Harry Potter and The Other

Kingsley Shacklebolt practically lived in his ministerial office, each day growing more horrified by the mess he had found himself in. The state treasury was in disarray, and the ministry reports were even worse. The only department that seemed to be running somewhat smoothly was the Department of Mysteries. Give them artifacts to study, pay their salaries, and they happily went about their business. They were meticulous, with every result recorded and every Knut accounted for.

The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, on the other hand, had become a catastrophe itself in recent months, offering nothing but reports of extreme workloads and lists of overtime payouts. Meanwhile, the Department of Magical Games and Sports had for the third time requested funding for the national Gobstones championship, and Shacklebolt gleefully marked it with "Denied," following in the footsteps of his predecessor, Pius Thicknesse. There was simply no money to finance the championship; what was left in the treasury had been cleaned out to pay a reward to Voldemort's vanquisher. Perhaps taxes should be raised, but that was such an unpopular measure...

How could there be order or funds when ministers changed annually, and the last one had been under the Imperius Curse? And even Fudge, who had held the office for years, mostly concerned himself with pilfering and squandering public funds. Shacklebolt made a mental note to see if Fudge could be imprisoned or at least fined, preferably both—the man deserved Azkaban if only for his failure to act on reports of Voldemort's return. The country needed money, after all. Let Fudge sit there and think about how he'd ruined the nation...

Shacklebolt's gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I said not to disturb me!" barked the former Auror, not lifting his head from the papers.

The door creaked open, and Shacklebolt finally raised his head. His personal secretary, Percy Weasley, was halfway through the door.

"Apologies, sir, but this is important. Mr. Albus Dumbledore himself has requested an audience with you, and it would be awkward to keep him waiting."

"What does he want?"

"A private conversation, sir."

"As if I have nothing better to do than hold private conversations," Shacklebolt grumbled. Knowing the meddlesome old man, he realized Dumbledore wouldn't leave him alone. "Fine, send him in."

Percy disappeared, and a few minutes later, Dumbledore entered the Minister's office, wearing a purple robe with golden stars and looking as benign and fatherly as ever.

"Kingsley, my boy, hello, my dear fellow!" he exclaimed from the doorway. "How are you holding up?"

If the former Headmaster of Hogwarts thought that such an address would touch a seasoned and experienced man like the Minister for Magic, he was sorely mistaken.

"Thank you, sir, I'm managing as best I can," Shacklebolt replied coldly. "What business brings you here, sir?"

"I came to see how you're doing, my boy," Dumbledore said in a friendly tone, seating himself in the visitor's chair without invitation.

"I hope you understand that my time is valuable, sir."

Dumbledore, of course, caught the hint.

"Forgive me, old man that I am... I just thought you might need some moral support and couldn't resist coming. Do you remember how we used to sit together and discuss the affairs of the Order of the Phoenix? We supported each other back then, so I thought you might miss me now…"

"Mr. Dumbledore, if you're here on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix, I must tell you that after the defeat of Britain's greatest enemy, there is no further need for the Order's activities. The organization was created for a specific task, and it has fulfilled that task. I believe it would be reasonable to dissolve it, as it is no longer necessary. And as for casual chats, I don't have time for those right now and won't for the foreseeable future."

Dumbledore's white-bearded face took on a sorrowful expression.

"My boy, you're so consumed by work, but one must not forget old friends," the old man sighed and gave the Minister a reproachful look.

"Are you asking for something, sir?" Shacklebolt guessed.

"I was hoping to inquire about how things are going at Hogwarts, my boy."

"For that, you'd need to speak to the current Headmistress, Madam McGonagall. I sent a team of repairmen there, but it's she who oversees the school's restoration, and she knows the details better than I do."

"I'm deeply concerned about how Minerva is managing the duties of Headmistress," Dumbledore sighed again. "She was an excellent deputy, but running the school—it's just not her forte…"

Shacklebolt gave him a suspicious look.

"On the contrary, I'm very pleased with her as Headmistress. According to the school reports, she's handling leadership far better than you or Mr. Snape ever did."

"Yes, yes, Minerva is brilliant," Dumbledore agreed sadly. "Though such a short time doesn't really show much."

Shacklebolt glanced at his watch and then at his persistent visitor.

"When it does, we'll think about it, but right now I have no reason to question Madam McGonagall's professionalism. Don't worry about it, sir, the school's leadership is in good hands."

A prolonged silence followed, during which Kingsley Shacklebolt glanced at his watch several times in annoyance. If Dumbledore had returned to life immediately after his death, the former Auror would have clung to him. But a year had passed since then—a year that had proven that without Dumbledore, the sun hadn't dimmed, the Earth hadn't fallen off its axis, Britain was still standing, and the great vanquisher of Grindelwald—dare one say it—hadn't left anything behind that would make anyone regret his passing.

And now, barely resurrected, he was already trying to undermine McGonagall, whom Shacklebolt respected and valued. If he had asked to return to the position of Headmaster in another way, the Minister might have considered it, but this...

"My boy..." Dumbledore finally broke the silence. "Britain is going through difficult times, and I can't stay on the sidelines. If necessary, I'd even be willing to work as a simple teacher again, if I still remember how to teach Transfiguration, ha-ha."

"I appreciate your patriotic impulse, sir, but all positions at Hogwarts are filled, and we don't have funds for additional staff. Perhaps you'd be interested in working as a messenger or a janitor at the Ministry—that's all I can offer you at the moment."

Dumbledore gave Shacklebolt a reproachful look, but ministers are not the kind of people who are moved by such expressions. Once the old man realized that, he cleared his throat and continued:

"My boy, I would prefer to do something more useful than sweeping Ministry floors. If you don't have any suitable positions for me, I'd be willing to engage in public service. The Wizengamot, perhaps…"

"The Wizengamot is fully staffed, sir, and there will be no vacancies in the near future. It's a very stressful job, and at your age, you shouldn't be overexerting yourself. It would be better for you to enjoy a well-deserved retirement."

"Er..."

"If that's all, this audience is over."

Shacklebolt returned to his reports, while Dumbledore remained seated, a personification of reproach toward those in power. The Minister soon noticed that his visitor was still there and pressed the button to summon his secretary.

"Escort Mr. Dumbledore out," he ordered when Percy Weasley entered. Dumbledore had no choice but to follow Percy to the door.

Oh, these ungrateful, ungrateful students...