A Visit to the Headmaster's Office

Oleandra descended into the dungeons and knocked on the Potions classroom's door. A few wisps of smoke were escaping from under the door.

"Enter!" came Professor Snape's voice, so Oleandra pushed open the door and dipped inside the room, making sure to quickly close the door behind her.

The room was full of acrid smoke; had Professor Snape made some kind of mistake? The shadowy figure on the other side of the room waved its wand, and the smoke vanished from the room, revealing Professor Snape in all his oily glory, and a cauldron merrily bubbling away in front of him.

"Professor Umbridge wanted you to read this, sir," said Oleandra, holding up the scroll in question.

She walked up to his desk and offered him the roll of parchment, which he promptly seized and unsealed. His eyes repeatedly jumped from one side of the letter to the other as he read, and as he did so, a frown formed on his already unfriendly face.

"What were you thinking, Miss Greengrass?" he said, crumpling up the letter in his fist. "Were you not paying attention when Umbridge gave her speech? Are your ears merely decorations?"

"What does the letter say?" Oleandra asked curiously.

"Professor Umbridge expects me to keep a tighter leash on my students," Professor Snape answered neutrally. "And she wants to see you at her office tomorrow. Five o'clock."

Detention? Well, that was certainly annoying, wasn't it?

Oleandra didn't personally believe that the contents of her short tale had been that offensive to the ministry's delicate sensibilities, which perhaps explained why her scheduled meeting with Professor Umbridge hadn't been explicitly worded as a detention. Maybe Professor Umbridge only wanted to have tea and a quick chat, just like she'd said in class?

"You told us that Professor Umbridge was a Ministry appointee, Sir," said Oleandra. "Which means she answers to the Minister. What exactly is he trying to achieve by interfering here?"

"That is a question better left to Professor Dumbledore to answer," Professor Snape answered, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "The headmaster wanted a word with you, and since it appears that you now have some free time, I'll send word to him that you're coming. The password is Beanboozled— you may go."

Professor Dumbledore had already sent her an owl this summer, stating his desire to have a talk with her when school started again, so Oleandra wasn't especially surprised by this development.

And so, Oleandra exited the Potions classroom and left the dungeons through the Grand Staircase, all the while wondering why Dumbledore wanted to see her so badly. Her first guess was that he wanted to know if there existed a Counter-Curse to the Killing Curse—he'd be disappointed to learn there wasn't one, though. At any rate, Dumbledore was bound to tell her what he wished to ask her when she reached his office, so thankfully she wouldn't have to wait too long to satisfy her curiosity.

…

It was decidedly a much more arduous climb without Cloak's levitating properties, but after a long ascent, Oleandra had finally reached the seventh floor. She walked up to the gargoyle that guarded the path to the headmaster's office and told it the password Professor Snape had given her:

"Beanboozled."

The gargoyle stepped aside with a mocking bow, revealing yet another staircase behind it. Thankfully, this one's steps moved on their own; it was a bit like the spiral staircase's version of a Muggle escalator, so Oleandra finally got a chance to rest her weary legs as the fully automated stairs lifted her to the headmaster's office.

Oleandra stepped off the staircase and found herself in a room filled with an assortment of instruments and a variety of curious baubles, some of which moved on their own; no doubt running all sorts of long-forgotten experiments. If the aim was to impress or mystify, the room was doing its job quite well indeed. She had already come to the headmaster's office before, but she hadn't had the opportunity to get a good look the last time she visited, as she'd been too concerned with other matters.

A quick glance across the room informed Oleandra that Dumbledore already had a visitor; they were both standing on the balcony, at the back of the room. They had their backs turned to her, but from the nurse's outfit, Oleandra could tell that the visitor was Madam Pomfrey. This was rather surprising, as Madam Pomfrey usually stayed in the Hospital Wing in case of emergencies.

To think that not even a year ago, Daphne had made the climb from the ground to this dizzying height in the middle of winter…

Oleandra precariously made her way over to them, trying her best not to knock over anything important, while the portraits followed her every move with their painted eyes. She cleared her throat to get the pair's attention:

"Ahem. You wanted to see me, Sir?" Oleandra asked, eyeing Madam Pomfrey curiously.

Madam Pomfrey turned to face her, but Professor Dumbledore kept his back turned to her. Was watching the sunset really that important…? It was rather difficult to hold a conversation with someone who had their back turned.

"I cannot express how relieved I was to learn of your survival at Lord Voldemort's hands," Dumbledore said wearily. "It is a terrible thing for a student to die before her time."

Oleandra's lie detecting senses went completely mad; he was telling the truth, and yet, at the same time, he was lying. She figured that as an educator, he had to be relieved, yet at the same time, frustrated. Her revival had put a serious wrench in his plans, by ruining his credibility.

Should she have stayed dead for the greater good?

"Sir?" said Oleandra in a small voice after a long pause. "Is… is all of this business with the Ministry my fault?"

"I'm afraid the Ministry would have attempted to interfere at Hogwarts regardless of your fate," said Dumbledore softly. "Cornelius has grown rather comfortable with his job as Minister. To acknowledge Voldemort's return would imply failure on his part, and he'd rather not part with power now that he's got a taste of it… no, you should not blame yourself for this, Miss Greengrass."

Another awkward silence. He still hadn't told her why he'd wanted to meet her… and would it kill him to turn around and face her? And then, he embarked on strange tangent:

"I first met Harry Potter when he was one year old," he said, putting his hands together behind his back. "When Hagrid brought him to me, I found him to be a perfectly healthy baby boy by any definition of the word, save for a peculiar scar on his forehead, where the Killing Curse struck him."

Oh, so that was what this was about.