Ficool

Chapter 48 - Chapter 48 McGonagall Looked at Dumbledore: Have We All Been Educated?

[Note: Read up to Chapter - 98 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]

.

.

.

.

Aris rested his hands on the wooden desk, which reached almost to his chest, and looked earnestly at Dumbledore. The two locked eyes for what must've been over a minute.

"I reckon what you've said deserves some serious thought," Dumbledore finally murmured, gently adjusting the half-moon spectacles perched on his nose. He broke eye contact, stood up, and began pacing slowly behind the desk.

"Headmaster," Aris said, settling back in his chair and taking another sip of black tea, "we've still got plenty of time to discuss all this, haven't we?"

Dumbledore paused and turned back toward him. "Yes, perhaps so. But for now, I think we can wrap things up. If you'd like to return to your dormitory and get acquainted with your roommates, you're free to go."

"There's one more thing, Headmaster," Aris added after a moment, a familiar glint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Oh?" Dumbledore raised a brow, peering over his glasses with a knowing look. "Go on, then."

"If it's not too much trouble, could you give me authorisation for the Restricted Section of the library? I've heard there are some rather interesting books in there—ones that might actually be worth reading."

Dumbledore's expression shifted again, this time somewhere between intrigue and exasperation.

"Mr. Shafiq," he said slowly, "you do realise those books are restricted for a reason? Some of them aren't suitable for first-years—or for anyone, really. There's dangerous knowledge in there."

"You mean like the recipe for Polyjuice Potion?" Aris replied, his tone light but unmistakably cheeky. "Because I'm fairly sure that same book's available to anyone with a few galleons at Flourish and Blotts."

Dumbledore gave a long sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching. He couldn't quite hide his amusement—nor could he work out how on earth Aris knew such specific details about the library's collection.

"By the way, what was the name of that book again? Something like Powerful Potions, wasn't it?"

"Alright, I think it's just about time for a bit of rest. It's rather rude to keep an old man up past his bedtime," Dumbledore said with a weary sigh, rubbing his temples as though the boy had given him a migraine.

"And about the authorisation—" Aris pressed on, unwilling to give up just yet.

He had been looking forward to exploring the Restricted Section at Hogwarts for quite some time now.

"We'll talk about it later," Dumbledore replied, raising a brow. "If you manage to earn top marks in all your subjects and win the favour of your professors, I'll give it some serious thought. But as for now…"

"Don't even think about it!"

With a flick of his hand, Dumbledore gave a gentle wave.

Aris suddenly felt weightless, like he was being lifted by an invisible current, and the next thing he knew, he was hovering near the door of the headmaster's office.

"Oh, and do close the door on your way out—cheers!"

Aris: "..."

Seeing the unshakeable expression on Dumbledore's face, he could only let out a resigned sigh and shake his head. Then he stepped out and gently closed the office door behind him.

Bit too eager there, maybe…

It was clear the legendary white wizard needed some time to digest everything from their little chat.

Still, no matter. Aris had time on his side.

He stretched his arms lazily and strolled down the corridor with unhurried ease.

Roughly two minutes later, another figure approached the headmaster's door.

Professor McGonagall stood still for a moment, glancing in the direction Aris had gone. After a brief hesitation, she muttered the statue's password and stepped inside, her heart a swirl of uncertainty.

"Minerva," came Dumbledore's voice from within, tinged with fatigue, "if I'm not mistaken, aren't you supposed to be checking the dormitories right about now?"

"Why? Has something happened?" Dumbledore's voice drifted out from within, tinged with fatigue.

"Albus, you don't look too well," McGonagall observed keenly, noting the slight furrow in his brow.

"It's nothing," he replied, rubbing his temple. "I was just speaking with Mr. Shafiq… and thinking over a few things."

He recalled Aris's calm demeanour upon entering the office, and the words he'd spoken—words that, if uttered beyond these walls, could very well throw the wizarding world into chaos.

The headache only grew worse.

"It seems," McGonagall said quietly, her lips tightening slightly, "that Mr Potter isn't the one you're most concerned about this year?"

Her voice carried a trace of weariness. "Or perhaps we've all just been outclassed by a first-year."

Dumbledore gave her a long look, equal parts amused and resigned. "Minerva…"

Then he changed tack, his eyes twinkling again with curiosity. "I'm more interested in how you plan to explain the nature of magic to that boy."

"He's still waiting for your answer, you know."

"Oh, do stop teasing me," McGonagall sighed, offering a bitter smile. Her tone was more defeated than defensive. "That's actually why I came here. I thought—with all your knowledge, and your deep research into the nature of magic—you might have something I could pass along… just enough to satisfy him and be done with it."

"Otherwise, he really will keep badgering me."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," Dumbledore said, spreading his hands. "Even the most ancient scholars, the greatest spell crafters the wizarding world has known… none of them have given a truly satisfactory answer to that question."

"I suggest you take some time to pick up the books again and give them a proper look," Dumbledore said gently.

"But I'm afraid I can't just split myself in two to manage school duties and go poring over dusty tomes," Professor McGonagall replied with a small frown.

"You'll find the balance eventually. I've every confidence in you, Minerva."

Noting the increasingly evasive tone in Dumbledore's voice, McGonagall realised there was little point pressing further. She pursed her lips, then gave a reluctant nod.

"Perhaps a few quiet afternoons in the library wouldn't go amiss…"

With that, she cast Dumbledore one last glance. When he didn't respond, she turned and left the headmaster's office in silence.

What neither of them realised—at least not yet—was just what it would mean for Hogwarts if Minerva McGonagall truly threw herself into her research.

But right now, Dumbledore hardly had the clarity to dwell on such things.

Aris had left him with far too many thoughts—some enlightening, others troubling. And some stirred old memories better left untouched.

After McGonagall's departure, Dumbledore slowly opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a worn envelope. The letter inside had clearly been read more than once.

Still, he opened it again, studying the familiar handwriting. Just a single line:

"Time is a wonderful thing."

Dumbledore stared at the words, his expression growing distant, as though lost in memories of a time long past.

Only the soft cry of Fawkes the phoenix outside the window brought him back to the present.

With a quiet sigh, he murmured to himself, "Perhaps… it's time I paid you a visit, old friend."

.

.

.

.

Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!

[Note: Read up to Chapter - 98 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]

More Chapters