The Heart of Things

Blair and Becker entered the conference to find Patricia Blythe, Michael Weir, and Jim Kelly, the Secretary of Sorcery, already occupying it.

“Good morning,” greeted Blair, placing her briefcase on the table and sitting behind it. “Peter tells me we have a bit of a…situation.”

“Well, that’s the understatement of the century,” chuckled Kelly, looking positively cheery for a Secretary of Sorcery facing the very possible exposure of the magical world. “But you know, I can’t really blame Mr. Potter.”

Can’t blame him? Blair had to bite her tongue to hold the remark back. How could the Secretary sympathizing with Potter, who had caused this mess in the first place?

A shocked look must have crossed her face, because the Secretary chuckled at her, “Don’t look so stunned, Miss MacLean. I have full confidence in all of you to resolve this matter. You are, after all, some of my best people.”

Blair had to fight the urge to retort sarcastically. “Mr. Kelly…what exactly are we supposed to do? Convince Potter not to sue us?”

“On the contrary, Miss MacLean, Mr. Potter can sue us all he likes. Our attorneys assure me that we have no liability in this case, and I do not doubt them. It’s Ms. Rowling and her publishers we must protect.”

“Protect?” The word came out of Blair’s mouth before she could stop it, “Mr. Kelly, surely you agree that Ms. Rowling violated Potter’s privacy by releasing his life story to the public?”

“Miss MacLean, it’s a complicated situation. While Ms. Rowling maintains that the idea for the story is her own, we cannot rule out the possibilty that one of Potter’s less dangerous enemies fed her the idea.”

“Are you saying that someone planted Potter’s life story in Ms. Rowling’s mind, as a practical joke?” Blair was incredulous.

Kelly nodded. “It’s a possibility we can’t ignore. While Potter was well-liked by most of his classmates and co-workers, there are always the few that slip through the cracks. Perhaps they didn’t want to do him any physical harm, but knew just how to get his goat without risking a trip to Azkaban.”

“So our assignment is to find this guy and bring him in?” Michael Weir spoke up.

“No, Mr. Weir. Your highest priority is to stop Potter before he contacts Rowling or attempts to take legal action against her or any other Muggle organization. Once the problem is confined safely within magical borders, then you are welcome to have a go at Rowling.”

“And find out if she’s lying,” said Patricia Blythe.

“Yes, but I don’t think she is. We know she isn’t a witch, and she isn’t on our list of squibs. As far as I can tell, she has no ties whatsoever to the magical community, and as such, I can’t imagine her having the resources to discover so many details about Harry Potter’s life without anyone knowing about her.
The way I see it, only a experienced Legilimens could have found out so much about Potter’s private life. And only an experience Legiliemens would be able to plant all the knowledge in Rowling’s mind.”

“One second,” interrupted Blair. “You’re saying she wrote a word-by-word historical account of Potter’s years at Hogwarts?”

“Of course not, of course not, Miss MacLean. A good three-quarters of the story is pure imagination on Rowling’s part, such as dialogue. But if you ever happen to read them…they depict magical Britain as if Rowling had lived there all her life. From the Ministry of Magic all the way down to Zonko’s Joke Shop. While dialogue and many of the trivial bits are completely Rowling’s, it is impossible to overlook the accuracy of her setting.”

Everyone was silent, thinking this over. Who disliked Potter enough to put his life on display, but liked him enough to keep his everyday life intact? Before Blair could think on it further, Kelly started up again.

“Miss MacLean, you’re on Potter duty. Your people skills are the best out of all of us, at least for this particular situation, and I bet Potter has a soft spot for pretty girls,” Kelly said with a wink.

“Oh, shut up, Kelly, before I have you fired for sexual harassment,”

Kelly just laughed.

“You sure about those people skills, Secretary?” asked Becker, unconvinced that Blair could win over Potter with “people skills.”

“I’m very sure of them, Mr. Becker. Miss MacLean has charm, she just doesn’t use it on us unless she wants something.”

Blair smirked at Becker, who rolled his eyes.

“Weir and Blythe, you will need to make sure thing are smoothed over with the Ministry of Magic and enlist their help to protect Rowling and her publishers from any and all knowledge of the wizarding world. Because I can guarantee you, the minute we involve Muggles, we involve the Muggle government, which involves the Muggle press, which is a situation we’d all like to avoid.
Back up Blair if she needs it, but I’ll need you to be watching Potter and working with the Minister of Magic for the most part.”

Weir and Blythe nodded. Kelly went on.

“Mr. Becker, I’ll need you to step in for Miss MacLean while she is overseas. Make sure all her papework is sorted out and such.”

Becker snorted. “I already do that, sir,”

“Excellent. Then it’s all settled. Miss Maclean, Mrs. Blythe, and Mr. Weir, we are arranging a portkey for you as soon as possible. If you wouldn’t mind running home and packing a few things, everything should be in order by the time you return.”

Blair was glad she had finally passed her apparition test. Last year, going home would have meant meant making her way through security, walking the 6 blocks to the the Metro Center, riding the 4 stops, only to ride the bus into Georgetown, get off at her street, and then walk to her apartment. Ever since she had splinched herself horribly during her apparition test during her Senior year of schooling, she had been afraid to do it, and had preferred using the conventional methods. Leaving one’s head and knees behind while the rest of the body turns up elsewhere can be a very disturbing experience.

But now, she was glad for it. She didn’t even have time to blink before she appeared in her apartment.

It was hard to know what to pack. The weather was always iffy in Britain. She ended up with an equal amount of skirtsuits and pantsuits, all a conservative navy or black. If she need anything else she could go shopping in London.

Glancing around her apartment to make sure she hadn’t missed anything she might need, Blair slipped her wand inside the special pocket in her lapel, and disapparated.She found herself last to arrive once more. The others were waiting patiently with their suitcases in hand, all gathered around what looked to be a squashed styrofoam cup.

Kelly seemed pleased with his handiwork. “Clever, don’t you think?”

He didn’t give Blair a moment to answer before he began speaking again.

“If you will all please touch the cup, it’s set to go in about fifteen seconds. I wish all of you the best of luck, and remember-if something goes wrong, don’t bother coming back!” he laughed, and no one was given a chance to answer him as they were all tugged across the pond by a dirty, squashed bit of styrofoam.