"Miranda Goshawk? The author of The Standard Book of Spells series? Britain's greatest educator?"
Avada raised an eyebrow in surprise. "If it's her, that does make sense. Though from the way you were speaking just now, I almost thought your Headmistress was Gellert Grindelwald…"
"That's our Deputy Head."
"…What?!"
Avada froze mid-step. When the weight of that statement truly sank in, he whipped around in alarm.
"You're the remnants of the Grindelwald movement?!"
"No."
Professor Benjamin Baker shook his head with amusement. "Most new professors react the same way when they first hear that. In truth, our founder has always been Nobby Leach alone. That said, he did absorb quite a few former Grindelwald supporters and gained Gellert Grindelwald's personal approval and backing. In fact, many of our key technologies originated from him. And quite a few former members of his movement teach here now—such as members of the Rosier family."
"Grindelwald's approval and backing?!"
Avada took two involuntary steps backward. "You infiltrated Nurmengard?"
"And what exactly are you trying to accomplish that would earn that man's support?!"
"We were surprised too," Baker admitted with a shrug. "But it's not that hard to understand. You can't expect a man who once stirred the entire world to simply sit in a castle for fifty years doing nothing but eating and sleeping."
"As for our educational philosophy—yes, it does share certain similarities with Grindelwald's ideals. We'll get to that gradually. Here we are—my office."
At some point during their conversation, an unremarkable wooden door had appeared beside them. Baker tapped the doorknob lightly with his wand, and it clicked open on its own.
Directly facing the entrance stood a faintly glowing mirror. Turning inward revealed a well-appointed office of moderate size—desk, chairs, bookshelves, fireplace, shelves of teaching aids, everything in its place. Two steaming cups of coffee sat on the desk, as though freshly brewed.
"Come in. There's quite a lot you need to understand…"
Baker closed the door behind them and gestured for Avada to sit opposite him. He slid one of the cups of coffee across the desk.
"If we're going to explain this properly… we need to begin with the current state of wizarding society."
"Ken, if I remember correctly, you're Muggle-born as well, aren't you?"
Avada nodded.
"Then have you ever wondered why, in a magical society that has existed for over a thousand years, there has never been a 'university'—an institution that ought to exist? Why witches and wizards, at only seventeen years old, are expected to begin working and earning money? Even when further training is required, it's limited to narrow on-the-job instruction… Compared to Muggles, wizards live longer lives, enjoy easier living conditions, and have compiled knowledge just as vast—if not more so. Yet there is no dedicated institution for systematically teaching advanced knowledge to meet that need."
"Why is that?"
"…The Statute of Secrecy?"
After a moment of silence, Avada answered softly.
"Partially correct."
Baker nodded and leaned back in his chair. "On the surface, the Statute of Secrecy appears to be one of the most important reasons. Limit the spread of knowledge, reduce destructive capability, ensure witches and wizards don't go about casting flashy magic and attracting Muggle attention—thus protecting themselves from Muggle persecution. Theoretically, that's the logic."
"Theoretically?"
Avada noticed the emphasis Baker placed on that word.
"Yes—theoretically. Muggles persecute wizards, therefore wizards must remain hidden, therefore they must not wield conspicuous magic. A beautifully closed logical loop."
Baker let out a cold laugh.
"But have you ever considered this? In the seventeenth century, when the Statute was enacted, when the most advanced Muggle weapon was merely a flintlock musket—what exactly were they using to persecute witches and wizards?"
"At that time, magical schools across Europe had already existed for centuries. Hogwarts alone had more than six hundred years of history. Wands were widespread. Apparition, flying carpets, broomsticks—various means of magical transport were already in use. And due to the Goblin Rebellions, most wizards of that era were battle-hardened and proficient in combat magic. You're telling me they were persecuted by Muggles with flintlock muskets?"
"Even a single wizard facing a Muggle army wouldn't have been in much danger—Shield Charms, Apparition, Confundus Charms would suffice. And wizards lived concealed among Muggles anyway—they rarely had to confront military forces directly. So why were they 'persecuted' to the extent that they had to vanish from society altogether?"
"…So what's the truth?"
"The truth has been buried beneath layers of social upheaval. It's difficult to verify now."
Baker took a sip of coffee and sighed.
"But I can tell you something else."
"For wizarding society, the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were undeniably turbulent. Beyond hostility from Muggles, the most pressing threat was the Goblin Rebellions. In fact, one of the primary reasons for enacting the Statute of Secrecy—cutting off Muggle threats entirely—was to free up resources and focus on dealing with the goblins."
"Then, after the Statute was implemented, the Goblin Rebellions subsided relatively quickly after some minor flare-ups. The goblins faced almost no reckoning at all—and in fact ended up controlling Gringotts, the very lifeline of the wizarding economy."
"…Who was leading wizarding society at that time?"
"Sharp."
Baker gave Avada an approving look.
"The Ministry of Magic hadn't yet fully formed. Governance was handled by its predecessor—the Wizard's Council. A body composed of the heads of various wizarding communities."
"The heads of wizarding communities?!"
A chill ran down Avada's spine. If his grasp of magical history was accurate…
"That's right."
Baker nodded gravely.
"They were all pure-blood families."
(End of Chapter)