Harry Potter and the Hall of Justice

Chapter 5 The Selection


Professor Minerva McGonagall had been sitting uneasily in front of Professor Dumbledore’s desk for hours. It was getting late and she would soon have to begin her trek down to greet the incoming first year students. “Albus Dumbledore,” she said under her breath, “where on earth are you. I can’t wait another minute. I just can’t.”

Just as suddenly as the last word departed her lips, the old wizard appeared in a green flash of light to the left of his desk. Even though McGonagall had experienced the phenomenon many times over the years, the unexpectedness of the moment always sent a jolt of electricity through her every limb and gave her heart palpitations. She reached up to the brooch at her neck and closed her eyes while concentrating on taking a breath of air.

“Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said quietly and with great care, aware of her current condition, “I apologize for my tardiness. It just simply could not be helped, you see?”

“Yes, certainly, Professor,” she said, calming herself and consciously steadying the rhythm of her respiration while patting lightly at her upper chest. “I was getting worried, as you can imagine. The students are beginning to arrive, and we will soon be needed to greet them.”

“Of course, of course,” he said, looking down into the face of not only a fellow instructor and his deputy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but, even more so, into the face of a very dear old friend and trusted ally. The old man spoke comfortingly in a low, soothing voice. “Again, I apologize, but it simply could not be helped. The final debate and vote at the Ministry took much, much longer than anyone would have anticipated. Finally, though, it was done and I hurried back here as quickly as any old wizard could travel.” He smiled a comforting, calming smile and reached out his hand to help her rise from the chair and steady her shaking frame.

“It has been decided then?” Professor McGonagall quietly asked, as she rose from the chair and tested her legs.

“Yes, Minerva,” he replied, speaking slowly and distinctly, “it has been decided. Of course, the ultimate decision will be that of the nominee. If and when that bridge is crossed, we may once again have a seated Lord Chief Justice.” The old witch and wizard began walking toward his office door.

“And the candidate? Who is it to be and why so long with the final vote?” McGonagall asked with marked anticipation.

“There is much to tell Minerva. But come, let us not keep our young wizards and witches waiting any longer,” Professor Dumbledore said, as they departed his office. “I must say, there was much resistance and disagreement between the ministers from the outset. And just as you and I had suspected, there were some, including the Minister of Magic himself, who desired to abolish the post altogether.” Dumbledore paused, lowering his voice to little more than a whisper, “But justice and truth have prevailed.” He smiled confidently down into Professor McGonagall’s face and winked.

Professor McGonagall knew her old headmaster and friend, one of the most respected Grand Sorcerers ever to take wand in hand, probably single-handedly tilted the balance in favor of the nominee using his much-revered powers of persuasion.

“If he accepts the post, our new Lord Chief Justice will come to us from across the pond,” Dumbledore continued.

“An American?” she almost screamed out, moving her head forward so as to look up into Dumbledore’s face, not in the least attempting to hide the shock of such an absurdity.

“Yes, Minerva, an American and a very fine choice, too. I personally believe he might very well be the best Justice candidate in centuries,” he replied, tapping her shoulder with his open hand in a comforting way. “Of course, the question remains, will he accept the post?”

“I had no idea it would be an American!” she exclaimed. “And what of him? He must be uniquely qualified for the task?”

“Yes, yes, exceptionally so,” Professor Dumbledore said, his voice little above a whisper. “He is fifty years of age, with no judicial experience. He did spend over twenty-five years in law enforcement at their federal level - - - in their immigration department, I believe they call it. Very respected, he is. A decent man, never married, no living relatives, mostly self-educated, a plethora of hobbies and abilities but, above all, he made hard decisions throughout his career which were never overruled and he always followed the rule of law in a very fair and deliberate manner. Of course, he also was the only nominee to pass through our sieve having met all of the initial prerequisites. I must say again, I am very pleased with him.”

“And of course, he is under protection?” she asked, a worried look upon her face.

“Yes, yes, of course. At each step of the process the security detail was increased around each candidate being considered. By now, however, he should be in transit to the Hall of Justice. Therefore, right after our meal, I must take my leave. The Ministry has asked me to conduct the interview and tender our offer to him. I am very honored to do so,” Professor Dumbledore admitted.

“There will be much to do, if he accepts the position,” Professor McGonagall stated in an obvious matter of fact way.

“Yes, much. There will also be the matter of choosing the right legal assistants and staff for him, as well as the other more delicate positions. It will be a great career opportunity for some of our brightest young wizards and witches who do not yet have life commitments. Yes,” he continued, “a busy but very exciting time it will likely be.”

“Need I ask if you have given his staffing requirements any thought?” she inquired.

“No, you need not ask,” the professor smiled. “I already have a student in mind for the posting of Executive Assistant to His Lordship. I am confident, too, you will agree with my decision.”

Professor McGonagall stopped. Professor Dumbledore did likewise and raised his right hand to stroke at his long, white beard.

“Hermione Granger.” Professor McGonagall stated flatly, looking up into the old wizard’s tired face.

“Indeed, indeed,” Dumbledore replied. “Hermione Granger. She is the brightest and most inquisitive student we’ve seen these many years. She works tirelessly and doggedly. And, at seventeen, she is mature enough to take on the other, unmentionable duties she will be required to perform. But, of course, her selection, ultimately, would be the decision of His Lordship. I’m sure other schools will submit their nominations, too.”

“Yes, I’m sure the competition will be stiff. I do envy those chosen, nonetheless. A great responsibility they will have but their sacrifices will be an absolute must if we are to stop the proliferation of the dark arts,” Professor McGonagall reasoned aloud.

The old wizard nodded his head in agreement. “Again, I agree, old friend. And many great tasks and dangerous times lie before us, I’m afraid. If we have chosen the right man for the job, he will see the challenge for what it is and, I hope, will be ready and willing to rise up to meet it. I have great faith he will, even though he has not yet accepted the job,” Professor Dumbledore grinned.

Professor McGonagall noticed the reappearance of a light and spark in her old friend’s eyes absent for so many years, and in spite of how tired his old face looked to be. He seemed to walk with renewed energy, too. This pleased her greatly as the years and years spent fighting the rise of Voldemort, not to mention the Ministry of Magic failing to deal with his Death Eaters, had caused great distress to the old professor and aged him beyond his years. “Yes,” she thought to herself, “you are always ready to be tested, aren’t you, my old colleague. You thrive on great challenges; you most certainly do.”

“If our nominee accepts the position, I will have to call upon you to assist me with a number of things. Also, if and when Hermione needs to be spoken to, I would appreciate it greatly if you would talk to her initially. It would be better if you explained the, well, rather delicate details to her,” he related.

“Of course. I appreciate the forewarning and, yes, I would need time to decide how to explain everything to her,” Professor McGonagall acknowledged.

“Even more so, you and I both know how extremely important it will be to select the right members to be in the Justice’s Department of Special Investigations,” the old wizard stated, as they began walking once again. “It will be a very delicate matter, indeed. However, I trust I will have some influence with His Lordship.”

Professor McGonagall nodded her head, affirming her agreement with everything Dumbledore was saying. “And your recommendations would be?” she asked.

“It’s my intention, at the present time, and if the opportunity arises, to recommend Sirius Black* and Remus Lupin to head the investigative teams,” Professor Dumbledore stated, arching his eyebrows and looking at McGonagall.

The old witch nearly let out a scream. “You can’t be serious, Albus! You know the Ministry would challenge their appointments straightaway, and that’s putting it mildly,” she exclaimed, her voice breaking above the level of a whisper and even giving herself a start. Professor McGonagall quickly turned around and scrutinized the area behind them and along the hallway, displaying her fear of having been overheard.

“Ah, but remember, His Lordship can appoint or remove any wizard or witch at his discretion. He has the absolute authority to pardon and exonerate. His decisions in such matters are final. The Ministry might object, and they would fully be in their right to appeal or ask for a reconsideration of fact, however, his decision would be absolute and irrevocable,” Professor Dumbledore concluded.

“And are there other considerations or recommendations?” She nervously asked, almost in fear of what other surprises her old friend might come up with next.

“Yes,” the old professor replied. “Although not straightaway, our young Mister Potter, of course, will have a pivotal role to play when we target Voldemort directly. If the Lord Chief Justice accepts my other recommendations, I will immediately inform him of what we have in store for Harry. And if he agrees, I will quickly begin advanced training of him and others. Just today, in fact, I sent a note to Oliver Wood. I realize, of course, he has turned Quidditch professional, but I absolutely insist he be a part of our first team who receives the advanced training.”

“And the Ministry, Albus?” McGonagall asked. “What will they do when they ascertain the nature of your advanced training? Surely you expect resistance to the teaching of the most violent forms of the dark arts to such young wizards and witches, do you not?”

“Everything we do must be done in the most secretive manner. We must train and work in absolute secrecy for as long as it is possible to do so. But, yes, when our training becomes public knowledge, there will most certainly be much moaning and cackling, to be sure,” he said, smiling to himself as he envisioned the panic such news would trigger. “Nevertheless, our youngsters will not stand any chance against the dark lords unless they are proficient in fighting fire with fire.”

The old professor hesitated and slowly came to a stop. Professor McGonagall turned to face him. “Minerva,” he whispered. “After long and careful consideration, sitting before my hearth on countless sleepless nights, I have decided to share my knowledge of Merlin’s Black Ledger with Harry.”

“Professor!” the old witch gasped out breathlessly. “You can’t be serious! Surely there must be another way?”

“No, Minerva, I am deadly serious,” he continued in a whisper. “I am fully aware of the ramifications, but I am confident Harry’s experiences have tempered and hardened him like the fine steel of Godric Gryffindor’s sword. He will be able handle the awesome power of that knowledge, I am certain.”

“Then it will be death, Albus? Is that our only option? Do we have no other choice?” Professor McGonagall asked, almost begging for a reply different from what she knew, in her heart, was forthcoming.

“Yes, old friend,” he said, hesitating like he didn’t want to say the words. “It will mean death.”

In the distance, they could hear the murmur of first year students speaking in excited but hushed voices.

“Now, alas, it is time.” Professor Dumbledore said, as he turned right to take a hall leading to the head of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall walked to the stairway directly in front of her where the young, mostly eleven year old, first year students had gathered.

Professor Minerva McGonagall approached the stairway, her dark, emerald-green robe catching the air and floating along behind her. “Quiet, quiet!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together and hesitating for effect. “Welcome to Hogwarts. In just a few moments you will pass through these doors to attend the start-of-term banquet. But before you are seated in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into one of four houses…” - - - and so began another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


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Author’s note: Yes indeed, Sirius lives. His sojourn behind the vale wasn’t permanent, as they had once thought. That, however, is another story.