The class wound down to the sound of thoroughly reluctant groans, which Bernadette ignored with practised ease. She stored all the equipment in her ring and set a new essay topic: If you were a Muggle, how would you explain the Muggle world to a witch or wizard?
This was primarily aimed at the students who had no experience of the Muggle world — for students like Harry and Hermione, the prompt was reversed: If you were a witch or wizard, how would you explain the wizarding world to a Muggle?
Seeing Hermione and Patricia walk out of the classroom together on apparently friendly terms, Bernadette decided there was nothing more she needed to do. But she had barely stepped into the corridor before Snape came striding up. "Come with me."
"Has something happened?"
"People from the Ministry of Magic are here. Along with the Chadwells." A thin, satisfied smile crossed Snape's lips. "This time, even Dumbledore probably can't protect you."
Bernadette said mildly: "Is it about the unicorn? Even if I actually did kill it — I'm not aware of any law that makes killing a unicorn a crime."
"Ha. I hope you're still this composed once we're inside."
Snape delivered her to the headmaster's office door and departed. Inside, where it was normally quiet and sparsely occupied, seven or eight people were crammed together. Three of them were somewhat familiar — the school governors from the last visit. The remaining group: four in brown trench coats, and at their head, a short, middle-aged man in a pinstriped suit, vivid red tie, and a dark green bowler hat.
Dumbledore sat at his desk with a pleasant expression. As Bernadette and Snape came in, he said: "Cornelius, Charles is here. Whatever you'd like to know, feel free to ask."
The middle-aged man — Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic — glanced back at Bernadette, exchanged a look with Governor Chadwell, and managed a smile. "Perhaps we could find somewhere quieter to speak."
Dumbledore immediately said: "That really isn't necessary. If you need privacy, I can arrange for this room to be completely sealed." He paused, and the eyes behind his half-moon spectacles glinted. "Unless, Cornelius, what you actually want is to speak without me present?"
Fudge wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. "Of course not, Albus! Here is perfectly fine."
"Then do sit, everyone."
A touch of Dumbledore's wand to the desk, and several sofas appeared — enough for everyone to be seated comfortably.
"Charles Chen."
Fudge turned to Bernadette, his tone sharpening. "Regarding the events of a week ago, when you hunted and killed a unicorn—"
"Ahem."
Dumbledore coughed. "I believe we already established the facts on that matter. It was a transparently clumsy attempt at a frame-up."
Governor Chadwell gave a dismissive sound. "Headmaster Dumbledore, are you in the habit of instructing the Minister on how to do his job?"
"..."
Fudge's expression darkened. "Albus, please. Don't interfere with my work."
Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles and said nothing more.
"Regarding the events of a week ago, when you hunted and killed a unicorn — do you have anything to say?"
Bernadette looked at him steadily. "Which law does killing a unicorn violate?"
"???"
Fudge blinked, then glanced back at Dawlish — who gave a small, quiet shake of his head.
Chadwell stepped in again. "We're simply concerned that someone who can bring themselves to kill a creature like a unicorn is too dangerous to remain at Hogwarts. Who's to say that if you'll harm a unicorn, you won't one day harm the students?"
Fudge nodded along eagerly. "Exactly. Exactly."
Bernadette gave a calm nod, then stood up. "Ah. Since no law has been broken, I'll be going. Whether I'm fit to remain here, you can sort that out with Professor Dumbledore."
She turned toward the door.
Dawlish immediately called out: "Wait. Charles Chen — this isn't over."
"I've received intelligence that over the past several years, you were living among Dark wizards and committed numerous serious crimes. We're asking you to come with us for an examination."
Bernadette paused. "You said I was living among Dark wizards — are you referring to me being hunted by Dark wizards? And the serious crimes — are you referring to me acting in self-defence against them?"
"If so, then yes. Guilty as charged."
Fudge's expression brightened. "Excellent. I'm sorry, Albus — he just confessed."
Bernadette looked puzzled. "Minister Fudge — when I was being hunted by Dark wizards, what would the correct course of action have been?"
Dawlish spoke up promptly. "You may defend yourself, but you shouldn't have killed them."
"I see." Bernadette's gaze moved slowly from face to face around the room. "Then, gentlemen — the Aurors present. When you face the full brutal force of Dark wizards in the field, can you always manage to defend yourselves without delivering a killing blow? Or is it that only Aurors have the right to kill?"
This was said because she could see the murder labels on several of them.
Dawlish and the other Aurors' expressions shifted.
"And while we're on the subject," Bernadette turned to Chadwell's group, "what about you? Why did you kill? Was it because Death Eaters have the right to kill? And who granted that right — Voldemort?"
"!!!"
Fudge nearly leapt out of his chair. "You — you can't just say that name!"
Dumbledore smiled gently. "Cornelius, it's only a name. Nothing to be afraid of."
"But — but—"
Chadwell said, coldly: "I don't know what you're implying. We were all under the Imperius Curse at the time."
Bernadette was accommodating: "Then I was under the Imperius Curse as well."
"..."
After a silence, Chadwell said: "I think we've let Charles lead us off track. The real issue isn't self-defence — it's that he's been a Dark wizard all along!"
Bernadette looked at him and said, evenly: "That is a false accusation."
Crack.
The moment the words left her mouth, a whip appeared out of thin air and struck Chadwell squarely across the face, leaving a bleeding weal.
The sudden violence froze everyone in the room. Chadwell stared at Bernadette in outrage. "Charles! You — you dare attack me in front of the Minister?!"
Bernadette opened her hands and looked at Dumbledore — and at the Aurors.
Dawlish coughed carefully. "Er — Chadwell, sir, I didn't personally observe Charles Chen doing anything. None of us did. In fact, I didn't sense so much as a flicker of magical energy."
"You—"
Bernadette glanced up at the row of portrait paintings on the wall. "Perhaps one of the former headmasters, upon witnessing a professor being falsely accused to his face, simply couldn't restrain themselves?"
Portraits can do that?
The assembled portrait headmasters looked at one another with genuine confusion, each silently wondering which of them had somehow developed this new capability.
Bernadette said, very calmly: "If you're unconvinced, feel free to try it again."
To be continued…
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