Hogwarts, eighth floor, Headmaster's office.
Snape and Sean stood before the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the spiraling staircase.
"Fizzing Whizzbees," Snape said flatly, his voice dripping with distaste.
Sean had grown accustomed to Dumbledore's peculiar taste in passwords—always some variety of Muggle sweet. Snape, however, couldn't quite hide his disgust at having to utter the name of yet another confection.
The gargoyle sprang aside, revealing the spiral staircase that carried them upward to the heavy oak door. They stepped into the Headmaster's office, and Sean immediately noticed the portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses scrutinizing him intently from their frames, as though conducting some silent investigation.
"Severus, Sean, welcome!" Dumbledore greeted them warmly from behind his desk. "What would you care to drink? Hot tea, perhaps? Pumpkin juice?"
"I require nothing," Snape said curtly.
The Slytherin Head of House maintained his characteristic aloofness.
Sean, however, wasn't nearly as austere as his professor, and he was genuinely thirsty. He nodded to Dumbledore. "Lemonade, please, Headmaster. Thank you."
"No need for thanks. After all, I was the one who invited you here for this conversation, was I not?"
With a casual flick of Dumbledore's hand, a tall glass of lemonade appeared on the desk before Sean. It contained an eighth of a fresh lime and several ice cubes—the standard Western preparation that Sean had grown used to during his time in the wizarding world.
Sean took a sip, savoring the cold citrus flavor, then met Dumbledore's gaze over the rim of his glass. "Professor Dumbledore, I believe we can begin our discussion."
Dumbledore studied Sean for a long moment, then sighed softly. "Sean, seeing you now reminds me so much of your grandfather Gideon when I knew him in his youth. He was extraordinarily talented, just as you are proving to be in Slytherin."
"I can't compare to my grandfather," Sean replied smoothly. "Back then, though he wasn't the absolute ruler of Slytherin, he was certainly a dominant force. At the very least, no one would have dared sneak into his private quarters to steal anything. So I'm nowhere near his level yet."
Though Sean's words seemed humble on the surface, Dumbledore, Snape, and even the former Headmasters listening from their portraits all understood the deeper implication beneath them.
Dumbledore's expression turned rueful. "Sean, I cannot deny that there were... lapses in oversight on my part regarding this incident. However, the magic you employed has caused Mr. Brooke considerable suffering. Madam Pomfrey estimates he'll require at least a month to recover fully."
"I'll apologize to him," Sean said immediately. "It was self-taught magic, after all. I didn't realize it would have such severe effects."
He's lying through his teeth, thought Dumbledore.
Absolutely lying, Snape agreed silently.
What utter rubbish, the portraits muttered to one another.
"Of course, it's not your fault," Dumbledore said aloud, maintaining his gentle tone. "Experimental magic naturally has its unpredictable elements. As for an apology... I think it's best to allow Mr. Brooke time to rest and recover first. Don't you agree?"
"Absolutely," Sean nodded. "After all, if he doesn't rest and recover properly, how will he manage the Ministry of Magic's investigation and trial?"
The office fell utterly silent.
Every portrait stopped whispering. Even Fawkes paused his preening.
Dumbledore glanced at Snape, hoping for some intervention, only to discover that his Potions Master had become intensely fascinated with examining his own fingernails.
Good grief, Dumbledore thought with genuine alarm.
Severus Snape—Slytherin's sharp-tongued king, the undisputed champion of cutting remarks, the perpetually serious and aloof Head of House—was studying his fingernails as though they were the most captivating thing in the world.
Dumbledore suddenly wondered if he had severely underestimated Sean's influence on Snape. He had intended for Snape to guide Sean onto the proper path, to temper the boy's more ruthless tendencies. What had happened instead? Snape had been influenced by Sean!
"Ahem..." Dumbledore coughed lightly, drawing Sean's attention once more. "Sean, I don't believe this matter needs to involve the Ministry of Magic, do you?"
Sean met Dumbledore's gaze steadily. He understood the Headmaster's philosophy perfectly well. Dumbledore always held the utmost goodwill and understanding toward Hogwarts students. Even when they made mistakes, as long as the transgressions weren't too serious or violated fundamental principles, Dumbledore preferred to resolve matters internally rather than escalating them to the Ministry.
Sean generally agreed with this approach. It was sensible and protected students from the often harsh and politically-motivated Ministry bureaucracy.
However, this time, Sean wasn't going to let Dumbledore have his way quite so easily.
"Professor Dumbledore," Sean said quietly, "if I didn't have the habit of carrying all my research data and materials with me at all times, what do you think would have happened? Most likely, my experimental data would have been stolen and leaked, wouldn't it? All my previous efforts and sacrifices would have been for nothing. And who would have stood up for me then?"
"Sean," Dumbledore replied gently, "but that didn't happen, did it?"
"It didn't happen because of my caution and preparation," Sean countered, his voice hardening slightly. "Not because of Mr. Brooke's restraint, and certainly not because of any mercy from those who sent him. Wouldn't you agree?"
Dumbledore regarded Sean seriously for several heartbeats. "Sean, I will seek justice for you. In fact, even without Mr. Brooke's involvement, I would still pursue justice on your behalf. You are a Hogwarts student, and there are individuals outside these walls coveting your research, going so far as to use Hogwarts students to do their dirty work. As Headmaster, I cannot shirk my responsibility. I must seek justice."
He paused, his blue eyes meeting Sean's gray ones. "At the same time, I hope you can show Mr. Brooke some mercy. He made a serious error in judgment, yes, but it didn't result in the catastrophic consequences it might have. I will remove him from his position as prefect immediately. I will disband the Slytherin Brotherhood reserve organization within Hogwarts. And I will prohibit the Slytherin Brotherhood from contacting current Hogwarts students. What do you think of these measures?"
Sean considered for a moment, then inclined his head. "Professor Dumbledore, these are matters within your authority as Headmaster. You may decide as you see fit."
"Thank you, Sean. I appreciate your understanding." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he gave Sean a small, knowing wink.
Sean set down his now-empty glass and rose from his chair. "If there's nothing else, Professor, I won't take up any more of your valuable time."
"Actually, Sean, please wait a moment." Dumbledore raised one hand. "There is one more matter I'd like to discuss with you."
Sean paused, settling back into his seat. "What is it, sir?"
Dumbledore smiled warmly and selected a sherbet lemon from the bowl on his desk, placing it on a small dish before Sean. "Mr. Antonius and Nicolas have been corresponding for quite some time now. Recently, Nicolas contacted me with a request. He wishes to speak with Mr. Antonius face-to-face."
The Headmaster's expression grew more animated. "As Nicolas's friend, I must tell you—I haven't seen him express such enthusiasm about leaving his home in many, many years. Therefore, if it's at all possible, I hope Mr. Antonius might agree to Nicolas's request for an in-person meeting."
Dumbledore leaned forward slightly. "I would be most grateful if you could convey this invitation to Mr. Antonius and encourage him to consider it favorably."