Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0524 Discussion

Crack! Pop!

The crackling sound of magical energy filled the air as Dumbledore raised his wand, pointing it towards the fireplace. With a swift, fluid motion and a softly murmured incantation, the flames roared to life, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

As the fire settled into a steady blaze, Dumbledore turned his attention to the portraits that lined the walls. With a gentle smile despite the seriousness of the situation, Dumbledore addressed them.

"My dear friends, I must ask you to leave us for a moment. We have some matters to discuss in private." Despite the fact that the portraits were contractually bound to obey the current headmaster, Dumbledore still requested to them courteously.

The portraits stirred, some grumbling good-naturedly while others nodded in understanding. One by one, they vacated their frames, leaving behind empty canvases that seemed to absorb the firelight, creating an illusion that made the room feel larger and more isolated.

With the room now truly private, Dumbledore settled himself into a plush armchair, his long silver beard gleaming in the firelight. His bright blue eyes, usually twinkling, now held a somber, thoughtful look as he gazed into the dancing flames.

"In my opinion," Dumbledore began, his voice calm, as if the earlier shocking events had ceased to trouble him, "this wasn't Tom's idea."

Bryan, who had been pacing near the window, paused at Dumbledore's words. He turned to face him, his brow furrowed in thought.

"You mean," he said, rubbing his temples, "like the unauthorized action at the Quidditch Cup, this wasn't ordered by Voldemort, but rather another genius scheme conceived by Professor Moody?"

His voice carried a hint of bitter sarcasm at the mention of 'genius.'

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlacing on his knee as he considered his response. His gaze drifted upwards, focusing on the elaborate chandelier that hung from the ceiling, its crystals catching and refracting the firelight in a mesmerizing display.

"I can't give you a definitive answer, Bryan," Dumbledore said after a long moment of contemplation. His voice was tinged with a mixture of uncertainty and concern. "What I can tell you is that unless Tom has had a complete change of heart during his years of suffering, he wouldn't have chosen Miss Granger.

He lacks your keen and wise eye that can recognize Miss Granger's extraordinary qualities. We all expected him to target Harry, which would align perfectly with Tom's past behavior, unless—"

Here, Dumbledore paused, and turned to face Bryan directly. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through him, as if trying to convey a deeper meaning. "Something happened that made Tom feel he needed to alter his plans to avoid my discovering of his strategy to use Harry for his resurrection. Perhaps that's why he was willing to listen to someone else's suggestion."

Bryan nodded slightly, his mind racing to process this new perspective. There weren't many people in Voldemort's inner circle now who could offer him advice, except for that foolish woman outside masquerading as Alastor Moody.

"A reasonable deduction, Headmaster," Bryan said thoughtfully. "At the Quidditch World Cup, Cliodna wanted to deliver Harry to Voldemort before he returned to school, and caused quite a commotion. This failed attempt might have made Voldemort think you would be more vigilant, so he decided to conceal his true intentions more carefully." He paused, his brow furrowing deeper as he considered the next logical question. "The only question now is, why did Cliodna set her sights on Hermione Granger?"

"I rather doubt it was Miss Granger's outstanding academic performance that caught your friend's attention," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His long fingers absently stroked his silver beard as he spoke. "If Tom were making this decision himself, young Ron Weasley would have been the more obvious choice, given the long-standing connection between his family and Harry."

"Which means," Bryan ignored Dumbledore's jest, and said thoughtfully, "Cliodna must have seen something that made her believe Harry and Hermione's relationship was particularly close. Through Hermione, she could manipulate events to ensure Harry would become entangled in the tournament, creating opportunities to take him away from under our very noses. And somehow, this reasoning was persuasive enough to convince Voldemort to alter his usual methods."

As he spoke, Bryan's brow furrowed even deeper, his mind delving into the possibilities. Before the school year began, Cliodna and Hermione's only possible encounter should have been at the World Cup—or had the woman used her old tricks and conducted a thorough investigation at Hermione's home?

Dumbledore, noticing Bryan's intense concentration, gently intervened. "We can never uncover all truths through speculation alone, Bryan," he said, his voice carrying a note of caution. Then, his expression grew more serious, a hint of worry creeping into his eyes. "What troubles me more deeply now is Miss Granger's position in all this, Bryan. Do you think we should maintain our original stance?"

Bryan raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore's question. The hesitation in Dumbledore's voice surprised him—it was rare to see the headmaster display such uncertainty. Yet as he pondered the situation more deeply, he found himself understanding the source of Dumbledore's uncharacteristic uncertainty.

When it came to facing Voldemort, Harry and Hermione were vastly different. Hermione's blood didn't carry the protection Lily Evans had built with her life, her soul didn't harbor a fragment of Voldemort's soul, and she lacked the ancient magic Dumbledore had placed on Harry as a precaution years ago.

She was brilliant and strong-willed, but she wasn't 'special' like Harry in the ways that mattered.

Dumbledore and Bryan could let Harry face Voldemort with relative peace of mind, knowing Voldemort couldn't kill him now. But Hermione... Without any protection, Hermione couldn't possibly survive an encounter with Voldemort.

They had tacitly allowed Voldemort's resurrection seeing it as a necessary evil to ensure his final and complete destruction, but to let Hermione become the first casualty in the brutal war that would follow Voldemort's return—neither Dumbledore nor Bryan could accept that. Even if war demanded sacrifices, they couldn't accept deliberately sending an underage witch to her death.

The current difficulty was that, with their tacit approval, Hermione had already entered into a contract with the Goblet of Fire. And this was now a real mess.

Suddenly, Bryan's eyelids flickered as a memory he had kept buried surfaced in his mind. This recollection not only provided a new perspective on their current dilemma but also confirmed some of his suspicions.

With newborn conviction, Bryan stated, "I believe Miss Granger won't face mortal danger in the upcoming series of events. I think the risks are still controllable."

A strange light flickered in Dumbledore's eyes as he looked at Bryan with slight surprise. He could sense that the hesitation that had surrounded Bryan moments ago had vanished, replaced by a calm certainty that was both reassuring and intriguing.

"What makes you so certain, Bryan?" Dumbledore asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and concern. "I'm sure you understand we're discussing a student's life here."

Bryan met Dumbledore's gaze steadily.

"I'm confident, Headmaster," he said, his voice calm and resolute. The subtle ripples in his eyes sparked many thoughts in Dumbledore's mind. "I will ensure that Hermione Granger, and all the champions, will not face mortal danger."

With these words, Bryan stood up, signaling his readiness to end the discussion.

Dumbledore, however, wasn't quite ready to let the matter rest. As Bryan turned to leave, he asked one last question, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "You still won't tell me about how you came to know that remarkable lady, Bryan?"

Bryan paused mid-step, but didn't turn around. For a moment, he was transported back to July of the previous year.

What surfaced in his mind wasn't his first encounter with Cliodna at the orphanage, but rather their journey to Stonehenge. He recalled vividly what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised—the gateway to Stonehenge—a little girl standing in the rain amidst the ruins of past happiness, crying.

Shaking off the recollection, Bryan responded without turning around. "It's not a particularly fascinating story worth sharing, Headmaster," But before Dumbledore could show his disappointment, he added, "When the time is right, I'll share some of it with you."

With those words, Bryan left the room, leaving Dumbledore alone in the office.

In the Student Safety Office.

The room was bathed in a reddish glow, cast by the smoldering pine wood in the fireplace. Outside, the winter wind howled relentlessly, its fury echoing through the ancient stones of the castle. In the Forbidden Forest, countless trees swayed their branches wildly, moving like surging waves in a storm-tossed sea.

Bryan lay on his bed, arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and concerns. The events of the day played out before his mind's eye in a ceaseless loop: Hermione Granger becoming an unexpected champion, the controlled Barty Crouch acting out his part, Cliodna scurrying around under Moody's identity.

He thought of Remus's progress in his secret mission, of Sirius's delicate situation at the Ministry, of Voldemort's approaching footsteps growing ever louder. And looming over it all, the inevitable clash of approaches between himself and Dumbledore once the war began in earnest.

And there was something he still couldn't understand—why had Herpo's Staff, which he had narrowly missed obtaining on Avalon Island, led Cliodna to join Voldemort?

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Bryan felt an almost overwhelming impulse rise within him. He imagined rushing to Moody's office right now, subduing Cliodna, and forcing her to answer his myriad questions. The urge was so strong, so instinctual, that when Bryan came to his senses, he found he had unconsciously gripped his wand turning his knuckles white with tension.

Logic and reason ultimately prevailed over emotional impulse. He knew all too well how cautious that woman was—her disguises and defenses extended to the very level of her soul. The idea of forcibly controlling and interrogating her, then erasing her memory, was likely impossible.

As this realization settled over him, Bryan felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders like a physical burden. And with it came a profound sense of loneliness, the kind that comes from being at the top, from knowing things others couldn't comprehend.

He thought back to his time as a student at Hogwarts, when Professor Snape's protection, both obvious and subtle, had been one of his sources of confidence and security. Now, the tables had turned. He was the one providing shelter to others, with no one truly qualified to shelter him—not even Dumbledore.

"Sleep," Bryan murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the howling wind outside. With a soft sigh, he turned over to face the boundless darkness beyond the window. As he closed his eyes, allowing the exhaustion of the day to finally claim him, Bryan drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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