The quiet of Dumbledore's office was thick with tension.The soft ticking of silver instruments on nearby shelves was the only sound — until the door creaked open.
Roy Valvas stepped inside, his silver-white hair faintly glowing in the candlelight, his expression unreadable.Across the room stood Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, both waiting, both visibly tense.
"Ah, Roy," Dumbledore said softly, steepling his fingers. "Please, sit."
Roy gave a polite nod and took the seat opposite him, eyes calm but unflinching.The faint shimmer of Fawkes stirred from the perch nearby, the phoenix letting out a single soft trill — recognition, perhaps, or approval.
Dumbledore's voice carried no anger, only quiet curiosity."I believe you already know why you've been called here."
Roy didn't hesitate. "It's about Marcus Flint."
McGonagall exhaled sharply through her nose. "You broke the boy's arm and leg, Mr. Valvas. The entire Quidditch pitch was left in shock! Even your housemates could barely move after what you—"
"I didn't use magic," Roy said simply, cutting her off.His tone wasn't disrespectful — only matter-of-fact."If I had, Professor, the injuries would have been far worse."
The room went still.
McGonagall opened her mouth, but no words came. Snape's eyes narrowed, flicking briefly to Dumbledore — who, to Roy's surprise, looked neither surprised nor angry, but quietly thoughtful.
From the wall behind them, one of the portraits stirred.Phineas Nigellus Black leaned forward, smirking faintly."Tell me, young Valvas… do you regret what you've done?"
Roy turned his gaze to the portrait, those diamond-blue eyes unwavering."No," he said. "Not for a second."
Phineas raised a brow. "No regret for violence, then?"
Roy's answer came low, firm — but filled with a quiet pride."There's an old saying in my family. A legend from my ancestor, Grand Duke Andrew Valvas, first of our line. He told his descendants — 'When you stand to protect someone, even if your enemy is stronger, you never back down. Show them what a Valvas can do — what a Valvas must do.'"
He rose slowly, his presence filling the office without even trying."To bear the Valvas name isn't about being born to it," Roy continued. "It's about earning it. Through courage, through action, through standing unshaken when others would kneel."
His words hung in the air, heavy with conviction — and for a moment, even the portraits were silent.
Dumbledore's gaze softened, faint light glinting off his half-moon spectacles."I see," he said quietly. "So the fire still burns, even generations later. Darius Valvas would have been… proud."
At the name, McGonagall's eyes widened slightly, and even Snape's impassive expression cracked."Darius Valvas," McGonagall murmured. "The retired muggle general? The man who led three nations to peace…?"
Dumbledore nodded, eyes distant, as if looking back through time."Yes. A warrior of unmatched mind and heart. And one of my dearest old friends — alongside Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel, Newt, and Tina Scamander."He smiled faintly. "It seems his grandson carries not only his talent… but his spirit."
Snape, usually so composed, felt his pulse quicken. He had heard rumors — that the Valvas family's influence stretched beyond magical politics, that they were legends even in the non-magical world. Now, standing before this boy, he understood why.
McGonagall said nothing more. Her earlier reprimand faded into silent respect.Even the Sorting Hat, resting on a shelf, shifted slightly — its stitched mouth curling into a knowing smile.
It spoke, its voice soft and gravelly:"I told you all when he arrived — the boy was fit for all four Houses. Whichever House claimed him would be remembered in history."
Roy bowed his head slightly to Dumbledore."If that's all, Headmaster, I'll take my leave."
Dumbledore nodded, still smiling faintly."Of course, my boy. But remember — strength is at its greatest when guided by purpose. Never lose sight of that."
Roy's diamond-blue eyes met his. "I won't."
As he turned and left, the door closing softly behind him, Snape exhaled slowly — tension he hadn't noticed finally leaving his shoulders.
McGonagall shook her head in quiet awe. "So that's what it means to bear the name Valvas."
And Dumbledore, watching the door through which Roy had gone, murmured almost to himself:"Yes, Minerva. A Valvas doesn't just carry power — he defines it."