Breakfast Time
For once, all four Heads of House and core subject professors attended breakfast together, using the meal to discuss next term's teaching assignments. Professor McGonagall delegated tasks with authority, and the others responded promptly, embodying a dutiful chain of command that gave her an almost headmaster-like presence.
As an elective professor, Melvin tried to dodge the workload, racking his brain for legitimate excuses, but McGonagall brushed them aside without a second thought.
Faced with such an uncompromising boss, Melvin could only sigh helplessly. Spreading jam on his toast, he leaned toward Professor Flitwick, whispering complaints.
"Teaching lower-year Defense Against the Dark Arts temporarily, handling new term supply purchases, haggling with Hogsmeade merchants, and even replying to parents' letters to explain the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk? Is that really an elective professor's job?"
Melvin grumbled under his breath, "Does McGonagall think I'm a Head of House?"
Flitwick paused thoughtfully. "It's not out of the question."
"Hm?" Melvin shot him a puzzled look.
"You're an Ilvermorny graduate, so house affiliation doesn't limit you. You could take on any house's Head role," Flitwick explained matter-of-factly. "McGonagall's tied up with headmaster duties. If you offered to take over Gryffindor, she might agree. Pomona doesn't care much for the Head role; she'd be thrilled to let you look after Hufflepuff. As for Ravenclaw, I'd love someone to take my place so I can focus on the Charms Club, the Toad Choir, and—since Lockhart's gone—the Dueling Club needs a guiding professor. Only Slytherin might be tricky; Severus could object."
"Uh…" Melvin blinked, then focused intently on spreading his toast.
The half-goblin professor must not have slept well—spouting nonsense like that.
As breakfast wound down, owl post swooped through the Great Hall's skylights, delivering packages and letters. Professor Sprout, subscribed to The Daily Prophet, unfolded the morning edition and read aloud, "The Ministry of Magic issued a public response yesterday regarding the Floo Network overhaul. All issues have been resolved, departments are in agreement, and the project will commence soon. The Department of Magical Transportation is collaborating with the Mirror Club to enable wizards to view the Memory Mirror from home…"
Melvin glanced at the front-page photo: Cornelius Fudge and Madam Edgecombe stood side by side, both sporting polite smiles. Edgecombe's was faint but genuine; Fudge's was stiff, almost reluctant.
Flitwick turned to him. "It's approved already? When does the overhaul start?"
Melvin, still eyeing Sprout's paper, replied calmly, "It passed yesterday afternoon. I got the news last night. Barring surprises, work starts today. The Floo Network Authority's been preparing for a while, and with Romania's experience, it should wrap up quickly."
"I see…" Flitwick nodded.
The Floo Network, a staple of wizarding travel, linked fireplaces across regions. In Britain, nearly every wizarding household's fireplace was connected, allowing swift travel between the Ministry, pubs, and shops.
Like the Apparition ban, Hogwarts' fireplaces could join the network if the headmaster granted access. But Dumbledore and his predecessors consistently blocked the connection to avoid Ministry oversight, as Hogwarts operated independently.
---
The Department of Magical Transportation, a core Ministry division on the sixth underground level, housed the Floo Network Authority, the Broom Regulatory Control, the Portkey Office, and the Apparition Test Center. Together, they managed a regulatory system covering Floo powder networks, flying devices, and spatial transport, ensuring wizarding travel remained secret and safe, maintaining separation from the Muggle world.
Ding…
The elevator's metal grate slid open, revealing a straight corridor stretching deep into the department.
The ceiling bore a silver-lined map dotted with flickering green lights, like stars, representing Floo-connected fireplaces. Ancient runes circled the map, confirming their purpose.
Every few meters, portraits lined the walls, depicting milestones in magical transportation: the Floo Network's establishment, the Hogwarts Express's maiden voyage, the Knight Bus weaving through London streets. These magical paintings showed animated Ministry staff and passengers cheering vividly.
Footsteps echoed softly on the dark wooden floor. Offices and testing areas flanked the corridor, where faint pops of air and the scent of hot tea mixed with fireplace ash occasionally drifted out.
The sixth floor's atmosphere was less tense than the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or as eerie as the Department of Mysteries.
Melvin noted it was busier than other floors. Uniformed staff, bearing the department's badge, bustled about, joined by curious onlookers from other divisions intrigued by the Floo overhaul. Materials were ready, technicians were in place, and a crowd of observers gathered.
Most were strangers, but Melvin recognized a few faces.
Madam Bones, with sharp, bright eyes, a high nose, and a square jaw, exuded competence and fairness.
Beside her stood Barty Crouch, lean with drooping mustache ends, his face taut—likely still scarred from past tragedies, giving him a perpetually grim look.
At the center was Madam Edgecombe, who nodded in greeting.
Wright and Old Will, the Mirror Club's representatives, were there too—one handling technical aspects, the other administrative.
The Floo Network overhaul, the most significant project in a century, tied the old transport network to a future information hub. The Ministry hadn't tackled anything this big in years, and senior officials were deeply invested.
"Greetings, Madam Bones. Thank you for your support," Melvin said, then turned to Crouch. "Mr. Crouch, good to see you. I heard some Ministry staff resist change, but International Cooperation's vote was crucial."
"My duty," Crouch replied curtly. "Romania's overhaul proved its feasibility and correctness."
"Good to see you again, Professor Levent," Bones said with a knowing smile. "Setting aside the Floo and Mirror business, Azkaban's warden tells me the Dementors were badly injured after your visit. They're desperate to feed on prisoners' souls to recover, causing some chaos."
"That was self-defense. Tonks can vouch for me," Melvin said confidently, glancing at Crouch, whose face tightened further at the mention of Azkaban.
"Dementors attacking wizards deserve punishment. Your Patronus Charm was impressive," Bones said, brushing off the Azkaban issue. Those sinister creatures couldn't be eradicated, so their injuries were inconsequential.
Today's focus was the Floo overhaul.
Bones turned to the Mirror Club's representatives, addressing Wright. "Mr. Monkstanley, how will the overhaul proceed? Do you need other Ministry staff?"
"Uh…" Wright blinked, caught off guard.
It had been years since Bones addressed him so formally, stirring nostalgia. Returning to the Ministry, surrounded by familiar faces but in a new role, felt surreal. His family had helped build the Floo Network long ago.
"No need," Wright said, regaining composure. "Madam Edgecombe and I finalized the plan. Materials are ready, and our Floo infrastructure is more advanced than Romania's. With quick work, we'll finish in a couple of days."
Old Will, the administrative lead, stayed silent.
A staff member consulted the department heads, and upon their approval, technicians sprang into action. Wright directed the orderly process, and the room housing the Floo Network's core device soon filled with people.
Melvin watched quietly from the sidelines.
Though often credited as the Mirror's inventor due to his prominence in news, his basic alchemy paled compared to the Monkstanley family's magical craftsmanship.
For centuries, the Monkstanleys evolved from simple lighting charms to advanced alchemy, blending Muggle technology into a unique approach. Their innovation outshone magic itself, earning praise even from legendary alchemist Nicolas Flamel.
From St. Mungo's Hospital to the Ministry's construction, the Hogwarts Express, and the Knight Bus, Monkstanley creations dotted wizarding Britain.
The Memory Mirror was poised to be a groundbreaking achievement, and Wright would etch a new Monkstanley mark in history.
Zzt…
A wand's tip glowed, etching runic arrays onto metal and stone.
In the room's center, a green bonfire roared, its flames flickering with faint images of fireplaces.
Silver mist was channeled into the fire, guided by precise magic. It swirled like ink in water, threading through the flames and reaching into the ethereal fireplaces.