"In fact even after 12 years since the end of the war with You-Know-Who we have not recovered the numbers of healers and aurors we had before the start of the war. As a country we may even be forced to hire aurors, healers, and potions masters from foreign countries simply because our schools are seemingly incapable of producing any of our own!"
...
The former headmaster was about to respond to these damaging remarks, when another rich and elegant voice he recognised as Lord Greengrass butted into the unfolding public drama. "I also have to agree with Lord Black and the young Lord Potter-Peverell on this matter Chief Warlock, since he is a first-hand witness," Nicholas solemnly agreed, his beautiful ice queen of a wife standing next to him on her husband's arm.
'I wonder if Daphne will look as beautiful as her mother at that age' he pondered for a few moments before Lord Greengrass spoke up again, as he mentally slapped himself for allowing his concentration to falter. "There have been several disturbing failures of security around Hogwarts of late, and the plummeting standard of education is also quite worrying to me, especially when Hogwarts is supposed to be the best magical school in all of Europe.
I am starting to realize that perhaps that was true, long ago, and we have all been deluding ourselves for years out of some misplaced sense of nationalism instead of ensuring that that remained true in reality year after year. I want the very best magical education possible for my two daughters, and I am truly starting to question Hogwarts' ability to do so."
'Best school in Europe? I seriously doubt that,' he mentally muttered, believing that statement was in fact some national delusion and unrealistic pride in the ancient school. If Hogwarts really was the best, the schools in the rest of Europe must be so poor that they somehow made Hogwarts look good in comparison, he pondered to himself.
"I have also heard from my daughter that there is a disturbing amount of criminal activity taking place within the school's walls, students brewing polyjuice potion to impersonate other students? Personal items being stolen by bullies and thieves? Pranks gone so far as to rightfully be considered assault?" Lady Greengrass added, supporting her husband, and also confirming to him that everything he shared with Daphne eventually found its way back to her mother and father. Even if seemingly obvious and likely, it was good to have that belief confirmed he supposed.
"You are aware, Chief Warlock, that brewing polyjuice potion is a criminal offence with a sentence in Azkaban?" Putting the Chief Warlock on the spot to answer, the aged wizard suddenly realized just how outnumbered he was, with no allies in sight, and just how much the audience was turning against him. The bigger problem was that from a certain point of view, everything being said was true and could be verified with minimal effort.
"The matter was dealt with, the students involved weren't aware that it was a criminal offense," he replied in a grandfatherly tone, downplaying the event as best he could and relegating it to a mistake of youth.
'That's a lie,' he mentally acknowledged, knowing first hand that in the textbook they had used to brew the potion there was a clear disclaimer about the potion's illegality in Britain, and the warning of a jail sentence for misuse. Unfortunately, before he could call the former headmaster on his lie, Lady Greengrass spoke again, robbing him of the chance to score another point against the old wizard, as well as to catch him publically in a lie.
"Was this marked down upon their school records?" Lady Greengrass pushed.
"I didn't see the need to, it was simply intended as a childish prank," the old wizard answered. "Now, if you would excuse me, I'm needed to oversee the final preparations for the trial," he said in dismissal, before virtually bolting down the corridor as fast his bony old legs could carry him without it actually looking like he was fleeing. Harry's enhanced eyes did notice, however, a beetle clinging on to the man's robes. 'What's she up to now?' he wondered, knowing he would be talking to Rita this evening about what she had heard before turning his attention to meet and greet Daphne's parents, Lord and Lady Greengrass.
"Now that was satisfying," Sirius proudly proclaimed with a roguish smirk whilst their thoughtful audience left to go back to their various tasks. "Nice timing there Nicholas, Cynthia, never seen the old goat move so fast."
"Indeed, it is a rare sight. I wasn't aware he could still move that fast," Nicholas agreed with a slight smile, before turning his attention to Harry. "Well played there Harry."
"Thank you Nicholas, I do try," he offered with a small smile, before giving a graceful bow. "Hopefully the rest of the day will go so well, if not better."
"I'm sure it will. Lord Malfoy has made far more enemies than he has allies over the years. I expect most will use this opportunity to retaliate for any number of past transgressions and slights Lord Malfoy doled out over the years, and his wife hasn't made too many friends either. More than a few ladies would like to see her fall from her lofty perch," Cynthia reasoned.
He nodded, knowing that there was constant state of rivalry behind old houses. "It certainly doesn't help that the Malfoy family vaults at Gringotts have also been sealed at the request of the Ministry, and are currently under investigation for tax evasion. Without access to the family vaults buying Lord Malfoy's innocence isn't really an option this time," he added, his smile turning more into a predatory smirk, whilst the trio nodded in agreement.
...
'Fucking half-blood, who does he think he is, acting like he is one of us,' Draco mentally snarled for what felt like the thousandth time since he had arrived earlier that morning for his father's trial. He couldn't help but stare hatefully across the Wizengamot courtroom at his most hated nemesis dressed in a set of highly expensive traditional head of house robes, his grinning blood traitor of a cousin who had the nerve not to die in Azkaban like he should have next to him. That filthy half-blood bastard was even laughing lightly at something that blood traitor had said, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. 'I'll get you for this Potter,' he promised, knowing his fall from grace and his father's destroyed mind was all Potter's doing.
He wanted nothing more than to reach for his unicorn tail hair wand and send a killing curse at Potter's smug face, his anger and hate boiling so strongly in his veins that, despite not knowing the inner workings of the murderous spell, he was certain he would be able to cast it successfully! He just wanted Potter dead, as he watched the fucking half-blood pretender that had stolen his rightful position as the Black family heir rise from his seat to meet the Minister of Magic, his anger and hatred for the Ravenclaw that had ruined his life intensifying to even new heights as he watched the pair.
'Uncle Cornelius should be talking to me! Not that fucking half-blood thief,' he mentally raged whilst glaring at his enemy, the Minister of Magic laughing at something Potter shared, the two of them smiling and laughing like they were old friends.
"Draco, stop staring," his Mother hissed dangerously from besides him, instantly grabbing his attention.
"Mother, they're talking about us," he hissed back, as he looked at his prim and proper mother who had her familiar blank mask in place, the same icy indifferent mask she used whenever outside the house or attending social functions.
"You don't know that, they could be talking about anything, and most likely nothing of importance, just polite small talk to be seen talking to each other," she argued back, her voice calm and level even as he stared back at his most hated enemy and the man his father had actively encouraged him to call Uncle Cornelius getting friendly together. "Draco, ignore it, don't make me take you back to Hogwarts," she warned in a much firmer tone, his normally doting mother for once showing a surprising amount of steel.
Not knowing whether his mother was being serious or not with her threat, he decided not to push his luck with his mother being in this unexpected and unfamiliar mood. Shifting his attention away from the unfolding scene involving his nemesis, he decided to focus on examining this ancient chamber turned makeshift courtroom.
...
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