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In this case though, the charms were looking hardly necessary. A large majority of the persons present were angry enough to make smoke coming out of their ears. Of course, the reason for this rage was in part standing in front of them. It was an ungodly hour to stand in the cold, and magic or not the regular forces of the Auror Corps enjoyed sleeping in a warm bed as much as the common wizard.
"...and so I'm afraid my boy, that I can't allow authorise you to search Hogwarts without the benediction of Minister Fudge and the signatures of the Board of Governors." Headmaster Dumbledore emitted one of his mysterious half-smiles over his glasses. "The incident has taken place outside the grounds the Charter recognises as belonging to Hogwarts, and the rules are clear on this point-"
The patience of one of the half-dozen Aurors in red robes listening this condescending speech finally arrived at its end. The wizard, a brown-haired man in his thirties wearing a neat beard and mild black eyes, screamed in his haste to release himself of the words he erupted.
"The rules? The rules! Someone used over ten of the Darkest Curses below the Unforgivables to slaughter an animal in front of your door and you're concerned about some rules?"
"That's enough Williamson!" Barked the Auror leading the formation.
"But-"
"I said enough!" Repeated the leader of the Auror platoon, Senior Auror Lester Hudson, sending the nastiest dark look he could at his undisciplined subordinate. "You have done sufficient damage here. Report to the Ministry at once, you're on paperwork duty until the end of the week!"
Auror Williamson didn't protest anymore, recognising the wordless threat conveyed by the glare of his superior, and left the gate house in all haste to reach the limit of the grounds where Apparition became possible.
"Good choice, my boy-"
"My name is Senior Auror Lester Hudson, Chief Warlock." Growled the platoon leader of the Aurors, a black-haired man with brown eyes. "Not my boy or anyone of your little names."
"I'm sure-"
"I don't know what game you're playing, here Chief Warlock Dumbledore." Hudson's tone was angry, but unlike Williamson there remained a veneer of civility, thanks to decades having escorted Wizengamot and diverse politicians to one conference or another. "All my Aurors know of the special status of Hogwarts, and you perfectly know we have no intention to impose any kind of Ministry authority over the school. We are here to catch a criminal. And you are doing your best to hinder us."
"I'm sorry you feel that way." Had it been any other situation, the half-dozen persons listening this would have shed tears at the incredibly remorseful tone the Supreme Mugwump. But the Aurors were not trained and screened harshly to be caught by the first flimsiest excuse sent to block their way. And the silver-haired man before them was obviously lying with the virtuosity of a maestro.
"Oh no, you aren't." The expression of Lester Hudson turned into a smile, but his blue eyes remained cold and grim. "In your place, I would ensure there are no more accidents or incidents for the rest of the year near Hogwarts."
"Is this a threat?" The tone of the Hogwarts Headmaster was mild and unconcerned. A spike of anger flared in the chest of the Senior Auror, before reminding himself of the status and the influence of his interlocutor. Whether he liked it or not, the wizard at the head of the largest school of Magical Britain was one if not the most influential man of the British Isles. Antagonising him would not grant him a letter of congratulations from London. In all likelihood it would in fact freeze his career advancements for the next decade.
"No. It's an advice." Choose to reply the Head Auror instead, as calmly as he could. "Should a similar crime be reported inside Hogwarts, the DMLE will have no choice but to intervene. My intention was to prevent such a situation from happening in the first place."
"I will take your words into consideration, my boy." Told Dumbledore in his grandfather, wise wizard-tone. An attitude which made frown half of the Aurors on site. It was limpid Dumbledore had all but voiced he was going to do the exact opposite. "But it is rather late! I will continue this conversation with Amelia and the Minister tomorrow. I wish you the best for the rest of your investigation."
And on this the Defeater of Grindelwald vanished with his phoenix in a column of flames, leaving the Aurors alone in the gatehouse.
"Well," Said an Auror behind Lester Hudson. "He's as cooperative as he was twenty years ago when I was in Slytherin."
Five of the witches and wizards representing the DMLE on this dark night of January emitted guffaws and small chuckles before leaving the gatehouse to return to their headquarters.
6 January 1993, Hogwarts, Scotland
Marcus Flint was not a happy Slytherin. No, Marcus Flint was not a happy Slytherin at all in this beginning of the year 1993 as he left the History classroom and the boring, monotonous voice of Professor Binns followed by the rest of the few sixth-years having taken the course. Marching with a steady, implacable rhythm on the third floor, the scion of House Flint, as distant and complicated his position from the Lordship was - eleventh in the succession for those in the know - harboured a stone-face expression. And he had excellent reasons for his bad mood.
Four months ago, the sixth-year had been extremely optimistic. Marcus had managed to pass six OWLS in June at his exams. At his second try but still. Charms, Potions, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Except Potions, all achieved with grades allowing him to continue to the NEWTS classes. In spite of the loss of the Cup at the hands of the Ravenclaw team, Professor Snape had maintained him his confidence and kept him at the post of Captain. Marcus was gaining more and more influence in the ranks of Slytherin House, always a good thing to create his own information network and support future career prospects.
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