Hacker turned to Henry with a smile.
"So you see, my very first impression of the wizarding world was a lady who could transmute teacups and a Mongolian gerbil that left its mark on my cabinet documents."
He paused. "A Mongolian gerbil," he added, for emphasis.
Sir Humphrey smoothly continued the account: "The follow-up communication after that initial meeting proceeded very satisfactorily. Madam Bagnold explained the basic framework of the International Statute of Secrecy to us in detail and gave assurances that the Ministry of Magic would not interfere in Muggle affairs. In exchange, naturally, we were not to publicly acknowledge the existence of the wizarding world. A perfectly workable arrangement for all parties."
"Until last year," Hacker said, shaking his head slightly.
"Last year?" Henry asked.
Hacker sighed and looked at Sir Humphrey. "Humphrey, perhaps you could explain."
Sir Humphrey cleared his throat. "Your Highness, in 1990 there was a change of Minister for Magic. Mr. Cornelius Fudge succeeded Madam Bagnold. As is customary, a new Minister is expected to visit the Prime Minister to reaffirm the confidentiality arrangement. On that occasion—"
"On that occasion," Hacker said, "I was notified in advance. To be precise, by the figure in a rather grubby little oil painting in the corner of my study. I was reviewing a document on coal mine subsidies when the painting spoke to me. I am not entirely sure, even now, which of those two events was more alarming."
"Mr. Fudge had apparently asked the portrait to inform you in advance," Bernard supplied quietly from behind, "that he would be making a formal visit that evening at eight o'clock via the Floo Network. The portrait also instructed you to clear the fireplace and ensure nothing was left in the grate."
"Yes, clear the fireplace." Hacker nodded and turned to Henry. "So I had Bernard remove the grill and tidy everything out. At eight o'clock precisely, Mr. Fudge came through the green fire. He managed not to step in any soot, which I thought showed admirable competence under the circumstances."
"Mr. Fudge," Sir Humphrey continued, "had been in office for just over a year at that point. From the perspective of Muggle-wizarding relations, his working style differed somewhat from his predecessor's."
Hacker gave a short laugh. "Humphrey, let's be honest. He talks a great deal and takes considerable time reaching any particular point."
"Last year," Bernard said, "after Mr. Fudge emerged from the fireplace, he spent the first four minutes explaining the principles of the Floo Network to the Prime Minister. This included, but was not limited to: how to ignite Floo Powder, how to enunciate the destination clearly, and what might happen if a place name were mispronounced. His illustrative example was: 'If someone intends to travel to Nottingham but pronounces it as Norfolk, they may find themselves on a fishing vessel in the middle of the North Sea.'"
"He mentioned the fishing boat twice," Hacker said, without expression. "On two separate occasions."
Henry found this difficult to keep a straight face about. "So he tends toward extensive explanation?"
"Your Highness," Hacker said, raising an eyebrow, "do you know how long the longest conversation I have ever had with the President of the United States lasted? Thirty-five minutes. Mr. Fudge's visit lasted one hour and twenty minutes, and I would estimate that at least one of those hours consisted of him talking without interruption."
"The subject matter was also notably varied," Sir Humphrey added. "It ranged from the latest models of flying broomstick to preparations for an upcoming international Quidditch competition, to his concerns about increasing student enrolment at Hogwarts. He also brought a bag of magical confectionery as a gift."
"Ah," Hacker said. "Humphrey, do you remember those sweets?"
"Very clearly, Prime Minister," Sir Humphrey said, with a smile that carried a distinct private meaning.
"He brought a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," Hacker said, turning to Henry. "Those small sweets, one unpredictable flavour per bean. He said it was the most accessible way for a Muggle Prime Minister to experience the wizarding world directly, and then suggested I try one."
Henry kept his expression neutral. "Did you?"
"I felt it would be diplomatically discourteous to refuse. So I closed my eyes and selected one at random." Hacker paused. "Can you guess what flavour it was?"
"Strawberry?"
"Earwax." Hacker delivered this without any change of expression whatsoever. "I ate an earwax-flavoured sweet. Mr. Fudge laughed and told me I was unlucky, as it was quite a rare flavour."
"Since that evening," Bernard said quietly, "the Prime Minister has not accepted magical confectionery of any description."
"Bernard is entirely correct," Hacker confirmed. "I now avoid anything in multiple colours."
Sir Humphrey gave a discreet cough and steered the conversation back. "From the standpoint of administrative communication, Mr. Fudge's approach does differ from Madam Bagnold's. During her tenure, the then-Cabinet Secretary, Sir Arnold Robinson, established a regular information exchange arrangement with the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry sent a briefing by owl post each month, covering major events with the potential to affect the Muggle world, magical creature incidents, large-scale accidents of that nature. The briefings were concise, appropriately detailed, and practically useful."
"And now?" Henry asked.
"Now," Hacker said, "he simply appears at Downing Street without prior notice when he personally decides contact is required. Since he took office, the regular channel has lapsed entirely. The last occasion he came to Downing Street was to inform us of your enrolment at Hogwarts, which required a considerable number of urgent internal consultations on our side."
"Indeed," Sir Humphrey continued. "We were of the view that Your Highness's position warranted a security detail accompanying you into Diagon Alley. Mr. Fudge was firmly of the opinion that the fewer people with knowledge of the wizarding world's existence, the better. He therefore recommended the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, described as the most powerful wizard alive, to accompany you."
"We also consulted Her Majesty on this matter," Hacker said, inclining his head toward Elizabeth.
Elizabeth set down her cup. "Around 1980, during the tenure of my predecessor, Mr. Herbert Atwell, a significant conflict broke out in the wizarding world. One faction called themselves the Death Eaters, and their leader was a dark wizard who styled himself Voldemort."
At this, Henry noticed Hacker's lips move very slightly, and he exchanged a brief look with Sir Humphrey that was gone almost before it registered.
"Under the leadership of Headmaster Dumbledore, the conflict ultimately ended in the Death Eaters' defeat," Elizabeth continued, with the calm of someone recounting settled history. "From what I understand, this particular dark wizard was so feared that many in the wizarding world would not speak his name aloud, and yet he was unwilling to confront Headmaster Dumbledore directly. He feared him."
Hacker picked up his teacup, took a sip, and set it back down.
His gaze moved between Elizabeth and Henry, working through the implications of what had just been said with the visible deliberateness of a politician calibrating his response.
Sir Humphrey and Bernard, by contrast, wore the quiet, settled smiles of men who had already done their calibrating some time ago.
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Early chapters: p*treon.com/palevolt100