"That's right, I absolutely cannot give up!"
"Although fifty years have passed, Lord Grindelwald is still alive! I cannot simply surrender!"
Lyla took a deep breath and slapped her cheeks, her blue eyes gradually filling with resolve.
She couldn't just forget the mission and the absolute trust Lord Grindelwald had placed in her. Although her master had lost the war, she was still standing.
No matter what it took, she had to complete his final mission!
With her fighting spirit reignited, Lyla pumped her fist. "Next time we meet, I'll ambush Albus Dumbledore and take him down... Bang, bang!"
Just as Lyla mimed a dual-wand strike, a polite knock sounded at the parlor door.
The tall figure of the legendary wizard pushed open the door and stepped inside.
"Dum-Dum-Dum… Dumbledore!" Lyla stammered, subconsciously stumbling backward and hiding her hands behind her back.
The "next time we meet" I spoke of wasn't supposed to be right now! she panicked internally. At the very least, I should have a working wand first!
"You look well," Dumbledore smiled gently, walking further into the room. He casually set a small paper bag on the table.
"I brought some provisions," he said mildly. "You seem to have eaten nothing since yesterday."
Grumble~
As if on cue, Lyla's stomach let out an incredibly loud, uncooperative roar. She blushed furiously and ducked her head.
It was true; she hadn't eaten in almost two days. But this was the enemy's food! She would never accept charity from her master's captor!
With her hands still firmly clasped behind her back, Lyla blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Grindelwald… where is he?"
"I want to see him."
"Grindelwald?" Dumbledore paused, his twinkling eyes assessing her. "You wish to see him?"
"Mm... mm-hmm!" Lyla pursed her lips and quickly deployed the excuse she had prepared in her head. "I have a terrible grudge against him… can you grant me an audience?"
She obviously couldn't tell him she was planning to discuss the revival of his dark army and her assassination mission.
"A grudge… is it?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, then slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss Hamilton, but Gellert Grindelwald is a high-profile prisoner of the Wizengamot."
"Unless there are exceptional circumstances, anyone wishing to visit him requires express authorization." Dumbledore lowered his voice, his tone turning somber. "Perhaps there is indeed much hatred between you two."
"But believe me."
"Too much hatred will, in time, only consume oneself. Do you not agree?"
No! Lyla wanted to scream. She pursed her lips, wanting to retort, but didn't know where to begin.
I actually don't have any grudge against him! I just needed an excuse to visit Nurmengard! You don't have to make it sound like I'm going to murder him if we meet!
"I… I have a personal reason why I simply must see him." After agonizing over her words, that was the best Lyla could muster.
It was a statement so flimsy it couldn't even be called a proper excuse.
Yet, her deadly serious demeanor made Dumbledore pause and ponder for a long while.
"Miss Hamilton, in these past fifty years… what exactly happened to you?" Dumbledore suddenly changed the subject.
"I…" Lyla pursed her lips. She recounted a heavily redacted version of the past two days, focusing mostly on waking up from a coma on the beach.
"Is that so?" Dumbledore frowned slightly, lost in thought for a few seconds. "According to Grindelwald's own confession in 1945..."
"It was his acolytes who attacked you," Dumbledore said, glancing sharply at the stunned Lyla. "But you seem to already know about this."
Of course I didn't know! Lyla thought frantically. And how does that coincidentally match the excuse I just made up?! Is Lord Grindelwald actually covering for my disappearance?!
Suppressing the shock bubbling in her chest, Lyla pursed her lips. "I… I encountered members of his army… right before I fell into my coma."
"Then it seems… it was indeed his followers who attacked you." Dumbledore paused. "It's just that, for some inexplicable reason, the dark magic used didn't kill you, but instead trapped you in a stasis for fifty years?"
"Sh-should… should be… right?" Lyla mumbled, feeling completely out of her depth.
"Mm…" Dumbledore pondered for a few seconds, then gently nodded, accepting the theory.
"Miss Hamilton, have you given any thought to what you want to do next?" he asked suddenly.
Of course I've thought about it, she mentally sneered. First, meet Lord Grindelwald. Next, gain your absolute trust. Then, completely destroy you and revive our army. For the Greater Good!
Seeing the incredibly strange expression twisting Lyla's face, Dumbledore coughed lightly. "What I mean is… for your own livelihood."
"Although fifty years have passed, Miss Hamilton, your physiological age is undoubtedly still sixteen."
Hey! Even in 1942, I was already eighteen! Lyla thought indignantly.
Unable to help herself, she mumbled softly, "Um… I'm actually already eighteen…"
"Ah… is that so…" Dumbledore scrutinized Lyla over his half-moon spectacles, then blinked. "Then Miss Hamilton truly seems quite… young for her age."
"…"
Lyla obviously understood what Dumbledore was implying. She lowered her head awkwardly, the fierce momentum of her fighting spirit instantly evaporating.
He meant she looked like a child.
Well, there was nothing she could do about it! She ate the same portions as everyone else at Durmstrang, she just never hit a growth spurt! Did he forget she was half-Veela?!
Biting her lip and completely unable to argue with the physical evidence, Lyla simply mumbled, "Mm."
Seeing her dejected posture, Dumbledore gently continued. "Getting back to the point, Miss Hamilton, what are your plans for the future?"
"Wizards still need to make a living. As far as I know… you were unemployed before you disappeared, were you not?"
Actually, I was gainfully employed… as a loyal soldier in Lord Grindelwald's army! Of course, she couldn't say that out loud. Pinching the cuff of her sleeve, she whispered, "N-no."
"Then…" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a meaningful light. "I happen to have a job opening I could introduce you to."
"A j-job?" Lyla pursed her lips. She desperately wanted to refuse. She didn't need a job; she had a dark army to revive!
But facing Dumbledore's earnest gaze, she was momentarily too embarrassed to say no to his face. She had always been terrible at refusing people—it was the exact reason she ended up in wizard prison, and the exact reason she joined Grindelwald in the first place.
"Yes, a position at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, retrieving a rolled parchment from his pocket. "If you are willing, I would be honored to have you serve as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next term."
"P-Professor?!" Lyla furiously waved her hands in panic. "No… no… I absolutely can't!"
She had no ability whatsoever to be a professor, let alone for Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had been a problematic, anxious student at Durmstrang, and most of her teachers couldn't stand her.
Besides, Durmstrang didn't even teach Defense Against the Dark Arts! They just called it the Dark Arts!
"Miss Hamilton, please do not underestimate yourself," Dumbledore smiled warmly. "As one of the most naturally gifted students Durmstrang has seen in recent centuries..."
"You are more than capable of holding a position at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "And according to my sources..."
"Miss Hamilton, you are quite adept at non-verbal magic, are you not?"
Eh? Lyla froze. She hadn't expected Dumbledore to know so much about her academic record. Did he already know her true identity as an acolyte?
Just as panic began to set in, Dumbledore explained. "Miss Hamilton, back in those dark days, I actually considered seeking you out to join my resistance against Grindelwald."
"But unfortunately, after 1942, you vanished without a trace." A hint of genuine apology flashed across his face. "It seems you unfortunately crossed paths with Grindelwald's inner circle instead."
"Mm… mm…" Lyla nodded weakly. I did indeed cross paths with them... because they recruited me.
"Therefore, you are perfectly suited to serve as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Dumbledore reasoned with a smile. "After all, you are exceptionally skilled at defensive magic, are you not?"
"But… but…" Lyla still wanted to refuse.
How could someone like her—someone who literally had panic attacks just talking to a Muggle child—handle a classroom full of students? A professor had to lecture, right?!
"Miss Hamilton, you mentioned earlier that you wished to visit Grindelwald, did you not?" Dumbledore suddenly struck where she was weakest.
He met her eyes, speaking carefully. "If… you agree to serve as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, then at the end of the school year, I will personally escort you to see him."
"Do we have an agreement?"
Meet… Lord Grindelwald. Lyla pursed her lips. This was an offer she quite literally could not refuse. But becoming a professor...
Wait. Becoming a professor also seemed like the perfect way to gain Dumbledore's trust, didn't it? He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts!
If she became a trusted professor... No, Lyla! Stop overthinking! You just swore you were determined to complete your master's mission! How can you chicken out over a little public speaking? They were just a bunch of children! She completely forgot that, chronologically, she was barely an adult herself.
"Okay… I… I agree…" Lyla's pointed ears drooped as she stammered out her absolute surrender to Dumbledore's terms.
Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction. "Then… Miss Hamilton, I am overjoyed to hear it."
With that, he pulled a handful of colorful candies from his pocket and deposited them into Lyla's palm.
"A welcome gift," he said with a beaming smile. "Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."
He selected one for himself and popped it into his mouth.
Bertie Bott's Every Flavour... Beans? Lyla had never seen these before. They looked like some sort of Muggle jelly sweet.
Subconsciously, she picked one up and tentatively put it in her mouth.
"What flavor did you get?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
"Strawberry?" Lyla guessed after a moment of chewing.
"Is that so..." Dumbledore smiled, shaking his head with a slight grimace. "Mine appears to be bogey-flavored."
"…"
Lyla immediately wanted to throw the rest of the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans straight into the fireplace.
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