0459 Ideas

0459 Ideas

Slytherin House's Head of House and Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had his office in the dungeons. Perhaps it was due to the constant dampness and darkness, but there was always a faint, musty smell lingering in the air. Coupled with the various potion ingredients and plant materials stored there, it was not a place most people would find pleasant.

Achoo—

Standing outside the office, Bryan was immediately hit by the odor seeping through the crack in the door, causing him to sneeze. He rubbed his nose and muttered a few words of discontent before bypassing the formality of knocking. Instead, he used magic to remove the protective wards guarding the office.

An eerie, greenish light seeped out from behind the now-open door. It emanated from a collection of jars filled with preserved plant and animal specimens, lining the wall. Snape turned his head, his face expressionless, and cast a cold glance at Bryan.

"I must say, I preferred your manners when you were a student at Hogwarts, Bryan," Snape said in his trademark icy tone. "You were much more polite back then."

"It was a necessity back then, Professor," Bryan replied calmly without flinching, slipping his wand back into the folds of his robes. "I'm not particularly fond of formalities these days."

Snape's lips curled into a mocking snort as he returned his attention to the task at hand, grinding lionfish spines into a fine powder over a shallow basin on his desk. It was clear from the man's brief demeanor that he was not in the most amiable of moods.

Undeterred, Bryan chuckled lightly and strolled past Snape, entering the smaller adjoining room where the school's rarest and most expensive potion ingredients were stored. Familiar with the space from his own student days, he began to inspect the meticulously organized shelves with open fascination.

"Hmm, a new shipment, I see," he murmured, plucking a small glass vial from the midst of a particularly well-stocked crate. Holding it up to the eerie green light, he examined the contents closely. "Ah, gillyweed – and in such perfect condition! This must have come directly from its natural habitat, not one of those dreadful wizard-bred varieties grown in bathtubs. This is worth a small fortune!"

"Put it down, Bryan," Snape said coldly, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder. "That is reserved for my seventh-year students preparing for their N.E.W.T.s."

"Of course, of course," Bryan acquiesced, carefully returning the vial to its place. His gaze continued to rove the shelves, taking in the dizzying collection of exotic ingredients before his attention was drawn to Snape's movements.

Professor Snape had finished grinding the lionfish spines and was now standing at the sink, meticulously washing his hands.

When Snape returned to his desk, he found Bryan wandering back into the main office and picking up a bottle of Invigoration Draught. Without waiting for permission, he uncorked the stopper and took a large sip, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

Snape's thin lips twitched at the casual disregard for his personal stores, but after taking a deep breath he managed to suppress the urge to throw Bryan out of his office. Instead, he stared at Bryan with a penetrating gaze, his voice deceptively calm as he asked a seemingly unrelated question.

"What's the deal with that woman?"

"Which woman are you referring to, Professor?" Bryan arched an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eye. "I know quite a few ladies—"

"The one who brought you such 'notoriety' that you even outshone our beloved Headmaster for a time," Snape replied calmly, ignoring Bryan's attempt at humor. "The papers say she's a dark witch from Albania, and that you once tried to put her in prison, but she escaped. Lately, finding the truth in the Daily Prophet is harder than getting a straight answer from that fugitive's godson."

It took Bryan a few seconds to realize who that "fugitive's godson" referred to. He chuckled, but rather than answer the question directly, he countered with one of his own.

"Didn't you ask Headmaster Dumbledore?"

As Bryan took his leave of the dungeons, Snape remained rooted to the spot, a haunted expression etched upon his features. He was beginning to realize that the Dark Lord was willing to stop at nothing to return to the public eye, forcing Snape to confront the ghosts of his past that he had tried so desperately to bury for years.

The night had deepened, and a torrential downpour now lashed against the windows of Hogwarts, the howling wind making the ancient castle feel as if it were sinking into the abyss, with nothing visible outside.

In his dimly lit office, Dumbledore sat behind his desk, dressed in a flowing nightgown and engrossed in the pages of a thick book. Apart from him, the previous headmasters in their portraits on the wall and Fawkes on his golden perch were all soundly asleep.

Dumbledore's calm demeanor did not seem to be disturbed by Bryan's sudden arrival though a trace of helplessness appeared on his wrinkled face when Bryan unceremoniously tossed a stack of documents onto the desk. However, when Bryan spoke his first sentence, Dumbledore's expression morphed from one of helplessness to one of sheer astonishment.

"Have you ever considered making Hogwarts independent, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

The warm and comfortable atmosphere in the circular office changed after Bryan's seemingly unintentional words, and became somewhat tense. Even the Sorting Hat, which had been diligently composing a song for the next evening's Sorting Ceremony from its perch on the shelf behind Dumbledore's chair, paused, its brim no longer swaying and a crack near the hat's edge, resembling a mouth, slowly opened.

Dumbledore, masking his surprise behind a composed expression, closed the book he had been reading. His piercing blue eyes, behind half-moon spectacles, bore into Bryan with a gaze as deep and heavy as the ocean, though his voice remained gentle.

"Making Hogwarts independent... That's an interesting thought, Bryan. When did you first come up with this—"

"Don't get me wrong, Headmaster—"

Bryan remained at ease despite Dumbledore's weighty gaze. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled slightly.

"I'm not suggesting that Hogwarts should become a second Ministry of Magic, vying for power with Cornelius Fudge's administration, and eventually replace them."

"What, then, do you mean?"

Dumbledore's gaze didn't waver.

"The only way for Hogwarts to be free from the Ministry's jurisdiction is if Hogwarts *is* the Ministry. Failing to see that would be foolish. What I'm saying is—" Bryan's eyes pointed to the stack of documents on Dumbledore's desk as he spoke calmly. "I do believe that having a Board of Governors overseeing Hogwarts is somewhat unnecessary."

A sudden silence fell over the room. The oppressive intensity of Dumbledore's gaze vanished as he took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair like Bryan, rubbing his brow gently.

In his sleep, Fawkes emitted a melodious, unconscious warble, while Phineas Nigellus Black, Sirius Black's great-great-grandfather and former Headmaster of Hogwarts, slyly opened one eye, casting a look of admiration toward Bryan before quickly pretending to be asleep again.

As Dumbledore looked at the young face across the desk, a face far more composed than most of his age but still vibrant with youthful energy compared to his own, his lips twitched slightly.

"You didn't come up with this idea just to get rid of these tedious application processes, did you, Bryan?"

"To be honest, a considerable part of the reason is because of this--" Bryan chuckled, his voice light and cheerful.

*******************************

For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy