Chapter 105: The Prelude
"Wait, is it really a good idea for so many of you to be out after curfew?" Penelope asked, a flicker of worry in her eyes. She was concerned that this mass exodus might be the final straw for the already-frustrated Filch. An unpopular caretaker going rogue was one thing, but with the grand performance that was about to unfold at Hogwarts, any unexpected complication could have disastrous consequences.
"Filch has been dealing with this for years. What are you worried about?" one of the older girls said. It was a rite of passage at Hogwarts: to go from being chased by Filch in your younger years to actively taunting him in your older ones.
I'm getting worked up over nothing, Penelope realized. She quickly invented a plausible excuse. "It's just that Filch caught that group of Slytherins and Gryffindors not long ago. What if he uses this as another reason to complain to the Headmaster? I'm worried it might affect our late-night trips to the library."
The threat to their library access was enough to convince the other Ravenclaws. "You don't think he'd actually do that, do you?"
"I'm sure the Headmaster wouldn't agree to it."
"But what if Filch has a complete breakdown?" Cho Chang mused. "The thrill of his recent victory, followed by the humiliation of tonight... what if he has to take a leave of absence, and they replace him with someone stricter?"
"We should probably try to avoid Filch from now on," Penelope said, steering the conversation to its logical conclusion.
The girls grabbed some snacks from the kitchens, played with the rats and Doro for a while, and then, after Penelope announced she was taking Doro back to the Adventurers' Club, they dispersed in small groups. Penelope noticed that a few of them seemed to have something small and wriggling in their pockets.
"You can take the rats," she called after them, "but you have to keep them safe. And bring them back in a day or two." She explained that these were no ordinary rats; they were heroes, the very creatures who had helped expose a dark plot. The girls all nodded solemnly, promising to take the utmost care of their new, temporary pets.
"It's getting late, Doro," Penelope said to the little golem. "Time to go back to the club."
"Human. Dormitory. Together," Doro chirped.
"You want to come back to the dormitory with me?"
Doro nodded its chubby little face. "Human. Good. Doro likes you."
"Alright, then. Let's go," Penelope said, scooping Doro into her arms and casting a Disillusionment Charm on herself.
On her way back to the Ravenclaw common room, she peeked around a corner and saw Filch on the second-floor corridor, in the throes of a full-blown tantrum. Even Mrs. Norris was keeping a safe distance. Why does the Headmaster even employ a caretaker? she wondered.
"Hello, Gellert," Minerva McGonagall said, her face as thunderous as if she had just caught a hundred Percys leading a mass Gryffindor exodus after curfew. She had come to the Headmaster's office to find that Dumbledore had indeed brought in reinforcements. The presence of the legendary Nicolas Flamel was a comfort. The presence of the man who called himself "Gellert" was not.
"I have long heard of the renowned Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts," Gellert said with a chuckle, completely unfazed by her hostility. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. You are everything I would expect of the Head of Gryffindor."
McGonagall fumed, but Dumbledore remained silent, pretending to be engrossed in the portraits of the former headmasters. She shot a desperate look at the others in the room, hoping for some support. Ryan was deep in conversation with Nicolas Flamel, presumably discussing alchemy. Snape, after a brief flicker of what looked like joy, had retreated into his own mind. Flitwick was muttering to himself about a magical model of nuclear fission. Only Professor Sprout seemed to share her concerns.
"Albus!" McGonagall's voice was sharp enough to cut glass.
"What is it, Minerva?" Dumbledore said, finally turning to her. "I believe the two associates I have brought are more than sufficient to ensure Voldemort does not succeed. Do you not agree?"
He's right, of course, Ryan thought. The two of them could handle a full-power Voldemort, let alone this weakened version.
"So," McGonagall said, reining in her anger, "the rest of us will remain at the Quidditch match, while you four—Albus, Mr. Gellert, Nicolas, and Ryan—will be waiting in the room with the Philosopher's Stone."
"And Vaisey, Pablo, and Penelope will need a legitimate reason to be absent," Ryan added. "We'll say they're needed at the Tower of Wonders. I'll ask the professors to make a bit of a show of approving their leave."
The meticulousness of the plan was not lost on the professors. Every detail, from the decoys' daily routines to their plausible alibis, was perfectly orchestrated.
Time flew by. The day of the much-anticipated Order of Merlin ceremony arrived, as did the day of the big Quidditch match. Vaisey Selwyn of Slytherin had, as planned, been called away on urgent family business. Pablo and Penelope of Ravenclaw had also submitted their leave requests, citing pressing matters at the Tower of Wonders and hinting at an exciting new product, even more revolutionary than the communicator.
And so, after a hearty breakfast in the Great Hall, Ryan, the guest of honor, along with his Head of House, Professor Flitwick, and the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore
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