Chapter 48: Minerva is Getting On in Years, You Must Strive On
"That's not a dog! And these are just dungbombs!" Vaisey hissed, stopping the twins from their suicidal course of action. "And besides," he added, "you two should probably learn a bit more about a dog's eating habits."
Fred and George exchanged a sheepish grin.
The three-headed dog opened its mouths again, this time lunging for Malfoy. But it moved in slow motion, its jaws agape, as if deliberately giving Vaisey a clear shot. What is happening?! Vaisey thought, bewildered. He fired another experimental Freezing Charm, which sailed neatly down one of the beast's throats.
One of the heads closed its eyes and let out a strange, gurgling sigh of pleasure. The other two heads looked at Vaisey expectantly, as if to say, Again, please.
I have never seen anything like this in my entire life, Vaisey thought, his carefully constructed facade of the cool, experienced Slytherin crumbling. Can someone please explain to me why this Cerberus enjoys having ice cubes shot down its throat?! He put on his best Snape face and began to wordlessly fire a steady stream of Freezing Charms.
....
"These pure-blood families all suffered heavy casualties in the wizarding war," the pyjama-clad, hundred-plus-year-old Dumbledore said, looking remarkably spry. "On both sides. But that is all ancient history now."
The "young" Ryan, on the other hand, was fading fast. He took out a potion and downed it in one gulp. Besides his wrinkly skin, Ryan thought, now much more awake, every other part of the Headmaster is in better shape than several of me combined. He made a mental note of the abridged history of the rise and fall of the pure-blood families that Dumbledore had just recounted.
"Ryan," Dumbledore began, his tone serious, "a person of great ability, whether they wish it or not, will always make waves in the world. Voldemort, with his pure-blood ideology, brought irreparable harm to our world. I have seen other, similar examples. That is why I have always remained the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, I would like to ask you, what are your plans for this year?"
"I've always liked the Hogwarts motto," Ryan said, not yet answering the question. "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus—Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon." He then changed his tone. "A dragon can sleep soundly, because no storm can shake him. But what about the other, smaller creatures of the forest? When the hunter comes, they are doomed. They will be slaughtered, caged, and studied, because the hunter is a creature raised on blood and flesh. He has none of the virtues: no humility, no honesty, no mercy, no valor, no justice, no honor, no soul. And from what I know of hunters, the moment they have sized up the dragon, they will invite him to join them in their feast of flesh."
He smiled, as if telling a child's story. "What, Headmaster, do you think the dragon should do?"
The moment Ryan had said "a dragon can sleep soundly," Dumbledore's expression had turned grave. Now, he was silent.
The portraits on the wall reacted in various ways. The older ones frowned, thinking Ryan was being an alarmist. The even older ones just smiled indulgently, as if at a child who had addled his brain with too much magic. Wizards being hunted? Impossible! The most recent crop of Headmasters, having only known the singular evil of Voldemort, found the idea equally preposterous. Wizards are, on the whole, good people. Muggles must be as well. We can all live in peace.
One Slytherin Headmaster even sneered, "Impossible, boy! We are invincible!"
"Former Headmasters," Ryan said respectfully, "you were all, without a doubt, the greatest wizards of your time. But times have changed." Their reactions were expected. Even Dumbledore's predecessor had only known a world in its infancy of electricity and radio. Now, on the cusp of the twenty-first century, a new, digital age was dawning.
Ryan closed his eyes, a wave of weariness washing over him. If even these brilliant wizards couldn't see the world as a whole, but only their own small corner of it, what hope was there for the average, Galleon--obsessed wizard? This was why he had to become Headmaster. The wizarding world was a stagnant pond, and only by educating the young could he hope to stir its waters.
A dragon could not remain aloof, because a dragon could not betray its own kind.
Dumbledore wanted to say many things, to tell Ryan that the world was full of goodness and truth. But his own long life, and his recent studies of Muggle sociology, held him back. If Grindelwald had been a Muggle, he would have been a political leader who could have crushed ninety-nine percent of his opponents… What a mess. Dumbledore had thought that dealing with Voldemort's return would be the greatest challenge of his final years. But now, it seemed, Ryan was here to collect a debt he didn't even know he owed. All his carefully laid plans for the "Savior," for the next "White Wizard," were being subsumed into a much, much grander scheme.
Seeing Dumbledore's silence, Ryan moved on. "My to-do list for this year is rather long," he said. "First, to study alchemy and perfect the external power source, while also reducing its cost and increasing its efficiency. Second, Professor Flitwick's Charms club. Third, Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration club. Fourth, my own Adventurers' Club. And fifth," he said with a sigh, "the Defense Against the Dark Arts position you so generously 'gifted' to me. A position that comes with an unavoidable Voldemort curse! First thing tomorrow, I'm going to contact all the previous DADA professors and ask them for advice. Though, given their track records, I doubt they'll have much to offer."
"I've heard," he continued, finally unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes, "that the cursed individual can only remain at Hogwarts for a single year, even if they hold no official position the second year. My dear Headmaster," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I haven't even graduated yet! Are you that desperate to get rid of me?!"
The sensitive topic now passed, Dumbledore smiled cheerfully. "Of course not, Ryan. You are my most brilliant student. I am confident that you will be the one to finally break the curse." He patted Ryan on the shoulder. "I am getting old, Ryan. And Minerva is not far behind me. We will not be able to serve as Headmaster for many more years. The future of Hogwarts rests on your shoulders. You must strive on!"
He added, a twinkle in his eye, "And I am sure that you, of all people, cannot abide the thought of Voldemort's curse lingering in this castle, can you?" The carrot, now expertly dangled.
~~~
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