Chapter 25: Threats and Diplomacy—Dumbledore Means Business
The concert ended at half past ten, and by the time the pair returned to their new London home, it was already eleven-thirty.
It was a villa Rick had just bought, tucked away in Wimbledon, just a five-minute walk from Richmond Park.
But as they approached, an elderly man had been waiting at the door for some time.
Audrey's first thought upon seeing him was to run.
This was the danger she most wanted to avoid.
Albus Dumbledore.
"Good evening, both of you," the man greeted.
"Good evening, sir," Rick replied politely, though confusion flickered in his eyes. "And you are…?"
"I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your daughter has been accepted, so I have taken the liberty of visiting this evening to discuss Miss Audrey Astrey's schooling. Since Hogwarts is a boarding school, we require parental consent."
"But, sir—"
Rick started, but Dumbledore interrupted with a calm smile.
"I know what you're about to say, but why don't we step inside and talk?"
With a gentle tap of his old wand on the front door, it clicked open on its own. Dumbledore stepped in as if he were entering his own home.
With a flourish of his wand, teapots, cups, water, and even snacks floated neatly to the coffee table in the living room. Everything was in order, every item in its place.
Rick, hearing "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," thought he was facing a fraud—until he saw this display. He had met many renowned magicians internationally, but could any of them perform such magic?
Dumbledore seemed to read his thoughts. With another subtle tap of his wand, a vase on the table transformed into a pigeon that flew to the kitchen and returned with a sugar cube.
"This," he said, "is not sleight of hand. This is magic."
Rick's mouth fell open. He could only make incoherent noises.
"Because children born to ordinary families have never been exposed to the magical world, they require a professor like myself to make a house visit," Dumbledore continued, sending a cup of sweet tea floating before Rick. "Try it. Tea brewed by magic tastes a little different."
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Audrey interjected, stopping Rick from taking a sip, "it's already midnight. If my brother drinks this, how will he sleep tonight?"
"Oh, right! Right!" Rick nodded, sheepishly complying. Most of the time, his sister seemed far more sensible than he did, which frustrated him—but he was also proud. This was my sister, after all.
Dumbledore merely shook his head. "It's fine. To a wizard, helping a Muggle sleep is hardly more difficult than giving them water."
Encouraged, Rick drained the tea in one gulp.
"Delicious!" he exclaimed, astonished at the taste. It was his tea, his water, yet the flavor was unmatched. A strange, heartfelt joy bloomed within him.
Rick grinned like a fool, while Audrey's expression darkened. She knew Dumbledore had spiked the tea with a mild pleasure potion.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Audrey said, sternly, "whether magical or not, aren't you concerned about harming my brother's health?"
Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling. "Sharp girl. A touch of self-praise, perhaps, but I assure you, I am among the very best in the wizarding world. The potion dosage is perfectly safe. And it was concocted by our potion master using a secret formula—no side effects. I added a little extra merely to make our conversation more relaxed."
Rick patted Audrey's hand. "I'm fine, truly. Better than ever." He stuffed a small cookie in his mouth mid-sentence. "If possible, I'd even like a little more of this… marvelous… potion."
Dumbledore chuckled at Rick. "So, regarding Miss Audrey's schooling, what is your opinion?"
"I have no objections," Rick replied, "but ultimately, it's up to Audrey herself."
Dumbledore turned his gaze to Audrey.
Audrey exhaled silently. Really, her useless brother couldn't at least pretend to be protective? Now was the moment to stop her from leaving the Muggle world…
"Actually, I noticed something about Audrey when she was eleven," Rick began, startling both Dumbledore and Audrey. "She's not like other children. I knew early on she wasn't ordinary."
"Her talents, her oddities, the strange things she often brought home… Now it makes sense."
"She's a witch," Rick said, looking at Audrey. "She belongs among her kind. Though I hate to admit it, if you want to go, go ahead."
"Of course, this home will always be yours! If you find the wizarding world unpleasant, you can return anytime. Your brother will provide for you no matter what."
Audrey rolled her eyes. Who wanted to go to Hogwarts right now? And anyway, who was really supporting whom these days?
Still, a small warmth lingered in her heart. Somehow, she had ended up with this silly brother, and now it really felt like they were family.
Family or not, money mattered most. And thinking of money sparked an idea.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Audrey sat upright, serious, "do you know how much I earn in a day?"
Dumbledore shook his head.
"Five million pounds a year—and likely more in the future," she said, holding up her hand with five fingers spread wide. "If I attend your school, it would cost me tens of millions, maybe hundreds of millions in lost income."
Dumbledore's smile faltered. That was astronomical—even converted to Galleons, it surpassed ten million.
"And in your school, after graduation, would I earn that much?"
The answer was obvious: no. Even Professor McGonagall's salary barely reached two hundred Galleons a month.
Audrey smirked triumphantly. Perhaps she didn't need to flee to America after all. Money was invincible—even Dumbledore could not argue with it.
"So, if I attend, after losing all that, what exactly do I gain? A few fans in the wizarding world? Or perhaps your school can compensate for my financial losses?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. This child was far more difficult than the last time they met. He recalled how nervous she had been then, more like a mouse facing a cat.
"Mr. Astrey," Dumbledore said, ignoring Audrey's question, turning to Rick, "I would like to speak with Miss Astrey alone. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course," Rick replied, standing. The pleasure potion's effect was already fading. "Audrey, I'll go upstairs. Call me if you need anything."
Once only the old wizard and the young girl remained in the living room, Dumbledore's expression became measured, confident.
"Miss Audrey Astrey," the old man's enigmatic smile made her uneasy.
"Should I call you Poppy Graham… or Hydra Lestrange?"
Audrey: What the hell?!