Chapter 51: Inspection and Lesson Planning
At Professor McGonagall's insistence, the three of them returned to the third-floor corridor.
"The enchantments here were broken by a corrosive curse," Dumbledore concluded after a brief inspection. In their presence, the ferocious Cerberus, Fluffy, had transformed into a whimpering puppy. It was practically holding its breath, terrified that the old wizard in the middle would swat it into oblivion.
"Who did this?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Voldemort," Ryan stated flatly. "The question is, how? Professor Quirrell is still in the hospital wing, under Madam Pomfrey's constant watch. I don't believe Voldemort would be so reckless."
"Voldemort?! Quirinus?!" Professor McGonagall was stunned. "Merlin's beard, what has been happening?!"
"It's like this, Minerva," Dumbledore began, and he recounted the story, from Ryan's prophecy to Quirrell's hospitalization. "As of now, we do not know where Voldemort is hiding, only that his goal is the Philosopher's Stone."
"To let Voldemort roam free within the school… it's too dangerous for the students!" Professor McGonagall said, a look of horror on her face. "We should send them all home and conduct a thorough search of the castle!"
Dumbledore and Ryan both understood her fear. The thought of Voldemort loose among the student body was a recipe for disaster.
"Calm yourself, Minerva," Dumbledore said soothingly. "The Voldemort of today is a mere shadow of his former self. He has not the power to harm the students." He pointed to the scorch marks on the broken magical lock. "As Quirinus said, Voldemort is likely in a strange, disembodied state. The magic used here was not particularly powerful. The real question," he said, "is how he was able to use it at all…"
"Thinking about it here is useless," Ryan said. He had an idea, inspired by his recent trip to Cambridge. "I have a suggestion, Headmaster. We could use alchemy to create a permanent monitoring spell, combined with a surveillance device, and hide it here. Voldemort is after the Stone; he will be back."
"A Muggle surveillance device?" Professor McGonagall said, a memory of a certain fifth-year's daring heist flashing in her mind. Just the other day, she had seen a miniature playground in the kitchens, where a group of very healthy-looking white mice were happily playing.
"A brilliant idea, Ryan," Dumbledore said. "I do not believe Voldemort would be prepared for Muggle technology." He then took charge. "I will create the alchemical surveillance device. Minerva, Ryan, I would like you to keep an eye out for any other unusual occurrences within the castle."
They both agreed. Ryan added that he would share any relevant prophecies with them immediately.
After they had left, the three-headed dog, Fluffy, let out a sigh of relief. He began to pace around the room, the undisputed king of his castle. Then, he spotted something shiny in the corner. A small, round, golden piece of metal. He padded it with his paw, chasing it as it rolled across the floor. Denied his special ice-cube treats, Fluffy had found a new toy.
The Adventurers' Club.
Ryan returned to his private study, but on the way, he had taken a detour to the dungeons. Peeking into the Potions classroom, he saw that Professor Snape was still there, sitting in the same spot, staring at the ceiling. In the dim light, Ryan thought he saw the glint of tears on his face. Deciding it was best to leave him to his grief, Ryan had quietly slipped away.
"What a day," he sighed, collapsing onto the sofa. Leaving the Great Hall early, Snape's confession, Dumbledore's late-night chat, the student rebellion… And tomorrow, he had to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. A familiar feeling of dread washed over him. "I quit."
He waved his hand, and a schedule appeared in the air. "First-year DADA tomorrow morning, two hours… then another class the day after…" He stared at the packed schedule and had only one thought: Why doesn't Hogwarts hire more professors?! I'm only a fifth-year! I have O.W.L.s to worry about!
He could probably skip most of his other classes by having a word with his "colleagues," but there were some he couldn't miss, namely the ones taught by the four Heads of House, and his alchemy lessons. He laid out a detailed timetable for himself. The next six months, while he was the acting DADA professor, were going to be… intense. Intense enough to land even a seasoned all-nighter-puller like himself in St. Mungo's.
"I can see it now," he muttered to himself. "The students will wonder where their DADA professor has gone, only to find him attending Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Herbology. Or they'll find him passed out from exhaustion in St. Mungo's… or in a corner somewhere, a victim of the curse…" The image was too horrible to contemplate.
He dragged himself up to his desk and began to plan his lessons. A couple of hours later, a heavily edited and rewritten lesson plan lay before him. It was a brilliant, in-depth analysis of Dark Magic, its relationship to Light Magic, and the blurred lines between them. The only problem was that it was far too advanced for the average student. A single misplaced emphasis, and he would be sending a whole new generation of Dark Wizards to Azkaban.
"No, no, this is too dangerous," he said, and tore up the lesson plan. Considering the "happy education" mindset of his students, it was best to stick to the textbook.
He picked up the first-year text, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, by Quentin Trimble. Ryan had seen his portrait in the Headmaster's office. He was a former Headmaster himself, and Ryan was sure his magical skill was on par with the current Heads of House. The textbook, therefore, was a reliable choice.
He selected the chapter on Red Caps for the first lesson. "And now," he said to the empty room, "I just have to go and catch one."
A few moments later, another thought struck him. "Lesson planning is such a drag… is there a way to teach without it?" A brilliant, terrible idea began to form in his mind.
At one o'clock in the morning, after writing letters to all the previous DADA professors, expressing his respect and admiration and humbly asking for their advice on how to combat the curse, Ryan slipped out of Hogwarts, in search of a lucky little Red Cap.
"Let's see," he said to the sleeping castle, "which one of you will be the lucky winner tonight?"
~~~
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