Chapter 54: Chapter 54: Hard Truths

Arthur stumbled out of the fireplace in Madam Pomfrey’s office, brushing soot from his robes. The Floo journey back from St. Mungo’s had been particularly uncomfortable after the extensive post-ritual tests and examinations. Everything was technically fine—if one considered being unable to use magic “fine.”

“Steady now, Mr. Hayes,” Madam Pomfrey said firmly, emerging from the green flames behind him. “The healed body might require some getting used to. Any dizziness or discomfort?”

“I’m feeling perfectly fine, Madam Pomfrey,” Arthur replied. “Better than ever.”

Madam Pomfrey fixed him with a stern look. “I hope so and I also hope you understood the severity of what you experienced. The Healers told me your survival was nothing short of miraculous.”

“So I’ve been informed. Repeatedly.”

“This is not a joking matter,” she said sharply. “Whatever adventure you undertook nearly killed you. I expect you to show better judgment in the future. No more mysterious adventures or dangerous experiments with unknown magics. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Arthur replied, just wanting the lecture to end.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, clearly unconvinced by his halfhearted agreement. “The Headmaster wishes to see you immediately,” she informed him, her tone suggesting this wasn’t a casual invitation. “He was most insistent.”

“Brilliant,” Arthur muttered. “Just what I need after a spectacularly eventful week. Interrogations.”

“The password is ’Fizzing Whizbee,’” she added, ignoring his complaint. “Do try not to antagonize him. His position requires him to know why a Hogwarts student disappeared and came back in the condition you came back in.”

Arthur made his way to the Headmaster’s office with reluctant steps. The gargoyle leapt aside at the password, and the spiral staircase carried him upward to a door that swung open before he could knock.

Dumbledore’s office looked as it always did—silver instruments whirring softly on spindly tables, Fawkes preening on his golden perch, and ancient books lining the walls. The Headmaster himself stood by the window, while the Sorting Hat sat on its shelf, looking as smug as a piece of tattered fabric could manage.

“Good afternoon, Hat,” Arthur said pointedly, nodding to the ancient artifact before turning to Dumbledore. “Headmaster.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “Is the Sorting Hat more important than the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Mr. Hayes?”

“He was the one I sorely missed in the Second Task, Headmaster,” Arthur replied with deliberate casualness. “Also, I respect it more.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Dumbledore moved to his desk, his expression carefully controlled.

“And what have I done to earn such disrespect?” he asked quietly.

Arthur sighed, taking the seat across from Dumbledore without being invited. “Should we go down this rabbit hole, Headmaster? In my position as an isolated pariah in this castle with nothing much to do, I’ve developed quite the talent for observation. And my observations haven’t exactly enhanced my regard for you.”

“I have always valued honest feedback,” Dumbledore said, steepling his long fingers. “Humor me.”

“Alright.” Arthur settled more comfortably in his chair. “Let’s have this final conversation, since I doubt we’ll have an opportunity to speak so candidly again—what with me leaving the wizarding world and you being…” he gestured vaguely, “…well, not getting any younger.”

“You make things sound rather ominous, Mr. Hayes,” Dumbledore remarked. “I assure you I have many years ahead of me yet.”

“I’m just being realistic.” Arthur leaned forward. “Let’s start with the fundamentals, shall we? The treatment of Muggle-borns in the British wizarding world is appalling. You can’t possibly deny that fact, right? You’re supposedly a great Light wizard with positions of tremendous influence, yet you’ve done nothing substantive to improve their situation.”

Dumbledore opened his mouth to object, but Arthur raised a hand.

“Perhaps you have perfectly reasonable excuses—you couldn’t single-handedly reform Ministry laws, despite being Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump. But surely after defeating Grindelwald, or following Voldemort’s defeat, you possessed the political capital to enact meaningful change. You chose not to.” His eyes narrowed. “But even accepting that limitation, what about Hogwarts, where your word as the Headmaster is law? You could stop the bullying of Muggle-borns. You could ban derogatory terms like ’Mudblood’ with a single decree. But you don’t. You allow it to continue.”

“We cannot police every word spoken within these walls—” Dumbledore began.

“You don’t even try,” Arthur interrupted. “Bullying is rampant throughout this school, and professors turn a blind eye. When Harry Potter himself, the Boy Who Lived, can be openly tormented by a significant portion of the student body, something is really wrong with the school discipline. With magic, bullying can reach dangerous levels—something you must know from the reports of victims in the hospital wing. Just because magic can heal physical injuries easily doesn’t make it a small matter.”

The Sorting Hat shifted on its shelf, as if uncomfortable with the conversation’s direction.

“You might have justifications for that failing as well,” Arthur continued relentlessly. “So let’s discuss your staff appointments, shall we? Professor Snape, while undeniably knowledgeable about potions, is a terrible teacher. More than half of the school hates him, and he openly despises them in return—reason enough for dismissal at any reasonable institution. Just because he was your spy in the last war and you might need him again, you cannot force him on the students. There are lasting consequences of this. Just check the number of new healers and aurors taking up posts after he started teaching Potions.”

Dumbledore looked a little guilty.

“I’ll spare us both the discussion of Binns and Trelawney,” Arthur pressed on. “But the Defense position? In so many years, you’ve not managed to solve that curse? You’re widely acknowledged as one of the most powerful wizards alive, Headmaster, but you’re not infallible. There’s no shame in requesting assistance from curse-breaking specialists, even if it means granting outsiders limited access to Hogwarts. I’m sure no one can really play games under your close watch. The current situation suggests preparing students for their futures simply isn’t your priority.”

The Sorting Hat unexpectedly chimed in, “He makes valid points, Albus. Seeking help has never diminished greatness or makes you look weak.”

Dumbledore shot the Hat a look of mild betrayal before returning his attention to Arthur. “Is there more to this comprehensive critique?”

“Actually, yes,” Arthur replied. “Not concerning the school or wizarding world as a whole, but I have noticed some things about a certain Boy Who Lived and the events surrounding him. Would you prefer I continue, or have we reached the limits of your tolerance for ’honest feedback’?”

Dumbledore’s expression grew solemn, but he made no move to end the conversation.

Taking this as tacit permission, Arthur continued. “Let’s begin from the start again. Everyone knows you arranged his care after his parents died. Yet from first sight, anyone could tell he was neglected, if not abused by his caretakers. The supposed savior of the wizarding world didn’t even have decent clothes that fit him. Hardly the golden childhood depicted in those ’Adventures of Harry Potter’ books.”

“He might not have had a good life. At least he is safe. The place where he is at gives him the best protections from those who wish to harm him.” Dumbledore replied, his voice carefully measured.

“It’s hard to believe that there were no other possible options.” Arthur countered. “However, you don’t need to explain to me. I am a nobody. Just be ready to explain to his parents in the afterlife.”

A heavy silence descended upon the office, broken only by the soft whirring of silver instruments.

“Since we’re being brutally honest,” Arthur continued after a moment, “shall we discuss the series of tests you have planned for Harry over the past several years?”

“What tests?” Dumbledore’s expression remained neutral, though his eyes had lost their characteristic twinkle.

“Please, Headmaster. So hiding the Philosopher’s Stone in the castle and the obstacle course was not a test? That you did not use the stone to attract whoever was possessing Professor Quirrell to the school? Then second year, you had no idea there was a basilisk roaming around in the castle, much less the dark artifact possessing young Miss Weasley? Were you deliberately clueless, or has age finally gotten to you?”

“You claim knowledge of all these events, yet took no action?” Dumbledore challenged, a hint of steel entering his voice.

“Not my responsibility,” Arthur replied with indifference. “Your inaction made it abundantly clear these situations were developing according to your design. I saw no reason to interfere with your grand scheme, particularly when doing so would only bring unwanted attention to myself. Self-preservation is my primary motivation after all.”

“I see.” Dumbledore’s tone conveyed deep disappointment.

“I doubt that very much,” Arthur responded. “Moving on to his third year. While Sirius Black’s escape might have disrupted your original plans, the subsequent developments raise further questions. You couldn’t prevent the Ministry from surrounding a school of children with soul-devouring Dementors? A unified front of outraged parents, regardless of their political alignments, could have forced Fudge to reconsider. Then there’s the time-turner adventure and Black’s dramatic rescue. You couldn’t have arranged a proper trial for an innocent man? The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot surely possesses such authority.”

“How can you know all this?” Dumbledore demanded.

“You know, nothing to do and all. When I feel bored, I just grab some snacks and secretly follow the golden trio on their adventures. It’s so much fun. Like watching a movie.”

The Sorting Hat chuckled. “I’m sure it was exciting. Next time take me along, will you?”

“Now there’s a thought,” Arthur agreed. “Though I suspect this year’s finale will be the last performance I can watch. Speaking of which—Headmaster, do you really want Voldemort to be resurrected?”

“What?” Dumbledore looked startled.

“So you don’t know Professor Moody is an impostor” Arthur pressed. “And his task is to kidnap Harry and use some ritual to resurrect his master?”

Dumbledore’s composure faltered visibly, shock flashing across his face before he could mask it. “How could you possibly know—”

“Ah.” Arthur nodded slowly. “So you are aware. Poor Harry. Whole life being played around by someone he trusts above all others.”

Dumbledore sighed deeply, suddenly looking every one of his considerable years. “I have my reasons for these difficult decisions. Voldemort will inevitably return whether I wish it or not. I would prefer that return occur while I remain able to guide Harry through what must follow. There are forces at work beyond your understanding, Mr. Hayes.”

“Your justifications don’t particularly interest me,” Arthur replied with a dismissive wave. “These are my final days in the wizarding world. After the Tournament concludes, I’ll be gone. I simply hope your elaborate schemes ultimately succeed and Harry emerges from them reasonably intact, both physically and mentally. May I go now?”

“No.” Dumbledore’s tone hardened. “You were summoned here for a specific purpose before you rather skillfully diverted our conversation.”

Arthur sighed. His saying all this was to make Dumbledore forget about interrogating him. Maybe there was also the fact about indulging in a bit of long-restrained ranting, but the former was the main goal.

“Ah yes—my injuries,” Arthur shrugged. “I had an unfortunate incident with powerful magic. But as you can see, I’ve made a complete recovery.”

“I require considerably more detail than that,” Dumbledore insisted. “Specifically what occurred and where exactly you disappeared to for three days.”

Arthur considered his options briefly. “I propose an exchange. If you tell me details why you have planned all these things around Harry, I will tell you about my adventure. I promise both are on the same level. Otherwise, just as you maintain your secrets, I’ll retain mine. We can both happily continue with our lives.”

Arthur was happy he was still a Triwizard CHampion. It meant Dumbledore could not force him in any way without consequences.

“Things are not so simple,” Dumbledore said. “I am aware of your ambitions in the Muggle world, but when you venture outside the wizarding world, there are some rules you must follow.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re referring to the Covenant?”

“You know of it?” Surprise colored Dumbledore’s voice.

“It was mentioned by someone, but I know little about it. There’s nothing in the Hogwarts library.”

Dumbledore sighed, reaching for a slim volume bound in blue leather. “The Covenant was established after the chaos of Grindelwald’s war. The Statute of Secrecy was compromised, and Muggles with their advanced technology gained ways of monitoring that we could not fully counteract with memory charms. This created a dangerous situation.”

“What happened?” Arthur asked, with genuine curiosity, to learn the magical side of things. Fury had told him the muggle’s perspective.

“Some Muggles began experimenting, trying to gain magic for themselves,” Dumbledore continued. “This nearly led to open war. The ICW chose restraint initially, allowing Muggle authorities time to address these violations internally. But then came the ’Obscurials Incident.’”

“Obscurials? How many?”

Dumbledore replied “Too many. The incident united the wizarding communities worldwide like never before. For perhaps the only time in our fragmented history, magical governments stood united, prepared for war if strict measures weren’t implemented immediately.”

“And the Muggles backed down?”

“They had little choice. Their weapons might destroy cities, but they had no effective defense against wizards who could strike anywhere and disappear instantly. After intense negotiations, the Covenant was established.”

“Heavily favoring wizarding interests, I’d imagine,” Arthur observed.

“Naturally. We presented a united front while they remained divided by their own internal conflicts.” Dumbledore took the blue book, tapped it with his wand to create a duplicate, and handed the copy to Arthur. “The full terms are here, but in essence, Muggles agreed to maintain the Statute of Secrecy and actively assist in concealing our existence, refrain from recruiting wizards and training them to fight against us, avoid any involvement in wizarding affairs, and most critically, cease all experimentation on magical individuals.”

“And what concessions did wizards make in return?”

“We agreed not to interfere in Muggle governance—no wizards may become political leaders or figures of significant influence in Muggle society. We cannot use magic against prominent Muggles unless directly threatened, and we must remain neutral in their conflicts and wars.”

“What about Dark wizards who target Muggles?” Arthur asked.

“That responsibility falls to our Aurors. If they fail, the ICW intervenes. Under no circumstances can Muggles judge a witch or wizard—and the same applies in reverse. When Muggles violate the Covenant, Muggle authorities handle it according to their own laws. Should they fail to do so, the original agreement is considered broken and it is time for war.”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. “And what of Muggle-borns who leave the wizarding world seeking better opportunities?”

“They face limited options,” Dumbledore admitted. “They may live ordinary, unremarkable Muggle lives, or relocate to another wizarding community with more progressive attitudes.”

“I genuinely pity Muggle-borns in Britain then,” Arthur remarked. “No promising future here, and vital information like this Covenant deliberately withheld from them. What happens if someone unknowingly rises to political prominence—becomes a Member of Parliament, for instance?”

“People monitoring will identify them and issue warnings.”

“And if they disregard those warnings? The path to Parliament isn’t easy. They will not be willing to give everything up for a world that left them with no choice than to leave.”

“We inform specific Muggle authorities about their magical background,” Dumbledore explained. “They employ various methods to remove the individual from power—political scandals, business failures, and occasionally more aggressive approaches.”

“What if he decided to fight back using magic?”

“The wizarding world would provide no assistance whatsoever. Beyond restrictions against torture and experimentation, Muggle authorities would be permitted to respond with whatever force they deemed necessary.”

“So the situation isn’t entirely hopeless,” Arthur mused, turning the book over in his hands.

“You still intend to pursue your original course?” Dumbledore asked, studying him intently.

“I’m not foolish enough to charge ahead blindly,” Arthur replied. “Just as with the Triwizard Tournament, I’ll examine the rules exhaustively and identify exploitable loopholes. Besides, I’ve observed that when one possesses sufficient power, rules have a curious tendency to become more… flexible.”

“I wish you success in your endeavors, Mr. Hayes,”

“Likewise. May your convoluted plans for Harry and Voldemort achieve their intended outcomes.” Arthur rose from his chair. “Rest assured I won’t interfere with whatever scheme the false Moody has prepared for the Third Task. I hope Potter survives his inevitable confrontation with the newly-resurrected Dark Lord.”

“He will,” Dumbledore stated with absolute conviction. “Fate stands with him and he also has certain unique protection that will help him. Before you leave, Mr. Hayes, be careful. Your current inability to use magic makes you vulnerable, both within these walls and beyond them.”

Arthur paused at the door, a slight smile playing across his lips. “I appreciate your concern, Headmaster, but I’ll manage perfectly well. Contrary to popular belief, my reputation was never built solely on spell-casting ability. Good day.”

As the spiral staircase carried him downward, Arthur considered what he’d learned. The Covenant’s restrictions didn’t particularly trouble him. It did not put any dent in his future plans to involve himself in the Marvel world. However, he needed to ensure he learned everything possible from the wizarding world before potentially crossing that line.

The way forward was increasingly complex, but then again, he’d always excelled at exploiting the rules.

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