The Girl Who Saw Tomorrow » Harry Potter

1.43 | Dumbledore's Got Style

The walk to the Headmaster's office was nothing short of tensed, the five minutes stretching out to an eternity.

"Fizzing Whizbee," Umbridge sings most happily. The stone gargoyle started spinning upwards and Umbridge pushed Margaret and Harry onto the stairs, her stubby fingers still seizing their arms tightly. They reached the large oaken doors with the gryphon knocker but she did not bother to knock, striding straight inside with the two.

Instantly, Margaret changed her demeanour.

"Why have you brought us here? What's going on?" she asks, looking disbelieved at the happenings. She turned to face the office, which was full of people.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was rocking back and forth on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation. Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard called John Dawlish were positioned on either side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered excitedly on the left, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands.

The portraits of old Headmasters and Headmistresses were not feigning sleep tonight. All of them were watching what was happening below, alert and serious. At the sight of Harry and Margaret, a few flitted into neighbouring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbours' ears.

"You know very well why you are both here, dear," says Umbridge sweetly, attempting to push her and Harry to the middle of the room but both of them pulled themselves free from her grasp.

"As a matter of fact," Margaret goes on challengingly, "no, we don't."

Cornelius Fudge was glaring at Harry with a kind of vicious satisfaction on his face. Harry replied with the dirtiest look he could muster before Fudge the looked to Margaret.

"And who might you be?" he asks.

"Margaret Xenakis," she responds simply.

"The Canadian transfer student. The two of them were heading back to Gryffindor Tower," Umbridge informs, an indecent excitement in her voice. "Malfoy and Parkinson cornered them."

"Ah, I've heard a lot about you, Miss Xenakis," says Fudge, nodding knowingly before looking from her to Harry again. "Well, Potter... I expect you know why you are here?"

Margaret looked at Dumbledore.

The Headmaster was not looking directly at Harry; his eyes were fixed upon a point just over his shoulder, but he shook his head a fraction of an inch to each side.

Harry changed direction mid-word. "Yeh- no."

"I beg your pardon?" asks Fudge.

"No," Harry answers firmly.

"You don't know why you are here?"

"No, we don't," Harry says.

Margaret shrugged, shaking her head when Fudge turned his head to her. He looked incredulously to Professor Umbridge.

Amidst the distraction, Dumbledore gave the carpet the tiniest of nods and the shadow of a wink when Harry and Margaret stole another quick glance at him.

"So you have no idea," Fudge begins in a voice sagging with sarcasm, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you both to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"

"School rules?" Margaret asks, incredulous. "No!"

"Or Ministry decrees?" Fudge continues irritably.