Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

"That is dreadful," Sirius agreed. Lupin fought the urge to kick him in the shin. "You must be distraught."

"I am distraught! It was a corner office! It had a view of the Thames!"

Percy tugged at his hair with a woeful air. "Now itś full of mops and Parkinsonś Perfect Parquet Polish!"

"Can´t you register a complaint…?"

"Apparently it involves filling out several forms in triplicate, then sending them to the Department for the Investigation of Random Acts of Magic, which I happen to know was closed down last year for lack of funds.

Goddamn Malfoy," Percy seethed. "I´ll get him for this."

"You think Lucius Malfoy had something to do with this?"

"Him and his cronies. I´m telling you, the only Ministry officials who haven´t had their offices transfigured into something nasty are the ones who´ve always been a little bit shady, if you get my meaning." Percy gave Sirius a wide-eyed look. "You do get my meaning, don´t you?"

"Percy, I always get your meaning," Sirius said. "You haven´t a subtle bone in your body. None of you Weasleys do, except perhaps Bill. Itś why you make such bad liars and, I´m rather beginning to think, why your father wound up in the position of Minister when he did."

Lupin spoke quietly. "Any word on who might be replacing him?"

Percy glanced quickly up and down the deserted marble hallway before replying. "The general procedure is that the head of the Advisory Council acts as temporary replacement if the Minister is no longer able to perform his duties. The position of head of the Council rotates monthly. Right now," Percy finished grimly, "itś Francis Parkinson."

"What a surprise." Sirius´ tone was flat. "Francis Parkinson: runs a successful company that sells cosmetics and household charms. Keen on broomstick racing, pretending he wasn´t a Death Eater twenty years ago, and yapping on about how the Muggles are ruining this fine country. I used to know him when I was an Auror."

"Apparently." Lupin was impressed. "So, in other words, heś a minion.

How much of the Ministry would you say is now entirely under their control?"

"Let me put it this way," Percy said in a chilling tone. "Do whatever you have to do here and get out. Then, don´t come back. This location is now hopelessly compromised. It won´t be safe much longer…" Percy paused and for a moment the officious tone left his voice. "You´ve come from the Burrow, haven´t you? Any word on Ginny and Ron?"

Sirius shook his dark head. "I´m sorry, they´re not home yet. Still, both are hale and hearty, according to your mumś clock."

Percy sighed. "I´m sure they´re fine. Still, if you wouldn´t mind adding their names to the Missing Persons list in the main hall for me? In case they turn up without their memories or something." He drew his cloak more tightly about him, a woebegone expression creeping across his freckled face. "I´d better go," he said, and ducked out of the stairwell.

"I think young Percy has been reading too many comic books," Sirius remarked as the third Weasley child disappeared down the hall. "´This location is now hopeless compromisedíndeed. Why didn´t he just say it straight out: 'This building is full of miserable Death Eaters in training whose fondest dream would be to make festive if unconventional balloon animals out of your internal organs.´"

"Not everyone possesses your fabulous descriptive powers, Padfoot."

"Too true." They ducked out of the stairwell and made their way back to the Main Hall, still a hive of feverish action. Lupin watched Sirius a little uneasily as they made their way across the parquet floor. Sirius had that air about him of being ready to do something unexpected. That was never good.

They paused in front of a long roll of parchment tacked to the wall near two of the larger doors. Knots of wizards and witches stood about, muttering in low voices: nearby a pretty red-headed teenage girl was hugging an older witch and wizard — obviously her parents — and crying.

The parchment had a number of names on it, most of which had been checked off and a location noted where the Whirlwind Charm had dropped the subject: Jessica Noll: Kensington High Street; Serena Verdant: blasted heath, Yorkshire; Darcy Claiborne: haystack, Suffolk. Sirius picked up the quill that was floating nearby and began to scratch Ronś name onto the bottom.

"I wouldn´t bother, if I were you," said a sour voice from behind them.

"Heś not considered missing. Heś considered to have run off."

Lupin knew who it was even before he turned around. Snape. He stood behind them in his customary black, his greasy hair half-hiding his narrowed eyes, looking like a bat who had just swooped down from the high ceiling overhead. His long fingers were stained, as if he had come straight from his Potions laboratory.

"Snape," Sirius said. "What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent me to find you," Snape said. "He had an urgent message he wanted me to deliver."

"All right," Sirius said, and folded his arms across his chest. "What is it?"

"Don´t you think it would be better if we spoke outside?" Snape demanded in a hissing whisper.

"No," Sirius said. "I think it would be better if we spoke right here."

"Sirius…" Lupin began with a groan.

"What are you afraid of anyway, Snape?" Sirius snapped. "The idiot Death Eater minions in this building? They can´t do anything to us. They don´t want to show their hands too soon, so they´ll leave us be — after all, we´re not Muggles, and we´re not breaking any rules."

"Oh, no?" Snapeś eyes glittered. "I´m fairly sure thereś a rule about no dogs on Ministry property."

Sirius affected an injured look. "And I invited you to my stag night, too."

"Although he did skip the reception," Lupin pointed out.

"Yes," Snape admitted. "But I had a good reason."

"Oh?" Sirius looked curious. "What was it?"

"I didn´t want to go."

"Then why did you bother going to the stag night?" Sirius threw up his hands.

"I like the Cold Christmas Inn." Snapeś voice was ruminative. "I enjoy their dartboard."

"You weird, antisocial, gerbil of a man," said Sirius. "I don´t know why I bothered inviting you in the first place."

"I assumed Narcissa asked you to," Snape said. "She always liked me."

"Yes, well, nobodyś perfect," Sirius muttered.

"I told her many times she was too good for you," Snape announced. "It would have made far more sense if you´d married him." He pointed at Lupin. "Nobody else can stand either one of you, and you could take each other for walks."

"I´m not sure any amount of urgent messages from Dumbledore are worth this," Lupin said, interrupting the glaring contest developing between Snape and Sirius. "Severus, if you´ve got something to say…"

Snapeś eyes darted around the room. Then, with a sigh, he reached into his pocket and drew out a glass vial; he uncorked it and poured the potion inside onto the floor. A bright cloud of scarlet smoke flew up and enveloped the three of them inside a cloudy crimson bubble. Lupin could hear his own breathing and Siriusín his ear; but other than that there was total silence. No noise from outside the bubble penetrated at all.

"Now we´ve broken a rule," said Snape, with some satisfaction.

"Always riding the ragged edge of rebellion, aren´t you, Snape," said Sirius. His eyes were bright and amused. "I take it nobody can hear us when we´re in here?"

"Exactly, but itś temporary, so listen closely." Snape spoke rapidly.

"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to request that you once again assemble the old group. Headquarters will be the Burrow; itś already been re-warded. The great likelihood is that if the current Ministry is if not entirely under the control of Voldemortś supporters, it soon will be.