Scrimgeour loudly cleared his throat, "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will." Harry, Mikayla, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another. "A surprise, apparently! You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?" Scrimgeour almost smiled at the news, "A-all of us? Me and Hermione too?" Ron asked, not being subtle about his surprise and confusion. "Yes, all of y-" Harry quickly interrupted to distract the Minister from what Ron had said. "Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione cut in before Scrimgeour could even open his mouth to answer, "they wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!" Her voice trembled as anger began to bubble within her, "I had every right," Scrimgeour stated sitting forward, hoping it would assert his dominance over the four seventeen year-olds. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power the confiscate the contents of a will-" Mikayla quickly cut him off saying that the law he was referring to was to stop wizards from passing on Dark artefacts.
"And the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?" Hermione questioned barely holding in her anger. "Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" Scrimgeour asked with a smug grin, "No, I'm not," Hermione retorted immediately, "because I'm planning on doing some good in the world!" Mikayla and Ron laughed. Both of them feeling proud of Hermione's dismissal of authority in response to the Minister's manipulative tactics.
Scrimgeour's eyes flickered toward them, disapproval evident in his scowl, "so why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can't think of a pretext to keep them?" Harry questioned summoning the Minister's gaze upon him once again. "No, it'll be because thirty-one days are up," Mikayla answered for the Minister. "They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous." She explained to Harry, before wearing her own smug grin as she turned towards the Minister, "Isn't that right, Minister?"
"Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?" Scrimgeour questioned completely ignoring Mikayla's words. He seemed to have decided that Ron would be the easiest person to get information out of, because he has the most amount of risk. If Ron protests the Minister too much, his father's job could be on the line and that's the last thing any of them would want to happen. "Me? No, not really... It was always Harry and Mikayla who..." Ron looked around at his friends, all of them sending him a stop talking now look.
It was too late, the damage had been done and Scrimgeour looked as though he had heard exactly what he had expected, and wanted, to hear. "If you weren't very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions, his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects, were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?"
Ron was beginning to become flustered "I dunno, I, when I say we weren't close, I just meant, I think he liked me..." Ron trailed off, his face turning bright red as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. "You're just being modest, Ron. Dumbledore was very fond of you, of all of us." Hermione cut in to prevent the train from catching fire after that horrific crash. "This is honestly ridiculous." Mikayla scoffed as she sunk back into the sofa, baiting Scrimgeour, who fell right into her trap.
"What do you mean by that, Black?" He grinned, "what I meant that it's absolutely ridiculous that the Minister of Magic is sitting here, doing a will reading, acting as if there isn't a literal serial killer/cult leader on the loose. You've been locked up in your office for weeks, under the ruse of planning the demise of Voldemort. When in reality you were looking for hidden meanings or messages in Dumbledore's bequests! It's absolute insanity." Mikayla proclaimed, shaking her head in utter disbelief which clearly rubbed the Minister the wrong way.
Scrimgeour put his hand inside his cloak and drew out a drawstring pouch, muttering under his breath as he threw glares in the foursome's direction. Mikayla had the nerve to smile at him as he finally removed a scroll of parchment from the bag. "This is the 'The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore'. To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator. A device of my own making, in the hope that when things seem most dark, it will show him the light."
Scrimgeour took something that looked like a silver cigarette lighter out of his bag, but they all knew that it had the power to suck all light from a place, and restore it, with a just simple click. Scrimgeour slowly leaned forward and passed the Deluminator to Ron, who took it and turned it over in the fingers in amazement. "That is a valuable object," Scrimgeour began, his glued on Ron for any hint of whatever he was looking for. "It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you and item so rare?" Ron shook his head, looking completely bewildered, but knew better than to give the Minister any verbal response.
"Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students," Scrimgeour persevered. "Yet the only ones he remembered in his will are you four. Why is that?" Mikayla moved forward in her seat, "well, maybe it's the fact that we were the only ones that publicly backed him up when your lot tried to convince the public that he was an senile attention-seeking old man for claiming that Voldemort was back." Mikayla offered as if she was ready to list out many other reasons, the Minister raised his hand as a way to shut her up.
Scrimgeour decided to continue question Ron, asking him what use did he think Dumbledore expected him to use the Deluminator for. "Put out lights, I s'pose," Ron mumbled quietly, "what else could I do with it?" Scrimgeour didn't answer, as he had no suggestions for other use the Deluminator might have. He squinted at Ron for a moment, as if he was trying to calculate what Ron's body language would give away that his mouth wasn't, before turning back to Dumbledore's will and clearing his throat.
"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." Scrimgeour pulled out a small book that looked as ancient as the copy of Secrets of the Darkest Art that was hidden in the pile of books upstairs. Its binding was stained and peeling in places, and Hermione took it from Scrimgeour carefully without a word. She settled the book in her lap, quietly gazing at it before a tear splashed onto the embossed symbols.
"Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?" Scrimgeour asked, ignoring the fact that Hermione visibly upset. Tears began to roll down Hermione's cheeks as she told the Minister that Dumbledore knew about her love for literature, "but why that particular book? It is a children's book." Mikayla was the one to answer this one too. "Maybe he thought, I dunno, that Hermione would like the book. Or because it's a wizarding children's book, Hermione wouldn't have come across it in her childhood and perhaps he felt that she was missing out."
Scrimgeour hummed lowly, he didn't believe a word Mikayla had said, as it didn't feel like a valid reason to leave a bequest at all. "Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?" Scrimgeour continued the interrogation on theory behind Dumbledore's gift to Hermione. "No, I didn't," Hermione exclaimed at the prosperous idea while still wiping her eyes on her sleeve. At this point, Mikayla realised that it wasn't all an act, that there was some part of Hermione was genuinely mourning Dumbledore's death.
"And if the Ministry hasn't found any hidden codes in this book in thirty-one days, I doubt that I will." As Hermione suppressed a sob, Mikayla looked at her hands in shame as she hadn't realised that Dumbledore's death had effected her friends so much. They didn't have a close relationship with the Headmaster, they rarely saw the ugliness behind his actions but they still saw him as a friend. And she's been a horrible friend for not letting them voice any form of mourning Dumbledore's death.
The more she thought about it, Mikayla supposed that a part of herself grieved the ex-headmaster too. It was a childish naive part of herself, that felt remorse for the man that guided her and her friends in saving her father from a soulless faith. The man who saved Harry's life in the Ministry Atrium when Voldemort first showed up. The good doesn't outweigh the bad, quite the opposite really, but a tiny part of her, knew that Dumbledore was trying to be the man he pretended to be. However, she kept this all to herself, no need to dive into all that in front of the Minister.
Scrimgeour turned back to the will when Ron put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, after a little difficulty due to the fact that they are wedged together on the small sofa, an clear his throat uncomfortably. "To Mikayla Alina Black, I leave my copy of Sonnets of a Sorcerer, as a reminder of the power behind her words, and how to use them accordingly to achieve her goals." Scrimgeour held the red book out towards Mikayla, who took it with a sad smile on her face. Her fingers caress the spine of the book, and her heart felt a little heavier at the moment.
"And-" Mikayla's head shot up in surprise to look at the Minister, as she was getting a second bequest, "my Silver Crown Key, as a reminder that to unlock her true potential, she must believe in her intelligence and intuition, and allow them guide her to the prize of life." Scrimgeour pulled a silver skeleton key from his bag, the bow of the key was in the shape of a crown. There was four diamonds encrusted into the crown, Mikayla quietly decided that the number reflected her and her friends.
Mikayla accepted the key, smiling softly she took in the whole sight of it. "Why do you think Dumbledore left you these two items, Mikayla?" Mikayla looked down at the two items, "There's a poem in here called Crown by Charles Sangster. It was Mam's favourite, she used to tell me that I was the angel that brought her heaven on earth. Her very own miracle..." Mikayla sniffled as she remembered after she was bullied by a few Muggle girls she went to primary school with. She was so distraught and believed every word they said about her. Enya hated seeing her daughter that way, so she transfigured her hairband into a crown and read her that poem.
"What does he mean by the prize of life?" Scrimgeour questioned, his eyes glued on the key in Mikayla's hand. "Life glows like a sun, Love's zenith is won, and Joy is sole monarch again. The prize of life is love and happiness, they rule above all else." Mikayla answered quoting the poem, it did seem like a very Dumbledore message to pass on. Scrimgeour stared at Mikayla with a searching look, as she continued to stare at the objects with a sentimental smile and tears swimming in her eyes. She didn't let them fall, or blink them away, she just let them float in her waterline, in the in-between.
"What is the key for, Black? What does it open?" Mikayla shrugged her shoulders in ignorance, she truly didn't know. "But you must know! Why else would he bother leaving it to you?" Scrimgeour asked, moving forward in his seat to look deep into Mikayla's eyes. "Perhaps it doesn't open anything, Minister, and is merely symbolic. He did after all say that it was as a reminder that unlock my true potential, I have to believe in my intelligence and intuition, and let them guide me to the prize of life. Which we've established are love and happiness."
Mikayla watched as the Minister clenched his fist, as if he was restraining himself from striking her. She raised a questioning eyebrow at the Minister, who just cleared his throat and raised the parchment in front of his face again. "To Harry James Potter," Scrimgeour continued on, knowing that Mikayla wasn't going to give him any more. "I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill." As Scrimgeour pulled out the tiny, walnut-sized golden ball, its silver wings fluttered rather feebly, Mikayla felt Harry's shoulder sag in disappointment.
"Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?" Scrimgeour asked, holding the snitch in front of Harry. "No idea... For the reasons you just read out, I suppose, to remind me what you can get if you persevere and whatever it was." Harry answered, confused as to why Scrimgeour hadn't handed him the snitch yet. "You think this a mere symbolic keepsake, then? Just like Mikayla's key?" Scrimgeour questioned with obvious disagreement in his tone, "I suppose so, what else could it be?" Harry shrugged, "I'm asking the questions." Scrimgeour spat shifting his chair a little closer to the sofa, his patience wearing thin with the uncooperative seventeen year-olds.