Rouse gave a shy little smile. "You're the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. I was hoping you might help me get this wanted notice lifted."
Rouse's request was, in fact, perfectly reasonable. And it was clear this was his true purpose.
Dumbledore, however, fell silent. As expected—no one who volunteers to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts is ever a simple case.
Rouse Wilkinson, it turned out, was a wanted man. And here he was, standing brazenly in Dumbledore's office, utterly unafraid of being arrested on the spot.
Yet, just as Rouse himself had said, it was personal. Graves was clearly abusing his power, using public authority for private vengeance. Compared to the usual crop of dubious applicants, Rouse was almost respectable—his family name was clean, his record otherwise untainted.
Seeing Dumbledore's silence, Rouse thought he was about to be rejected. Quickly, he added, "You have my word, sir—what happened was nothing but an act of revenge. I'm not the sort of man who… misbehaves all the time.
"And besides, I did my homework before coming here. I checked on some of Hogwarts' professors. Most of them are single, aren't they? So, no… temptations to worry about!"
Dumbledore's eyelid twitched violently.
Merlin's beard—who was even worried about that?!
"Mr. Wilkinson," Dumbledore said at last, changing the subject, "could you demonstrate your magical abilities? The students' trust in this subject is badly shaken. They are desperate for a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor of true skill."
"No problem," Rouse replied cheerfully, and launched into a display right there in the office.
Don't be fooled by the way he had once been chased like a stray dog by four Aurors. One-on-one, Rouse might not always win, but he could certainly hold his ground. Not quite the level of the most accomplished professors, perhaps, but more than enough to teach students.
Dumbledore nodded repeatedly. Compared to Rouse, Lockhart was a fraud and Quirrell—well, Quirrell had been nothing but rotten meat wrapped in cloth.
"Mr. Wilkinson, I truly appreciate your interest in Hogwarts," Dumbledore said at length. "But I still need time to consider your suitability, and to evaluate other candidates."
Rouse's face fell. "Professor Dumbledore, I don't know a soul in Britain. I don't even have a place to stay…"
"That's easily remedied." Dumbledore offered him a small smile. "I'll arrange lodging for you until I reach a decision."
And so, Dumbledore escorted Rouse to the Hog's Head Inn at Hogsmeade, left him in Aberforth's care, and set about investigating further.
He didn't bother wasting time with America. Instead, he went straight to the International Confederation of Wizards' branch office in Britain and pulled Rouse Wilkinson's entire file.
After reading through it all, he found nothing concealed. No hidden scandals, no buried secrets. Rouse's background was, in fact, remarkably straightforward.
Still, Rouse's appearance gave Dumbledore a new idea.
Why limit himself to the tiny pool of candidates in Britain? The world was wide—surely it would be easier to find suitable professors if he broadened his search.
The very next day, Dumbledore told Rouse he had been hired. That evening, he would be formally introduced to the students.
Meanwhile, inside the castle, Tom had just finished Snape's substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. After parting ways with Daphne, he made his way to the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.
Seven days had passed. The mission status had shifted to completed.
[Host has completed the expulsion mission within seven days. Reward: Level advancement. Congratulations, host—you have earned 1,000 credits, 100 achievement points, and one advanced lottery draw.]
Tom now had over 800 achievement points. Summoning a third King of the Century was not far off.
But he hesitated. Should he summon another King of the Century? Or save his points for something greater—a true Immortal Legend as a teacher?
He already had Andros and Grindelwald—one light, one dark, one rooted in ancient magic, the other in modern sorcery. Together, they had given him everything he needed. Another King of the Century would surely help—each had their own unique mastery—but the benefit would never be as great as the first two.
What he really craved were the innate gifts of the Immortal Legends. His external resources were growing strong, but his own "hardware" still needed upgrading.
"Forget it. I'm still nearly two hundred points short. I'll decide once I have enough."
With that, Tom casually triggered the advanced lottery, hoping for a reward similar to the Meditation Room.
The lottery flared into radiant streams of light that filled his vision. Then, before him appeared a weathered, ancient scroll in the system's inventory.
He checked the details:
[Private Tutor's Contract (Advanced): Use to summon one private tutor at no cost. 5% chance of summoning an Immortal Legend, 20% chance of summoning a King of the Century, 75% chance of summoning a Great Figure of their Era.]
Tom's brows furrowed.
So… this is one of those gambles. Bet small, win big?
He hated games of chance. He always preferred to plan for the worst.
Yes, there was a 25% chance he could gain a teacher worth 1,000—or even 5,000—achievement points. But the other 75% meant he'd basically wasted it, getting someone worth only 100.
Still… if it's fate, it's fate. If it's disaster, you can't dodge it.
With a decisive breath, Tom activated the scroll.
His consciousness shifted into the study space, and he called Andros and Grindelwald to him.
"Get ready to meet a new colleague," Tom announced.
Andros's face lit with delight. "Finally, someone new!"
Even Grindelwald's eyes gleamed.
He had theorized about Tom's mysterious methods often, but never had the chance to witness it firsthand. Today, he would.
At Tom's command, the scroll dissolved in his hands. Golden and silver light burst forth, streaming from his body and soaring into the endless fog of the void.
Tom's heart sank halfway, then froze in confusion.
Gold was still gold. Silver still silver.
What in Merlin's name did that mean?