"What happened?" Dumbledore stirred from his stunned silence at Harry's unexpected return. To reclaim his status as the preeminent wizard, he needed to assess the situation swiftly.
He was uncertain of Argus's full capabilities but gauged them from his school exploits: at least on par with a standard Auror. In all of Hogwarts, only the professors and headmaster could match him.
How had he ended up injured enough to require phoenix tears?
"Last night, when the Dementors breached Hogwarts, I was keeping an eye on Harry to see where things went wrong," Argus explained, spinning a plausible tale. "It turns out, a rogue wizard had slipped into the castle."
Their earlier clash had planted seeds of doubt in Dumbledore's mind, allowing Argus to embellish without proof.
Dumbledore's face tightened at the mention of an intruder. "Go on, Argus."
"The wizard wore a black robe—I couldn't make out his face. I approached to investigate, and he attacked. He was powerful, but he seemed wary of drawing a professor's attention and aborting his mission, so he fled."
"I was more concerned about Harry's safety than chasing him down. If I'm right, this infiltrator drew the Dementors here."
Dumbledore pondered in silence for a couple of minutes, staring at the floor. He'd first suspected Sirius Black orchestrated everything.
But Lupin's report, corroborated by Snape's reluctant nod, sowed fresh uncertainty. If Sirius was innocent...
Where were these Death Eaters coming from? What did they want?
Harry? Unlikely. But if not him, what else at Hogwarts merited such a risky assault with Dementors?
The puzzle boxed him into a corner. "Don't worry, Argus. I'll look into it. Hogwarts won't tolerate Death Eaters lurking about.
He paused, then drew a small vial from his robes. "Fawkes' tears. Use them to mend your wounds. See Madam Pomfrey afterward—no lingering effects."
"You must be exhausted. I'll speak to Severus about giving you time off. Rest up once you're cleared."
"Right, Headmaster. I've been run ragged these past days." Argus slumped convincingly for effect.
It wasn't feigned; three days of tension had worn him down. Without his scheme to squeeze Dumbledore, he'd have slept ages ago.
They skirted their prior bargain, an unspoken accord. Some debts were best left buried.
Dumbledore preserved his paternal image for Harry; Argus did the same.
Leaving the office, Argus headed to the Room of Requirement to update Sirius: Harry was safe.
Sirius's face lit up, nearly leaping in relief. His eyes shone with gratitude toward Argus. "I won't prattle on. On the Black family honor, if you ever need me, I'm there—no questions."
Argus waved it off with a grin, though Sirius's vow hung solemn in the air. The Blacks were a shadow of themselves, fortunes siphoned by Argus, but the debt etched deep. He'd repay it someday.
...
Back in the office, Dumbledore eyed the shell-shocked Harry, a migraine brewing.
Rescuing him solved nothing; the fallout lingered. Stealing from your best mate's brother? That alone tarnished Harry's name at Hogwarts. Who'd trust him now?
The Weasleys might smile through gritted teeth—Molly and Arthur were too kind for open recriminations—but their warmth for Harry would cool.
Worse, the scandal rippled across the school. Time-Turners were once classified; few students knew of them.
Now, every kid knew: sign up for every class, snag a Turner's golden ticket. Two or three users? Manageable. A dozen? Chaos. Time-loop mishaps could plague Hogwarts routines.
Pranks, vendettas, jealousy—someone delays a user by minutes, and timelines shatter. Without safeguards, full-course options might vanish entirely.
But Harry came first. Time for a stern lesson.
"Harry," Dumbledore began, voice heavy, "I get it—your desperation to save your parents. But you botched this badly."
"A third-year can't tackle something so perilous alone. Even with good intentions, you consult the professors, the headmaster."
"Courage is noble, but reckless bravery ignores the fallout. Do you see that?"
Harry nodded, gaze downcast.
"Tell Minerva; she's been frantic. Spent the morning sorting your mess."
"Apologize to the other heads and professors too. And the Weasleys—explain honestly. They'll come around."
Dumbledore knew the rift with the Weasleys ran deep, but he softened it for Harry's sake. "Chin up. We all err. I made choices in my youth that haunt me still."
"Own it, make amends, and friends forgive. A Time-Turner isn't a fix-all. If we chase rewinds instead of repairing forward, the future stalls."
"Headmaster... I... I..." Harry faltered, words failing.
Dumbledore sighed inwardly. Harry, when would he step up as the savior they needed?
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