The Hogwarts Express
The train rattled north, the English countryside blurring into a grey smear.
Dumbledore watched Ernst eat the Cockroach Cluster, his expression unreadable.
The old wizard was relieved that Ernst had accepted the terms, but a deep unease remained.
The magical world was fragile.
Grindelwald's war had left scars, and now, a new shadow was rising, Tom Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort.
Dumbledore didn't need another Dark Lord. And sitting across from him was a man who looked at magic not with wonder, but with the cold, dissecting gaze of a butcher eyeing a carcass.
"You are worried, Professor," Ernst observed, breaking the silence.
"The world is a heavy burden, Doctor," Dumbledore sighed.
"And power, once unleashed, is difficult to contain."
Ernst leaned forward.
"You try to control the river, Albus. You build dams. You manipulate the flow. But water always finds a way."
He looked Dumbledore in the eye.
"I know your history. You shape people."
Dumbledore stiffened. The mention of Riddle struck a nerve.
"I do what I must for the Greater Good," Dumbledore said quietly, the old slogan tasting like ash.
"Just be careful," Ernst warned.
"A man who controls everything eventually loses control of himself."
—----
Hogwarts
Night had fallen when they arrived.
The castle loomed against the sky, a chaotic silhouette of towers and turrets.
"Hogwarts," Dumbledore announced.
They entered the Great Hall.
The moving portraits whispered as they passed, and the ghosts paused in their drifting to stare at the two strangers in Muggle suits.
"Your quarters," Dumbledore said, stopping at a heavy oak door near the library.
"Comfortable, private, and isolated. You will not enter the dormitories. You will not disturb the students."
"A gilded cage," Ernst noted, inspecting the room.
"It will suffice."
The next morning, the education began.
Dumbledore started with the basics, Theory of Charms, First Year.
"Magic requires intent, pronunciation, and wand movement," Dumbledore began, drawing a diagram.
"Skip it," Ernst interrupted.
"I learned the rudimentary theory from Rasputin. He was a brute, but he understood the energy matrix. Show me the spell."
Dumbledore frowned but complied. He levitated a feather.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
Ernst watched. His eyes glowed faintly blue as he activated his enhanced perception.
He didn't see magic; he saw a bio-electric signal travel from Dumbledore's brain, down his arm, through the wand (a focus lens), and manipulate the local gravity field.
"Energy conversion," Ernst muttered.
"You're using the wand to shape ambient dimensional energy."
He didn't have a wand yet. He held out his hand. He replicated the bio-electric frequency he had just witnessed.
The feather shot up, slamming into the ceiling.
"Too much output," Ernst noted, adjusting his calculations.
"I need a regulator."
Dumbledore stared, his wand lowered.
"You... you did that without a focus?"
"It's just physics, Professor," Ernst said.
"Show me the next one."
For ten days, it went like this. Dumbledore would demonstrate a complex piece of Transfiguration or a Patronus, and Ernst would analyze the energy signature and replicate it within the hour.
It terrified Dumbledore. It had taken Tom Riddle years to master these arts.
Ernst was doing it in days.
Eventually, Dumbledore stopped the lessons.
"The library is yours, Doctor," Dumbledore said, looking old.
"I... I have school matters to attend to."
He was fleeing.
-----
Next Chapter is longer
-------------
Authors Note:
Do you want to read 25+ Chapters ahead right now?
Stop waiting. Come over to the dark side. We have cookies, advanced chapters, and very, very detailed 'plot.'
patreon.com/
Dark_sym