The logic Sebastian presented was as cold and hard as a Gringotts vault, and Dumbledore found himself completely stripped of any grounds for refusal.
Ultimately, if a second wizarding war was truly simmering beneath the surface of the Ministry's denial, the students currently roaming the halls of Hogwarts would be the first generation to be fed into the fire. If they didn't start practicing the "sharp" magic now, it would be far too late to learn how to dodge a killing curse once the green light started flying.
Moreover, Sebastian's strategic advice was remarkably sound. It wasn't just about aggression; it accounted for the holy trinity of combat: attack, defense, and the often-overlooked art of escape.
"The Armor Charm is a notoriously high hurdle," Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. "Even many Ministry clerks can't produce a Protego that would stop a stray stinging jinx, let alone a serious hex. And as for Disillusionment—or 'Ghost Magic' as you call it—the suffocating, cold sensation of being cloaked is something many young wizards simply cannot stomach. We have to consider how to address the physical and mental strain of these spells."
It was becoming clear to the Headmaster that simply cranking up the intensity of the curriculum wouldn't suffice. The professors would need to dedicate far more personal time to coaching. And as for Sebastian... the man was far too comfortable being "lazy" in his administrative role. He needed more weight on his shoulders to keep him from drifting off into his next alchemical scheme.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a slightly predatory warmth. "Sebastian, I find myself in complete agreement with your suggestions. However, while the three offensive spells are manageable, the Armor and Ghost charms are elite magic. Teaching them to the masses will require a monumental effort. You will have to put in a significant amount of work to see this through."
Sebastian merely nodded, unfazed. "As for the Disillusionment Charm, we can integrate it into the Dueling Club's curriculum. A few of the more combat-oriented professors and I can lead the instruction before the official Ministry inspectors arrive for the yearly reviews. It's about building tolerance to the sensation."
He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "And regarding the Shield Charm? I suggest we hire Fred and George Weasley as junior assistant instructors for the Dueling Club."
"The twins?" Dumbledore asked, surprised.
"Their 'Simplified Shield Hat' technology and the charms they've developed are easy to learn and master," Sebastian explained. "Using their simplified methods serves as a perfect scaffolding for the authentic Protego. It gives the students the 'feel' of the magic without the immediate mental block of the complex incantation. Professor McGonagall can verify their progress."
"That is quite true!" Minerva McGonagall chimed in, a rare, beaming smile breaking across her face.
The mention of the Weasley twins brought a glow of maternal pride to her eyes. They were Gryffindors, after all! She wasn't entirely sure when it had happened, but the two most notorious troublemakers in the castle had recently swapped their prank-war focus for a relentless, almost obsessive drive for innovation. Between their revolutionary navigation maps and their defensive enchantments, they had become the crown jewels of her House.
"Albus, Sebastian isn't exaggerating for effect," McGonagall continued. "Filius Flitwick and I have personally examined their simplified armor enchantments. They are pedagogically sound. They break the spell down into intuitive steps that significantly improve the efficiency of the learning process. Let's follow Sebastian's lead on this."
She then turned back to the Assistant Headmaster. "Sebastian, do you have any other cards to play? Or have we reached the end of your reform list?"
Sebastian paused, taking a slow sip of his cola, his expression turning purely professional. "Finally, I'm looking at the long game: student employment. The 'Mysterious Man' might not be back tomorrow, but graduation day comes every June like clockwork. Our students need to be employable in a competitive market."
His voice grew harder, more focused. "I've analyzed the 'good' jobs the students mentioned in the survey and mapped out their specific recruitment requirements. The Ministry of Magic's administrative roles are straightforward—they look at academic transcripts. If you have the grades, you're in. There's no secret sauce there."
He ticked off his fingers. "The second tier: Gringotts Spellbreakers. That's raw magical talent and grit. We can't 'teach' that through a shortcut; it requires the student's own internal fire. But the third tier... that's where we are failing."
"The specialized elite," Sebastian continued. "The Auror Office, St. Mungo's Healers, and my own Alchemy Workshop. These three require a level of specialization that seven years of general education simply can't provide. It's why Scrimgeour is complaining. For these roles, I propose Hogwarts enters into a formal 'Pre-Employment Training' partnership with these institutions."
"Pre-employment training?" McGonagall repeated, the term rolling off her tongue like a new spell. "How exactly would that function within our walls?"
Sebastian moistened his throat with the last of his cola. "Given the revenue projections from our Forbidden Forest development, Hogwarts will have enough gold to fund dedicated Alchemy classes by this time next year. So, the alchemists are covered. But for the others, we need a 'Visiting Professor' program."
"We reach out to St. Mungo's and the Auror Office," Sebastian proposed. "We ask them to send one of their most distinguished, field-active employees to Hogwarts as a visiting lecturer. This isn't just about guest speaking. It's about a dedicated course for sixth and seventh-year students who have already passed their OWLs and have the mental bandwidth to start planning their careers."
"That's... actually brilliant," McGonagall whispered. She could see the path clearly. "Sixth-year students often find themselves with a lighter load once they drop their less-loved subjects. They could volunteer for these specialized tracks—an 'Auror Track' or a 'Healer Track'—and meet the recruitment standards before they even sit for their NEWTs."
Sebastian added, "It shouldn't be limited to the seniors, either. I want the top five students from each of the lower grades—the ones who are bored because they learn too fast—to be allowed to shadow these sessions as an extracurricular. It gives them a target. It gives them a reason to keep their grades up in the 'Big Five' subjects."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his mind crunching the logistics. This would silenced the critics like Scrimgeour instantly. They couldn't complain about the quality of the graduates if they were the ones helping to train them.
However, a cold, sharp pain began to throb in the Headmaster's chest. Finance.
If these were "Visiting Lecturers," Hogwarts would be responsible for their salaries. And with the addition of Alchemy equipment next year, the school's vault was starting to look dangerously shallow.
I used to be so generous with the school's funds, Dumbledore thought with a internal sigh of shame. But Sebastian's constant 'reforms' are hemorrhaging gold. I've become a penny-pincher just to keep the lights on.
While the Headmaster was spiraling into a minor financial crisis, Sebastian's voice brought him back to reality.
Dumbledore's eyes landed on Sebastian. A realization hit him. Sebastian was a former Auror—and a damn good one, by all accounts. Why pay for a Ministry official when he had a perfectly capable, highly energetic, and arguably "under-tasked" Assistant Headmaster sitting right in front of him?
I was looking for a way to give him more responsibility, Dumbledore thought, a mischievous, slightly "shameless" plan forming in his mind. Young people have so much energy. It would be a waste not to utilize it. And the school saves a salary.
He pushed aside his guilt. Being a Headmaster required a certain level of shrewd, cold-hearted calculation.
"Sebastian," Dumbledore said, his voice dripping with a gentle, grandfatherly warmth that Sebastian immediately recognized as a trap. "Your idea for an Auror visiting lecturer is inspired. In fact, I believe we have a candidate who is over-qualified, already on-site, and possesses a deep, intimate understanding of our students' needs."
Sebastian froze, his glass halfway to his mouth. "Albus, don't."
"Would you like to take a guess at who I'm thinking of?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling with a brilliance that was almost blinding.