Harry Potter : Bloodraven

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk in the headmaster's office, half-moon glasses perched on his nose. A parchment rested in his hands, and as he read, a knowing gleam sparkled in his blue eyes.

He sat upright, dressed in a purple robe over a crisp white shirt and gray vest, exuding both authority and ease. His neatly combed hair, streaked with silver, added to his quiet confidence.

Though he appeared to be in the prime of his life, there was a depth in his gaze that made him seem far older, wiser—someone who had seen more than his appearance let on.

The sun had been up for a while, and this was usually when he took some time for light reading before joining his staff and students for breakfast. But today, he had a feeling his usual routine would be different.

He set the parchment down and looked toward the door, as if expecting someone. Moments later, the door opened, and in walked his trusted deputy, Minerva McGonagall, followed by a young man he didn't recognize.

Dumbledore's curiosity piqued as his magical senses, always sharp, noticed something odd... nothing. The boy had almost no magical presence. His first thought was that this young man might not be a wizard at all. Then, he remembered a conversation with McGonagall from two years ago. He gave a small nod, silently agreeing with what she had said.

He watched the boy walk in, his posture calm but alert. Every step was measured and deliberate. At first glance, he seemed like any other young man, but Dumbledore could tell—this boy, though unassuming, was far from ordinary.

Setting his curiosity aside for the moment, he smiled warmly at both of them. "Minerva," he said in his rich, welcoming tone. "And you must be Mr Caesar."

Rising from his chair, he gestured to the seats across from his desk. "Please, take a seat."

McGonagall gave a polite nod and sat down first, and Maverick followed with quiet confidence.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Speaker Dumbledore," the boy greeted him politely before settling into the chair.

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Professor Dumbledore is fine, young man. Or Headmaster, if you prefer."

"We had a brief chat before coming, but I thought it best to include you as well…" McGonagall added, casting a glance at her mentor.

A comfortable silence settled over the room as they all relaxed into their seats.

"Well," Dumbledore nodded to McGonagall, then turned his attention to Maverick. "I've been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time, Mr. Caesar. But before we get into it, how about some tea? Or have you had breakfast yet?"

"Thank you, Professor, but I've already had breakfast and shared some tea with Professor McGonagall earlier."

Dumbledore smiled gently and nodded. "Very well, then. Let's get to the matter at hand." He reached into a drawer, retrieved a book, and placed it carefully on the desk. "I understand you wish to teach Muggle science here at Hogwarts."

Maverick subtly observed the famous wizard as he spoke. This was no frail old man—nothing like the typical wise wizard or a Gandalf figure.

To the average person, Dumbledore would appear to be nothing more than warm, friendly, and effortlessly charming.

But to Maverick, the calmness was almost too perfect, as if it had been honed over years of practice.

That was his conclusion, formed from his keen observations and his familiarity with the character of Albus Dumbledore from the stories he had read in his previous life.

There were no other subtle tells, no shifts in expression to analyze. His non-magical espionage skills were almost entirely useless against this quiet, controlled presence.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he maintained his steady confidence and replied, "Yes, Professor. I believe it's necessary for the British magical community to learn more about Muggle science."

Dumbledore's expression remained calm and measured, much like someone assessing a new staff member, as he listened to Maverick's answer. In truth, it wasn't far off.

He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment before speaking with a thoughtful tone.

"I've had a look at your work. It's impressive," he said. "The research and attention to detail really stand out. It's clear you've put a lot of thought into putting it all together."

He glanced briefly at McGonagall before turning back to Maverick. "We've talked about this already," he said, "and we both agree that the course materials are well-rounded."

Maverick could tell there was a "but" coming, but he didn't interject, allowing the wise wizard to finish first.

"But before we go any further, I would be most curious to hear your thoughts. Why do you believe it is so important for British witches and wizards to take your course, especially when we already have something quite similar in place?"

Maverick gathered his thoughts at Dumbledore's question. He decided to be blunt and met the old man's gaze. "The subject you're referring to... is it Muggle Studies?"

When the headmaster gave a small nod, he continued.

"Professor, I've reviewed Muggle Studies materials from several schools, and honestly, the Hogwarts curriculum... no offense, but it feels outdated—almost laughably so."

He paused, watching for any reaction, but neither Dumbledore nor McGonagall refuted his claim. Their expressions remained neutral, and the older wizard even chuckled lightly.

Maverick saw the amused curiosity in the old wizard's gaze before he asked, "That still doesn't explain why it's necessary to teach Muggle science to wizarding children."

"Don't get us wrong, Mr. Caesar," McGonagall chimed in. "We approve of your book. In fact, it's a well-organized course. We're simply curious—why do you think it's important for it to be taught?"

Maverick gave McGonagall a side glance before nodding and decided to go all out. He had prepared for this moment long ago and had the words ready.

"Professors," he began, his gaze moving from McGonagall and fixing on Dumbledore. "I've visited every corner of the world, magical and non-magical. It surprises me that this country, whose magical history is so rich, is now one of the most, if not the most, backward developing magical communities in the world."

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall raised a brow at his blunt statement but chose not to interrupt. Maverick took their silence as tacit agreement and continued.

"Muggle technology... it can't be ignored the way the British wizarding community is doing now," he said firmly. "It's advancing so rapidly that soon—I have no doubt—it will reach a point where it will seem indistinguishable from magic itself."

This time, McGonagall couldn't help but interject. "Surely, that's a rhetorical statement, isn't it?" she asked, her gaze curious as she looked at him.

Maverick turned his head, meeting her gaze directly. "I'm afraid not, Professor. Since Newton and Einstein, Muggle technology has advanced exponentially... frighteningly fast, even. Communication, entertainment, reconnaissance, energy, weaponry... every field has evolved at an incredible pace and continues to do so every day."

He glanced at Dumbledore, but the old wizard offered no objection, only a slight gesture with his hand to encourage him to continue.

"Do you know Stark, Professor?"

"I do," Dumbledore replied, his tone thoughtful. "I've met the man on a few occasions. A brilliant mind, though unfortunately, his genius seems directed toward pursuits that are... less, admirable."

Maverick nodded, continuing without hesitation. "First, it was Newton. Then Einstein. Each of them revolutionized the way Muggles understood the world and shaped their technological progress. And now, I believe Stark is next. He's already proving it with his innovations."

As he spoke, his mind briefly wandered. By the end of the year, if things followed the events of the MCU, the Stark couple would be killed by the Winter Soldier. He hadn't decided yet whether he would step in or not. That was a problem for another day. Right now, he needed to stay focused on the discussion.

"America, Russia, China... these superpowers have already started educating wizarding children about the wonders of science," Maverick said, his voice steady. "Everywhere I've been, it's already begun in their schools... except here, in Britain, Headmaster."

He paused, his gaze intensifying as he locked eyes with the older man. "When the inevitable happens, we'll be the only ones left behind, the only ones who haven't caught up with the rest of the world."

The room fell into silent. Neither professors spoke nor refuted his claim. Maverick didn't press further either, letting the weight of his words settle over them.

But before the silence could stretch too long, another voice broke through.

"Are you implying that the secrecy will soon be shattered, boy?"

The sound came from above and to his right. Maverick instinctively turned his head and saw the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses staring at him, their eyes sharp and curious, as though he were an anomaly.

Just as Maverick's gaze lingered on the curious faces in the portraits, Dumbledore's voice gently pulled his attention back to the living.

"Well," the old wizard began, his tone thoughtful, "this isn't quite where I thought our discussion would be heading… but," he glanced briefly at McGonagall, who remained silent, though it was clear she was teetering on the edge of asking her own questions, "I can't say I disagree, young man."

Maverick raised an eyebrow. That wasn't what he expected to hear from the old wizard. He glanced at McGonagall, but she didn't seem as calm or accepting as Dumbledore. It was clear she had something on her mind.

Maverick heard the older man chuckle, and when he turned back, he saw an amused glint in Dumbledore's eyes.

"We may be wizards who care little for how Muggles are evolving," Dumbledore said with a trace of humor, "but we are neither ignorant nor stupid." He cast a glance at his deputy. "Isn't that right, Minerva?"

McGonagall quickly regained her composure. Normally, she was calm and unshaken in any situation, but she realized she had slipped slightly today in front of this junior. Thankfully, her boss had stepped in.

"That is correct," she said firmly. "Your claims hold some truth, and we haven't been blind to it either."

Maverick cast a scrutinizing look at the two wizards. "Then why, may I ask?"

At his question, Dumbledore sighed—a weary sound, as if faced with a task not impossible but undeniably difficult. "To be perfectly honest, we simply haven't had the time..."

Maverick raised an eyebrow. Two words came to mind: bullshit. Deciding to push further now that this topic had surfaced earlier than planned, he said, "Professor, isn't it ironic that the headmaster and deputy headmistress of such a prestigious school are guilty of procrastination?"

Dumbledore burst into laughter, a deep, genuine sound that filled the room. Even McGonagall couldn't suppress a chuckle, though she shook her head at his audacity.

A comfortable silence settled over the room, dissolving the earlier tension, until Dumbledore spoke once more.

"I agree, Mr. Caesar. It would be a pleasure to have you join us as a professor at Hogwarts. Though, I must say, our plans may differ slightly from what you have in mind."

Maverick noted how effortlessly the old wizard steered the conversation in a new direction. He chose not to press further. This discussion could always resume at another time.

Maverick's eyes lit up at Dumbledore's sudden declaration, and he met the older man's gaze.

"Don't look so surprised, Mr. Caesar," Dumbledore said with a faint smile. "In truth, even if your book hadn't been as impressive, or if the discussion we just had wasn't as insightful, we still intended to bring you on board. In fact, had you delayed in sending your manuscript to Professor McGonagall, I would have instructed her to send you an invitation myself."

Maverick cast a genuinely puzzled glance at both of them, and McGonagall met his gaze with a faintly amused expression.

"Mr. Caesar, are you forgetting that you're a master alchemist? The youngest ever recorded in modern magical history?" she said, her tone carrying a hint of pride, even though she had no part in his accomplishment. That was simply who she was—a witch of great character, free from unnecessary feelings like jealousy.

Maverick silently gave a mental five-star review to the motherly witch before returning to the matter at hand.

He now understood what both of them were implying, but he had never planned to become a professor of alchemy—and still didn't. Without missing a beat, he responded firmly, "But, Professor, I wish to teach Muggle science, not alchemy."

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Author's Note:

Just a quick update — up to Chapter 95 is already available on P AT r30n!

PAT r30n [.] com / RyanFic