I'm Not Perfect | Seamus Finnigan

The Will of Albus Dumbledore

Hermione, Fred, George, Riley, and I went quietly into Ron, Seamus, and Harry's room, trying to hold our laughter. Fred and George held one of their newst inventions over Harry's bed, and pulled the cord. Confetti exploded out of the box accompanied by a loud banging noise -- as if someone had shot of a Filibuster Firework. Harry jumped out of bed with a start and we all roared with laughter.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!" we all called in unison.

Seamus and Ron were up to, scrambling up to their feet, for they had fallen off their beds in surprise. "I almost forgot it was my birthday!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, it is! Mrs. Weasley has baked an amazing snitch cake downstairs! Go check it out!" I insisted.

We all left the room and went down to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was looking around.

"I think we'd better start without Arthur," she said. "He must have been held up at -- oh!"

A streak of light came flying across the yard, into the house and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.

"Minister of Magic coming with me."

The patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving us all to stare at the place it had vanished.

"The Minister -- but why --? I don't understand --" Harry began.

But wasn't able to finish for Mr. Weasley had appeared out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour (The Minister of Magic).

They walked across the yard and into the house, where Scrimgeour said, "Sorry to intrude. Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party."

"I require a word with Mr. Harry Potter. As well as with Mr. Ron Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, Miss Emma Torrett, and Mr. Seamus Finnigan."

"Us?" Ron asked, "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private." Scrimgeour explained.

Mr. Weasley led us to the Burrow's sitting room, and left. We all sat down on the couch.

"i am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will."

We all looked at each other.

"A surprise, apparently! You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?"

"A-all of us?" Ron asked. "Not just Harry?"

"Yes, all of --"

Harry interrupted. "Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione said. "They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!"

"I had every right." he said. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will --"

"That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts." I said this time, "and the MInistry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possesions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Torrett?" Scrimgeour asked.

"No, I'm not." I retorted. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"

"So why have you decided to give us our things now? Can't think of a pretext to keep them?"

"No, it'll be because the thirty-one days are up," Hermione said, "They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous."

Scrimgeour unrolled a scroll of parchment and read aloud "'The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore' . . . Yes, here we are. . . 'To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.;"

Scrumgeour took something from the bag and handed it to Ron, who took it and looked at it, stunned.

"'To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of "The Tales of Beedle the Bard" in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'"

He handed a her a rather old looking book, and she turned it around in her hands.

" 'To Emma Brai Torrett, I leave this enchanted compass, in the hopes that if she's ever lost, she can find her way to what matters most.' "

He handed me a compass that was attached to a chain as if it were a pocket watch. For now, it remained motionless, even when I moved it. Then again, I guess I'm not lost.

" 'To Seamus Devon Finnigan, I leave his D.A. coin he had lost, to remind him of his best and strongest memories.' "

"And Finally, 'To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.' "

"Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?" Scrimgeour asked.

"No idea." Harry said.

"You think this is a mere sybolic keepsake, then?"

"I suppose so," Harry said, "What else could it be?"

"Dumbledore had left you something else."

"What?" we all asked in unison.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor. However, that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artifact and as such belongs --"

"It belongs to Harry!" Hermione shouted. "It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat --"

"According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor. That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided. Why do you think --?"

"--Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?" asked Harry, trying to keep his temper. "Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall."

"This is not a joke, Potter!" he growled. "Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Interesting theory," Harry said. "Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So is this what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch? People are dying -- I was nearly one of them -- Voldemort chased me across three counties, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there's been no word about any of them from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to coorperate with you!"

"You go too far!" Scrimgeour shouted, standing up, poking Harry in the chest with his wand.

"Hey!" I shouted, reaching for my own.

"No! D'you want to give him an exuse to arrest us?" Hermione shouted.

"Remembered you're not t school, have you?" Scrimgeour seethed. "Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!"

I stood now, pushing Scrimgeour's wand away from Harry's chest. "It's time you earned it." I spat.