"Within the next year?" Adrian repeated, his eyebrows rising as a flicker of genuine surprise appeared across his face.
He was honestly puzzled by how Dumbledore had arrived at such a specific and seemingly confident timeline regarding Voldemort's return.
However, judging by the absolute seriousness etched into every wrinkle of Dumbledore's face, this was clearly no casual speculation or imagining.
"Could this assessment be based on one of Professor Trelawney's prophecies?" Adrian said cautiously, knowing that Trelawney's rare moments of real prophetic words had historically been proven accurate.
Dumbledore shook his head slightly.
"Not exactly..." He replied, his blue eyes taking on a distant quality. "The reason behind my conclusion is based on something else..."
He paused for several seconds, clearly wrestling with internal thoughts about security, timing, and the potential consequences of sharing too much sensitive intelligence too quickly.
Then, with an abrupt conversational change, he suddenly redirected their dialogue away from these topics.
"Well then, Professor Westeros," He said with new focus on immediate practical matters, "perhaps we should return our attention to the main topic at hand. Are you prepared to accept my invitation to join the Order of the Phoenix?"
Faced with such an obvious change of subject, Adrian could only shrug with helpless acceptance. If Dumbledore wasn't ready to share the full scope of his intelligence about Voldemort's resurrection timeline, no amount of gentle probing would convince him to reveal more than he judged appropriate under current circumstances.
"I will give your invitation serious and thorough consideration," Adrian replied with a slight nod. "If the situation becomes as critical as you suggest, I would certainly be prepared to contribute whatever help might be required."
Dumbledore appeared totally unsurprised by this restrained response, his expression showed that he had anticipated exactly this kind of thoughtful answer rather than immediate enthusiastic acceptance.
"We still have adequate time for careful discussion," He said with a patient tone. "You may consider all the relevant factors at whatever pace feels appropriate to your circumstances."
After concluding their discussion about the impending war, Dumbledore's demeanor shifted toward considerably more lighthearted concerns as he brought up the approaching Christmas Ball.
"I heard from various sources that our tournament champion has not yet begun preparations for the upcoming formal celebrations," He said with a smile that showed he found the situation amusing.
"If my information is accurate, Harry has not learned to dance yet. As the designated supervising professor for tournament matters, you certainly cannot let our champion to embarrass himself or by extension, Hogwarts during such a prestigious international event."
Adrian pointed at himself with an expression of complete astonishment, clearly having never considered that such responsibilities might fall under his professional duties.
"Wait just a moment!" He protested with genuine surprise. "Teaching students to dance is somehow included within my job scope as tournament supervisor?"
"Oh, absolutely," Dumbledore confirmed with cheerful certainty. "After all, you did receive quite a substantial bonus for accepting these additional responsibilities."
He gave Adrian a look of innocent expectation.
"Please proceed with arranging appropriate instruction, Professor Westeros. We still have about one week remaining before the ball, I believe that time should be sufficient for teaching basic ballroom skills."
Adrian rubbed his temples with both hands in a gesture of resigned acceptance mixed with considerable personal anxiety about the task he had just been assigned.
The uncomfortable truth was that he had absolutely no skill at all in the area of formal dancing. Or rather, to be completely honest about his limitations, he was spectacularly, embarrassingly terrible at any activity that required grace, rhythm, or coordinated movement that wasn't directly related to magical duels.
While he could perform precise footwork during intense dueling situations, when it came to the flowing, artistic movements required for ballroom dancing....
His attempts at such elegant things always resulted in clumsy stumbling.
In the past, when his sister had dragged him to dance, she always said he moved like a zombie with stiff limbs.
Fortunately, he was well-liked at school and could always find someone willing to help.
Two days later, Adrian sought out Harry Potter, who he discovered sitting alone at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall during what should have been the busy lunch period.
The dining hall buzzed with its usual noise of conversation, laughter, and the clatter of dishes, but Harry appeared completely disconnected from the social energy surrounding him.
He sat staring blankly at his largely untouched meal, mechanically poking at a fried egg with his fork while his eyes remained fixed on the flickering flames of the floating candles above the table. His expression showed that his mind was occupied with concerns far from food or interaction with his fellow students.
It wasn't until Adrian placed a gentle hand on his shoulder that Harry startled back to reality, his head jerking up with surprise.
"Oh... what's wrong, Professor?" He asked with a slightly disoriented tone.
"I was more curious about what's been occupying your thoughts so deeply," Adrian replied with genuine interest. "You seemed to be lost in some fairly serious contemplation there."
Harry glanced around the dining hall as if suddenly remembering where he was, then looked back at Adrian with a somewhat awkward smile.
If it was Professor Westeros asking, Harry felt comfortable sharing at least some of his current troubles.
"It's about finding an appropriate dance partner for the Christmas Ball," He said cautiously with reluctance. "The situation has become somewhat... complicated. What I'm trying to explain is that I've received numerous invitations during the past two days, and I've refused them all."
Upon hearing this, Adrian's expression shifted to one of complete puzzlement, clearly struggling to understand why such popularity would create a problem rather than a solution.
"Then what exactly is troubling you about this situation?" He asked in confusion. "Having multiple options would seem to make partner selection easier rather than more difficult."
"The problem is that I'm not sure my refusals have been entirely fair or appropriate," Harry explained, scratching the back of his head in puzzlement. "Some of these girls were very brave to approach me in the first place, and I feel like I might be hurting their feelings for reasons that aren't really their fault."
"Out of curiosity, exactly how many girls have you declined?" Adrian continued asking.
Harry took several moments to mentally review the increasingly long list of disappointed would-be partners, counting on his fingers as he recalled each awkward conversation and polite rejection.
If he included the earnest third-year Hufflepuff student who had approached him just after Herbology class, and the confident fifth-year Ravenclaw who had cornered him near the library entrance barely an hour ago...
"Twenty-three," He replied with obvious embarrassment.
Adrian fell into stunned silence for several seconds, clearly needing time to process such an extraordinary number.
"That truly is quite a remarkable level of social interest," He said slowly, his tone carrying hints of both amazement and sympathy for Harry's predicament.
Harry laughed helplessly.
Perhaps his outstanding performance during the Triwizard Tournament's first task had elevated his status within the school, or perhaps he simply was more attractive than he had previously realized. In any case, his popularity had reached levels that were creating as many problems as advantages.
"What about your actual target?" Adrian asked with a knowing smile that showed he had already guessed the source of Harry's reluctance to accept any of the available invitations.
"Come now, don't be shy about this. As the professor who probably knows you better than anyone else on the faculty, let me make a guess... The girl that Harry Potter truly wants to invite to the ball... Hmm, I think it should be Cho Chang from—"
Before Adrian could complete his speculation, Harry abruptly shot up from his seat and his chair scraped loudly against the stone floor. His ears immediately turned bright red.
"Please... please don't discuss this topic with me anymore, Professor," He stammered with embarrassment, his voice rising slightly above its normal range.
Adrian couldn't suppress a chuckle of amusement at such a perfectly predictable reaction.
He had simply been looking for a bit of harmless entertainment by teasing the boy about his obvious crush, but Harry's extreme embarrassment showed that perhaps this wasn't the most tactful moment to pursue such lighthearted torment.
Better to change the subject before Harry's discomfort affected his mood for the rest of the day.
"Speaking of which," Adrian said smoothly, redirecting their conversation toward safer grounds, "where are your friends this afternoon? Ron and Hermione should still have some free time before your next classes begin."
At the mention of his two closest friends, Harry released a long sigh.
In recent days, although Ron had indeed discovered clear direction and powerful motivation for his self-improvement efforts following his humiliating defeat, his newfound dedication had unfortunately evolved into something like an unhealthy obsession.
The alarming signs of this obsession included but were not limited to: suddenly rising in the middle of the night to read advanced dueling books by wandlight, abruptly beginning to practice complex spell-casting poses against invisible opponents in the middle of common room conversations, and even sneakily pulling out his wand to silently rehearse incantations while eating,….
"They were both sitting right here with me about five minutes ago," Harry explained with helpless exasperation. "Then Ron suddenly leaped to his feet with some sort of strange excited yell and rushed outside to practice spell combinations in the courtyard. As for Hermione—she's become convinced that Ron might need to visit Madam Pomfrey for a psychological evaluation."
"That sounds like a temporary adrenaline rather than a serious long-term problem," Adrian said calmly. "I think Ron is just experiencing a burst of enthusiasm that will naturally get down once he becomes more comfortable with his routine."
As long as this period of obsessive focus didn't extend for more than a few weeks, it would likely produce positive results without causing long-term psychological damage.
"I certainly hope you're correct," Harry nodded with relief at receiving such reassurance.
Then he looked at his professor with curiosity about the purpose of this unexpected conversation.
"So, what specifically brought you to seek me out this afternoon, Professor?" he asked.
"It's nothing particularly concerning," Adrian replied casually. "Simply that, as your designated supervising professor for tournament-related activities, I believe the time has arrived to provide you with some specialized training."
"Specialized training?" Harry's eyes immediately lit up with excitement and anticipation, clearly assuming this would involve advanced magical techniques or combat strategies. "Of course I'm willing to participate. That sounds incredible."
"Excellent," Adrian said with satisfaction at such instant enthusiasm. "This afternoon, immediately after you finish your Potions class with Professor Snape, please come directly to my office. I'll have all the necessary materials and equipment prepared for our session."
That afternoon, following Adrian's specific instructions, Harry made his way through the castle corridors toward the professor's office immediately after enduring what could only be described as another torturous session in Snape's dungeon laboratory.
'What an absolutely dreadful Potions class,' Harry thought with lingering frustration as he climbed the stairs away from the dungeons' oppressive atmosphere.
Although Snape had maintained his clear dislike for Harry consistently throughout three full years, lately his temperament seemed particularly unstable and unpredictable.
"Potter!" Snape's harsh voice still seemed to echo in Harry's memory like an unwelcome haunting. "Tell me immediately, what precisely do you do after adding the Billywig eyes to a properly prepared Euphoria Elixir..."
The memory of Snape's sudden roaring still made Harry's nerves twitch with lingering anxiety. As a Potions Master, Snape should certainly understand better than anyone what disastrous consequences could result from startling a student during the process of brewing.
Harry had been in the process of carefully measuring and adding seven drops of bubotuber pus to his gently simmering cauldron when Snape's shout had made him jump. His hand had jerked with surprise, causing him to pour the entire vial's contents into the brew in one terrible moment.
What made the situation exponentially worse was that Seamus Finnigan had been his partner at the time, stirring the potion according to the prescribed technique when the additional ingredients disrupted the balance.
The result was predictable.
The cauldron had immediately exploded, splashing its contents across Neville, who had been working at the adjacent station and had no opportunity to protect himself from the magical accident.
For this entirely predictable consequence of Snape's own disruptive behavior, both Harry and Seamus had received ten-point deductions from Gryffindor's house total.
The punishment was completely unreasonable and clearly unfair, but protesting would have only resulted in additional point loss and possibly detention.
Harry continued grumbling internally about this injustice as he approached the door of Adrian's office, trying to shake off the lingering irritation from his recent ordeal.
He took a deep breath to clear his mind of negative thoughts, consciously adjusted his facial expression to something more positive and receptive to learning, then raised his hand to knock on the door.
"Please come in," Adrian's voice called from within the office.
Harry pushed open the door and immediately froze in astonishment at the transformation.
The originally spacious but reasonably sized office had now been expanded through the application of Undetectable Extension charms, creating an interior area that now was nearly as large as the Great Hall. All of Adrian's usual furniture had been relocated to one corner of the room, where they sat in a crowded pile.
The central area of this magically expanded space had been cleared completely, creating what was a large practice arena. Throughout this open area, several dozen oddly-shaped mannequins had been placed.
Adrian was beside those mannequins, adjusting something with his hands.
Seeing this, Harry quickly jogged over.
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