Chapter 12. Run, Don't Look Back
Although the conversation with Dumbledore hadn't been particularly pleasant, today was still a day worth celebrating: after all, Adrian Wesson had secured the post of Hogwarts Professor.
When the paperwork was done, he stepped out of the Headmaster's office to find Professor McGonagall waiting for him in the corridor.
"Congratulations, Professor Wesson," Professor McGonagall said, striding up to him. "I'm sorry I've only just arrived. I ran into Professor Kettleburn—he said you'd passed the Headmaster's tests, is that right?"
Adrian nodded. "Yes, Professor McGonagall."
At his answer, Professor McGonagall looked genuinely pleased; the corners of her mouth lifted, and her usually stern expression softened for once.
"Excellent, Professor Wesson."
She adjusted the square spectacles on her nose, a hint of approval in her eyes.
It had been a while since Professor McGonagall had last seen Adrian, but in her memory, he had always been an outstanding, eager student. Whether in Transfiguration or any other subject, he had shown remarkable talent.
Who doesn't like a brilliant, well-behaved student who never causes trouble?
Oh—perhaps "never causes trouble" ought to be struck off. She still remembered quite clearly the time Adrian had left a large group of students dangling from the castle walls.
All the same, she was very much in favour of Adrian teaching Care of Magical Creatures.
Adrian walked with Professor McGonagall along the familiar corridors. The same old portraits hung on the walls; now and then the painted occupants cast curious looks their way.
Professor McGonagall tilted her head slightly towards him, as if recalling something.
"Speaking of which, Wesson," she said off-handedly, "do you remember the first time you came to me about learning to be an Animagus?"
At the mention of the past, Adrian couldn't help lifting an eyebrow.
"Of course I do," he replied. "I pestered you for ages before you reluctantly agreed to teach me. I was at your office nearly every week, and my list of reasons covered an entire roll of parchment."
Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched; a teasing glint passed through her eyes. "And did you succeed, then, Wesson?"
Adrian's smile turned a shade more enigmatic. "If I had, you'd surely know. Every Animagus has to register with the Ministry of Magic, after all, don't they?"
Professor McGonagall let her gaze rest on him a moment, as if trying to read something in his expression.
"Yes," she said, eyes narrowing slightly. "By regulation, all legal Animagi must be registered with the Ministry."
She paused, then shifted her tone. "So, Professor Wesson… does your name appear in the Ministry's registry?"
"Er…" Adrian gave a discreet cough and shrugged. "Of course not. You know how it is, Professor—the Animagus transformation is exceedingly complex and difficult. Not everyone can simply pick it up."
"If you say so." Professor McGonagall allowed herself a small chuckle, then stopped before a door. "All right, this is the last room. Have you decided which office you want?"
Adrian wasn't fussy about the location—anywhere that wasn't underground would do.
"This one will do," he said, nodding as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Professor McGonagall glanced at the nameplate and gave a small nod. "This was the last Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office."
"The last one?" Adrian turned his head.
"Indeed. As you know, the Defence post changes hands far too often," Professor McGonagall sighed, helplessness in her voice. "Let's hope the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor the Headmaster's hired can last a little longer."
Adrian had almost forgotten. In his school days, a new Defence professor every year had been the norm.
Voldemort's curse was formidable, it seemed; all these years later, it was still at work.
The office was very plain: a desk and chair, a bookcase and two shelves—nothing else.
Adrian looked around. A few textbooks and notebooks remained on the shelves. One corner of the desk was charred, as if some spell had detonated there. The bookcase in the corner was empty save for a single yellowed scroll spattered with black ink.
He went over, picked up the parchment and unrolled it. In a scrawling hand, it read: "Run. Don't look back."
Adrian: "…"
Catching his expression, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, a faint, almost imperceptible embarrassment on her face. "Don't worry, Professor Wesson—apart from Defence Against the Dark Arts, all the other posts are perfectly safe."
Adrian's mouth twitched; he slid the parchment back onto the shelf as if nothing were amiss.
"After all these years, has no one managed to break Voldemort's curse?" he asked, casually.
"Don't say his name!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed, startled.
She frowned slightly, then said, "Many of Hogwarts's finest witches and wizards have tried, including Professor Dumbledore himself. But it isn't merely an ordinary spell. It seems to have rooted itself in Hogwarts. To break it, you'd have to undo the way the curse was Raid at its source."
Adrian inclined his head, declining to discuss the curse in detail.
He wasn't the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, after all.
As for that curse—let the next person holding the post worry about it.
That would be Quirrell, wouldn't it?
At this point in time, Quirrell's back of the head ought to have been claimed by Voldemort already.
Once Professor McGonagall had made sure nothing was overlooked, she turned to Adrian. "Well then, Professor Wesson, I'll leave the rest to you. This office is yours now—feel free to arrange it as you like."
She paused, then added, "Also, Hogwarts staff may choose to live in the castle or return home."
Adrian nodded. As he recalled, most professors tended to live at the school rather than go back to their own homes.
Of course, some professors might not have much of a 'home' to return to.
"Thank you for the reminder, Professor McGonagall," Adrian said. "I'll tidy up first, then I'll head back."
"If you need the Floo Network, you may use the fireplace in the Headmaster's office."
Professor McGonagall nodded and took her leave, leaving Adrian alone in the empty office.
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