"...Hagrid, are you planning to tell the whole bar about this?"
Professor McGonagall finally couldn't hold it anymore and asked somewhat irritably.
"Ahem."
Realizing he was speaking too loudly, Hagrid coughed twice, yet the tense atmosphere at the table shattered instantly with his action.
"Cornelius, we all know what you're thinking, but you need to rest assured, Dumbledore doesn't have that intention."
"Of course, I know."
Know my foot, who doesn't know what you're thinking now? Flitwick rolled his eyes, speechless, then sipped sulkily on some soda. The ice-cold water in the middle of winter sent a shiver down his spine, waking him up from his drowsiness.
"But if we give up on the Dementors, the Aurors may not be able to catch... Blake."
Fudge continued, his voice lowered, seemingly afraid of being overheard—of course, he was concerned. This was a statement that shook public confidence, as the Ministry of Magic was consistently claiming that Sirius did not pose any threat.
"The headmaster said, until you can control those creatures, he won't allow even a single Dementor near Hogwarts."
Professor McGonagall shrugged. She was obviously concerned about Fudge's statement as well, having even raised this issue with Dumbledore herself, but the response was always somewhat ambiguous, "There will be a way." "Blake won't cause any major trouble—"
What way?
Professor McGonagall didn't know either, but experience told her to trust Dumbledore.
"Bang—"
As they were discussing, with a dull thud, the bar door was blown open again by the cold wind. Hidden under the table, Harry couldn't see who came in, but he soon learned the identity of the entrants.
"Kingsley?"
Fudge stood up from his seat, and the other three professors did the same.
"Minister."
An unfamiliar voice sounded, and the entire bar fell silent with this exchange.
What was happening?
Harry thought confusedly, wanting to take the risk to poke his head out for a look, but stopped when the halted conversation suddenly resumed.
"This is the twelfth inspection today, and it's only noon, Mr. Auror."
Harry noticed the pair of turquoise high heels approached again, and the female voice resounded, "This is really affecting my business, you know... It would be better to bring those Dementors back; at least, when they inspect, the guests would be a bit more agitated."
"Sorry, Madam Rosmerta, it's just unavoidable," Kingsley's voice sounded apologetic.
"Alright, just try to be quick."
"Rosmerta, you can come over here and sit for a while."
Fudge suddenly said, and then those turquoise high heels turned in their direction. Fudge sighed, "Without the Dementors, this is the best we can do to protect everyone from a greater threat... You know, we all know what Blake is capable of..."
"Alright... You know, I still find it hard to believe."
Madam Rosmerta pondered, "Of all the people who supported the Dark Magic Influence, Sirius Black was the last person I'd expect... I mean, I remember how he was when he was at Hogwarts. If you told me then what he'd become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."
They had returned to their table at this point, and Fudge lowered his voice, speaking gruffly, "You only know half of it, Rosmerta, very few people know the worst he's done."
"The worst?"
Madam Rosmerta asked curiously, "You mean worse than killing so many innocent people?"
"You said you remember how he was at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," suddenly, Professor McGonagall said quietly, "Then do you remember who his best friend was?"
"Of course," Madam Rosmerta laughed lightly, "Never saw the two apart, did you? Those few times they came here—oh, they made me laugh so hard, like a double act, Sirius Black, and... James Potter!"
"Clang—"
The large goblet slipped from Harry's hands and hit the ground with a loud sound, and Ron kicked him.
...
...
"... Cornelius, if you want to have dinner with the headmaster, you'd better head back to the castle now," Professor McGonagall said.
Finally, the pairs of feet in front of Harry each raised to support the weight of their owners, the hem of their robes swaying into his view. Madam Rosmerta's glittering high heels disappeared behind the bar again, the door of the Three Broomsticks opened once more, and wind and snow swept in again, leaving the professors unseen.
"Harry?"
Ron, Hermione, and Neville's faces appeared under the table, the four of them staring blankly at each other, not knowing what to say.