Immediately after her sugary opening remarks about happy faces and lovely Hogwarts, Umbridge launched into what could only be described as a long, excruciatingly dry, and utterly vapid speech that seemed designed to bore her audience into submission.
Her high, girlish voice droned on and on, filling the Great Hall with empty bureaucratic pomposity.
"The Ministry of Magic has always believed that educating young witches and wizards is a matter of the utmost vital importance to our society," she began, her hands clasped together in front of her chest in a gesture of false sincerity.
"The precious youth of our magical community represent our future, our hope, our legacy. Therefore, we must ensure they receive the proper guidance and instruction..."
The general gist of her seemingly endless speech for those still paying attention after the first few minutes was that the Ministry supposedly valued education very highly, that Hogwarts' traditional teaching methods needed innovation and reform, and that the Ministry, in its infinite wisdom and generosity, would graciously assist Hogwarts in thoroughly reforming its supposedly antiquated education system.
The speech was very official, very bureaucratic, and monumentally boring—full of empty platitudes, vague implications of problems never specifically identified, and promises of "improvements" never actually defined.
Just like the sort of meaningless political nonsense that certain Muggle leaders might deliver at a press conference.
Halfway through Umbridge's droning monologue, probably around the point where she started talking about "frameworks for improvement" and "structured developmental approaches"—Adrian completely gave up any pretense of listening.
He shifted his attention away from the pink-clad figure completely and directed his gaze up to study the enchanted star-covered ceiling with considerably more interest than he'd given Umbridge's speech.
The night sky was particularly beautiful tonight, he noticed. Clear and vast, with countless stars scattered across the darkness like diamonds on velvet.
Oh, that particular cluster of stars connected together in that section looked rather like a man wearing boiler suit and carrying some kind of tool.
Adrian amused himself by finding other patterns and shapes in the constellations, mentally connecting dots into increasingly absurd figures.
Down at the student tables, similar scenes of disengagement were playing out across the hall. Most students had given up listening within the first minute or two, their attention span was exhausted by Umbridge's tedious delivery.
After about five or six minutes, though it felt considerably longer to those suffering through it—Umbridge finally, mercifully concluded her utterly nutritionless remarks with a final simpering smile.
"And so, I look forward to working with you all in the coming year."
Scattered, halfhearted applause echoed weakly through the hall in response.
Most people, like Adrian, had either been studying the patterns woven into the tablecloth with intense fascination, or fiddling with their Chocolate Frog cards and comparing which wizards they'd collected, or simply staring blankly into space while thinking about absolutely anything other than Umbridge's speech.
A few students had actually fallen asleep with their eyes open, maintaining an upright posture through sheer habit.
As the last weak echo of applause died away, Professor Flitwick's high-pitched voice suddenly piped up beside Adrian.
"What do you think?" he asked in a low, curious tone, leaning slightly toward Adrian's chair.
"Hmm?" Adrian blinked, dragging his attention back down from the ceiling and turning to look at his colleague. "Think about what specifically?"
"I mean about Umbridge," Professor Flitwick clarified, glancing briefly at the pink-dressed woman who was now settling back into her seat with self-satisfaction. "That speech she just gave. Your assessment."
Adrian stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment, considering how tactful he should be, then apparently decided honesty was more important than politeness.
He said casually, his voice low enough that only Flitwick could hear, "What she said sounded more like the statements of a headmaster than anything else—more authoritative than even Dumbledore tends to be, actually. Of course, that would only make sense provided this wasn't Hogwarts she was trying to control."
He paused, then continued with less restraint.
"And... honestly, listening to her was rather disgusting. Like watching a toad crawl out of a pink swamp, covered in slime but trying to convince you it's beautiful. The disconnect between appearance and presentation is genuinely nauseating.
Well, I'm getting off track here—I know I shouldn't be describing someone's physical appearance in such terms, it's not professional or kind. But you know what I mean, don't you?"
The corner of Professor Flitwick's mouth twitched slightly with suppressed amusement and surprise at Adrian's uncharacteristically blunt critique.
This was genuinely the first time he'd heard such a sharp, cutting assessment from Adrian.
After all, Adrian had always given the general impression through both words and demeanor of being gentle, polite, and courteous even when he privately disagreed with people. He rarely spoke ill of others so directly.
However, Flitwick found himself in complete agreement with the sentiment Adrian had expressed, harsh as it was.
In any case, Umbridge's performance tonight had been absolutely dreadful on multiple levels—both her garish attire that clashed with everything around her, and her condescending speech that had managed to insult Hogwarts' entire teaching staff while pretending to offer help.
Adrian privately figured with reasonable certainty that no professor or student would develop any genuine fondness for her in the coming year, unless they happened to be cut from exactly the same cloth.
After Dumbledore finally stood and announced the other remaining matters like less important details like curfew times, reminders about restricted corridors, the schedule for the first Hogsmeade weekend—the welcoming feast officially ended at last.
Students began hoing out of the Great Hall in large, noisy groups, chattering excitedly about the new school year, reuniting with friends from other houses, heading toward their respective dormitories.
First-years, looking slightly overwhelmed and confused by the castle's complexity, needed to return to their respective common rooms under the guidance of their house prefects, who led them through the maze of corridors and staircases.
Incidentally, this year's Gryffindor prefects were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.
Harry was genuinely happy for them.
Adrian also departed the Great Hall and made his way through the familiar castle corridors, climbing the appropriate staircases and navigating the shortcuts, until he returned to his personal office quarters.
Two full months had passed since he'd last been here at the end of the previous term, but his office remained absolutely spotless.
Clearly the Hogwarts house-elves had been performing their cleaning duties with diligence and thoroughness even during the long summer when the castle stood mostly empty.
Adrian sank into his favorite soft armchair with a sigh of contentment. He'd just stretched out comfortably, beginning to relax after the long day of travel and the tedious feast, when there came a brisk knock at his door.
Knock, knock, knock.
Who on earth would be visiting at this relatively late hour? Most students would be relaxing into their dormitories, and surely the other professors would be doing the same.
"Come in," Adrian called out.
The door opened promptly, smoothly, and Dumbledore walked in.
"I hope I'm not disturbing your rest, Adrian," he said gently, his tone apologetic. "I know it's been a long day."
Seeing that it was Dumbledore rather than some student with an emergency or Umbridge with complaints, Adrian was somewhat surprised.
Dumbledore naturally, without waiting for invitation, settled himself into the floral-patterned armchair directly opposite Adrian's seat—his relaxed posture indicated this wasn't intended to be a brief, standing visit.
"Of course not, Professor," Adrian assured him, rising smoothly from his position. He walked over to the elegant tea cabinet in the corner and began expertly preparing tea.
"Is there something specific you need to discuss?" He asked over his shoulder while working.
"Oh, not at all. Just dropping by for a friendly chat," Dumbledore's bright gaze followed Adrian's movements with interest as he prepared the tea.
When he saw Adrian place the first sugar cube delicately into one of the cups with silver tongs, he spoke up quickly, "If you could... please add two more sugar cubes for me, if you don't mind. Thank you very much."
Adrian complied without comment, adding two additional sugar cubes to the teacup with a slight shake of his head. The amount of sugar was frankly excessive, turning the tea into something more resembling syrup than a proper beverage.
Fortunately, wizards with their enhanced constitutions and access to magical potions didn't need to worry quite as much about cavities and dental decay as Muggles did. Otherwise, Dumbledore would have lost all his teeth decades ago.
Dumbledore accepted the excessively sweet tea with obvious pleasure. He took a satisfied sip, closing his eyes in genuine contentment.
The hot, sugary liquid seemed to instantly dispel whatever fatigue he'd been carrying from the long feast and his interactions with Umbridge. His expression smoothed, tension leaving his shoulders.
"Let's get to business, then," Adrian said, returning to his own chair with his own cup. His tone was direct, cutting through the social pleasantries. "What's the real reason for this visit?"
Dumbledore opened his eyes and blinked innocently at Adrian over the rim of his teacup.
"Why would you automatically assume I necessarily came here on specific business?" He asked with what seemed like genuine puzzlement.
Adrian stared at him silently for a moment, his expression skeptical and unimpressed by this performance of innocent intent.
The silence stretched.
Well, Adrian thought with resignation, perhaps today the old headmaster really was just casually dropping by for social reasons.
At that moment, Dumbledore's naturally curious attention was drawn to something on Adrian's usually tidy desk—a pile of small black wooden pieces that hadn't been there at the end of last term.
The pieces appeared to have been carefully cut and shaped to a uniform size. Their surfaces had been sanded smooth and their edges rounded off. About a dozen or so pieces total, each only about a quarter the size of a human palm.
"What are these?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward in his chair with curiosity. He gestured toward the mysterious wooden pieces with one finger. "Some new project you've been working on? They look quite meticulously crafted."
"Protective charms," Adrian answered casually, reaching out to pick up one of the pieces. He turned it between his fingers, examining it in the lamplight as if checking his own workmanship. "Prepared for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—a little magical help against the position's curse."
He set the piece back down with the others.
Dumbledore's silver eyebrows rose sharply in genuine surprise, climbing almost to his hairline. "I didn't expect that, Adrian. How thoughtful of you."
Adrian made a noncommittal sound and pushed the entire pile of protective wooden pieces into his desk drawer with one hand. He closed the drawer gently, removing them from sight.
Then he shrugged with complete indifference. "If it weren't Umbridge who was coming to fill the position, I might have actually given them to her."
Dumbledore nodded slightly in understanding, a small, knowing smile appeared on his face. "Oh, it seems you really don't like her at all."
"Indeed, not at all," Adrian confirmed honestly, seeing no reason to pretend otherwise. "I'm curious, though—why did you agree to let Umbridge become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in the first place?"
He leaned forward slightly, genuinely interested in the answer.
Dumbledore took another light sip of his overly sweet tea before responding, his expression became more serious and resigned.
"Because she was the only candidate willing to take the position," He said simply, and the weariness in his voice made it clear this was absolute truth rather than excuse or exaggeration. "The only person who applied, in fact. No one else even considered it."
The reason was quite real and rather depressing when you thought about it.
Adrian felt somewhat helpless at this explanation.
The total number of British wizards was already extremely limited. And among that small pool, those both qualified to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and willing to come to Hogwarts to take the notoriously cursed position had probably all already been here at one point or another over the past decades.
The position had a terrible reputation. No sane, qualified wizard wanted it.
By now, finding anyone remotely qualified who would actually accept the job was indeed extremely difficult.
Dumbledore gently placed his teacup back onto its saucer with a soft clink a.
"I'm well aware of Fudge's true intentions in placing Umbridge at Hogwarts," He said remarkably calmly. "He wants to plant a pair of eyes and ears inside Hogwarts—his eyes and ears to report back to him constantly about my activities and Hogwarts' internal movements."
His blue eyes met Adrian's steadily over the rim of his spectacles.
"You don't need to care about Fudge at all," Adrian said bluntly. "Why bother pretending to cooperate or maintain cordial relations? Your relationship with him is already bad enough as it stands. It can't get much worse. So why not just ignore him completely? Refuse his demands?"
"Bad?" Dumbledore repeated, his tone remaining thoughtful and calm. "Not quite that severe, I'd say. Cornelius simply has a small—well, perhaps not so small misunderstanding about me and my intentions. That's all."
He gently stirred his teacup in small circles, watching the liquid swirl.
"He stubbornly believes that I'm plotting to seize his position. Yet, he absolutely refuses to believe or even seriously consider the real, genuine danger that I've repeatedly warned him about. However, he'll understand eventually."
Adrian wasn't quite sure what Dumbledore was actually thinking behind that calm facade, or what exactly he was planning to do about the Ministry situation and Fudge's obstruction.
If it were Adrian in Dumbledore's position... never mind, that would be far too troublesome and complicated. Politics gave him a headache.
He had absolutely no desire to get involved in those boring, tedious political activities and power struggles.
As long as Fudge and the Ministry didn't provoke him directly, didn't do anything catastrophically stupid that affected his life, or actively interfere with his own plans for dealing with Voldemort when the time came, then everything would be fine.
The conversation wasn't quite over yet when Dumbledore suddenly changed the subject.
"Speaking of which, Adrian, how are you finding life at Hogwarts overall?"
The question came somewhat abruptly and unexpectedly, catching Adrian slightly off guard.
"Being a professor here feels pretty good overall," Adrian replied after a moment's genuine thought, considering his honest feelings. "Though I do seem to run into troublesome matters every term."
"Hogwarts is a fine place despite its occasional excitement," Dumbledore agreed with a knowing smile. "Actually, Adrian, I think you could take on considerably more important responsibilities here beyond just teaching,"
He said carefully, watching Adrian's face for reaction. "Additional duties that would utilize your talents and judgment. For instance—how would you feel about accepting the position of Deputy Headmaster?"
"?"
Adrian hadn't expected Dumbledore to suddenly propose this, and his face showed confusion. "What about Professor McGonagall?"
"Minerva recently told me in confidence that she'd like to temporarily step down from her Deputy Headmaster duties for a while," Dumbledore explained smoothly. "And moreover—she specifically mentioned you when we discussed potential replacements. She has complete confidence in your abilities and judgment."
Adrian immediately suspected that Dumbledore simply lacked someone else to help him handle all the tedious administrative affairs and mountains of paperwork that came with running Hogwarts.
After all, Dumbledore had always been notorious for dumping the genuinely tedious work that should rightfully have been his responsibility as Headmaster onto Professor McGonagall's already overloaded plate.
She'd been his administrative shield for years, handling everything he found boring while he focused on what he considered more important matters.
Adrian certainly, absolutely wouldn't invite that kind of trouble by accepting this dubious promotion. Deputy Headmaster sounded prestigious but was really just code for "person who does all of Dumbledore's paperwork."
No thank you.
So without hesitation or false modesty—
"I refuse," Adrian answered flatly. "I appreciate the offer and the confidence, truly, but I may not have that much extra energy or time at the moment for additional administrative responsibilities."
"What a pity," Dumbledore said with apparent disappointment, though he didn't press the issue or try to convince Adrian further.
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