0465 The Letters
The first day of school always brings with it a whirlwind of unexpected situations. The ancient stone corridors, usually silent and still during the summer months, suddenly burst into life with the excited chatter and hurried footsteps of returning students.
After indulging in thefortable life during summer vacation, the young wizards eager to reconnect with their ssmates and share tales of their summer adventures found themselves struggling to readjust to the early mornings and structured schedules that seemed so far away just yesterday.
The second morning of term was notorious for its high rate ofteness. Bleary-eyed students, still caught in the hazy dream of summer, stumbled out of bed far toote, resulting in a mad dash through the castle''s winding corridors. Their panicked faces, flushed with exertion and anxiety, became amon sight as they burst into ssrooms, muttering breathless apologies to stern-faced professors.
For the wide-eyed first-year wizards, newly arrived at Hogwarts, the challenges were even more daunting. The enormous castle became abyrinth of confusion and wonder. Lost and bewildered, these young students wandered the halls, their small faces a mixture of awe and dismay as they struggled to find their ssrooms amidst the chaos.
The castle itself seemed to delight in confounding the neers. Staircases shifted without warning, sending unsuspecting first-years stumbling as they tried to maintain their footing. Portraits called out misleading directions, their painted inhabitants chuckled mischievously as the confused students headed off in entirely wrong direction. Even the seemingly solid stone floors were treacherous, with vanishing steps appearing out of nowhere to trap unwary feet.
The hospital wing quickly became filled with a parade of minor injuries and magical mishaps.
Throughout the morning, the heads of houses were in a constant state of motion. Professor McGonagall, her usually stern face softened by a hint of sympathy, guided lost Gryffindors back to their tower. Professor Flitwick, barely visible above the sea of students, squeaked out directions to wayward Ravenws. Professor Sprout, her robes still smudged with mud from the greenhouses, patiently redirected Hufflepuffs who''ve wandered too close to the kitchens. Even Professor Snape, his ck robes billowing behind him like storm clouds, could be seen escorting confused Slytherins from the dungeons, his scowl slightly more noticeable than usual.
Filch too scurried through the halls with even more vigor than usual. His weathered face contorted into a scowl as he mopped up puddles left by rain-soaked students, muttering darkly about mud tracked across freshly cleaned floors, and chasing after Peeves the poltergeist, who seemed to have made it his personal mission to add to the day''s chaos.
At one point, even Dumbledore, with a cheerful smile, escorted two young wizards who had lost their way to his office back to their proper ssrooms.
But while the rest of the castle buzzed with the energetic chaos of a new school year, none of this frantic activity seemed to touch Bryan.
For Bryan, the summer had been a whirlwind of activity. He had traversed between Magical France and Britain, attending meetings, conducting research, andying the groundwork for Triwizard Tournament. The non-stop pace had left him longing for a moment of peace that now was ironically fulfilled after returning to school.
As the sun rose on this second day of term, Bryan slept until he woke up naturally. The soft morning light filtered through the enchanted windows of his quarters, gradually waking him from his slumber. There was no mad rush to dress, no frantic dash to make it to breakfast on time. Instead, he stretchednguidly, savoring the rare moment of rxation.
When he finally did emerge from his room, the Great Hall was nearly empty, thest dawdlers to breakfast were hurrying off to their first sses. Bryan helped himself to a leisurely meal, piling his te high with still-warm toast, perfectly scrambled eggs, and crisp bacon. The house-elves, ever attentive, ensured his tea was always hot and his juice ss never empty.
With breakfast taken care of, Bryan''s next stop was the library. The vast room, usually bustling with students, was eerily quiet at this hour. Madam Pince, the librarian, eyed him suspiciously as he made his way towards the Restricted Section.
In the dimly lit aisles of the Restricted Section, Bryan''s fingers danced over ancient spines, selecting tomes with titles that would make most students'' heads spin. Dark Detection in the Modern Age, Advanced Theories of Magical Monitoring, and Scrying and Surveince: A Comprehensive Guide were all into his arms.
With these books Bryan returned to his office. Settling into his favorite armchair, he spread the books out before him.
The morning passed in a blur of reading and note-taking, punctuated only by the asional sip of tea or bite of a pastry snuck from breakfast. It was not until the clock on his mantelpiece chimed half-past nine that Bryan reluctantly set aside his books and turned his attention to the more mundane aspects of his role at Hogwarts.
First on his agenda was a note to Hagrid, Bryan''s quill scratched across the parchment as he outlined his requests: arge order of Omniocrs and a diverse collection of alchemy materials. These items, seemingly random to an outside observer, were crucialponents in Bryan''s preparations for the uing Triwizard Tournament.
In his safety proposal previously submitted to the International Confederation of Wizards'' Competition Review Committee, he mentioned that Hogwarts would adopt a novel method to ensure the participants'' safety, as well as present thepetition progress to spectators in a more intuitive and spectacr way.
All of this will rely on his monitoring mirrors created with these Omniocrs.
However, the existing batch of mirrors, had been installed and dismantled repeatedly over the past two years. Between repeated instations and removals, and the unfortunate incident involving Ginny Weasley when she was possessed by Tom Riddle''s soul fragment, nearly half of the original set has been rendered unusable. This new order was essential to ensure Bryan had enough functional Omniocrs to implement his ns for the Tournament.
As he sealed the note to Hagrid with a dab of wax, Bryan reflected on Dumbledore''s wisdom in assigning most of Hogwarts'' purchasing responsibilities to Hagrid. Hagrid''s unwavering loyalty and simple honesty made him far more reliable in financial matters than someone like Filch, whose bitter character might have led to... creative ounting.
With the supply request taken care of, Bryan turned his attention to the towering stack of mail that had umted on his desk. Since his rise to fame earlier in the year for eliminating the notorious werewolf pack led by Fenrir Greyback, the volume of letters he receives has increased exponentially. In recent days, the influx has multiplied again.
Sorting through the pile, Bryan categorized the letters. The majority of these were from his admirers. These ranged from students confessing their undying love to middle-aged witches offering to knit him sweaters. While ttering, these were set aside.
More intriguing were the letters from renowned wizards in various academic fields. These intellectual letters discussedplex magical theories, posed challenging questions, and invited Bryan to contribute to ongoing research. Despite the temptation to dive into these intellectual discussions, Bryan knew he must prioritize.
The final category of letters, those from official organizations, needed his immediate attention. Among these was a regr dispatch from Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge. The pretense of this letters was to seek Bryan''s opinion as he was the Senior Advisor to MoM: on recent Ministry decisions supposedly asking for his opinion on their reasonableness, but both sender and recipient know they were nothing more than a courtesy notification.
Bryan couldn''t manage to reply to every letter like Lockhart did, but there were some important ones he must respond to.
One letter, in particr, caught Bryan''s eye. The parchment, thick and slightly yellowed with age, beared the seal of Gringotts Bank. More intriguingly, it was from the Paris headquarters rather than the more familiar London branch. Breaking the seal, Bryan unfurled the letter to find an inquiry from an interesting old goblin.
The goblin''s proposal was straightforward. It was a request to allow Gringotts to advertise at the Triwizard Tournament venue. They offered Hogwarts a generouspensation and subtly expressed to Bryan that his support would not be forgotten.
Bryan was indeed seeking funds for Hogwarts, so Barna''s proposal did tempt him somewhat. However, after some consideration, he still declined the request in his reply.
It wasn''t that he couldn''t persuade Dumbledore or find a way to justify this fund to the Board of Governors. Rather, for the first Triwizard Tournament in over a century, Bryan didn''t want too manymercial elements involved. While some level of sponsorship might be unavoidable, anything as tant as what Gringotts proposed felt inappropriate for the asion.
With a sigh, Bryan penned a polite but firm refusal to the Gringotts representative.
As the afternoon wore on, Bryan had nned to use the time to refine his teaching n for the next stage of his Physical Education ss.
However, just as he was settling in to work on his lesson ns, an unexpected letter arrived via a school owl. The bird swooped into his office through an open window, dropping the letter on his desk before perching expectantly on the back of a nearby chair. Bryan recognized the handwriting immediately: <strong>Sirius ck.</strong>
The contents of Sirius''s letter seemed urgent which prompted Bryan to abandon his carefullyid ns for a day of office work. With a resigned sigh, he penned a quick reply, agreeing to meet Sirius in Hogsmeade.
Donning a travel cloak, Bryan made his way out of the castle and down the path to Hogsmeade.
The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade''s popr pub and inn, was rtively quiet when Bryan arrived. The lunch rush had passed, and the dinner crowd had yet to arrive, leaving the warm, wood-paneled roomfortably uncrowded. Madam Rosmerta, the attractive proprietor, greeted Bryan with a wide smile and a knowing wink.
"The usual, Mr. Watson?" she asked, already reaching for a clean ss.
Bryan nodded, settling into a cozy booth in the corner. "Green tea, please, Madam Rosmerta. And perhaps some of those excellent ginger newts, if you have any?"
Rosmerta beamed at thepliment to her baking. "Coming right up, And... I don''t suppose I could trouble you for an autograph? My niece is a huge fan, you see..."
With a good-natured chuckle, Bryan agreed, scrawling his signature across a piece of parchment Rosmerta produced from her apron pocket. Her face lit up with delight as she tucked the autograph away, promising to return shortly with his order.
It was not long before the pub''s door swung open again, with Sirius and, somewhat to Bryan''s surprise, Remus entering. The two made their way to Bryan''s booth, Sirius''s face was a mix of anxiety and eagerness, while Remus maintained his usual calm demeanor.
As Rosmerta returned with Bryan''s tea and biscuits, Sirius ordered a Firewhisky, while Remus opted for a more modest butterbeer. Once the drinks were served and Rosmerta had moved out of earshot, Sirius leaned in, his voice low and urgent.
"How''s Harry? Is he still angry?"
Bryan couldn''t help but roll his eyes at the question. "Why would I know that?" he responded, unable to keep a note of irritation from his voice. "I''m not the little guy''s nanny."
Remus intervened before Sirius could retort. "Sirius had nned to go to King''s Cross yesterday to see Harry off to Hogwarts," he exined, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But he wasn''t sure if Harry was still angry with him. He ended up missing it due to his hesitation."
"By the time I got there, the Hogwarts Express was long gone!" Sirius eximed, pping the table in frustration. The action causes several nearby patrons to nce over curiously, prompting Remus to ce a calming hand on his friend''s arm.
Bryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture of mild exasperation. "I''m busy," he said tly without blushing. "I didn''te here to listen to how you n to resolve your father-son conflict."
"Bryan is right, Sirius," Remus said, his smile fading as he sat up straight. "It''s the first day of school at Hogwarts, and every professor has a mountain of things to do. We shouldn''t take up too much of his time."
Remus paused, his amber eyes flickering between Sirius and Bryan before he continued, "Let me start, Bryan. After you told me what you hoped I''d do, I wrote a letter to Dumbledore."
At the mention of Dumbledore, Bryan''s expression remained neutral, showing none of his thoughts. Remus, interpreting thisck of reaction as tacit approval, breathed a slight sigh of relief before pressing on.
"Albus gave me some advice," Remus exined, his voice low and measured. "He believes I shouldn''t constrain myself because of Harry. If I think what you''re asking me to do can demonstrate my proper self, then he thinks I should go ahead and do it."
Bryan nodded slightly. He expected that Remus would consult Dumbledore on this matter. It''s precisely why Bryan had taken the time to speak at length with Dumbledore just two nights prior,ying the groundwork for this very conversation.
Sirius, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, suddenly straightened up, his grey eyes sharpening with interest. It was clear from his expression that he, too, had made a simr choice to Remus, though perhaps with less hesitation.
Sensing the shift in mood, Bryan reached into the pocket of his robes.
"These are two letters of rmendation," Bryan exined sliding the envelopes across the table towards Sirius. "Without letting others find out, show Amelia Bones hers first, then take the other one to Fudge."
Sirius reached out, his fingers closing around the envelopes.
"Is this enough?" Sirius asked hesitantly. "I mean... are you sure you don''t need to speak to the Minister of Magic personally?"
"Don''t worry, it''s fine—" Bryan said calmly, "Cornelius Fudge will understand my meaning. If I were to make the request in person, it would put him in an awkward position."
"But Madam Bones is known for her fairness in the wizarding world. Will she be willing to let Sirius enter the Auror Office through your connection? And what about Rufus Scrimgeour?" Remus also raised his concerns.
"Fairness is situational," Bryan patiently exined to Remus. "Although Amelia is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, her control over the Ministry''s most elite magical armed forces is limited. I''m writing to her simply to inform her that Sirius is being introduced by me, and she will understand and support it. As for Rufus Scrimgeour, this matter only requires Fudge''s approval, and it''s not yet time for him to interfere."
Bryan looked at Sirius, who was listening intently, and paused before continuing, "You don''t need to think too much about conspiracies and schemes. Once you enter the Auror Office, just focus on demonstrating your abilities. If any situation arises, feel free to write to me anytime."
With these words of reassurance, Bryan nced towards the window, noting the position of the sun in the sky. The afternoon has worn on, and dinner time at Hogwarts was likely approaching. Recognizing the need to return to the castle, Bryan rose from his seat, bidding a quick farewell to Sirius and Remus before hurrying out of the Three Broomsticks.
Left alone in the booth, Sirius and Remus were looking at each other withplex emotions.
"When I was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts in the first half of the year, I even discussed with some young Gryffindor wizards about what NEWT scores were needed to be an Auror—" Sirius looked at the letter of Rmendation in his hand, shaking his head with emotion.
"That''s because the Ministry clearly recognizes that they don''t have many means to constrain a powerful wizard like Bryan. A powerful wizard in his early twenties..." Remus''s expression was equallyplex. "We should be grateful that Bryan is on our side. Otherwise, even with Dumbledore—"
"The Ministry is much more at ease with Dumbledore—" Siriusughed scornfully, seemingly thinking of something. "They probably think Dumbledore only has his reputation left to scare people, but in reality, he''s too old to even wave his wand—"
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