
At the end of the corridor, Fudge suddenly lifted his head.
"He won't be coming back, Dumbledore. He can't..."
But when his eyes met Dumbledore's unshakable expression, he looked as though he'd been struck by a heavy blow... The Minister of Magic turned and fled.
...
Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape looked furious.
But Dumbledore remained calm as he gave his orders.
"Minerva, please go to Hagrid's hut and bring him here. If Madame Maxime is willing, she may join us as well."
"Yes, Headmaster," McGonagall nodded.
"Severus, go to the Whomping Willow and fetch one of those lively black hounds. Be careful it doesn't bite you."
Snape looked slightly surprised at the command, but after a moment he nodded.
At the door of the Headmaster's Office, only Albus Dumbledore remained.
And, of course, Jon, still concealed under the Disillusionment Charm.
"Cornelius and the wizarding world have enjoyed over a decade of peace. They've lost their courage," Dumbledore murmured, almost to himself. "So when faced with a real threat, their first instinct is to flee... to deceive themselves."
"Headmaster, are you using the Minister as a way of mocking me?" Jon asked quietly from the shadows.
"Of course not," Dumbledore shook his head. "There are many kinds of avoidance. But burying one's head in the sand like an ostrich... I find that rather foolish."
Jon wasn't sure how to respond.
"Come," Dumbledore said gently. "We need to check on poor Alastor."