Harry Potter and the Potter Grimoire

Chapter 21: Raising the Stakes

Albus rubbed the tired rings around his eyes. For a man who was considered ancient by even the middle aged, he couldn't complain much. Lacking sleep may make him look his age, but he always felt it. These early mornings only proved that he was over the hump of 100. He sighed as the looked at the stacks of parchment on his desk. There were in fact six different stacks of parchment around, with each stack being relevant to one of his many positions. Three alone were for his ICW related role. However, the stack that had his attention now was the smallest of the six. This stack was dedicated to the readiness of the next academic year.

The booklist for next year, specifically for his Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well, it was supposed to be the booklist. Instead it was a proposal from his newest Professor. With a flick of his wand, the other stacks rapidly moved, reorganizing themselves, and slipping into a corner room as he stood and strolled towards his fire.

A dash of floo powder and a few spoken words had him in a dark, yet warm living area. Dark woods, deep blues and soft cushions on each piece of furniture made an inviting atmosphere. A single lantern on a side table provided the light of the room, its glow unnaturally bright. On the couch beside the table sat the wizard Albus was seeking. Dressed in a dark green turtle neck sweater and a pair of black trousers the wizard could have belonged in a wizard's wear magazine.

Nicolas Flamel sat drinking a cup of tea as he read a text that was worth more than most magical's homes. Without looking up from this reading he spoke, "Next time do call ahead. My wife would have skinned you. Again. This time I wouldn't put you back together either." His voice was calm; serene even as Albus frowned at him. "Drop the frown Wulfric. I didn't stay awake to take your inevitable call to see it. Speak."

"I read your proposal-" The headmaster started before he was interrupted by his former mentor.

"Obviously, otherwise you would not be here at 3 am." The caustic remark made Albus flinch. Nicholas' eyes, hard and stubborn softened slightly. "I am sorry Wulfric. I should not have snapped."

"It's fine. You must be under quite a high amount of stress at the moment." Albus allowed. Since the reappearance of Voldemort a mere two months ago, Flamel and his company, Immortal Protections, was under heavy scrutiny after it was revealed that Voldemort had already released his most vicious followers. It was Immortal Protections that was supposed to ensure that such a thing was impossible, according to the Ministry. Both men in the house knew that the law said otherwise, but legality was never the most important thing to governments. Every magical that lived long enough saw that.

"True Wulfric. However, it was still wrong of me to snap at you for doing your duty. Come and sit old pupil and tell me your concerns." Nicolas gestured towards the seat beside him, which Dumbledore gladly took.

"You propose to change the class into Magical Defense and Combat, and have a modified curriculum to create, in your own words, 'competent spellcasters'. Your curriculum emphasis seems to be designed over a seven-part system, one per year." Albus left his question unasked.

"Yes Wulfric, I will likely stay longer than this year. And this proposal is to guarantee that." Nicholas took another sip of tea. "You understand that there is a curse on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Yes, I am aware. I was also informed that the curse should be weak enough now that such a thing doesn't matter." Albus' frowned in confusion. Perenelle told him that would be the case and on matters such as that, she was rarely wrong.

"That would be the case if it were a standard curse. However, we cannot be certain on if the curse was tied to the lifeforce of Voldemort. If that is the case, it could be strengthened. I cannot take the chance of such a thing." Nicolas spoke softly as he pointed to his text. For the first time Albus looked at the title, Zǔzhòu hé fànguī mófǎ. The oldest written text that the British Ministry of Magic recognized as Dark.