"Welcome... May I ask your—"
The Auror standing guard at the office door had just opened his mouth when he looked up from his copy of The Daily Prophet. Upon seeing the legendary wizard approaching, his eyes widened.
"Ah... Headmaster Dumbledore!" he smiled respectfully, standing a little straighter. "Long time no see, sir."
"Auror Rowle, isn't it?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, a warm smile appearing on his weathered face. "It has been nearly ten years since you graduated from Hogwarts."
The Auror named Rowle looked incredibly pleased. "You actually remember me, sir?"
"Of course," Dumbledore nodded slightly. "I remember every single one of my students."
"Then, Headmaster Dumbledore... what brings you to the Ministry today?" The Auror tilted his head, glancing curiously at the two people standing behind the Headmaster.
When his eyes landed on Lupin's shabby robes, Rowle's polite smile vanished, replaced by a visible look of disgust. However, out of respect for Dumbledore's presence, the Auror merely coughed and looked away.
When his gaze shifted to Lyla, he paused entirely.
"Headmaster Dumbledore... is this your... granddaughter?" Rowle guessed. It was the only logical relationship he could think of.
"No, she is not," Dumbledore answered with an amused smile. "She is Miss Lola Hamier."
As he spoke the alias, he gently patted Lyla's shoulder.
Lyla flinched violently at the sudden touch, then offered the Auror a painfully stiff nod.
Although Dumbledore had briefed her on this fake identity beforehand, suddenly facing an unfamiliar Ministry Auror made her mind go completely blank. She bit her lip, unable to utter a single word.
'What a strange, quiet girl...' Seeing her absolute silence, Auror Rowle looked thoroughly confused.
"We are here for a scheduled meeting with Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour," Dumbledore said, stepping smoothly in front of Lyla to shield her. "May we go in?"
"These old bones of mine cannot stand in the corridor all day."
"Ah, my apologies, Headmaster! Please, come right in," Rowle said quickly. Without time to ask any further questions, he pushed open the heavy mahogany doors and led Dumbledore inside.
Lyla followed closely behind, keeping her head firmly bowed. She didn't dare make eye contact with anyone.
It wasn't that she was worried the Aurors would recognize her as Grindelwald's missing acolyte; she was simply overwhelmed by her severe social anxiety.
There were just too many people! Busy Ministry of Magic employees bustled back and forth down the corridors.
Dumbledore naturally drew a massive amount of attention wherever he went. Consequently, the employees' scrutinizing gazes naturally lingered on the shabby Lupin and the hooded Lyla.
Most Ministry employees sneered upon recognizing Lupin's lycanthropy, while their glances at Lyla were filled with sheer confusion.
But even those confused, passing glances were enough to drain the blood from Lyla's face. She clutched her hood tightly, desperately trying to ensure not a single strand of silver hair or the tip of her pointed ears slipped out.
"Miss Hamilton..." Lupin noticed Lyla's paralyzing tension. He subtly adjusted his pace, walking slightly beside her to block the brunt of the curious stares.
"Tha... thank you..." Lyla mumbled softly.
Her voice was so quiet it was completely drowned out by the echoing clatter of Aurors' boots on the floor.
'I am truly terrible at handling crowded situations,' she panicked. 'Especially when those crowds are composed entirely of government Aurors!' It made her incredibly dizzy.
Fortunately, Scrimgeour's inner office wasn't too far down the hall. Lyla managed to reach the doorway before she passed out from sheer terror.
"Head Auror Scrimgeour is right through here," Rowle said, bowing slightly. He then looked pointedly at the two companions.
"Mr. Lupin..."
Before the Auror could rudely tell him to stay out, Lupin nodded to himself. He gave Lyla a helpless, reassuring smile.
"I will wait out here for the Headmaster to finish."
Seeing Lupin being so cooperative, Rowle gave a curt nod and knocked firmly on the inner office door.
"Who is it?" a stern, raspy voice called from inside.
"Head Auror Scrimgeour, it is Headmaster Dumbledore and..." Rowle paused, checking his memory. "...Miss Hamier."
"Send them in."
As soon as the command was given, Dumbledore pushed the door open and strode confidently inside. Lyla nervously shuffled in behind him.
The office wasn't exceptionally large. Or, at least, Lyla didn't feel it was large, as she refused to look up from the thick carpet and mahogany floorboards.
"Good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore," Scrimgeour's voice rang out. He sounded like an incredibly uncompromising, intense man.
"Good morning, Rufus," Dumbledore smiled gently, radiating mild-mannered warmth. "It seems we haven't arrived too late."
"I do hope we aren't delaying your lunch."
His lighthearted joke completely failed to land; neither Lyla nor Scrimgeour even cracked a smile.
Lyla cautiously peeked up at Scrimgeour through her hood. Upon seeing his intense, yellowish eyes and a mane of tawny hair that made him look exactly like an aging lion, she immediately ducked her head again.
'He looks terrifying!'
"Alright, please take a seat," Scrimgeour said, clearing his throat to break the awkward silence.
As Dumbledore and Lyla sat in the plush chairs across from his desk, Scrimgeour's piercing eyes locked onto the hooded girl. "Headmaster Dumbledore, is this Miss Lola Hamier?"
"That is correct," Dumbledore nodded gently. "This is Miss Hamier, Hogwarts's new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the upcoming term."
Hearing herself introduced with such a prestigious title, Lyla instinctively froze. She knew she should say something polite to greet him, but the words refused to leave her throat.
'My stupid, clumsy mouth!' she mentally screamed, wishing she could slap herself.
But Scrimgeour didn't seem to mind her silence. He merely observed Lyla with the calculating gaze of a veteran Auror.
"While she certainly doesn't look like an academic professor," Scrimgeour remarked sharply, "she definitely has the instincts of a seasoned combatant."
'You're a combatant! Your whole family are combatants!' Lyla thought indignantly. She had no idea what gave her away.
"However, Headmaster," Scrimgeour leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "What the Ministry needs right now is a scholarly consultant who understands ancient Dark artifacts. Not... a duelist who holds her wand tightly concealed in her sleeve the entire time she is inside the Ministry."
His shockingly accurate observation made Lyla flinch. She quickly shrank back into her chair, her hand still gripping her ebony wand beneath her robes.
"Please believe me, Rufus. Miss Hamier's talent in magical artifacts is far greater than her talent in dueling," Dumbledore smiled slightly. "She is the single most knowledgeable expert on Magic Array Studies I have ever met."
"Magic Array Studies?" Scrimgeour raised a bushy eyebrow. His sharp eyes blinked behind his wire-rimmed spectacles.
"I have never heard of a... Miss Hamier who is a master of Ancient Runes and Arrays," Scrimgeour frowned suspiciously. "Headmaster Dumbledore, it isn't that I don't trust your judgment... but I cannot afford any oversights on this operation."
"This raid is of the utmost importance to the Ministry," he lowered his voice dangerously. "Especially after the... incident at Hogwarts last term."
'What kind of incident?' Lyla wondered silently.
'Was he talking about that Professor Quirrell person?' Lyla wasn't very clear on the details. She hadn't seen any reports about it in The Daily Prophet.
Only a conspiracy magazine called The Quibbler had mentioned Quirrell acting as a minion for Lord Voldemort. But since the editor-in-chief of that rag was the weird man who tried to sniff her in the wand shop, Lyla felt its journalistic integrity was highly questionable!
"I am well aware of the stakes, Rufus," Dumbledore replied, completely unbothered by Scrimgeour's intense scrutiny. "But I also believe Miss Hamier will not disappoint you."
'Wait! Stop talking, Dumbledore!' Lyla panicked internally. 'I'm not that amazing! What if Head Auror Scrimgeour expects me to fight a dozen Dark Wizards tomorrow?! I definitely can't do that!'
Hearing her fake name praised so highly, Lyla desperately wanted to clamp a hand over Dumbledore's mouth to stop his smug bragging. It wouldn't end well for her if Mr. Scrimgeour had high expectations!
"..."
Scrimgeour stared at them in silence for a long time before finally giving a curt nod. "Very well. I understand."
"Miss Hamier!" His voice suddenly boomed with military authority, startling Lyla so badly her hidden pointed ears stood straight up.
"Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp... I will personally lead the first Dark artifact inspection raid."
"Since Headmaster Dumbledore trusts you so implicitly... I greatly look forward to your performance in the field."
'No... please don't... don't expect anything from me!'
"Miss Hamilton? Miss Hamilton?"
Back in the safety of their parlor at the Leaky Cauldron, Dumbledore and Lupin exchanged concerned glances. They both stared at the highly distracted girl sitting rigidly in her chair.
"A spatial teleportation Array requires a runic Enchantment Array to provide a stable energy source, and their runic allocation ratio must strictly follow a one-to-three balance, and also..."
Ever since they had left Scrimgeour's office, Lyla had been rocking back and forth, frantically muttering complex Magic Array formulas under her breath.
"It seems Rufus may have placed a bit too much pressure on her," Dumbledore noted slowly.
"Head Auror Scrimgeour is indeed a bit..." Lupin paused, struggling to find a diplomatic word, "...intense."
"This operation seems a bit too much for Miss Hamilton to handle," Lupin said, looking at Dumbledore with genuine concern. "Perhaps we should find another—"
"No, Remus," Dumbledore shook his head decisively. "This matter must be handled by Miss Hamilton."
Dumbledore reached into his robes, pulling out a small object and placing it directly into Lupin's hand. "Give her this. It might help Miss Hamilton overcome her performance anxiety."
Looking at the pale girl who was still feverishly reciting ancient runes to herself, Dumbledore smiled lightly. "I believe Miss Hamilton is far less fragile than we imagine."
He was right. Lyla truly wasn't as fragile as she seemed... but that absolutely didn't mean she was brave!
"Good morning! May I ask... are you Miss Hamier?"
The following morning, the Ministry's new special consultant arrived at the Auror Headquarters, drawing the immediate, bewildered attention of an entire squad of Aurors.
It was a petite, trembling figure. Her entire head was completely obscured by an oversized black hood, and her face was entirely hidden behind a blank, silver mask.