Professor Dovahkiin - Volume 1 Chapter 37 Ch. 37 Plots

Saturday, November 7th, 1992

The past week was a rather exciting time for the students. Not so much for me.

The day after Snape and I harvested the basilisk’s remains, Dumbledore informed the entire school of my feat during dinner. Dumbledore even created a life-size replica of the basilisk in the Great Hall to show the students.

I doubt Snape shared his memory of the Chamber, so Dumbledore must have gone into the Chamber before Snape and I met up. I’m not sure to be impressed or annoyed with him bypassing my wards without leaving a trace.

Then again, he is the Headmaster and has a phoenix for a familiar.

Regardless of how Dumbledore found out, the old goat gave an extremely altered version of events to the students. He claimed I discovered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets through my ‘vast’ historical knowledge. And when I explored the Chamber, I encountered the basilisk.

The way Dumbledore told it, I selflessly engaged the basilisk in a battle to the death due to my fear for the safety of the school!

Dumbledore did one decent thing. He protected Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter by excluding all of their involvement. Not a word was said about Ginny being possessed or Harry being a parselmouth.

After Dumbledore finished his tale, the students were looking at me with unbidden awe and excitement. Harry and Hermione’s reactions were the only things I found amusing about Dumbledore’s story.

I don’t think it took them long to assume the basilisk was what Harry was hearing in the halls. Judging by the blood rushing out of their faces at the sight of the basilisk replica, I’m willing to bet they regret their late-night search!

One of the few people not looking at me with wide eyes was Lockhart.

That fool got over his fear of me enough to persist he be allowed to write my story.

I couldn’t bring myself to hex the idiot. It felt like picking on an imbecile. I was firm with my refusals, but he continued to hound me for the right to publish the battle.

I have taken to hitting him with a Confundus Charm whenever I spot him approaching me.

I wasn’t happy with Dumbledore exposing me like that, to say the least. I couldn’t figure out his ploy, and I knew he had some plan in mind for it.

What was the old manipulator’s plan? He was obviously building up my image to the students, but for what reason?

My thoughts on Dumbledore’s story quickly turned for the worse, as I was constantly being hounded by students who wanted to know more about my battle.

The Gryffindors looked at me with worship in their eyes, and the Slytherins weren’t sure how to react to the news of me slaying Salazar Slytherin’s monster.

The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked at me with awe and excitement. I assume they saw my acts of vast knowledge and loyalty as the benchmark to aim for.

It wasn’t long before I was forced to use my Sling Ring and Invisibility spells to move about the castle.

I was able to use my time alone, to find the spells required for replicating the Marauder’s Map. On the third day of my search, I finally found everything I needed to create my own map.

It took me an entire evening to produce my own version of the map! I have to hand it to those four delinquents, creating this piece of magic was an impressive feat for students. None of the spells were overly complicated, but they must be cast in a specific order in-order-to create a properly functioning map.

Once my map was complete, it didn’t take me long to find Peter Pettigrew’s name in Gryffindor’s Tower.

I couldn’t just use this to storm the Tower and capture Wormtail. Even with the map, how would I know Pettigrew wasn’t a sixth or seventh-year student? Not every student was in the Dueling Club and saying I recognized a dead man’s name would be seen as Moody-level paranoia.

A solution dropped in my lap when McGonagall paid a visit one evening.

Apparently, McGonagall had received requests from the sixth and seventh-year students to take N.E.W.T. level History of Magic.

The requests were denied due to it already being two months into a school year. But I used this as an opportunity to ask McGonagall for the names of every sixth and seventh-year student. McGonagall saw no issue with it and promised to deliver the names in the next few days.

As a precaution for next year, McGonagall and I had to look up what was even on the N.E.W.T. level examination for History of Magic, because neither of us had a clue!

I’m sure my open schedule will be reduced come next year. Troublesome.

If that wasn’t bad enough, five days after Dumbledore told the students of the basilisk, I began getting a ridiculous amount of mail. From requests for interviews to Family Alliance offers.

Apparently, the story was leaked to the news and Major Families. It’s possible the Families heard from their children, but I have little doubt Dumbledore informed the newspapers.

The requests for interviews could easily be ignored. I could cite my obligations to Hogwarts being the cause of my refusal to sit for an interview.

However, Noble Families could not be ignored without political consequences. I wanted nothing to do with politics, but I couldn’t jeopardize my mission.

Needless to say, I was f.u.c.k.i.n.g furious. Even taking a flight over the Forbidden Forest in my dragon form didn’t cool my temper much.

As I was eating breakfast in my apartment, a regal-looking eagle owl landed on my window seal. Gently clutched in its talons was a crisp white envelope.

I exhaled a long sigh of annoyance before looking at the owl.

With a swirl of my finger, the letter flew over to me. I slowly levitated a piece of bacon to the huge eagle owl. “I do not blame the messenger,” I told the feathered messenger.

The dark owl made itself comfortable on the window sill as it devoured the bacon.

Ignoring the bird, I opened the envelope and began reading the parchment I found inside.

With each line I read, my anger built!

By the time I finished the letter, I had had enough!

Standing up, I prepare my Magicka. I take a step forward and step into the Headmaster’s Office.

A startled Dumbledore attempts to stand from his chair but is forced to sit back down by an invisible force.

I slowly stride to Dumbledore’s desk as he schools the surprise from his face. By the time I’m easing myself into the chair opposite him, he has assumed his typical appearance.

I don’t say a word as the recently-received letter floats into his hands. Dumbledore merely glances at the Ministry of Magic seal before he ignores the parchment.

I raise my arms out wide, “To what end?”

Dumbledore leans back in his chair and interlocks his fingers in front of his chest. “You single-handedly slew a thousand-year-old basilisk, potentially saving the lives of everyone at Hogwarts. None would doubt that as an act of outstanding bravery, and warrants the Order of Merlin, First Class.”

This bastard already knew! What am I saying, he’s probably the one that nominated me for the Order of Merlin?

I quickly think of possible angles Dumbledore could be playing at. It takes only a moment before I find the answer.

“You leaked the basilisk story to the newspapers and Major Families.” Dumbledore doesn’t even blink an eye at my accusation. “You are the one that submitted my nomination for an Order of Merlin, First Class. The only level of award that grants me a vote on the Wizengamot.”

I can’t help but give the man a slow clap. “Bravo, sir. Bravo. You have successfully pulled me into British politics. But I ask again, to what end?”

Dumbledore quietly stares at me for a long moment. After a long moment of silence, Dumbledore speaks up, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t find your arrival at Hogwarts suspicious. The entire situation put me on alert. After your interview, I decided to hire you solely so that I could keep an eye on you. You were much too dangerous to be left hiding in the shadows.”

Dumbledore’s blunt comment stalls my anger and increases my confusion. “You hired someone you viewed as suspicious just so you could keep an eye on them?”

A small smile spreads across Dumbledore’s face. “Inside Hogwarts, I am much more capable than many believe.”

And I thought I was acting arrogant!

Seeming to understand what I was thinking, Dumbledore spoke up. “You came here one of the most powerful wizards I have ever seen, seeking a job you did not need. You want to be here. Away from this castle, I would be blind to any possible schemes, but having you here…” Dumbledore finished with a small shrug of his shoulders.

Son of a bitch! I never viewed Dumbledore as a threat, and so I completely underestimated him. That turned out to be a mistake.

After a brief debate with Obliviating the old goat, I push those thoughts aside. He’s already brought the Wizengamot’s attention down on me.

Leaning back in my chair, I ask, “And why are you telling me this?”

Dumbledore drops his smile as he stares at me. “I had several theories about why you were seeking a job here. I was rather confused after observing several of your classes and hearing some of the conversations the students were having in the halls.

“I was further confused by your actions with the Dueling Club. Your actions gave the impression of one seeking to create their own following.”

“And why didn’t you step in before?” I was honestly curious about his answer.

“You made a statement in one of your classes. You said that you were not here to teach the students what to think, but teach them how to think. You even encouraged them to verify what you taught in class.

“But what drew my attention was your actions after the students were informed of you slaying the basilisk. You secluded yourself instead of taking advantage of the attention.” Dumbledore appeared proud of my actions.

I, in turn, was dumbfounded by Dumbledore’s actions. Did he not see that my ‘honesty’ with my students could be another way to build up their trust?

Ignoring the possible oversight, and I look into Dumbledore’s eyes. “You never did answer my first question. What good why come from me having a vote on the Wizengamot?”

Dumbledore gives a small nod of his head before stating in a quiet tone, “They need your help.”

I can’t help but shake my head at that. “Why would I want to help a band of corrupt politicians with delusions of grandeur?”

“No, not the Wizengamot,” Dumbledore says with a small shake of his head. “The children. Your very students. They are the ones that need you.”

I can’t help but laugh at that! “You wish for me to establish myself on the Wizengamot so that I’ll have influence over the students when they take over for their parents. Tell me, how has that worked out for you?”

Dumbledore completely ignores my remark. “The Dark Families have been more active lately. They are pushing harder on the Neutral Families, and there has been an increase in Supremacist legislation being brought before the Wizengamot.”

Once Dumbledore falls silent, I boldly state, “I fail to see how this involves me.”

“With the events of last year and the recently destroyed Horcrux, it would be safe to assume the Dark Families are preparing. We need to be ready.” Dumbledore said.

I tired sigh escapes me. “Again, I fail to see how this involves me. A single vote is meaningless if even one of the Neutral Families sides with Dark.”

Dumbledore shakes his head. “While an extra vote could make all the difference, that is not what I envisioned for you. I simply wish for you to be able to accurately discuss legislation that passes in your classes.”

I give the old goat a flat stare. “I already have a fixed lesson plan that I intend to abide by.”

I can just make out the downward turn of Dumbledore’s lips through his beard. “I have been meaning to ask, what does Dovahkiin mean?”

Caught off guard by the question, I scrunch my eyebrows together.

Dumbledore quickly interrupts my train of thought by explaining. “Dumbledore is Old English for ‘bumblebee’. McGonagall is Celtic for ‘son of the bravest’. But no matter what language I look into, I can’t find the meaning for Dovahkiin. I was hoping you could shed some light on that for me.”

Still unsure of what Dumbledore was getting at, I answer truthfully. “Dovahkiin means dragon born.”

“Ah, and what language would that be?” Dumbledore asked.

I can’t help giving a wide smile. “I find the fruits of our own labor the sweetest.”

Before Dumbledore could reply, McGonagall enters the room unannounced. “Headmaster, the Quidditch match will be starting shortly.”

My smile grows a bit more, no more answers for you old man! I need to start planning on how to deal with this shit.