Seeing Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape's wands snapped in two, the rest of the faculty stood up as one, drawing their wands in a flurry of movement. Sensing the rising hostility, Goku's expression turned serious as the within him began to pool slowly into his palms.
"Alright, that is enough! Everyone, stand down!"
Dumbledore, who had remained seated until now, finally stood up. His voice, amplified by a charm, carried a subtle magical calm that naturally soothed the frayed nerves of both the professors and the young boy.
The professors instinctively lowered their wands. Goku, sensing the threat dissipate, dispersed the he had just gathered.
"Mr. Goku, I accept your invitation to duel. However, before we proceed, might we have a little chat?" Dumbledore's tone was gentle, his smile radiating genuine kindness.
He hadn't intervened initially because he trusted Snape's capabilities; he knew exactly how formidable the Potions Master was. But when Goku nearly incapacitated Snape and vaporized the Great Hall's ceiling, Dumbledore realized something was very wrong.
The power Goku displayed was far beyond anything Rufus Scrimgeour's letter had described. More importantly, the force that demolished the roof and shattered the wands wasn't magic.
It was a power he had never encountered before—a power so immense it had left even him momentarily stunned. He realized Goku's origin wasn't as simple as the Aurors believed. Before the conflict escalated further, he intended to talk to the boy, to understand where he came from and the nature of the power he wielded.
Dumbledore was not a wizard who worshipped power for power's sake. Compared to combat, he much preferred knitting patterns and honey mead in his office. But the wizarding world was precarious; Voldemort lurked in the shadows, and peace was a fragile thing. He was deeply intrigued by this new force—and by a boy who, at such a young age, could hold his own against two senior professors.
Goku's face lit up with excitement. He nodded vigorously. "Of course!"
When it came to duelling, if Dumbledore had refused, Goku wouldn't have forced the issue. That was the basic etiquette of a martial artist. He had only fought back because he was attacked first, and even then, he hadn't used his full strength, holding back at every turn.
"Minerva, if you would be so kind as to finish the Sorting Ceremony in my stead." Dumbledore gave a few brief instructions to McGonagall before leading Goku out of the Great Hall and toward the Headmaster's office.
It was only then that the students finally closed their gaping mouths and processed what they had just witnessed. The entire skirmish had lasted less than two minutes, leaving everyone in a state of absolute shock.
"Merlin's beard! Is he really a first-year?"
"He just took on McGonagall and Snape—two against one—and won!"
"Maybe he actually can challenge Dumbledore."
"Look at the roof! What kind of curse does that? It took the whole thing off!"
The Great Hall erupted into a deafening roar of frantic whispers and excited shouts.
"Quiet!"
Professor McGonagall stepped to the front, using wandless magic to cast a charm to drown out the noise. With her wand broken, she had to rely on her innate skills. Fortunately, for a witch of her caliber, basic spells without a wand were manageable.
"Filius, if you could repair the ceiling," she murmured to Professor Flitwick, the diminutive Head of Ravenclaw. She then turned a stern eye back to the students. "The Sorting Ceremony will proceed. When I call your name, you will step forward..."
Professor Flitwick waved his wand, casting a powerful Mending Charm that restored the Great Hall's ceiling to its former glory. Meanwhile, McGonagall produced the Sorting Hat to begin its work.
...
Goku followed Dumbledore through the corridors and up the moving staircases toward the eighth floor.
"Good evening!" the portraits on the walls called out. The figures in the paintings bowed and curtsied as Dumbledore and Goku passed. Goku, ever polite, returned their greetings with a smile.
Dumbledore watched this with a nod of approval. To a Muggle or even a typical first-year, sentient portraits, shifting stairs, and stone gargoyles were wonders to behold. But to Goku, they weren't much different from the televisions, cars, and robots he'd seen after leaving Mount Paozu.
They were just things he didn't understand yet, but that clearly had a reason for existing. He wasn't particularly interested in the "magic" of it all; his only real interests were food and strong opponents.
"So, what are we talking about?" Goku asked, sitting across from Dumbledore and blinking his large, curious eyes.
Dumbledore smiled. "No rush. You must be hungry. Let's eat first."
With a light tap on his desk, a feast appeared: roasted beef, chicken, pork chops, sausages, steaks, boiled potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding...
Goku's eyes practically turned into stars. He hadn't been full since lunch, and his stomach was growling. During the fight earlier, his hunger had limited him to barely half his usual strength.
"Thank you! I'm digging in!" Goku pressed his hands together in thanks and began to demolish the food at a terrifying speed.
'Such a pure child,' Dumbledore thought as he took a sip of honey mead. Rufus had been wrong about the boy's power level, but his assessment of the boy's character was spot on.
Goku was incredibly simple and honest. Dumbledore liked children like this; with the right guidance, they grew into pillars of justice. Because of this, he chose not to use to peer into the boy's mind, preferring to learn about him through genuine conversation.
"He certainly can eat!"
Before Dumbledore had even finished half his glass, the entire table had been cleared, and Goku looked like he was just getting started.
"Are you full yet?"
"Nope," Goku replied honestly.
Dumbledore tapped the desk again, and another full spread appeared. Hogwarts employed many house-elves who were masters of magical cooking; the turnaround time for more food was nearly instantaneous.
***
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