9am, Sunday
September 19, 2010

It could be said without dishonesty or hyperbole that there was likely never a time the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle had not looked grand. Even when it was full of the mundanity of students studying, or when it's rafters were broken and walls smeared with smoldering after a decades-ago bloody battle, the Great Hall was an impressive place.  That is all to be able to tell you, dear reader, what it must look like today.

Everything was in purples, golds, richest blues and silver - draped banners and pennants hung with the Ministry of Magic's seal lovingly nearby to that of Hogwarts School.  Booths and awning'd pavilions made the chamber look like a sunlit, open air bazaar.  The fire from the braziers was nothing to the gleaming splendor of the enthusiastically enchanted ceiling. 

Owls flitted and perched, knots of reporters hustled for space, students milled about chattering loudly in the central open space.  Everyone was in lovely states of dress - suits, robes, capes, and the most stately millinery. The main dais was dominated by the school's regal podium, and all around it gathered professors, parents, staff, school governors, and of course, the Minister of Magic Persepolis Zephyr.

---

She smiled.  And smiled again.  She shook hands warmly, she chuckled shrewdly, she raised a hand in a dignified wave.  It was as natural to her as a fish swimming in a tranquil sea.  She knew every ebb and tide. She could spot the predators. And the prey.  Her brightly colored robes, her jangling gold jewelry, her intricately knotted hair.  And all around her the hubbub was a low thrum.  A dull roar. The soothing white noise of a seashore.

Persepolis wondered to herself if she, as a young Ravenclaw of an age fourteen or sixteen, would have cared even a little about what some old witch with a title had to say.  "I'd like to think so," she thought to herself, letting her eyes fall upon some faces in the crowd.  She recognized a few. Juni Zamperia, her Obliviator's daughter.  Joshua Harcroft and Gracie Slant - both TetraWizard Tournament champions.  Jordyn Dimbleby.  She was Head Girl. "I'd have liked to have been Head Girl."

A voice drew her back into the Great Hall.  "Minister - shall we?"

She followed her staffer away from the throng and to a staging area so that formal introductions could be made.

It had been quite a night! There was a small but passionate little Herbology club and they had been hard at work on a 'living booth'.  The entire club - all two of them - had labored for hours to coax some big-leafed vines into growing.  Branwen Strangely was near the main doors beneath a massive purple banner helping the students into reviving said big-leafed vines when a hush came over the space.

"Getting started, are they? All ears, children."  She shuffled some of the shorter children in front of of her, then stood back and folded her arms with a funny smile.

Maurice had been surveying the campus, namely the Great Hall. No detail was left unattended as Persepolis the Minister was touring her body around, Maurice ensuring nothing less than her absolute safety. What with the insanity of the summer, he was certain that people could strike again at any place, any time if they so desired and Maurice Holmes wasn't about to allow this to continue under his watch. Once satisfied with handiwork and that the reception food table was acceptable for even for the Minister, the assistant was off to find his Minister. Sure enough, she was well protected with a few bodyguards nearby, keeping an ever observant eye on those around her. Approaching the witch, his smile was warm, kind, and no doubt meant only for her to enjoy.

No, he was by no means smitten with the Minister, but Maurice did find her company to be some of the absolute best, especially when growing animated. "Minister - shall we?" he had indeed spoken, escorting her back into the Great Hall, an air that no doubt many would state as arrogant, cocky. "I'll announce you right after my initial speech. Everything is in order, madame," Maurice relayed with the same smile that had yet to leave. "You look stunning as usual, if I do say so myself." Patting her shoulder, the wizard headed up to the podium, smiling as best he could as Branwen escorted the little ones closer to the front.

"Sonorus." His eyes gazed out to the audience. "Good morning, students of Hogwarts. I am Mr. Holmes, assistant to our esteemed Minister. (A snort[1] from the crowd was briefly heard; Maurice's eyes crinkled in distaste before continuing.) The Ministry is very pleased to have taken part of your hearty welcome and I speak on behalf of the Minister as well as the Ministry of how proud to see the work you are producing here at Hogwarts. Your education inside the classroom and the organisations outside the classroom are very beneficial to your lives and we wish for you all the very best." Taking a gulp of water from the goblet, Maurice swallowed it, the broad smile that now surely seemed a bit more plastic stayed fixated on the bodies in front of him.

"Our Minister has assured me that we shan't keep you very long and with this in mind, it is my pleasure to turn over to your listening ears, Persepolis Zephyr, Minister of Magic!' Moving aside, Maurice ended the spell, nodding to Persepolis as they passed. "Go get them."

1.	With Kelly's AWESOME permission, it's Linus Hughes~

"You're a giant, dear Holmes," Persepolis coo'd just as comfortable around Maurice Holmes as he was around her. They were a good team, the two of them.  As he made his brief remarks, again the noise of the Great Hall faded away to a quiet hum as she let herself relax into her own skin and get settled behind her eyes.  She was composing herself. There were perhaps some who would find speaking to students to be a bore and a chore and not worthy of much effort or time. But today, she felt there was nothing more important than showing the students they mattered to.

The applause brought her forward again and she had a wink and a smile for Maurice as he gave her an 'attaboy'. She took her place at the podium which was adorned with an owl motif.  Wand to her throat, she gently amplified her voice.

"Students and professors, community members, and the ever-watchful members of the press, I'm so pleased we could all be here together today.

"I don't dare take this moment for granted. I see each of you and could count each step you took today. Each morning you pulled yourself out of bed. Every time you cast your wand in pursuit of learning and service. 

"When I say we are not here today by accident, I don't mean to say that it was fate who made it inevitable. We are here for a reason: because today is the culmination of every choice we've ever made."

The Minister's voice was calm and bright, just the touch of a smile.  She knew that this abstraction would only hold attention for perhaps a phrase or two more, but she had calculated there would be some who, like her, had always enjoyed a touch of the philosophical.

"I'm not here by accident either.  Over the last few weeks, I've spoken with your professors and the school governors.  I've been briefed by Aurors.  I've sat with a pot of tea and a quill deciding what I should say to you.  Last evening, I met with two sharp young witches, your classmates.  I made these choices because it was important to me that I arrive at this moment to say these words: "

She paused for effect, then lifted her chin high, her voice strong.

"Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak."

There was immediate laughter and applause from those in the room older than thirty or so, and perhaps some response from those students who'd ever read any of the more personal memoirs of Harry Potter or the (good) biography of Albus Dumbledore.  When the murmurs setttled, her composure appeared less formal.  Her smile was wider.

"You'll forgive and old witch her nostalgia, but those were the words of Albus Dumbledore as remembered by his friends, spoken here in this hall.  Truer words have never been spoken! As you walk these halls and go about your studies it will be easy to take it for granted and to resent the apparent tedium.  But I implore you: make every choice your best choice.  And if you begin to feel that nothing matters, or that you'll never see the sunshine again, just remember these four words.  One more time:

"Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak.

"Thank you."