“Harry, could I speak to you?”

“Why of course, Minister.”

Hermione let the door fall closed behind her. “Please. Let go the formality.”

“What is it?” Harry motioned to the chair in front of his Auror’s desk.

She blew a strand of fuzzy hair from her forehead. “I’m worried. I’m wondering if you recall what it was like—way back to when Voldemort first came back. Do you remember?”

Harry brought a hand up and rubbed his forehead reflexively. It had been paining him more and more of late. “No, why?”

“Now that we’ve eliminated all the pro-pureblood laws, I’ve had more time to monitor the Muggle situation. And I’m worried. I believe certain politicians are acting under the Imperious Curse.”

“How can that be?”

“Think about it. Rising intolerance. Increase of fascism. Brexit.”

Harry sat back, nodding thoughtfully. “What do you think we should do?”

Hermione smiled. “Fix it. Don’t you think? We’ve fixed worse problems, you and I.”

—

160 words

This has been an edition of What Pegman Saw. To read more stories inspired by the prompt, click here. My apologies for going over the 150-word limit. I couldn’t resist this bit of fan fiction. Now I see why the later Harry Potter books turned into massive epic sagas. I found it hard to trim words!