Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 258: Doubts
Fleamont Potter was busy working on his paperwork. The end of the war may have gone unnoticed by most citizens, but the death of so many members of their high society at the same time had put a heavy load on the Ministry workers from all branches.
He finished the stack of papers by placing the last one on top and sighed when he looked at the other side of the table, where five more stacks were waiting for him.
"Will this ever end?..."
A soft knock was heard on his door, followed by a "Mister Potter."
Fleamont recognized the voice of his assistant. She knew better than to bother him at this moment, so it must be important.
"Yes?"
"Ehm… Madam Bones is here, sir. She insists that she must speak with you. Should I as—"
"It's fine. Let her in," Fleamont said, and the door was promptly opened.
The middle-aged redheaded woman walked past his assistant and went inside with an apologetic expression on her face.
Fleamont glanced at his young assistant and nodded. "You can leave us now."
When the door was closed, Madam Bones sat down in front of his desk. "I know you are very busy. So…"
"Everyone in the Ministry is busy these days. Including you, I presume," Fleamont spoke calmly. This visit was far from unexpected, after all.
"I thought you would take a bit longer before coming to talk to me."
"You know why I'm here?" she asked.
"Well… I know for a fact that there have been no incidents that would require my department to intervene, and surely nothing that would call for the next head of the Aurors to come in person to meet me. So this must be about my son, and what happened last week."
"Mmm, I suppose it was obvious," Amelia said. "I haven't been able to speak with Dumbledore and Lord Black. The first one because school has just started, and the other…"
"Because he is a cranky old man," Fleamont finished the sentence for her.
"So… what is your concern exactly? I'm not sure how much I will be able to help."
"Where do I even start?" Amelia sighed. "Your son has basically created a Godlike being who is supposed to oversee our world and judge our actions. Don't you have a problem with that?"
"I don't think that Ultima will meddle in day-to-day issues. She is there more to act as a panic button, in case someone else gets the idea of taking over our government. Or something like that…"
"Something like that?" Amelia glanced at him.
"That is what he said, right?" Fleamont sighed. "Look, I'm going to be honest. The things that my son can do...even I don't understand them."
"Then… aren't you uneasy about it? I don't doubt that his intentions are good, but just because you can create something… doesn't mean that you should," Amelia said.
"Worried? Not at all," Fleamont said with absolute confidence. "He is my son, and I trust him. But you don't have to take my word for it.
Dumbledore is probably the one who's closest to understanding what James is capable of, and he still seems to have complete trust in him. And Pollux… I don't know how James did it, but he managed to also earn that bitter old man's affection."
"I see…" Amelia seemed to be considering something for a minute. "Thank you for your time." She stood up from her chair.
"Has this talk been of any help at all? I would recommend you speak with the Headmaster when you both have the time," Fleamont suggested.
"Yes, I think I will do that," Amelia responded. "And yes, your words were very reassuring… I think I am willing to wait and see what happens. I wish to see if this supposed guardian that James Potter has created for us is just what he says."
After saying that, Amelia left the office, leaving Fleamont alone once more.
"Okay, now… five more stacks to go."
<><><><><><><><><><><>
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.
"Albus! How could you do this without even consulting me? He is still a child," McGonagall complained.
"A very talented one," Dumbledore pointed out.
"I don't doubt his talent. I mean, no one does. But…"
"James passed all his tests with perfect marks. I was there myself when he took them. And besides, he will only be acting as an assistant professor for this year," Dumbledore explained.
"Yes, about that… who is he assisting exactly? Because I didn't see any other professor's name in this year's roster," McGonagall declared with suspicion, wondering what else Dumbledore had been hiding.
"Of course you have!" Dumbledore had a mischievous grin on his face and a small spark in the corner of his eyes. "It's me!"
"You…" McGonagall repeated with a flat tone.
"Me," Dumbledore nodded.
"You are the Headmaster. You don't have the time to be teaching classes. At least not for the entire year."
"That's why I have an assistant."
"..." McGonagall was looking at him with suspicion. "You are going to let Mister Potter do most of the work, isn't that right?"
"I will be supervising his classes, of course. But essentially, yes."
"I'm not convinced by this, Albus. He is too young. This is not just an issue of inexperience… do you think the older students are even going to listen to him?" she asked.
"What about this…" Dumbledore proposed. "Why don't you go watch his first classes? I'll cover Transfiguration for you."
"Mmm…" McGonagall had her arms crossed.
"If you are not convinced after that, then we can think of something else," Dumbledore told her.
This seemed to ease her worries a bit. "Very well… tomorrow, I will see for myself if James Potter is prepared to actually teach others properly."