It had been a strange start to term.
Even for Albus Dumbledore, who had seen more peculiar years than most men had birthdays, this one felt… different.
The air around Hogwarts seemed heavier — alive with the hum of something older than the walls themselves.
First came the arrival of this years first years, mainly Harry Potter the boy destined to vanquish the Dark Lord, then Neville Longbottom, the boy prophecied to become the next Dark Lord.
Except that Potter wound up in Slytherin, "Where wizards go, to go bad" while Neville landed in Hufflepuff, where loyalty meant everything.
Was he wrong in choosing one family over another, had he gotten it wrong, with Neville actually being the saviour, while Potter would take over Voldemorts mantle?
And lastly Cassius Snape a son sprung from nowhere with a title greater than the previous two.
Compared to the Saviour or next dark lord, True Heir to the founders of hogwarts own self was simply to vast.
And with it came the resurrection of House Draconis the origional house of Hogwarts before the founders created their own seperate houses.
~
The next sign of trouble came in the second week
It was just after breakfast when Minerva entered his office, her lips pressed thin and her expression thunderous.
In her hands she carried a sheaf of parchment bound with blue ribbon, bearing a seal from the Ministry of Magical Education.
She didn't speak — she simply placed it on his desk.
With weathered hands he broke the seal before unfurling the document, giving it a read before handing it over to her.
"A petition," she said curtly. "Signed by nearly every student in the school."
Dumbledore arched a brow, steepling his fingers.
"A petition, my dear Minerva? I cannot recall the last time Hogwarts had need of one."
"Well whether or not when the last happened one has happened now, and it's reached the governors so their no stopping it now."
Once more dumbledores eyes scanned the parchment.
Looking over the key details contained within.
The students, "acting in collective and unified interest for the preservation of Hogwarts' academic standards," requested the immediate dismissal of two professors: Quirinus Quirrell, Defense Against the Dark Arts; and Cuthbert Binns, History Of Magic.
The words citing the reasons as to why these two were being removed were sharp.
"Professor Quirrell's instruction is incoherent, fear-driven, and of no measurable educational merit. Professor Binns lessons are just a useless recitation of contents of the textbooks causing students to learn no more than they would through self-study, and his delivery causes a disruption in the classroom. We, the undersigned, assert that their continued employment diminishes the dignity of Hogwarts, and strongly recommend their removal from their positions as such."
Dumbledore's heart had grown heavy.
He could see the careful work behind it — the effort, the organization.
This wasn't a childish prank. It was something more deliberate.
Worse still, Professor Binns he could accept, but Professor Quirrel... No Voldemort had been invited back to the school to play a part in his own plans.
But before his plans to being training up the savior his attempt was being undermined, Voldemort was being cast out from the castle, and he was powerless to stop it from happening.
Dumbledore sighed softly, setting the scroll aside.
"It would seem the times of patient tolerance have passed."
Minerva's eyes softened.
"You can't protect everyone forever, Albus."
He smiled faintly.
"I can try."
But even as he said it, he knew she was right.
Having a ghost teach history, the very idea was laughable, and he'd heard for years the students complaint just believing it to be their griping about having to learn history in general.
Dumbledore stared at the parchment for a long moment before finally nodding.
"So be it."
He signed the dismissal orders later that day.
Two wax seals, two quiet endings.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The two professors would have till the end of the month to conduct their affairs and classes before replacements would be sourced to cover for their 'absence'
~
The third week brought little comfort either.
Filius Flitwick arrived unannounced one evening, looking far more anxious than usual.
He carried his hat in both hands, twisting it nervously as he climbed the moving staircase to the Headmaster's office.
"Ah, Filius," Dumbledore greeted warmly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Flitwick bowed his head slightly before speaking. "It's about one of my classes, Headmaster. A… situation has developed."
Dumbledore's brows rose.
"A situation?"
"It began as a bit of rivalry," Flitwick explained, voice trembling between pride and dread. "A challenge between the Ravenclaw first-years and one of the new students — Cassius Snape, the heir of the reinstated House Draconis."
The name caught Dumbledore's attention instantly.
He'd known of the boys name but beyond the first night nothing earthshattering had come up, simply that he was a genius of many vocations being the top of his classes so far.
"What sort of challenge?" Dumbledore asked.
Flitwick hesitated.
"A formal one. A House Challenge. Publicly declared before me as a witness. The Ravenclaws demanded his expulsion from the school is they won; to which he didnt hesitate and accepted, as it was a contest of magical skill."
Dumbledore's expression turned grave.
To think that a magical genius could be lost so soon into his journey, sure he could always go to another magical school but that loss would affect Hogwarts itself.
"I wanted to disuade them, but the challenge and acceptance happened to quickly, i tried to reason with Lady Draconis, but she simply stated once a challenge is lain it cannot be retracted without forfeit."
Flitwick nervously report his efforts to undo the eventual damage.
Dumbledore exhaled slowly, this ancient house operated differently from the others and with it came risks.
Not only could Cassius be lost to the school, if he won, another childs future would be doomed in his place.
"There will be consequences," Dumbledore murmured.
Flitwick nodded miserably. "I feared as much. The boy… he's extraordinary, Albus. His talent is beyond his age. Silent casting, simultaneous casting, even inklings of wandless magic — I've seen seventh-years less composed, and he conducted it all on a simple Lumos charm right from the off."
Dumbledore folded his hands. "And the Ravenclaws?"
"Prideful," Flitwick admitted. "But determined. They believe intellect alone can overcome him, though i have great doubts that 3 more months will get them even a 10th of the way to where they need to be to win."
"Ah," Dumbledore said softly, eyes distant.
He dismissed Flitwick gently after that, promising to monitor the situation.
And if it came to it, ensuring the cast out student would be taken care of and enrolled in a comparable school for the future.
~
So he waited.
And watched.
By the time the concession came at the start of October, he already knew what had happened.
Whispers had spread through the castle like wildfire.
Ravenclaw had yielded early, accepting that they had no chance, perhaps only the 7th years themselves ever could.
Cassius Draconis — the boy who wielded light like clay — had won.
At dinner that night, Dumbledore sat silently as Lady Draconis rose from her place at the High Table.
Her voice was soft, measured, beautiful — but it carried the gravity of ages.
He watched the victory ceremony unfolded.
The announcement of defeat.
The invoking of the forfeit.
The boy's approach.
And then — the choice.
Cho Chang.
He had expected a call for books, perhaps relics, perhaps the symbolic surrender of knowledge.
But to claim a student?
Not expell one but to claim one...
The word echoed through the hall like a drop of ink spreading through water.
When the magic bound itself, when Cho's robes turned from blue to silver, Dumbledore felt it — the castle itself stirring, ancient wards flexing around the invocation of a law almost forgotten.
The power typically only held by the Headmaster himself, one to make a change within the very school itself, except Dumbledore had not invoked it, which meant...
A cold sweat formed on his brow.
It meant that under certain circumstances House Draconis had more power than even the current headmaster when it came to the affairs of the school.
That night as dumbledore paced in his office under the council of previous headmasters adorned in their portraits his eyes flickered over to Fawkes his phoenix.
A creature of legend in it of itself, but when compared to a dragon, Phoenix fire was insignificant.
Moving forwards he would need to keep a greater eye on the boy, while continuing to temper Severus to restrain the man from making and further rash moves.