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Anthony found himself speechless for a moment. Fortunately, Dumbledore smoothly changed the subject. "I imagine your next question would be: when I agreed to let Dolores into Hogwarts, was I aware of the impact she would have on the school?"
"I hadn't quite gotten to that question yet," Anthony laughed. "But since we're on the subject, Sir, perhaps you could just tell me the answer?"
Dumbledore pondered. "I think my answer is… uncertain. If you ask me whether I knew Dolores was a self-serving, opportunistic person, I could tell you I was indeed aware of that. But that does not mean I knew what she would bring to Hogwarts. Some might despise her. Some might admire her. Some might see her and think to themselves, 'I must never become a witch or wizard like that.' Others might think, 'She needs to be more forceful, more subtle.' Ah, Henry, if the past has taught us anything, it is that some futures are simply unpredictable."
Anthony asked, puzzled, "Then… why did you agree to let her into the school in the first place? I'm not questioning you," he added immediately, "but I know Minerva would certainly ask you that."
"And I have already answered her," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I shall give you the same answer: Hogwarts has never aimed to let its students live inside The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Just as Beedle never shied away from death, disease, or dangerous magic, we do not shy away from greed, prejudice, unreasonableness, or the abuse of power. Tea?"
"But… but weren't you worried?"
"Worried about what?"
"Worried that students would be harmed. Or, as you said, that they might start admiring her, resolve to become more… more Umbridge."
Dumbledore's smile faded slightly. "And that is precisely why she is gone now. Why I changed my mind." He tapped the table lightly with the tip of his wand. A crystal-clear kettle appeared out of thin air on the desk. "I permitted her to walk into Hogwarts. I might even have permitted her to wander the castle, inspect classes, and question professors—if only to put Cornelius at ease. But she was not permitted to harm my students."
The curtains fluttered. The gift boxes and portraits blocking the stove flew aside, clearing a path for the kettle. With a soft click, the kettle settled onto the stove and began boiling water of its own accord.
Anthony watched him perform the whole sequence with fluid grace before speaking. "What about the admiration part, then? I mean, aside from Mr. Filch, there must have been others… inspired by her."
"Inspiration is not inherently a bad thing, Henry," Dumbledore said, sounding somewhat surprised. "However, I understand your meaning. Let me put it this way: I personally believe that if someone, under the influence of Minerva, Filius, Pomona, and Severus—I could list a long series of names, including you and myself—still believes Dolores to be the most inspiring role model…"
Anthony frowned.
Dumbledore said slyly, "Then we might say that person is not particularly bright."
Anthony hesitated, then pointed out, "I thought Hogwarts wasn't a school just for the bright."
"Indeed, Henry, indeed!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Some have even told me that school is not for the bright at all. However, those who consider themselves clever are often merely superior to others in one specific area. In other matters, that same person may remain quite foolish. Nicolas is an impeccable alchemist, but his arithmetic is dreadful. On the other hand, my brother Aberforth has likely never quite grasped the intricacies of runes, but I hear he runs his little business quite well—though, of course, it might be because he has yet to learn proper bookkeeping and thus erroneously claims he's doing splendidly—"
Anthony offered an example. "My Necromancy is quite decent, but I still don't truly understand how it works."
"I think you grasp my meaning, Henry," Dumbledore said, beaming. "Like Alchemy, Arithmetic, or Runes, Dolores is a subject. Some are adept at it; some are less so. Regardless, when the school has the chance to offer such a course, it should seize the opportunity to let students see it for themselves, rather than worry that some might receive a 'P' or a 'D'."
"And what about those who do get a 'P' or a 'D'?" Anthony asked. "Those who attached themselves to Umbridge?"
Dumbledore smiled and countered, "If a student received a 'P' on a Muggle Studies test, what would you say to them, my professor?"
Anthony thought for a moment, then also smiled. "Try again next time."
…
The water boiled. Dumbledore directed the kettle to pour water into a plump, round teapot.
"Speaking of Madam Umbridge," Anthony said, "is there anything we can do about the grades of the Muggle-born students?"
Dumbledore produced two patterned teacups from somewhere. The teapot poured a cup for each of them. The rain seemed to have lessened slightly but still tapped steadily against the windowpanes.
"I sent an owl to the Wizarding Examinations Authority this evening," Dumbledore said. "Though I doubt how much good it will do. The Authority is known for its stubbornness and inflexibility, qualities from which it derives its reputation for fairness."
Anthony took a sip of the scalding hot tea, feeling his body relax a little.
"But we can't just accept such unfair results, can we?"
"If the Examinations Authority refuses to amend the grades or allow retakes—and they most likely will—I'm afraid we may have to accept the results as they stand," Dumbledore said.
"But—"
"However," Dumbledore raised a hand, indicating he hadn't finished, "that does not mean we can do nothing. If things proceed as we expect, I shall propose administering final exams for the fifth and seventh years. Hogwarts can vouch for the validity and rigor of their final grades. And, when necessary, the other professors and I will provide letters of recommendation for those who need them. I suspect that might compensate for some of the unfairness."
Anthony murmured, "I suppose it might."
Nearly the entire British wizarding world were Hogwarts graduates. Even setting aside Dumbledore's influence, a formal, earnest letter of recommendation from a Head of House alone could serve as an "Alohomora" to countless doors.
Just then, Anthony remembered something. "Wait, final exams for the fifth and seventh years? Including Muggle Studies?"
Dumbledore said, "Unless, without my being informed, every fifth and seventh year has dropped the course, I see no reason why Muggle Studies should be an exception."
"Mm… alright," Anthony said.
He pictured the other professors simply selecting and tweaking a few questions from past papers—really, what was the big difference between turning a plate into a mushroom and turning a basket into one? Meanwhile, he would forfeit all sleep for the next two weeks, meticulously balancing question distribution across the Muggle Studies chapters. He'd have to be careful not to copy any seemingly reasonable questions, because Professor Burbage would certainly remember them. He didn't want to look like a new professor who couldn't come up with good questions, even though it was true. He sighed quietly.
As if reading his thoughts, Dumbledore said, "And Charity will be responsible for all the questions."
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