[Note: Read up to Chapter - 107 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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"Severus, I think there might be a bit of a misunderstanding here."
Since the matter involved a Ravenclaw student, Dumbledore had summoned Professor Flitwick to the headmaster's office.
Upon hearing Snape's accusations, the small professor looked visibly taken aback.
"Mr. Shafiq is certainly a bit… different from the other students in class. But that's only because the course material is far behind his own self-study progress, so—"
Flitwick tried to defend his student, but as he continued, his voice faltered slightly.
Because, thinking it over, he realised something:
His brilliant student had indeed already mastered the entire first-year syllabus.
And if the boy were truly bored... skipping a lesson didn't seem that far-fetched.
"Yes, exactly!" Snape snapped. "Your star pupil is bunking off class because our carefully crafted lesson plans apparently can't keep pace with his brilliance!"
"But the worst part—he never informed any of the professors, and no one has a clue where he even went!"
"He even had the gall to claim the Headmaster had invited him for tea—what a feeble excuse!"
Snape's tone was biting, heavy with sarcasm.
Just then, a voice came from one of the portraits hanging on the wall of the office.
"The boy did come by, you know. Sat right here and had a proper cup of tea. So I wouldn't exactly call it a lie."
The professors turned towards the sound, momentarily stunned.
Then all eyes slowly shifted to Dumbledore.
"Well, I must say," said Dumbledore with a small chuckle, rubbing his forehead, "the boy certainly knows how to cover his bases… rather thorough for his age."
"This child... just casually wandered into the Headmaster's office like it were the library..." muttered Flitwick, clearly torn between pride and exasperation.
"It wasn't exactly breaking and entering," Professor McGonagall said with a touch of dry wit.
"After all, the password was given to him by Headmaster Dumbledore himself. Technically, it was a perfectly legitimate visit. The Headmaster just happened to be out at the time."
"I reckon that lad's quite the one-off," Hagrid finally said, voicing what he'd clearly been holding in for a while.
"So that's it then?" Snape replied, his tone icy. "You're all just going to let this slide? No consequences at all?"
"Now, now, Severus, don't be so quick to scowl," said Dumbledore with a calm smile, rising to his feet. His silver beard swayed gently as he moved.
"We must show a bit of leeway for students with such rare talent, wouldn't you agree?"
"If he truly finds the current curriculum a tad too basic, perhaps we ought to adjust his schedule to suit his pace."
"Filius already suggested as much, and Minerva agreed," he added, glancing toward the two.
"I trust you haven't had a change of heart?"
"Not at all," said Flitwick, nodding enthusiastically. "With his potential, individual tutoring is absolutely warranted."
Professor McGonagall didn't speak, but gave a curt nod of agreement.
All eyes now turned to Snape, the only one yet to weigh in.
And truthfully, as long as the heads of three Houses and the Headmaster were aligned, the rest of the staff would have little choice but to fall in step.
"If you're all dead set on this," Snape muttered darkly, "then there's little point in my objecting."
His expression remained thunderous—clearly, Aris missing his lesson still didn't sit well with him.
But the tone in the room made it clear that Dumbledore's decision had been made, and it wasn't up for debate.
"In that case, it's settled," Dumbledore said, his voice warm but firm.
"Wait—so he gets off scot-free?" Snape snapped. "No punishment whatsoever for bunking class?"
"If every student starts copying his behaviour, how on earth is Professor McGonagall meant to run the school? Have any of you considered the precedent this sets?"
Dumbledore turned to him, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Well then, Severus, what would you suggest?"
"At the very least, his family ought to be informed," Snape said tightly. "Let Mr. Shafiq reflect on his actions properly."
At that moment, Snape's voice faltered slightly, as though he'd just remembered something important.
"That is... assuming he has any family left," Professor McGonagall added quietly, almost to herself.
"Everyone knows Aris is the last of the Shafiq line," Hagrid chimed in, looking at Snape with a broad grin.
"Unless you'd like to act as his guardian and deliver the scolding yourself, Professor?"
Snape's face darkened even further, his expression now thunderous.
Professor Flitwick, meanwhile, sat ramrod straight, eyes darting between the others. He didn't dare utter a word, worried that the argument might turn in his direction.
After all, Aris was a Ravenclaw, and as Head of House, that made him partly accountable for the lad's behaviour.
If one were to dig deep into it, he certainly couldn't escape the blame.
"Alright, that's quite enough," Dumbledore interjected at last, bringing the tension down a notch.
"I'll speak to Mr. Shafiq myself about his new schedule. The rest of you need only make the necessary preparations."
"And don't fret about overloading him with tutoring. As we all know, he's rather… exceptional."
"A genius like him will have his own learning rhythm. Your job is simply to guide him through the more advanced bits—those puzzles that even seasoned wizards might find tricky. Say, topics about the essence of magic…"
Here, Dumbledore cast a knowing glance at Professor McGonagall and gave a mischievous wink.
The stern-faced professor's expression immediately tightened. Her lips thinned, and she gave the Headmaster a sharp look.
It didn't take much to guess her thoughts: she already knew Aris would come up with all manner of odd, complex questions—and now it seemed she'd be the one expected to answer them all.
She had a sudden and powerful feeling that she'd just stitched herself up.
"Don't worry, Albus, I'll be fully prepared," Flitwick said earnestly, breaking the silence.
After that, the others fell quiet.
Once they'd briefly discussed the logistics of the new tutoring arrangements, the meeting drew to a close.
After the professors had left, Dumbledore remained by the great window, gazing thoughtfully at the distant scenery, his brows furrowed once more.
In truth, from the very beginning, it hadn't been Aris who troubled him—not really.
Even with all the boy's talents and potential, he was still young. No matter how exceptional, one young wizard couldn't shake the foundations of the world. Not yet.
No, the old headmaster's concern lay elsewhere.
"Gellert Grindelwald…"
The name slipped softly from his lips, barely more than a whisper.
The real reason he'd been away from Hogwarts earlier that day was because he had travelled to Nurmengard Tower.
There, he had met an old friend he hadn't seen in quite some time: Gellert Grindelwald.
And so far, everything Aris had displayed—his brilliance, his vision, even his temperament—reminded Dumbledore far too much of that friend's youth.
It had made certain thoughts hard to ignore. So, he'd gone to speak to Grindelwald himself.
And the result had only deepened his concern.
"Has this boy's arrival rekindled your hopes?" he had asked Gellert.
Now, remembering the look on Grindelwald's face, Dumbledore gently rubbed his forehead.
It was unmistakable—utterly different from how the man had been in recent years.
In that brief moment, it was as if the vitality of the past had returned to Grindelwald, if only in a flicker.
Dumbledore had long known the truth: the tower didn't hold Gellert because he couldn't escape it.
No—there's no prison worse than the loss of purpose. The man had simply given up. His grand ambitions, his vision for the wizarding world… shattered. And with them, his will to move forward.
He had chosen to remain in that cell, awaiting the end.
But now—now the appearance of Aris had lit a spark in him again.
Dumbledore even suspected Grindelwald had known exactly why he had come before a word had been spoken.
It was as if he'd been waiting. Waiting for confirmation. Waiting… for something to believe in once more.
After all, no one could simply overlook Grindelwald's ability to peer into the future.
And that, precisely, was what troubled Dumbledore most.
He didn't even dare to imagine what might come of it—what kind of future the wizarding world might face—if Aris and Grindelwald ever came into contact.
The possibilities... even he couldn't foresee them all.
After a long silence, the old wizard let out a heavy sigh.
"Perhaps... it truly is time to hand the future over to someone better suited to lead it..."
"But before that, there are things that must be done."
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Hogwarts Castle Kitchens
"Mr Shafiq, thank you for your kind words! Do visit us again!"
A group of house-elves waved cheerily as Aris made his way out.
In just a short time, Aris had won them over entirely with his easy charm.
"Personal charm," one might call it—but in truth, it was mostly down to him devouring a hearty midnight snack and repeatedly praising the elves' cooking to high heaven.
Still, to the house-elves responsible for preparing Hogwarts' meals, that sort of praise was priceless.
"Thank you, everyone! I'll definitely drop by whenever I can," Aris said earnestly.
And he meant it.
With his current routine of studying and experimenting late into the night, this was far from his last visit. If anything, he was bound to become a regular.
Making friends with the kitchen elves in advance? Definitely a smart move.
After leaving the kitchens, Aris didn't wander off anywhere else. Instead, he made a beeline straight for Ravenclaw Tower.
It was already late, and after an afternoon filled with intense magical research, his mind was running on fumes.
What he needed now was proper rest.
"If all goes well tomorrow," he muttered to himself as he moved along the dimly lit corridor, "I should be able to apply for the classroom privileges..."
With that thought, he quietly made his way back to bed.
Just as Aris stepped into the West Tower, a familiar figure appeared before him.
Dumbledore.
The old headmaster looked as though he'd been waiting there for quite some time, smiling kindly at Aris, who was absentmindedly rubbing his stomach—clearly full from his midnight snack.
"Feeling satisfied after your little feast?" the professor asked, eyes twinkling.
"Er... yeah, it was alright," Aris replied automatically—then froze. "But how did you kno—"
He promptly shut his mouth.
Of course, Dumbledore knew. Eating in the kitchens in broad daylight might've been one thing, but sneaking in late at night? That was never going to go unnoticed.
And sure enough, what Dumbledore said next confirmed his suspicion.
"I stop by the kitchens from time to time for a few of my favourite treats, so I get on quite well with the elves," he said casually. "Just now, Tizzy told me a young wizard named Shafiq had a lot of nice things to say about their cooking. Apparently, it made their whole evening."
"I've a feeling that wizard might be you, Mr Shafiq?"
Aris chuckled awkwardly and nodded. "You really are sharp, Headmaster."
"Ingenious, was it? Now there's a curious compliment—I don't think I've heard that one before," Dumbledore mused with amusement. "But I'll take it kindly."
"Oh, it was definitely a compliment!" Aris raised his hand with mock solemnity, as though swearing an oath.
"Right then," said Dumbledore with a light chuckle. "Enough of the small talk. Time to get down to business."
Aris straightened slightly. "What business, Headmaster?" he asked, feigning wide-eyed innocence.
"Don't give me that look," Dumbledore replied, raising an eyebrow. "We've discussed your little... disappearance with the other professors. And we've decided not to take any disciplinary action."
At that, Aris let out a small breath of relief—though his nerves hadn't entirely settled just yet.
Because he still wasn't sure if there were others involved in the matter of Lin…
"What I want to discuss now," said Dumbledore, his smile never wavering, "is your new schedule."
"The professors have agreed—you'll be allowed to study independently from now on. You can bring any questions to the special one-on-one tutorials we've arranged for you."
"However, we do need to keep tabs on your progress…"
"So tomorrow, we'll be holding a test to assess how far along you are in your learning."
"Based on the results, we'll offer tailored advice and guidance going forward."
"Aris, does that sound reasonable to you?"
"No problem at all!" Aris replied quickly. "Sounds brilliant, actually!"
"Splendid." Dumbledore nodded, clearly pleased.
"Well then, now that we're all in agreement—you'd best get some rest."
"That's it?" Aris asked, blinking. "That's all?"
"Unless, of course," said Dumbledore, peering at him curiously, "there's something else you'd like to bring up?"
"No, no, nothing at all!" Aris answered at once, then gave a sheepish smile.
"Honestly, I just thought I was going to be punished for skipping class."
"To be fair, Professor Snape is rather cross about that," Dumbledore admitted with a shrug.
"Well, in that case…" Aris reached into his robe and pulled out a small bottle.
"This is a bottle of scabies potion I brewed this afternoon. Would you mind passing it on to Professor Snape for me?"
"I figure… it might cheer him up a little? At the very least, it shows I wasn't just bunking off."
Dumbledore glanced at the bottle and gave a nod of approval.
"A flawless batch. You made this today?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Impressive work. I'd be happy to deliver it for you…" he said, then added with a twinkle in his eye,
"...but I dare say if you gave it to Severus yourself, he might appreciate it more."
"Really? You think so?" Aris looked doubtful.
Because in his heart, he had a feeling Snape would take it completely the wrong way—maybe even see it as some sort of cheeky provocation.
"Well, it's entirely up to you," Dumbledore said with a wink.
"You can hand it over—or you can decide not to."
Before Aris could respond, he looked up—and the old wizard had vanished. Not a sound, not a trace. Gone in an instant.
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Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 107 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]