"Stay with his aunt and uncle each year to remain safe. What does that mean exactly?"
Madam Bones looked between Bryan and Dumbledore in confusion; her sharp eyes were moving from one face to the other. Though understanding appeared on her stern face almost immediately—she was, after all, one of the most brilliant minds in the Ministry.
"If this is something I'm not meant to know—" she began, already preparing to withdraw.
"Oh, it's nothing that needs to be kept strictly secret anymore, Amelia. At least, not at this stage anymore," Dumbledore said looking ready to unburden something.
"When Voldemort fell fourteen years ago, I foresaw that he would one day return and that when he did, he would inevitably set his sights on Harry, the boy who had thwarted him, the child who had survived the Killing Curse.
To protect Harry from that inevitable confrontation, I used an ancient piece of magic. So long as Harry lives each year with a blood relative, the enchantment provides him with powerful protection. Protection that places him beyond Voldemort's reach while he remains under that roof."
"Ah." Madam Bones nodded slowly, understanding now fully.
She looked at Dumbledore with genuine admiration and a hint of awe. "I see now. There was no small amount of controversy in the wizarding world when you placed Harry Potter in the care of Muggles—people questioned your judgment quite outspokenly. But, Bryan—"
Her gaze shifted sharply to him. "Why did you ask about this?"
"That is precisely what I find myself wondering as well," Dumbledore said.
His silver beard stirred in the breeze as he observed Bryan with grave attention.
"As you are both aware," Bryan replied, his tone was slow, "the words Kingsley overheard make it abundantly plain that Fudge intends to act against Harry in some way. Given the current state of affairs—the political disaster he's facing—that is hardly surprising. The Azkaban breakout has left him with no satisfactory explanation for the wizarding world, and his options for damage control are precious few. Misdirection is, without question, the most convenient and effective of them."
'Misdirection.'
The word hung in the air between them.
Madam Bones' brow furrowed slightly, creating deep lines. "You believe Cornelius intends to manufacture a story around Harry Potter—to draw public attention away from the breakout? Use the boy as a scapegoat?"
"You know what Cornelius is likely to do, don't you, Bryan?" Dumbledore asked softly.
Bryan met Dumbledore's grave gaze directly. He neither lied nor answered plainly.
"That's beside the point, Headmaster." His voice remained perfectly calm.
"Fudge could never be so reckless as to have Harry assassinated. But let us suppose he does intend to use Harry as a crucial point for public attention. Given how desperate their position is, given the magnitude of their failure, I imagine whatever plan the Ministry is devising will come to fruition soon—perhaps as early as tomorrow morning."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"That will inevitably disturb Harry's quiet summer, will it not?" Bryan continued, watching the same crease form between Dumbledore's white brows. "And here is what concerns me: Voldemort has just won a significant victory with the Azkaban breakout. What is to stop him from pressing his advantage while Harry is vulnerable?"
Silence settled over Dumbledore and Amelia both like a heavy blanket. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of lake water against the shore and the distant calls of birds.
They understood what Bryan was saying with perfect clarity now. The pieces were falling into place.
Objectively speaking, from a purely political standpoint, making a public spectacle of Harry was a shrewd move for Fudge. Given the catastrophic scale of the Ministry's blunder, the worst security failure in living memory—there were precious few stories capable of pulling public attention away from it. And anything involving the famous Harry Potter would unquestionably do so. The Boy Who Lived was always news.
If the Ministry were to detain Harry on some pretext, hold him for questioning, make it as public and dramatic as possible, and Voldemort were to see that window as an opportunity to strike while the boy was exposed—
The thought was unfinished in all their minds, too terrible to complete aloud.
"Harry only needs to spend a single night in that house as a member of the Dursley family for the protective magic to remain valid for another full year, Bryan," Dumbledore said at last.
After a long silence filled with unspoken calculations, Dumbledore spoke.
"Then I will write to the Dursleys at once and inform them that their nephew will be arriving early to spend the holidays—or at least the beginning of them." Bryan was decisive, his mind was clearly made up. "Tonight. Before anyone at the Ministry can move. I will escort Harry home myself, personally."
"Tonight?" Madam Bones raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You believe Cornelius will move as soon as tomorrow? That's remarkably fast."
"Time is the most valuable thing he has right now," Bryan said.
Something flickered in his eyes.
"Every hour that passes, the pressure on him rises. Fudge is not fool enough to march a group of Aurors into Hogwarts to physically drag Harry out—that would only humiliate him further and turn Dumbledore into an open enemy.
But if he dispatches an official letter to Hogwarts first thing tomorrow morning, concocting some pretext demanding that Harry present himself to the Ministry for questioning the moment term ends, and then has him held for as long as possible, all while making the entire affair as public as possible through leaks to the press, the entire wizarding world's eyes will turn toward Harry.
The Daily Prophet will have a field day. Voldemort will learn of it within hours, if not minutes. And we can hardly send Harry back to his aunt and uncle's for a protective stay after he's been summoned for official questioning, can we?"
Bryan had laid bare his concern clearly. But Dumbledore, with his century of experience reading people, could see that Bryan was keeping something else concealed beneath it.
"I agree with your proposal, Bryan," Dumbledore said after a moment of pondering, stroking his beard.
"One night is all that is needed. The protection will hold for another year once that requirement is met. Harry will be safe until next summer, at least from direct magical attack."
Bryan gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. His gaze moved deliberately to Amelia, and the cold, razor-edged quality of his presence—the faint aura of controlled danger that clung to him made even her, seasoned Auror that she was, instinctively wary.
"The Death Eaters who broke out of Azkaban owe the wizarding world an answer for their crimes," Bryan said, his voice taking on a harder edge. "Allowing Voldemort to expand his forces unchecked, to gather strength while we sit idle, is hardly appropriate strategic thinking."
He paused, and his eyes returned to Dumbledore with intensity. "My position remains unchanged, Headmaster. None of us want a repeat of last time—years of guerrilla war hanging over the wizarding world like a perpetual storm, doing nothing but reacting defensively to the darkness as it pushes against us, letting it dictate the terms. Playing defense while people die.
If war cannot be avoided then let us be decisive about it.
Let us set the terms."
Bryan left with long strides—he had a letter to write to the Dursleys. It was unlikely the Dursleys had forgotten who he was after his last visit. The name Watson was one they knew well enough.
Dumbledore and Amelia remained by the lake, standing in silence, watching his tall figure retreat toward the castle.
Neither spoke for a moment.
"What Bryan intends to do," Amelia said at last, breaking the silence after a long, hesitant moment, "is more than just dealing with the Death Eaters, I suspect."
"Oh? And what do you believe he intends, Amelia?" Dumbledore asked.
His expression revealed little surprise at her observation. He simply asked, genuinely curious about her assessment.
"I once spoke with Bryan at length about the state of the wizarding world,"
A distant look crossed Amelia's stern face, her eyes went bleary as she recalled the conversation.
"The conversation left me deeply unsettled. I could see plainly that he was dissatisfied with much of it—which was not, in itself, strange or unusual. A wizard of his ability, and Muggle-born besides—of course he would see the flaws clearly.
What struck me as odd, what I couldn't understand, was this: throughout that entire conversation, I sensed no burning desire in him to change the wizarding world. That seemed deeply inconsistent—for someone of his gifts, someone who is so clearly driven and ambitious."
She turned to look at Dumbledore directly, her eyes were clouded with unease. "But now I think I understand. He was never indifferent to the wizarding world's slow decay and corruption. He was simply waiting for the right moment."
Dumbledore fell quiet, his eyes were on the darkening horizon.
"Do you think we should support him, Albus?" Amelia asked.
Amelia folded her hands together, her gaze was searching and troubled.
"If the reforms Bryan intends to set in motion strike at the very foundations of Britain's Wizarding World—"
"Forgive me for saying so, Amelia," Dumbledore replied, and there was the faintest movement at the corner of his mouth, "but change that does not touch the foundations is hardly reform at all."
The sun hung low in the west, sinking steadily toward the horizon like something being pulled down. Its red light spilled across the vast Black Lake, staining the water the color of blood, as though heralding the storm of violence yet to come.
"You mean to say—" Amelia's brow rose in surprise. "That you would support him? Support Bryan in whatever he's planning?"
"Oh, heh heh—"
Dumbledore laughed softly, a weathered sound that deepened the lines of his aged face.
"Amelia, you must understand something: whether we choose to support him matters very little to Bryan himself. Even if we stood against him openly, he would simply wait patiently until the day we were no longer able to stop him.
And so, I would rather he begin moving now, while we can still see what he is doing, while we're still here to witness it. Because if any of his steps become too extreme, if he goes too far, I can at least still counsel him."
"That sounds as though—" Amelia pressed her lips together into a thin line.
A cold feeling was creeping through her chest like ice water in her veins.
"As though you believe Bryan's impact on the wizarding world will be greater than even Voldemort's."
"That," said Dumbledore very quietly, his gaze falling to the shimmering blood-red water that reflected the dying sun, "is very nearly certain. Perhaps inevitable."
A long, slow breath escaped him, drifting away into the fading light.
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