The door opened smoothly.
Alastair Salvius-P stepped into the office carrying a leather satchel over one shoulder. His robes were immaculate as always and his expression bore the calm confidence that had become so familiar to every professor present.
He paused just inside the doorway before offering a respectful incline of his head.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster."
His eyes swept across the assembled professors, and a hint of surprise crossed his face before it transformed into a pleasant smile.
"Oh."
He adjusted the satchel slightly.
"All of the professors are here."
He gave a small nod.
"That saves me the trouble of making separate trips."
Without another word, he opened the satchel and withdrew a neatly stacked collection of elegant cream-colored envelopes, each sealed with a deep emerald wax crest bearing the emblem of House Salvius.
The professors exchanged curious glances as Alastair approached the table.
One by one, he handed an envelope to each professor.
"For Professor Flitwick."
"For Professor Sprout."
"For Professor Snape."
"For Professor McGonagall."
Each accepted the invitation with varying expressions of curiosity.
"These are invitations to the opening ceremony of my projector shop."
His gaze briefly encompassed every professor gathered around the room.
"Without your guidance throughout the year, your lessons, and the knowledge each of you has shared, reaching this point would have been impossible."
His words carried genuine respect without sounding overly rehearsed.
"I sincerely hope all of you will honor me with your presence at the inauguration."
Only after every professor had received one did Alastair approach Dumbledore himself.
He presented the final envelope with both hands.
"Headmaster."
His smile remained courteous.
His tone became slightly warmer.
"I would especially like to invite you, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
He smiled politely.
"I'm certain you'll be there to celebrate the achievements of one of your students."
A brief pause followed.
"After all, you chose to remain at Hogwarts, giving up positions of tremendous influence because you believed educating the next generation was the greater calling."
The office became completely still.
An almost imperceptible silence settled over the office.
For anyone unfamiliar with Alastair, his words would have sounded like nothing more than a respectful compliment from a grateful student. Every sentence acknowledged the professors' contributions, praised the Headmaster's dedication to education, and politely requested their attendance at the opening of a business created by one of Hogwarts' own.
Yet Dumbledore heard considerably more than the words themselves.
This cunning child...
Dumbledore's smile never faltered, yet his mind was already dissecting every word.
He first thanks every professor together, then he separates my invitation from theirs... not to honor me, but to remind me.
He asked for two weeks away from Hogwarts to oversee this project, and I refused. I insisted his education came first and that the work could wait until the holidays.
Yet despite that refusal, he completed everything regardless.
His fingers rested lightly upon the envelope.
Another thought followed almost immediately.
Then he reminds everyone why I remained at Hogwarts instead of pursuing political office. If I decline the invitation of a student whose success was achieved and at such young age, it would seem as though I neither support my students nor take pride in their accomplishments.
Dumbledore almost chuckled inwardly.
An elegant move.
He has reminded me of my decision, demonstrated that my refusal did not stop him, thanked me regardless, and made accepting the invitation the only gracious response.
I wonder... did he plan every word beforehand, or does diplomacy simply come as naturally to him as breathing?
A gentle smile spread across Dumbledore's face.
"Of course, Mr. Salvius."
His voice retained its familiar warmth.
"I would be delighted to attend."
He lifted the envelope slightly.
"I find gatherings celebrating the accomplishments of students considerably more enjoyable than lengthy Wizengamot meetings."
A ripple of quiet amusement spread through the office.
"I appreciate it, Headmaster."
Alastair inclined his head respectfully before allowing his gaze to drift across the office.
Eventually it settled upon one of the portraits hanging behind the headmaster's chair.
Unlike several of the other former Headmasters, whose attention had been fixed upon the conversation from the beginning, the occupant of this portrait appeared to be sleeping peacefully. His chair was reclined, one hand rested upon an ornate walking stick, and a faint snore escaped him every few moments.
Alastair smiled faintly.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster Black."
Almost reluctantly, Phineas Nigellus Black opened one eye.
He looked around with obvious irritation before finally recognizing who had addressed him.
"Oh."
His expression relaxed slightly.
"Alastair."
Straightening himself with as much dignity as possible, he adjusted his robes.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Several professors exchanged subtle glances.
Phineas was rarely so courteous toward students.
Alastair offered another polite bow.
"My apologies for disturbing your rest, Headmaster Black."
"I wasn't sleeping."
"You were snoring," one elderly witch in a neighboring portrait muttered.
"I was thinking."
"Loudly."
Ignoring the interruption with practiced ease, Phineas returned his attention to Alastair.
"What did you wish to ask?"
"I wanted to know how Blake is doing."
The question immediately drew everyone's attention.
Phineas answered without hesitation.
"She's doing quite well."
There was a hint of approval in his voice.
"Rather busy, in fact."
He leaned back comfortably.
"She's helping with that... what was the name again?"
"The projector," Alastair supplied.
"Yes."
Phineas nodded.
"That projector."
"I must admit, I didn't entirely understand the idea when you first explained it."
A rare smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"She's been overseeing several aspects of the preparations and has thrown herself into the work with considerable enthusiasm."
Alastair looked genuinely pleased.
"I'm glad to hear that."
Phineas observed him quietly before continuing.
"She appears to have found something she enjoys."
Alastair's reply carried quiet sincerity.
"Thank you for letting me know."
The elderly Headmaster gave a slight nod.
"You're welcome."
The exchange ended there.
Turning away from the portrait, he faced the assembled professors once more.
"Headmaster."
He inclined his head toward Dumbledore before acknowledging the others.
"Professors."
"I won't take any more of your time."
He lightly adjusted the satchel resting against his shoulder.
"I still have several invitations left to deliver."
Professor Sprout smiled warmly.
"We'll certainly do our best to attend."
Professor Flitwick nodded enthusiastically.
"I've been curious about your projector ever since your first demonstration."
"I look forward to seeing the finished version."
McGonagall regarded him with quiet approval.
"You've accomplished quite a great deal during your first year, Mr. Salvius."
"I hope the opening proceeds smoothly."
"Thank you, Professor."
Even Snape chose to speak before Alastair reached the door.
"I shall reserve my judgment until I determine whether the finished product deserves the attention it has received."
His voice remained perfectly neutral.
There was neither praise nor criticism.
Coming from Severus Snape, however, it was perhaps the closest thing most students would ever receive to encouragement.
Alastair smiled knowingly.
"I wouldn't expect anything less, Professor."
Offering one final respectful bow, he opened the office door.
"I'll see all of you at the inauguration."
The heavy oak door closed quietly behind him.