Chapter 2: Dumbledore's Secret
The stone gargoyle slid aside, revealing a narrow spiral staircase that began to move the moment the passage opened.
Douglas stepped onto the staircase and allowed it to carry him upward.
At the top, he pushed open the door to the Headmaster's office.
The room looked almost exactly as it had when he was a student—tall windows letting in soft daylight, delicate silver instruments clicking quietly on nearby tables, and portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses lining the circular walls.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.
Headmaster Dumbledore was hunched over his desk, absorbed in a book, seemingly unaware that anyone had entered.
"Ahem," McGonagall said, her voice rising slightly.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr. Holmes has arrived."
Dumbledore closed the book with visible reluctance.
Douglas caught a glimpse of the cover as the book was lowered, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
That book…
It shouldn't exist in the wizarding world.
When Dumbledore looked up, Douglas met those sharp blue eyes behind the familiar half-moon glasses.
Almost instinctively, Douglas activated Occlumency, constructing a thin layer of false memories in his mind.
He had begun studying Occlumency during his third year.
At the time, the wizarding world had only recently emerged from the terror of Voldemort's rise, and Hogwarts had quietly made certain defensive techniques available to particularly promising students.
Seeing Douglas's subtle change in expression, Dumbledore coughed lightly.
"Ahem. Douglas, it's been quite some time."
His eyes twinkled.
"This room brings back memories… especially of the time we shared a hot pot meal right here."
Douglas immediately realized he had overreacted.
"Aha—Headmaster, it's been a while."
He laughed.
"I remember that as well. After all, it's not easy to make dragon-blood tofu without unpleasant side effects outside Hogwarts."
Professor McGonagall shot them both a sharp look.
"Albus, I have work to attend to," she said flatly. "There are many matters waiting for me."
Then she paused and added sternly,
"And let me remind you both once again—please do not cook hot pot in a cauldron inside the Headmaster's office."
Just remembering the incident made her temples ache.
Several years earlier, the two of them had been caught red-handed in this very room.
Severus Snape had discovered them boiling hot pot in a potion cauldron.
The sight had nearly driven the Slytherin Head of House to resign on the spot—only a few years after he had begun teaching.
Ever since then, even though Douglas had earned an Outstanding on his Potions O.W.L., Snape had firmly refused to allow him into the N.E.W.T. Potions class.
Professor McGonagall sighed quietly.
If Douglas Holmes truly returned to Hogwarts…
The school, which had enjoyed several peaceful years, might become lively again.
Very lively.
With that thought, she left the office.
After the door closed, Douglas reached into his bag and produced another snack package identical to the one he had given McGonagall.
"Headmaster, before the interview begins, please allow me to offer a small gift."
He placed it gently on the table.
"I made these myself. They're pastries—very suitable for someone like you—"
Before he could finish, a loud voice erupted from one of the portraits.
"Bribery! This is blatant bribery!"
The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black glared down from the wall.
"I cannot believe a supposedly honest and upright Hufflepuff would stoop to such disgraceful behavior!"
Dumbledore turned his head toward the portrait, smiling patiently.
"Oh, Phineas, please don't be so dramatic. I believe this is simply a gesture of affection and respect from a former student to his old headmaster."
Several of the other portraits immediately leaned into Phineas's frame and covered his mouth before he could continue shouting.
Dumbledore gestured toward a chair.
"Douglas, please sit down. Make yourself comfortable. The usual?"
Before Douglas could answer, a small table beside him filled with refreshments.
A cup of freshly brewed black tea appeared, accompanied by several pieces of fruit.
Douglas blinked in surprise.
Tea was nothing unusual.
Whenever he acquired a good variety of tea—during or after his time at Hogwarts—he often sent some to the professors.
Even to Professor Snape.
But the fruit…
Those had clearly been picked very recently.
The only place such fruits grew at Hogwarts was a small clearing near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
An orchard he had planted himself.
Back when he was a student, Douglas and a group of enthusiastic Hufflepuffs had cultivated the area together.
Professor Pomona Sprout had even helped them along the way.
Part of the harvest had been sent to the professors and to the student leaders—the Head Boy, Head Girl, and house prefects.
The rest usually ended up as dessert in the Hufflepuff common room.
Of course, that had sparked no small number of conflicts between Hufflepuff and the other three houses.
Douglas had assumed that after he graduated, the orchard would gradually be forgotten.
Seeing the surprise on Douglas's face, Dumbledore smiled faintly.
"The orchard still exists."
He folded his hands together.
"And it is still called Holmes Orchard. I suspect that name will remain."
"Hogwarts does not forget the students who contribute to it."
"Even after your graduation, the trees have been carefully tended. Professors and prefects alike have taken an interest in them."
Then he added with mild regret,
"Though unfortunately… no new fruits have been added since you left."
Douglas nodded slowly.
He picked up a banana from the table and peeled it casually.
"It's easy to go from frugality to luxury," he said lightly. "But very difficult to return to frugality afterward."
Dumbledore chuckled softly.
He found it difficult to disagree—especially considering he now insisted on eating hot pot once a week.
Then he lifted the book he had been reading earlier.
"Douglas," he said thoughtfully, "you have accomplished quite a great deal over the years."
He tapped the cover.
"Is the author 'The Banana-Loving Badger'… you?"
"—!"
Douglas nearly choked on his banana.
After coughing once, he looked up and met Dumbledore's amused gaze.
Seeing the certainty in those eyes, he shrugged and leaned back calmly.
"Well… I didn't expect the Headmaster to discover that."
He smiled faintly.
"Yes. That's my pen name."
"But—"
Before he could finish, Dumbledore waved his hand.
Several hardcover books floated gracefully from a nearby bookshelf and landed on the desk.
"I must say," Dumbledore continued pleasantly, "you are both remarkably talented and impressively discreet."
"You always emphasize that these are merely fantasy novels."
"But I can see that you've explored ancient magic and the possibilities of magical development quite deeply."
He tapped one of the books.
"For instance, in Magic Chef, you describe magical progression levels—elementary, intermediate, advanced, wizard, and mage."
Dumbledore looked over his glasses.
"If my memory of the publication date is correct… you hadn't even reached your second year at Hogwarts when you wrote that."
"Oh—wait. Don't be nervous," he added gently.
"I mean no accusation."
He picked up another book.
"And here, in The Archmage's Handbook, you discuss classifications of magical elements—fire, earth, lightning, summoning, spatial magic…"
Another book opened itself.
"And in Master of All Trades, you introduce fascinating ideas such as magical guilds, specialized potions, and magical formation circles."
Douglas blinked in surprise.
"Wait… Headmaster."
He leaned forward.
"If I remember correctly, those particular chapters weren't published in the wizarding world."
He stared at Dumbledore.
"You actually read the Muggle versions?"
Years earlier, when Douglas realized how limited wizarding cultural entertainment was, he had quickly come up with a plan.
Writing novels.
It was the fastest way to accumulate wealth.
During the second semester of his first year, Douglas had begun his exhausting writing journey.
There were no typewriters or computers at Hogwarts.
But with a quill in hand—and a little creative use of Transfiguration to convert ink strokes into perfect text—his writing speed was hardly limited by technology.
And fortunately…
He had been a Hufflepuff.
An alumnus of Hufflepuff named Mr. Slane, who had just graduated and was working as an intern editor at Obscurus Books, had helped him tremendously.
Simply because Douglas belonged to the same house, Slane had willingly extended a helping hand to a first-year student he had never met.
Naturally, Douglas had not disappointed him.
That was how those books had entered the world.
However, Douglas had been careful.
To avoid alarming the Ministry of Magic—or causing unnecessary upheaval—he had divided every novel into two versions.
One version was published in the wizarding world, with magical concepts that closely resembled existing magical theory.
The other version was released in the Muggle world, using the broader magical systems he remembered from his previous life.
Otherwise, the Ministry might have accused him of revealing magical secrets…
And sent him straight to the wizarding world's infamous fifth "branch of Hogwarts."
Azkaban.
Aside from the editor at the publishing house, no one knew his true identity as the author.
Considering the uncertain future ahead, Douglas had preferred to remain cautious.
Yet somehow…
Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age, had obtained the Muggle editions.
And seemed very interested in the magical systems described inside them.
Dumbledore showed no sign of displeasure at Douglas interrupting him.
On the contrary, there was clear admiration in his eyes.
He understood Douglas's concern.
If the Muggle versions of those novels were ever widely circulated in the wizarding world…
Their ideas might influence magical research, spellcasting traditions, and even the structure of wizarding society itself.
And the consequences of that would be impossible to predict.