The previous night.
After taking Leo back to the Gryffindor dormitory, Dumbledore made his way to the Potions classroom with an unusually serious expression.
“Still awake, Severus?” “…And whose fault do you think that is?” Snape replied irritably.
“Well?
Did your little conversation with William go well?” Dumbledore let out a long sigh.
“He is far too obsessed with strength.
I worry that if someone ever manages to tempt him…
he may willingly go looking for darker forms of power.” ‘You’re overthinking it.
Imagine worrying that a troll like him is going to start relying on Dark Magic,’ Snape thought.
“So you fought him?” “Yes.
Mr.
William is a very…
mm…
formidable child.” Dumbledore stroked his beard, looking as though the subject itself was giving him a headache.
“I have never once seen him cast a proper spell, yet there are many adult wizards who would not be his match.
Your comparison was rather impolite, Severus, but I must admit that his fighting style does bear some resemblance to a troll.” “Did you come here just to tell me that?” Snape asked.
“How is the dark wizard we captured?” Dumbledore changed the subject.
“I asked everything worth asking.” Snape’s expression sharpened.
“The werewolf knew the others.
They came to the Forbidden Forest searching for a magical ruin.” “What sort of ruin?” Dumbledore did not find the idea particularly strange.
Hogwarts had stood for a thousand years and held countless secrets, some of which even he did not know how to find.
The Chamber of Secrets was one obvious example.
“Gryffindor’s secret chamber.” Dumbledore paused.
“…His what?” He had certainly heard the legends surrounding Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets, but Godric Gryffindor building a hidden chamber to select some future heir?
That did not sound like Gryffindor at all.
“That is what he said.
Apparently, these Death Eaters found the claim in an old text.
According to it, Godric Gryffindor once followed Rowena Ravenclaw’s suggestion and worked together with Salazar Slytherin to construct a hidden chamber somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, one intended to be opened by someone a thousand years later.” “They risked entering Hogwarts territory over a single legend they could not even verify?” Dumbledore frowned.
“That makes very little sense.” “My guess is that someone tampered with their memories and then placed them under the Imperius Curse,” Snape said.
“That would make considerably more sense.” “Mm.
That is entirely possible.” “So what do we do with them now?” Snape asked.
“Turn them over to the Aurors.” Dumbledore considered it for a moment.
“I will explain the situation to Cornelius.
Hopefully, he will cooperate.” “You really think so?” Snape gave a derisive laugh.
He knew exactly what sort of man Cornelius Fudge was.
It would already be fortunate if the current Minister for Magic did not use the opportunity to make things more difficult for Dumbledore.
Cooperation was another matter entirely.
When Minister Millicent Bagnold stepped down in 1990, the position of Minister for Magic had been left open.
At the time, the two strongest candidates had been Dumbledore and Barty Crouch Sr.
Dumbledore had flatly refused the position, while Crouch’s public standing had collapsed after his son, Barty Crouch Jr., was exposed as a Death Eater.
That was how Fudge had managed to stumble into the job.
Fudge was mediocre at best and incompetent at worst, but when he first took office, he had made one remarkably clever decision: he asked Dumbledore for help.
He constantly sought Dumbledore’s advice, then quietly made sure people knew he was doing so.
By leaning on Dumbledore’s wisdom and reputation, Fudge had successfully stabilized his own position.
Once he had secured that power, however, who would an insecure, mediocre man who vastly overestimated his own abilities be most eager to undermine?
A difficult question indeed.
Dumbledore sighed again.
Of course he understood all of this, but what exactly was he supposed to do?
Use political maneuvering to remove Fudge and become Minister for Magic himself?
Perhaps the younger Dumbledore might once have done so.
The man he was now never would.
He avoided political power the way most people avoided a venomous snake.
Once, Dumbledore had possessed ambitions of his own.
When he had been with Gellert Grindelwald, the two of them had dreamed of forcing Muggles into submission and placing wizards above them as rulers of the world.
They had spoken of acting “for the greater good” and drawn others toward their cause.
But that version of Albus Dumbledore had died long ago in Godric’s Hollow.
..
“Wait…” Leo interrupted Snape’s explanation.
“What does any of this have to do with me?” “The Aurors are here,” Snape replied.
“As one of the people directly involved, you need to give them your account of what happened.” He glanced sideways at Leo.
“Conveniently enough, that also means you will miss Charms this afternoon.” “Listen to yourself.
Do I look like some delinquent who enjoys skipping class?” Leo protested.
“I’m your Potions representative.
Is this really how you should be speaking about me?” “Hmph.” Snape had no interest in continuing such a pointless conversation.
..
When they reached the Headmaster’s office, two Aurors were already waiting inside while Dumbledore chatted with them pleasantly.
“So this is the boy who subdued the dark wizards?” one of the Aurors asked.
“Yes, Ailio Yarrow.
This is Mr.
Leo William,” Dumbledore introduced warmly.
“William?” Yarrow raised an eyebrow.
“Your father wouldn’t happen to be—” “Geoffrey William.
Death Eater,” Leo said directly.
“…So it really is you.” Yarrow had clearly not expected Leo to admit it so bluntly and momentarily had no idea how to continue.
“Perhaps we should focus on the dark wizard,” the other Auror said, smoothing over the awkward moment.
“Hello.
David Williamson.
If I remember correctly, I suppose that makes me some sort of distant cousin of yours.” “Hello.” Leo nodded.
“What do you want to know?” He did not care much about the distant-cousin remark.
Wizarding Britain was small enough that most pure-blood families were connected somehow if one went far enough through the family tree.
“We already have the general outline from Headmaster Dumbledore,” David said.
“What we need now are some details.
How did you first discover the dark wizards?” “I heard them fighting the centaurs.” “That would have been late at night,” Yarrow said suspiciously.
“Are you telling me you heard a battle in the Forbidden Forest from inside your dormitory?” “I was out wandering the castle at night.
Didn’t you ever do that when you were a student?” “…Fine.
Then as a first-year student, your immediate response to hearing a battle was to run toward it?” “What’s wrong with that?” “And when you arrived, what did the dark wizards do?” “One of them immediately fired a Blasting Curse at my face.” “How did you know it was a Blasting Curse?
That is hardly first-year Charms material.” “Oh, I’d heard of it.” “Where?” “Family background.” “And how exactly did you defend yourself against the Blasting Curse?” Yarrow kept firing questions at him one after another, clearly looking for inconsistencies.
Perhaps it was because Leo’s father had been a Death Eater.
Perhaps Yarrow was trying to find something he could use against Dumbledore.
Whatever the reason, Leo was beginning to find the interrogation irritating.
“So, in the end, how did you defeat several adult dark wizards?” Yarrow pressed.
“They underestimated me.” Leo smiled faintly.
“They let me get within ten meters before any of them realized what was about to happen.” His eyes settled on the two Aurors.
“Just like you.” Tap.
In the next instant, Leo was standing directly behind Yarrow, one hand resting lightly on the Auror’s shoulder.