Bam!
The slam of glass barely registered amid the hum of clinking mugs and off-key singing. In the shadowed corner, three individuals sat cloaked in drink and muttered deliberation.
Having left the Greengrass manor, the three Ministry hardliners had only one thing in mind for the rest of the night: to drench their guts in alcohol until they forgot the whole day ever happened.
Unfortunately, they couldn't just walk into any wizarding pub to get wasted. If the press caught wind of three well-known officials getting hammered together, it wouldn't just make headlines. It would destroy their reputations completely.
So, in the end, they settled for a quiet Muggle bar and some good old-fashioned Muggle liquor. Sure, the stuff wouldn't get them properly drunk—because, well, they weren't Muggles—but they could pretend. And pretend they did.
"Haaah..."
Amelia Bones let out an exasperated, dramatic sigh.
"Honestly," she muttered while swirling the last of the liquid in her shot glass, "I'm starting to wonder if we were under some kind of Confundus... Otherwise, I'm sure we'd have reprimanded that mad kid for spouting half that madness."
"Come now, Madam Bones. You can't honestly pretend you weren't convinced by the young man's presentation. I saw that look in your eyes at the end, lady—"
"Shut it, Kingsley. At least I didn't call out Merlin's genitals after learning that lunatic is still not dead..."
Despite the head-throbbing predicament they found themselves in, the three of them still managed to share a laugh.
A silence here, a complaint there—a groan, a laugh—and glass after glass emptied into their stomachs as they failed to do what they had come here for.
After all, how do you pretend to forget something? No matter how many drinks they had, the Muggle alcohol wasn't even as comforting as a warm butterbeer. It barely took the edge off.
After a moment, Scrimgeour finally decided to address the elephant in the room. "Do you know what Gellert Grindelwald's most terrifying ability was?"
"Grindelwald?" Amelia chuckled, and poured herself another glass. "Are you officially classifying the kid as a Dark Lord now, Director?"
"No." The older man shook his head, slowly but firmly. "The kid's no Dark Lord. But they do have something in common... Grindelwald's most terrifying ability wasn't his magic—it was his tongue. They say anyone who listened to his speeches had no choice but to be seduced by them... to believe in his cause. And, well... I think I know that feeling now."
"Here's to us—two grown men and a woman—being seduced by a kid who's just crossed his teens, then..." Auror Shacklebolt said, unceremoniously raising his glass with a grin that showed all his teeth.
"Not get off, Kingsley..." Amelia said, but she was smiling anyway, and her glass still clinked against his.
Then, "Director…" she added, turning to Scrimgeour with a more serious look. "Tell me honestly... how much of it do you believe?"
"All of it, to be honest. The boy—like I said—did a fine job in convincing... mapped everything out and laid it all bare for us. Dates, names, locations… even the finer details, like manpower and placement during the main operation, were accounted for. His grand plan, if everything falls into place, will be…" He paused, then chuckled in spite of himself. "…for the greater good of the magical world."
"Dear Merlin… and his majestic beard." Amelia seems to have finally lost the last bit of fight in her after hearing her superior say it. She slumped her head down onto the table—once, twice, then a third time—before finally making up her mind.
Then, glancing between her two colleagues, the two people she'd trust with her life, she spoke seriously.
"For our children… our cousins, nieces, little brothers and sisters—I'll trust him then. But only after he convinces Albus Dumbledore. Until then, we pretend we never heard any of that madness in the first place. What do you think?"
"Until he convinces Albus Dumbledore, then…"
Clink.
Three glasses clinked together amidst the bustle inside the bar, and somehow, the three of them heard it clearly.
What they didn't know was that, at that very moment, a young man sitting at the table right next to them had heard their entire conversation from beginning to end.
With a satisfied smile, seeing that everything had worked out for the better, Maverick didn't linger there any longer. It had been a long night, and he had basically used every brain cell in his head trying to convince the three hardliners of his main objective. Fortunately, he succeeded.
Of course, he was not dumb enough to simply leave things as they were. He had set up safeguards on all three of them—a kind of blood oath, but without the nasty pain if someone were to break it. Just in case any of them got cold feet and tried to leak his plans, he would know immediately. Even if it was only a thought in their minds.
He got up, gave his coat a quick brush as if there was dust on it, dropped some coins on the table, and casually walked past the trio toward the door. Outside, the nearly full moon shone brilliantly over the city. Without looking back, he stepped out and disappeared into the night, jumping straight back to Hogwarts.
---
October rolled around, and while the calendar said it was autumn, the sky over Hogwarts had barely noticed. Still grey. Still miserable, thanks to the Dementors hovering over the castle. It had been a month since school started, and throughout all of September, the castle had barely seen any sunlight.
The wind had picked though, carrying that unmistakable bite of early autumn. The grounds were littered with fallen leaves, making a satisfying crunch every time someone walked over them. Rain came and went like it was on a random schedule, and by now, most students had ditched their lighter cloaks for the thick, heavy ones. Inside, the fireplaces were working overtime, crackling in almost every corridor and common room just to keep the chill away.
On a regular Monday during the first week of the month, Maverick stood at the front of his class, facing a sea of noisy, excitable teenagers. He should have been used to this by now, but today, his expression was as black as the bottom of a pot.
I should've just suggested letting the old bat handle it, like in the original story, he complained inwardly, letting out a resigned sigh.
Yesterday, he had finally carved out a bit of leisure time for himself after all the juggling between Hogwarts matters and his own business. He had his tea ready, a book in hand, and was just about to settle in for some light reading… when Dumbledore's glorified chicken burst into his office like it owned the place.
Without even giving him time to groan, the bird dropped a summons from its master, asking him to come to the office immediately.
Sighing, Maverick gave in, thinking it might actually be something urgent, so he let the bird flash him straight into Dumbledore's office. After all, the old man usually sends a Patronus for messages, and he doesn't send his phoenix to pick people up unless it's serious.
It wasn't serious. He saw Lupin was already there and didn't need to ask anything else. He knew exactly what this was about. So before Dumbledore could even motion to a chair, he shut the old man down.
"No!"
Unfortunately, that was not the end of it.
Fast forward to today, and here he was, standing in front of nearly four hundred students, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for the first time… while Remus Lupin was off doing his thing.
Why the change of heart?
Well, let's just say Dumbledore dangled quite the reward—access to some of his personal collection of rare texts. That, and a certain bird was now missing half its tail feathers, and only then did he agree. And that too for a maximum of two classes.
"Quiet!"
Maverick had to magically amplify his voice to cut through the loud chatter. This wasn't a normal classroom—it was the Great Hall, cleared of all tables and chairs to make space.
Why? Because the old man was a scammer. Even though Maverick had agreed to teach only two classes until Lupin got better, those two classes were actually multiple grades combined—Years 1–3 in one class, and Years 4–7 in the other.
In other words, he was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts to all seven grades for the time being. And today was the first group—First to Third Years.
About three hundred and seventy-something in total. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to use as class material, because he clearly couldn't use Lupin's notes to continue where he left off—after all, all three grades were lumped together now.
Maverick raised his hand to quiet the few remaining frenzied teenagers, and when the hall finally settled, his voice, devoid of the usual cheer he has in his other classes, reached the students' ears.
"Very good... I think we can skip the self-introductions. But since this isn't your usual kind of class, I won't be referring to any of your textbooks... so you might as well put them away."
As he said that, his eyes scanned the room for something he could use for Transfiguration and landed on a single chair near the staff entrance. With a casual flick of his wand, he summoned it beside him and began the lesson.
As for why he was using a wand—well, it was purely for demonstration. This was Defense Against the Dark Arts, after all. Unlike his official courses, this subject required students to learn actual spellwork. Simply waving his hand would only make things harder for them to follow, so it was better to let them clearly see the wand movements.
And since this would only be a temporary class, he didn't intend to overthink what to teach. Of course, he wasn't about to half-bake the responsibility either. He already had the perfect idea—two basic spells that were relatively safe, with immediate effects, making them ideal starting points for beginners.
It might be a little challenging for the younger students, but even so, it would still serve as a solid foundation for their grades ahead.
"Today, I plan to teach you two spells which I like to call as... the basics. In my opinion, they're two of the most important charms any witch or wizard should learn early on."
Everyone was paying attention intently, so he gave a small nod and continued.
"The first is Expelliarmus—the Disarming Charm. The second is Stupefy—the Stunning Spell."
The chair beside him seemed to melt into a silvery liquid, then rose into the air and shaped itself into the names of the spells he had just mentioned, floating clearly above his head for all the students to see.
"Once I've demonstrated them, you'll have the rest of the two-hour session to practice. If you need help, don't hesitate to come up and ask. And if you already know the spells I'm about to show, I'd appreciate it if you helped your classmates who don't."
"Alright. Let's begin."
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