After securing the official approval from Professor McGonagall, Sebastian moved with the efficiency of a man who had already mapped out the entire board. In just twenty-four hours, he had finalized the magical contracts with both the Auror Office and St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
The agreements were meticulously drafted to be more than just ceremonial gestures. There were three pillars to this new bridge between education and industry:
First, visiting instructors were strictly mandated to go beyond dry lectures. They were required to provide "Operational Simulations"—controlled, high-stakes scenarios that would mimic real-world crises. The goal was for a student to walk out of Hogwarts on Friday and be a productive member of a magical team on Monday morning.
Second, the assessment system was overhauled. These visiting professors were tasked with keeping "Professional Portfolios" for every student, tracking not just their grades, but their practical reflexes, their psychological stability under pressure, and their ability to work in a cohesive unit.
Third, and perhaps most importantly, Sebastian introduced the "Fast-Track Referral System." If a student truly excelled in these specialized courses and earned a formal recommendation from the visiting instructor, they could bypass the traditional, grueling interview processes at the Ministry or St. Mungo's. It was a direct pipeline from the classroom to a career.
Once the last owl had been dispatched to Professor McGonagall's window, Sebastian leaned back in his leather chair, the wood creaking under his weight. He let out a long, ragged sigh of relief. The intense administrative storm had finally broken.
Finally... some peace, he thought, rubbing his eyes.
But then he remembered Mia. For the last two days, she had been pacing around the manor, mentioning Harry's name with increasing frequency. It had been a month since the boy was sent back to the Dursleys' house for the mandatory summer stay.
"I'm going to pick him up tonight," Sebastian muttered to the empty room, a small smile playing on his lips. "It'll give Mia the surprise she's been waiting for."
Before departing, Sebastian did something he never would have done in a previous life: he called Vernon Dursley. He wanted to ensure the "reception" was ready and that the Dursleys were in a sufficiently cooperative mood.
When Sebastian arrived at Privet Drive via Apparition, he felt a faint, distinct ripple in the local magical field. It was small, jittery, and entirely distinct from the steady wards of the house.
A magical ripple? Sebastian paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the manicured hedges. Is that Dobby? Or just some local magical residue?
Whoever—or whatever—it was, it was clever. The moment Sebastian's boots hit the pavement, the sensation vanished. The source had fled without a moment's hesitation. Sebastian chuckled to himself. If it was indeed the Malfoys' house-elf, the little creature was certainly fast. He almost felt the urge to hunt him down, catch the little "letter thief" by the scruff of his neck, and make him apologize to Harry for the month of isolation.
I must say, the commitment of that little thing is truly something else, Sebastian mused.
According to the original history, Dobby had been lurking in the bushes since the day Harry arrived, intercepting every piece of mail. It was a remarkably selfless, albeit incredibly annoying, approach. Even in the Malfoy household, there probably wasn't such a dedicated effort toward "protection." Poor Hedwig likely wanted to tear the elf's eyes out, but since owls couldn't talk, she was stuck in a silent, feathered fury.
Sebastian's mind wandered toward the nature of house-elves. They could sense their masters' calls across any distance and teleport instantly. It made him wonder... did Voldemort get his inspiration for the "Taboo" spell from these creatures? The idea that saying a name could trigger an instant location track felt remarkably similar to the elf-master bond.
Voldemort shares quite a few similarities with a house-elf when you think about it, Sebastian thought maliciously. A servant to his own obsession, bound by rules of his own making... though no one dares offer him a sock or a decent job.
He shook his head, clearing the dark humor from his mind. He didn't want to provoke the Dark Lord too much yet. It wouldn't do to have an aging, ego-bruised Voldemort lashing out and making all the house-elves disappear in a fit of rage.
Sebastian stepped up to Number 4 and rang the doorbell.
Ding-dong—Ding-dong—
Heavy, hurried footsteps echoed from inside. The door swung open to reveal Vernon Dursley, whose face had undergone a miraculous transformation from "purple-with-rage" to "obsequious-business-partner."
"Ah, Mr. Swann! Welcome, welcome to our humble home," Vernon chirped, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge being forced to sing. "Your presence truly makes this neighborhood feel... distinguished."
Harry appeared behind his uncle, looking utterly baffled. He watched with a mix of amusement and horror as his uncle—usually a man who moved with the grace of a falling boulder—practically danced around Sebastian to lead him into the living room.
Sebastian nodded to Harry, offering a reassuring wink, before turning his attention to Vernon.
"Good evening, Mr. Dursley," Sebastian said smoothly. "I appreciate you looking after Harry this month. I know the holidays can be a busy time for a man of your professional standing."
"Not a problem at all! It's been our pleasure," Vernon lied with the practiced ease of a corporate climber. "Harry is a much more... sensible young man these days. Hogwarts seems to have rubbed the rough edges off him. He even offered to buy us dinner the other night! I've always said, sending him to that school was the smartest move we ever made."
Sebastian nearly choked on his own amusement. Hogwarts? Vernon Dursley had actually pronounced the name correctly. In the original books, the man couldn't go five minutes without calling it "that freak school." It was amazing what a steady influx of "Swann Company" investment and a promotion could do for a man's vocabulary.
Money doesn't just talk, Sebastian thought. It sings the school song.
"Mr. Dursley, I've been reviewing the department reports over the last year," Sebastian said, giving Vernon a calculated dose of "corporate adrenaline."
Vernon straightened his tie, his eyes widening.
"Your performance has been exemplary," Sebastian continued, grinning. "The Grunnings merger was handled with real grit. However, I don't think your talents are limited to just a department head. If you keep this momentum for the next two years, I can see a very clear path to the General Manager's chair."
Vernon looked as though he might faint from joy. General Manager? CEO level? He could already see the bigger house, the faster car, and the look on the neighbors' faces.
"Mr. Swann, you have my word!" Vernon stammered, his face glowing. "I will work harder than anyone else in that building. I'll earn that position through sheer merit, sir!"
Harry, sitting on the edge of the sofa, opened his mouth to speak several times but found he couldn't get a word in edgewise. He just watched his uncle shower Sebastian with praise. It was bizarre, a little boring, but undeniably satisfying to see the man who used to lock him under a cupboard now acting like a waiter in an expensive restaurant.
Once Vernon was sufficiently pacified, Sebastian turned to the boy. "Harry, are your things ready? We should get moving if we want to catch Mia before she worries herself into a state."
"Already packed, Professor!" Harry said, jumping to his feet.
He raced upstairs and brought down his trunk and Hedwig's cage. As they made their way to the door, the entire Dursley family—even Petunia and Dudley—came out to the driveway to see them off.
Dudley, looking a bit sheepish, stepped forward. "Harry... I ate all those Chocolate Frogs you gave me. They were... well, they were alright. Could you bring some more next time?"
"No problem, Dudley," Harry laughed. This had been the first summer where he hadn't felt like a prisoner, and a few sweets were a small price to pay for peace.
Sebastian led Harry to the main road. With a sharp flick of his wand, he signaled the Knight Bus. The purple triple-decker roared out of thin air, screeching to a halt in a way that made Harry jump.
When they arrived at Swann Manor, the reception was loud and chaotic. Mia was overjoyed, pulling Harry into a hug and immediately fussing over whether he had been eating enough. To celebrate the boy's "rescue," she insisted that Sebastian cook a proper feast.
Sebastian didn't mind. He rolled up his sleeves, tied on an apron, and disappeared into the kitchen. Harry watched him go, his mouth already watering at the memory of Sebastian's last meal.
The three of them spent the night eating, laughing, and catching up. The house felt full again, the shadows of the Ministry and the coming war pushed back by the warmth of the hearth.
As the clock struck midnight and Harry prepared to head to his room, Sebastian stopped him at the base of the stairs.
"Get some good sleep tonight, Harry," Sebastian said, his voice dropping into a playful, secretive tone. "We aren't going to Snape's lab tomorrow for your tutoring."
Harry looked surprised. "No? Where are we going?"
Sebastian winked. "I'm taking you somewhere fun. Somewhere with a bit more... life."