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‘Harry? Oh, Harry serves his turn as Minister whenever he’s up on the rota, from a sense of duty. And he teaches from a sense of obligation – not only to Albus’s memory, but to his, I mean Harry’s own, particular vision of what our world wants to be. Besides, there’s more than enough in the way of crisis, risk, danger, and sudden alarms and excursion at Hogwarts and at Domdaniel for Harry to enjoy teaching: it’s not precisely the placid backwater that, say, Eton and Oxford would be. But of course it’s field work, a chance to return to the great days of the War, that causes the old warhorse to neigh. Give him the chance to indulge a trick of the old rage and he’s in his element, more gallant than Godric and more cunning than any Slytherin.’
‘And Draco? And Ron?’
Hermione smiled. ‘Yes, of course, they’re of the same kidney. So is Neville. So am I, at the end of the day. Draco doesn’t mind teaching and glories in taking his turn as Minister precisely because he approaches both tasks as “warfare by other means’, as intelligence work, as a chance to engage in his vaunted tradecraft. You couldn’t get Ron to teach a class or give a lecture if you held a wand to his head – I couldn’t, and I do manage my husband rather ruthlessly, you know. But a chance to get back into the field? My dear. For that, he’ll gladly hand off the editorship of Wizden’s to assistants. I suppose there are scores of old retired colonels in the shires who feel the same way, spending their days running the village cricket and straining at the leash to be called in to consult at the MoD.’
***
‘What are you playing at, Malfoy?’
‘What?’
‘I understand that you’ve been at yet another of Pansy Nott’s dos. You and the rest of the so-called heroes of the War. And a number of middling-grade Ministry workers, who are no doubt properly flattered by the attention. Including, I may add, members of my department. I’ve my eye on you, Malfoy.’
‘You read the court-and-social circular, then? How splendid, I was wondering if you’d conquered your illiteracy, McLaggen. You can’t surely think that Parkinson-as-was is having old school friends to dinner and serving conspiracy, party political scheming, and a political stitch-up as the soup course.’
‘That’s exactly what I see.’
‘My dear McLaggen! Pansy is married to Theo, old boy. And Theo’s a judge, you know.’
‘He’s a damned Slytherin – just as you are.’
‘Oh, do grow up, McLaggen. This is
***
‘Simply because you did good enough service in the War, Potter, doesn’t mean you’re entitled to run the world, you and your friends.’
‘Yes? I don’t recall seeing you at the sharp end, McLaggen – I assume not, at least, as the only ones wearing masks were on the other side.’
‘You bastard –’
‘As for your suggestion that those of us who won the victory are trying improperly to secure the peace…. My dear Cormac, this isn’t
***
‘Pansy, darling. Of all your superb soirees, this may be your best to date.’
‘Harry, darling! You and Draco are growing far too much alike for comfort. We’re awfully pleased you were able to make it, the both of you. Draco, my lovely, Theo’s champing at the bit to introduce you to a clever young spark who’s just signing on with the DMLE. Harry, Penelope was asking after you – she and Percy are I believe over there somewhere where darling Blaise and his Gringotts friends are holding court.
‘Oh, super – Hermione, Ron, I’m so pleased that you came along with Draco and dear Harry: Hermione, you come with me, darling, I want your opinion on my herbaceous borders, Justin will look after Ron, won’t you, Justin, dear, I know that Fleur and Bill and Gabrielle were asking after him, do take him in hand, darling, won’t you? Ah! Professor! Just who I was hoping for, Hermione and I were just stepping outside to examine a very perplexing gardening problem….’
***
‘’Allo, Rrrron, Justin.’
‘B’soir, beau-frère. Justin.’
‘Ronniekins! Hullo, Flinch.’
‘Fleur. Gabrielle. Bill, call me that again and I’ll tell Gred and Forge you’ve volunteered for a test subject.’
‘Gabrielle; Weasleys all. Lookin’ for us, I gather?’
‘Right you are, Justin, old man. Ron, if you and Flinch would join us for a spot or two of the good stuff, Fleur and our charming sister-in-law have some news….’
‘Oh, zese English! Beeell, zat is no way to offer an aperitif –’
‘Justin and Ron are family alike, dear, no need to stand upon ceremony. Ah, ah, my enchanting wench, none of your Veela eye-batting, come along now, all of you….’
***
‘Ah. Mister Zabini. I understand from the popular press that the social season is in full swing.’
‘Tiberius. Morning. Your family distillery should be raking it in, then. The Season is good for your, ah, “bottom line”, is it not.’
‘I’m rather more concerned with my public duties, Mr Zabini. Curiously, one hears that more official business is transacted at one of Pansy Parkinson’s – sorry, Nott’s – little gatherings than at the Moot.’
‘One does, I suppose, move in much the same set at both, but I don’t know that I take your point.’
‘I rather think that you do, young Zabini.’
Blaise had long since perfected the literal superciliousness of the raised brow. ‘Do I? You cannot, surely, be tortured by visions of some vast conspiracy over the indifferent claret cup.’
‘Can’t I?’
‘My dear
***
‘Penny, my dear, you look super. Percy. Ragnok, an honour, sir. Blaise. Griphook, always good to see you. Den? Is that your wife I see with her sister, Bill, Ron, and Flinch, having private converse? Dennis Creevey, you dog: are you keeping something from us? A new part-Veela Creevey on order, is there?’
‘Harry!’
Blaise laughed. ‘You’ve finally made the fearless Den Creevey blush, Harry. And no, you ass, I’ve not managed somehow to knock Justin up –’
‘Although not for want of trying,’ said Penny, slyly, causing her prim husband to turn a truly Weasley shade of red. His blushes only deepened when Harry winked at him and said, ‘Almost Weasley-like, eh, Percy? Although you two are lagging rather compared to your parents. Still, as we’ve a quorum of Gringotts directors, it’s never too early to start planning for school fees, is it, Dennis? And I’m sure Penny and Percy have some parenting tips. Here: let’s step into Theo’s study and raid his decanter whilst we talk.’
***
‘A word in your shell-like, young Harry?’
‘Robards.’
‘There’s a bit of concern, not to say resentment, in certain quarters, my boy, anent the giddy social whirl you young warriors are enjoying. And the way in which it seems to result in radical changes in the law every time the Wizengamot sits.’
‘Is there? And why, pray, are my social engagements the business of anyone at all?’
‘Precisely because they lend themselves to, shall we say, alarm.’
‘My dear Gawain. This isn’t
‘Don’t look at me, young Harry. Just a word to the wise on my part, as between friends.’
‘I make no particular claim to wisdom, Robards, but I’m wise enough to know that any conversation between us is hardly “between friends”. So you may as well go and tell your master Rufus to sod off. My social life isn’t his business, and, insofar as I and my friends do happen also to form a portion of the majority in the Moot, and, therefore, of the government of the day, our dining together is hardly a conspiracy against the government, now, is it? Good day to you, Robards.’
***
‘Well, Miss Parkinson – Mrs Nott, I should say? If it were your borders you were truly interested in, you’d hae called upon
‘Why, Headmistress. With whom else would I discuss pruning and cultivation?’
Hermione snorted. Slytherins. They can’t even approach schools reform, save obliquely.
***
‘And what will you be doing in the Journal Office, er – Nigel, is it?’
‘I was thinking you might tell me that, Mr Malfoy? Quite unofficially, of course, I do know already how the written word of my duties runs.’
‘My dear Nigel! I am but a member of the Moot in these quiet days, a humble instrument of my constituency’s will, and quite happily put out to pasture until called upon by the Minister if he should so choose.’
‘With respect, Mr Malfoy, pull the other one.’
‘Ah, I can tell already that I’m going to take a very great interest in your career, my perceptive young friend.’
***
‘Ah. Harry.’
‘Scrimgeour.’
‘You were quite rude to poor Gawain, you know.’
‘In light of past precedent, you cannot plausibly claim to be surprised.’
‘And, through him, to me.’
‘I refer the right honourable gentleman to my previous answer.’
‘We could have been your allies, you know – quite valuable ones.’
‘Odd. That’s much the same thing that Northumberland and the Stanleys swore to Richard 3d before Bosworth.’
***
‘McLaggen … you really want not to be let abroad without a keeper.’
‘I was a Keeper.’
‘And a very poor one, at that. Get out, McLaggen. And do not slam my door in your petulance.’
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