Chapter 24: With the Headmaster
The night was deep, and the moonlight bright.
Hogwarts strictly forbade students from leaving their common rooms after lights-out, or from wandering the corridors, classrooms, or other areas of the castle. Breaking this rule resulted in severe punishment, and the caretaker, Argus Filch, patrolled the halls every night.
Except for a few redheaded students who saw sneaking out after dark as an adventurous challenge against the caretaker's authority, the castle was usually silent once the lamps went out.
That nightly silence was, in fact, one of Melvin's greatest sources of inspiration.
He sat behind his desk, eyes closed and head slightly tilted back, digging into the distant recesses of his memory searching for inspiration about escape rooms.
> Keep the lighting dim, but not so dark that vision is lost… Clues nearby must remain visible, shadows and corners barely perceptible… Dim vision sustains tension.
> A sealed space must muffle all sound ideally, players should hear only each other's heartbeat and breathing. It should feel oppressive, allowing faint discordant sounds an extra breath, another heartbeat, or the voice of another Harry to stand out…
> Better yet, separate them. Isolation will stir panic, and when they reunite, suspicion will arise… perhaps the unsettling idea that one of them has been replaced…
Melvin's pen paused. He frowned suddenly, lifting his head toward the door.
Footsteps echoed faintly from the corridor quick and nervous then faded away.
"…Hmm?"
He closed his notebook, rose from his chair, and pushed open the wooden door of his office.
He could still hear footsteps running toward the staircase but no one was there. Instead, two familiar figures stood at the opposite end of the corridor.
Melvin blinked. "Headmaster Dumbledore? Mr. Filch?"
By the window stood Dumbledore, dressed in a dark blue velvet night robe embroidered with silver stars and moons. His half-moon spectacles glimmered softly under the lantern light, and his expression was warm and mild more like that of a sleepless old man out for a midnight stroll than the greatest wizard of the age.
Beside him, Argus Filch hunched forward, holding a small oil lamp. Though thin, his double chin sagged over his collar; his loose skin twitched with every word. His pale complexion and bulging light-colored eyes gave him a rather ghastly look in the moonlight.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm certain students are breaking school rules and sneaking through the castle at night!" Filch's voice was fierce, his expression dark. "Peeves said so himself! A bunch of first-years, roaming about! I must catch them!"
Dumbledore's tone was unhurried, almost amused.
"Please, calm yourself, Mr. Filch. This could simply be one of Peeves's pranks. Don't fall into his trap."
"Even if it is a trap, we should chase them and see!" Filch snapped, growing agitated. "Headmaster, they're getting away!"
"If you insist…" Dumbledore stepped aside politely.
Filch dashed toward the staircase at once, Mrs. Norris padding after him. As he passed, he gave Melvin a curt nod.
Melvin chuckled softly.
After Filch had vanished down the corridor, he approached the headmaster. "Good evening, Headmaster."
"Good evening."
"The student who just ran out was it Potter?"
Dumbledore paused, as though considering seriously.
"It's possible. Or Peeves might simply have been teasing poor Mr. Filch. They don't exactly get along."
"They've already broken into the fourth-floor corridor, haven't they?"
"You mean the students sneaking out at night?" Dumbledore said lightly, still pretending to ponder. "If chased with no other escape, they might end up there…"
"They've gone into the room and met Fluffy, haven't they?"
"..."
Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, realizing he couldn't let the conversation go further.
"Perhaps it's nothing but Peeves's mischief. I truly don't know the details. I'm just an old man with insomnia couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a stroll and admire the moon."
Melvin laughed under his breath. "I once worked in theater for half a year and met many professional actors. Your performance is… a bit unconvincing, Headmaster."
"Really? That's what Professor Celticburn once said…"
Dumbledore smiled, smoothly steering the topic elsewhere.
"He used to run the school's drama club, and he once asked me to help direct a performance. It was Beedle the Bard's 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune.' Such fond memories… At the time, I was still teaching Transfiguration. I even planned to audition for the role of the Unfortunate Knight but a fourth-year student outperformed me, so I had to handle the stage effects instead."
Melvin raised an eyebrow. "So we're in the same industry, then?"
"It would seem so."
Dumbledore chuckled, entirely unconcerned. "Melvin may I call you that? Professor Marchbanks once said you reminded her of me in my youth. But honestly, you're far better than I was. Your arrival has brought new life to this castle."
"I'm not as handsome as you were, though."
"Then I must have been more handsome back then."
"I doubt it."
"Your classes don't just teach knowledge," Dumbledore continued, "they teach wisdom."
He stroked his beard, eyes twinkling. "I happened to pass by the courtyard earlier today and overheard your lesson with the Weasley twins. Fascinating especially your perspective on the nature of jokes. None of us teachers had ever thought of that before."
His blue eyes glimmered with memory.
"The Weasley twins have caused quite a few problems. Their pranks often go too far. Gryffindors tolerate them, but students from other Houses… not so much. Molly Mrs. Weasley has written me many letters about it. She worries, you know."
Melvin recognized the shift in topic, but didn't press further. "Their intentions are pure. They just want to bring laughter to dull lives. Even without me, they'll eventually understand the boundaries and learn what humor really means."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said softly, "but it won't be easy. Some lessons can only be learned through hardship after they grow up."
Then, his tone shifted again. "Speaking of your work today you requested joke shop supplies. That was for strengthening the protections around the Philosopher's Stone, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"In that case," Dumbledore said, smiling knowingly, "I happen to know of a storage room full of old prank props. You might find what you need there."
(End of Chapter)