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BFH# Chapter 42: A Private Discussion with Harry
🕑 Added 2025-01-05 15:44:16 +0000 UTCAs Dumbledore and Viktor exchanged polite nods in the fourth-floor corridor, their departure caught the curious glances of several students. Yet most Hogwarts students had no desire to venture where the headmaster had explicitly warned of danger—why tempt fate unnecessarily?
Hogwarts soon returned to its usual calm.
While Viktor headed toward the North Tower, Dumbledore ascended several staircases, arriving at his office on the eighth floor.
There, Professor Minerva McGonagall stood waiting by the eagle-headed gargoyle, clutching a stack of thick documents. Upon hearing Dumbledore’s return, she turned to him.
"Albus, I’ve been waiting for quite a while," she remarked, handing him the pile of papers. "These are documents requiring your approval—mostly from the Ministry of Magic, with a few from the Board of Governors."
"Lucius Malfoy is still upset about his son fainting on the school train. He’s showing no signs of letting the matter rest. And we all know he has no real grounds. Honestly, the boy had the audacity to publicly insult Harry’s parents on the train!"
"I’ll handle the matter appropriately," Dumbledore said with a shake of his head.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "But he’s involved Gringotts and certain Ministry officials. Who knows what’s gotten into those goblins—they’re pressuring us for a thorough security review..."
"Oh, that issue has already been resolved," Dumbledore said, stroking his long, white beard.
"The goblins’ urgency stems from the progress of their investigation. Somehow, they’ve discovered that the suspect is near Hogwarts, and they’re eager to crack the case to restore their reputation."
"I’ve already involved Professor Viktor in strengthening our protective spells. I suspect he’ll address the goblins’ concerns as part of the process."
McGonagall tightened her grip on the books she was holding and said quietly, "The suspect? Does this mean... he’s already inside?"
"You know we cannot keep him out," Dumbledore replied gravely.
"But Albus, I still don’t understand. Why not thoroughly search the school first? With so many capable professors, we could apprehend him before he causes trouble. There’s no need to risk allowing him to roam freely within Hogwarts."
Dumbledore let out a weary sigh. His once-bright blue eyes, now tinged with fatigue, revealed a vulnerability seldom seen in the powerful wizard. In that moment, he seemed less like a formidable sorcerer in control of everything and more like an aging man.
"I’m not as young as I used to be, Minerva. But his methods of survival remain unclear. Everyone claims Voldemort is dead, or at most a disembodied spirit, but you and I know better."
At the mention of that name, McGonagall’s lips trembled, as though she was reliving the terror and loss that had gripped the wizarding world years ago.
Dumbledore paused before continuing:
"I don’t know how he survived. Lily—she used a form of ancient magic that turned his own curse against him. I’ve examined the site thoroughly, and by all accounts, he should be dead. Yet he is not."
"I don’t understand how he managed it. Even if we capture him now, I don’t know how to destroy him completely. If he chooses to retreat into the shadows and wait, he could reemerge years later. By then, I may no longer be here to stop him."
"Albus—"
"I know what you mean, Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted, shaking his head. "But death is inevitable. I don’t intend to avoid it. I only wish to ensure the wizarding world’s safety and see that the Order of the Phoenix’s efforts aren’t in vain."
A heavy silence fell between them.
Although the war against Voldemort had ended a decade ago, its shadow still lingered over the wizarding world, making such solemn discussions unavoidable.
The flickering candlelight by the spiraling staircase cast their elongated shadows on the wall.
After a moment, Dumbledore shifted the topic. Stroking his beard thoughtfully, he asked, "What do you think of Viktor?"
"Professor Viktor?" McGonagall was momentarily caught off guard by the abrupt change of subject but quickly regained her composure.
"Well... he’s competent, though his manner of speaking is rather peculiar. Sometimes, I find him difficult to read. He seems close to Severus, which might suggest he aligns with the pure-bloods..."
Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "That’s not a concern."
"Oh?"
"He doesn’t subscribe to pure-blood ideology. I overheard him talking to Quirrell at the start of term—he openly admitted he’s Muggle-born and even expressed disdain for pure-blood supremacy. His tone was far too genuine to be a lie."
"That’s surprising."
"Indeed," Dumbledore mused with a faint smile. "It seems not all Slytherin-like individuals are cut from the same cloth as Voldemort."
"Even so, we must remain vigilant. While he may reject pure-blood ideals, his methods resemble dark magic. I’ll keep an eye on him, and you should do the same, Minerva. Ensure he doesn’t cross any lines."
"Understood," McGonagall replied with a nod.
After a brief pause, she added with some hesitation, "But Albus, he recently gave Harry a book—From Bloodlines to Curses. I skimmed through it, and it’s filled with dark spells and curses. I wanted to tell him not to give such material to a child... but for a Slytherin, it’s hardly unusual!"
"Simply instruct him to avoid teaching anything that violates school rules or wizarding law. Professor Viktor has studied legal codes and should understand the boundaries."
Even as he said this, Dumbledore’s expression betrayed a hint of uncertainty.
Elsewhere, Harry Potter’s days had been going rather well. Though the snake incident at the start of term earned him some peculiar looks, his repeated clashes with Slytherins had gradually dispelled such reactions.
"A Gryffindor who doesn’t confront Slytherins isn’t a true Gryffindor!"
And, of course, the sentiment was mutual.
Recently, Harry had experienced a major milestone: during a flying lesson, he violated the rules by using his broomstick—but the incident caught Professor McGonagall’s attention and earned him a spot on the Quidditch team.
The following morning, during breakfast, a peculiar package attracted everyone’s attention—a long, thin parcel carried by six large-eared owls. Harry, like everyone else, was eager to know what was inside.
To his surprise, the owls deposited the package directly in front of him, accompanied by two additional letters.
"For me?"
Harry stared at the package in amazement.
Ron, munching on bacon, leaned over curiously as Harry opened one of the letters, signed by Professor McGonagall.
Harry tore it open first—thankfully so. The letter read:
"Do not open the package on the table. It contains your new broomstick, the Nimbus 2000. I don’t want everyone to know you’ve received it, lest they all demand one."
"Cool!" Ron exclaimed enviously. "A Nimbus 2000! I’ve never even touched one!"
Harry, unable to hide his excitement, carefully ran his hand along the elongated parcel. His very first gift!
It was then he noticed the third package beside him—a square-shaped box.
