Chapter 58

Snape peered inside suspiciously, and then did something Milo hadn't anticipated.

To Milo's horror, Snape picked up the ladle. As he moved to dip it into the pot (presumably to investigate the potion), Milo ran through his options. Tenser's Floating Disk was not a dismissible spell; at Milo's level, it would be blocking the majority of the cauldron's opening for another five hours. Snape was sure to discover the invisible force disk, and Milo would be expelled. Then (presumably) killed horribly by Death Eaters.

"Sorry, what was that Hermione?" Milo asked loudly, improvising wildly. "You require help tying your shoes because your arm was grievously injured while Snape was supposed to be protecting you from a Troll? Why, of course I can help you!" Technically, no lies. Milo bolted towards Hermione as fast as he could run.

Milo collapsed at Hermione's feet and started fumbling with her laces.

"What on Earth are you—" she asked, surprised.

"Tenser's Floating Disk disappears if you move out of the spell's range," Milo explained quietly. "I need to get another ten feet away from the cauldron before Snape realizes what's going on." Hermione's back was to the door; ten feet would put Milo well into the hallway.

"Your rat," Hermione whispered. "Ask him to run out, and chase him."

"Good plan. Mordy?"

"Don't need to tell me twice, boss," Milo's familiar squeaked. Mordy leapt out of Milo's belt and made a mad dash for the exit.

Snape dipped the ladle into the cauldron, and Milo heard a quiet thud as the steel instrument hit his force bowl.

Snape blinked.

"What—" he began.

"Mordenkainen!" Milo shouted, and pursued. Shortly after he reached the exit, he heard a muffled splash from the cauldron as the Tenser's Floating Disk winked out of existence.

"Here, now!" Fudge said. "We can't just have him leave."

There was a brief pause.

"Everyone duck for cover!" someone shouted. Evidentially, they had taken Milo's flight to mean that the potion was about to explode.

"Accio Milo," one of the Aurors muttered, and Milo felt a strange tug in the region of his stomach. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled to the centre of the room by invisible hands. It was a weird feeling.

"You'll have to look for your rat later, Milo," Bode said in his dry monotone. "We can't allow you to leave until the inquiries are closed."

"Right, of course," Milo said. Careful not to lie, he reminded himself. "I'm only eleven; eleven year olds are notoriously flighty."

"Don't need to tell me twice," McGonagall muttered.

Snape, who had evidently been distracted by Milo's unexpected flight, began to test the potion again. As soon as his ladle entered the cauldron, Milo had a burst of mad inspiration.

"I think I've more than proved that I'm a legitimate Mage, Hand me that quill, Headmaster, would you?"

"Sorry, what was that?" Fudge asked. Milo concentrated on the Mage Hand spell (a handy (sorry), weak telekinesis), and, targeting the water in the cauldron (Mage Hand can't target held objects, such as Snape's ladle) Milo created a small current which forced the ladle to move in a very tiny counterclockwise circle.

Snape frowned. He wasn't sure if it was a trick of his eye, but he could have sworn that the purple potion became slightly darker as he stared at it.

"I was just asking the Headmaster to hand me the quill on his desk," Milo said. "But on second thought, I realize, I don't need it. How's the potion check out, Professor Snape?"

"I think your student might be a bit funny," Fudge said not quite quietly enough to Dumbledore. "A tad... off in the head, if you catch my meaning."

"I am quite sorry," Dumbledore said apologetically. "I didn't bring my fishing rod! I had no idea we were going out to catch meanings on this fine evening. Why, once, when I was a boy, my brother and I caught a meaning that weighed—"

McGonagall coughed again.

"—but perhaps that story is best told later," Dumbledore said.

Fudge sighed and muttered something under his breath. Milo wasn't sure, but he thought he caught the words 'surrounded by nutters' somewhere in there.

Snape carefully extracted a small amount of the potion with his ladle and stared at it in astonishment.

"Well?" the Minister pressed. "What's the verdict, Severus?"

Snape stared at the contents of the cauldron, his face livid with barely contained rage.

"You." He said, turning to Milo. His voice was like a Polar Ray with a confirmed critical. "If I ever find out how you did this, boy, you'll rue the day your mother first laid eyes on your fath—"

"Severus," Dumbledore said reproachfully. Snape reined himself in with obvious effort.

"I have the... unequaled pleasure—" Snape said through clenched teeth, but Milo was pretty sure he meant the other thing, "—to say that this potion is, against all odds and reason... adequate."

McGonagall looked relieved, Bode appeared somewhat disappointed (Milo was willing to bet Bode hoped he'd discovered some form of new and exotic humanoid monster in Milo), while Dumbledore (and only Dumbledore) started clapping. Hermione stood in the corner beaming at him. Best of all, he earned 800 XP. That alone will cover months of item crafting, Milo thought.

"Ruddy waste of time, this was," Fudge complained to Umbridge as the Ministry officials filed out. "Wonder why he insisted it be done so late at night—and on a weekend, too?"

"Minerva," Dumbledore asked politely, "would you please take Miss Granger back to the hospital wing?"

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