Chapter 47: The Headmaster
The week after returning to Hogwarts flew by in what felt like a single day.
Training, studying, teaching students, lessons with Flitwick, which he had made considerably more intensive, time spent with friends... All of it quite literally left me no time to think about the world around me or about what awaited us at the end of the year. And yet, after the stutterer had disappeared from the school, they had hired a retired Auror in his place, who taught the subject to a reasonably decent standard.
He even tried to call me on the carpet, accusing me of truancy...
I did not object too strongly. I simply asked that any such summons be scheduled for the evening and coordinated with Flitwick, who serves as my mentor. In any case, all of that had happened back in the previous term, and after an examination by the Auror, I was deemed sufficiently proficient in Defense Against the Dark Arts that they would not bother me, at least not this year.
"Draco, we will have to postpone our lessons today..."
Flitwick did not look especially pleased, yet I could see that the postponement was unavoidable.
"Mentor, if it is necessary, I can easily study the material on my own while you are occupied with your..."
"You have misunderstood me slightly..."
Flitwick shook his head, and a displeased smirk appeared on his lips, one that barely concealed his teeth.
"The Headmaster asked me to arrange a meeting between you and him, and I could find no reason to refuse. So..."
"Well, if it is the Headmaster..."
I fell silent meaningfully, though not for long.
"...will you be present during the conversation, or one of my mothers?"
"I will."
I gave a satisfied nod.
"Then I see no point in delaying. The sooner we begin, the sooner we finish."
"Agreed... let us go..."
And Flitwick set off toward the door, not forgetting to hang a sign on it stating that he had gone to the Headmaster's office.
"Filius, Mr. Black..."
Dumbledore gave a genial nod as my mentor and I entered his office.
"...I apologize for interrupting your lessons, but... I simply could not overlook the diligence young Draco has been showing in his pursuit of magical knowledge."
His beard and mustache concealed nearly half of Dumbledore's face, which made him appear to be smiling perpetually, like a kindly grandfather. Yet I had seen his younger Wizarding photographs, and I now understood that he had deliberately grown his facial hair to conceal his expressive features.
"And what exactly is it that interests you?"
Flitwick did not beat around the bush, choosing to put that question to Dumbledore directly. But at that moment the phoenix took flight from its perch, circled the office, and landed on the back of my chair, where it gave me a sharp peck on the ear.
"Stop that..."
I shot the firebird a brief glance. It was holding back, but it clearly wanted to hurt me. It ignored me and pecked me again.
"Once more, and you'll be short a few feathers..."
"Draco, why so harsh? Phoenixes are creatures of light and fire, and it simply finds your dark magic somewhat disagreeable..."
Dumbledore tried to smooth things over.
"Headmaster, as far as I am aware, phoenixes are quite intelligent birds, which means they are held to a higher standard than a stupid hen..."
"...Bok-bok-bok?!"
The phoenix had clearly understood my words and ruffled its feathers indignantly, spreading its wings slightly.
"Were it a hen, I would simply brush it off the back of my chair. But a phoenix that is deliberately trying to hurt me..."
I shook my head.
"It cannot be encouraged to continue that behavior, or it will climb onto my shoulders and dangle its feet. Besides, you certainly have things you dislike, and so do I, and so does my mentor, and so does any thinking being. But that does not mean we set out to destroy, hurt, or harm the things or people we dislike in any way."
"Ahem... Fawkes, would you mind..."
Dumbledore gestured toward the perch, and the phoenix fluttered back to it with an offended chirp, though it continued to fix me with a scorching glare.
"...now then, Draco, would you tell me a little about how you see your life in the future?"
"Headmaster, could you be somewhat more specific? A question so abstract..."
I shook my head.
"...could take a couple of weeks to answer, though I doubt that is what you are after."
"Ho-ho-ho, it might well be interesting, but I'm afraid I certainly wouldn't have the time for it. Perhaps another occasion..."
He shook his head.
"To begin with, I'd like to know about your plans in the dueling arts. What do you wish to achieve?"
"Given who my mentor is, exactly?"
I smiled openly.
"I want to win tournaments for seven years. Not only in my own age group, but in the one above it as well, and if it comes down to it, the one above that too. In short, I want to make a name for myself."
I shrugged.
"That said, I have no intention of becoming a professional duelist. The Blacks are warriors first and foremost, so I shall strive to develop in a way that does not allow the dueling arts to crowd out the martial ones. The qualities required in those two disciplines are, after all, somewhat... at odds."
"But there have been no wars for a long time now..."
"The First World War... the Second..."
I looked at Dumbledore steadily.
"...I do not think a Third is impossible. By that point, however, Muggle weaponry will be so powerful that wizards will not be able to act covertly. That means one will need to possess sufficient strength to silence those who object. Though I would be nothing but glad if there were no war at all."
"Mm..."
Dumbledore was visibly chewing on his lip.
"...I am afraid I cannot claim that I misunderstand what you are speaking of."
"And then there are those two factions that were fighting on British soil not so long ago..."
"Ahem... yes..."
Dumbledore looked at me in surprise, while Flitwick was grinning broadly, quite clearly struggling to hold back a laugh that threatened to escape him, to the point where he looked rather unwell.
"Filius, if you are feeling unwell... you may leave us..."
"Not at all, Albus. I cannot leave my student here alone..."
Flitwick's tone made it clear that speaking was a considerable effort for him.
"Very well, perhaps... do you see yourself in the role of a teacher, Draco?"
I looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.
"It is not out of the question. I do enjoy teaching the younger students, though I cannot say that at this point I see myself devoting myself entirely to it. Unlike my mentor, I do not have... a teacher's instinct."
"Oh, I shall allow myself to disagree on that point..."
Flitwick gave an amused shake of his head.
"You have a remarkable ability, Draco, to hold the attention of the most demanding audience there is: first through third years. Honestly, I thought I would have to help you a great deal, calling students to order and confirming what you said at every turn. But... you have managed to earn considerable respect from the students. That is a considerable achievement at your age."
"Thank you..."
I smiled at my mentor.
"...but even so, I wouldn't exactly describe myself as wanting to spend my days teaching students. Perhaps as a private tutor... or as a master taking on a personal apprentice..."
I shrugged.
"...possibly at a private school, or even Hogwarts, if I were to teach for two or three years... But not in the way that you do, Professor..."
I shook my head, making it clear that I had no intention of devoting my entire life to teaching.
"Fair enough... It is too early to speak of this in any detail, but I believe that for these seven years you will certainly remain here as Professor Flitwick's assistant, and during that time you will be able to decide whether you enjoy this kind of work and how deeply you are prepared to commit to it."
I nodded in agreement.
"However, I should very much like to understand exactly how you envision your future... Such consultations usually take place considerably later, of course, but then students usually do not begin pushing themselves this hard until later, either..."
"Well, I suppose one could say that in some sense I shall be a Healer..."
"A Healer?"
There was skepticism in Dumbledore's voice, and a trace of puzzlement.
"In a sense."
I nodded in confirmation.
"But..."
Dumbledore shook his head.
"...my boy, you must understand that your magical energy is not particularly well suited to that path. No. History does record cases in which people with similar energy achieved remarkable success in Healing, but those cases, compared with the usual outcome..."
He shook his head.
"I understand that, and I did not say I would be a Healer outright. Though regarding my magical energy, you are mistaken. I can control mine with great precision, and while the Black family are mainly dark battle-mages, yes, and the Malfoys, from whom my biological father came, were hardly creatures of light either... control allows one to work miracles. As it stands, Healing spells are already within my reach, though the higher ones are still very, very far off."
"Ahem..."
Dumbledore shook his head, mildly surprised, and even Fawkes was looking at me with puzzlement and... was that respect?
"However, I did not say I would be a Healer outright. I understand my own strengths and limitations perfectly well. I said I would be a Healer in a sense. My gift is not rooted in healing as such, but it can be of great use in certain situations."
"I take it you will not tell me any more than that?"
Dumbledore tilted his head almost imperceptibly.
"Correct."
The office settled into silence, broken only by the soft sounds of the many small instruments arranged along the perimeter and the murmuring of the portraits on the walls.
"Hm... I believe..."
Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly with surprise.
"Wait a moment... by any chance, does your gift have any connection to Miss Daphne's current condition?"
"As I recall, they were searching for a wizard with a particular specialization who could help with a certain curse, but they had nothing to offer the professionals they found. Then... something strange happened, and they were left with only one daughter. The other, as it later became known, became your servant, and the family stopped looking for a specialist..."
One corner of my mouth lifted in a smile.
"Perhaps I simply found what they could offer a specialist?"
"Perhaps..."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. Even so, a glint behind his spectacles told me he had noted that I had not denied his supposition, but had merely offered a conjecture in return, worded in such a way as to leave his own hypothesis intact.
"...perhaps. So, as I understand it, you are not going to share your plans for life with me. You do not trust me..."
He said those last words with a trace of sadness.
"You are a politician. I do not consider you an embodiment of evil, as certain unkind tongues might suggest, but I do not consider you everyone's kindly grandfather either, one who helps all and sundry out of sheer goodness of heart."
I gave the faintest shrug, and Dumbledore responded to my words with an approving hum.
"Very well, then at least tell me this: do you already have a plan for your life ahead?"
"Well... it would be a lie to say I have never thought about it, but a plan..."
I shook my head.
"...more the outline of one."
"That is more than sufficient. And yes, I do hope that you will continue to bring honor to Hogwarts and to Britain in the future."
"If I have the opportunity to do so... and provided it brings no dishonor upon me..."
I gave a confirming nod.
"Very good. I think we can consider this conversation concluded."
Flitwick and I rose, said our farewells, and left Dumbledore's office.
"You were right not to lie or deny the truth. Had you done so, Dumbledore would have known that his suspicions were correct. As it is, while he is all but certain he is right, he will nonetheless be forced to doubt himself..."
"That was the idea..."
I nodded in agreement, settling into the chair across from Flitwick.
"I have no doubt he will find a way to confirm his theory before long. But let him expend some of his influence, his time, and perhaps pull a few strings in the process. And we shall watch..."
"Tch."
Flitwick winced slightly.
"You speak as though Dumbledore is the enemy, and yet you yourself said not a moment ago that you do not consider him to be."
"I do not..."
I shook my head.
"However, he is a political adversary of my family. Knowing what hidden resources he has at his disposal will be useful for any future confrontation."
"And is that confrontation inevitable?"
"Well, there is always the option of simply fleeing Britain and settling somewhere in France or Germany, where they don't tighten the screws quite so tightly..."
I shrugged.
"But I shall keep that as a last resort for my family..."
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