Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to resist. You intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Weasley, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?

“Merlin’s beard, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.”

“He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.

“Right, we believe in Professor Dumbledore too!” Harry drew his wand.

For a moment, everyone in the office pulled out their wands, and the atmosphere was thick with tension.

Evan thought for a while and didn’t move. They didn’t need to take action, as the headmaster would handle everything.

“Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you, and you, and especially you, Harry, don’t be stupid.”

“Enough of this rubbish!” said Fudge, pulling out his own wand. “Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!”

The next second, a streak of silver light flashed around the room. There was a bang like a gunshot, and the floor trembled.

Evan hurriedly hugged Hermione and Elaine and lay down, and Professor McGonagall also moved to shield them as a second silver flash went off — several of the portraits yelled, Fawkes screeched, and a cloud of dust filled the air.

Through the thick dust, Evan saw Dumbledore jumping out from behind the desk. In the haze, Fudge fell to the ground with a crash. There was a shriek and a thud; then the sound of breaking glass, frantically scuffling footsteps, a groan — and silence.

Evan climbed up, and under him were Hermione and Elaine, struggling to rise.

Harry was protected by Professor McGonagall, and dust was still floating gently down through the air onto them.

“What happened?”

“It’s all over!”

A very tall figure was moving toward them in the dust.

“Are you all right?” said Dumbledore.

“Yes!” said Professor McGonagall, getting up and dragging Evan, Harry, Hermione and Elaine with her.

The dust was clearing. The wreckage of the office loomed into view: Dumbledore’s desk had been overturned; all of the spindly tables had been knocked to the floor, their silver instruments in pieces. Fudge, Kingsley and Dawlish lay motionless on the floor, making no sound at all.

Fawkes the phoenix soared in wide circles above them, singing softly.

“Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked very suspicious,” said Dumbledore in a low voice. “Now, we need to hurry up, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate — you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember —”

“Where will you go, Dumbledore?” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Grimmauld Place?”

“Let’s meet there first,” said Dumbledore. “Then, we still have some things to deal with in Norway. Elaine, if possible, I hope you can leave with me. Your uncle’s injuries have healed. We need to solve a little trouble left by your family and find out some secrets.”

“Professor, we should go too,” said Evan. “We’ve just attacked Umbridge in the Forbidden Forest and handed her over to Hagrid’s brother, Grawp. If Fudge asks, we won’t be able to explain it. And there’s the plan I had Sirius tell you about…”

“Oh, yes!” said Dumbledore. “You can come with me, Evan; you’ll be of help this time.”

“And Hermione,” Evan added, “she’s been involved in the attack on Umbridge, she can’t stay here either!”

“And me!” Harry quickly interjected.

“No, Harry, you stay!” said Dumbledore urgently, still not looking into Harry’s eyes. “Listen to me, the most important thing right now is Occlumency. You must study it as hard as you can, do you understand me? Master it, do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly every night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams. You must promise me!”

“Professor, I…”

The man called Dawlish was stirring. Dumbledore seized Harry’s wrist.

“Remember — close your mind —”

But as Dumbledore’s fingers closed over Harry’s skin, a pain shot through the scar on his forehead, and he felt again that terrible longing to strike Dumbledore.

“You will understand,” whispered Dumbledore. “Come on, you three, grab onto me!”

Fawkes circled the office and swooped low over Dumbledore.

Evan hurriedly took hold of Dumbledore’s outstretched left hand, while Hermione and Elaine grabbed him.

Dumbledore raised one hand and grasped the phoenix’s long golden tail. There was a flash of fire and the five of them had gone.

Only Professor McGonagall and poor Harry were left in the office, and he looked helplessly at what was happening in front of him.

The hatred for Dumbledore deep in his heart had not disappeared, and he was not sure if it was even stronger!

“Quick, get down, Potter!” Professor McGonagall whispered.

“Where is he?” yelled Fudge a few seconds later, pushing himself up from the ground. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know!” shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet. “He took those three children away!”

“He Disapparated!”

“No, he can’t have Disapparated! You can’t inside this school!”

“The stairs!” cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Percy. Fudge hesitated, then got to his feet slowly, brushing dust from his front. There was a long and painful silence.

“Well, Minerva,” said Fudge nastily, straightening his torn shirtsleeve, “I’m afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore.”

“You think so, do you?” said Professor McGonagall scornfully.

Fudge seemed not to hear her. He was looking around at the wrecked office.

A few of the portraits hissed at him; one or two even made rude hand gestures.

“You’d better get Potter off to bed,” said Fudge, looking back at Professor McGonagall with a dismissive nod toward Harry. “I will wait here for their return. And where did Dolores go? I need her to take full control of this school as soon as possible. It’s all over; the Ministry has won.”

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