Chapter 50: Reform! Hogwarts Needs Reform!

Chapter 50: Reform! Hogwarts Needs Reform!

Having thoroughly excoriated Dumbledore, Leon felt a familiar satisfaction, reminiscent of berating his older brother Arthur back in Birmingham. He let out a long breath.

No longer minding the excessive sweetness, he drained the rest of the tea in one go, feeling refreshed.

Dumbledore, however, remained silent, lost in thought. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "Besides these points... are there any other issues?"

"Harry," Leon replied instantly. "The saviour, Harry Potter. Did you think, compared to children in your own time, that Harry not having to sleep in a chimney was a blessing? Is that why you left him with those people?"

Dumbledore looked taken aback, instinctively defending himself. "There were reasons... powerful reasons... why Harry had to stay with the Dursleys. For his own protection."

"Protection that required him to live in a cupboard?" Leon scoffed, clearly unconvinced. "The great Albus Dumbledore... truly had no other way to ensure the poor saviour had even a remotely happy childhood?"

Dumbledore's expression turned pained. His lips moved several times before he finally spoke, his voice low. "I... do not fully comprehend familial love. If someone had criticized me as you have, ten years earlier... perhaps Harry would have had a better life."

"The fault is mine. Harry should have been placed somewhere far more suitable."

For someone possessing such immense power, admitting fault is a rare and valuable quality, especially to someone perceived as weaker. Leon looked at the old man, who seemed suddenly vulnerable, and considered offering a word of comfort. But in the end, he said nothing. He simply refilled Dumbledore's teacup and said quietly, "You should still cut back on the sugar, Headmaster. I hear you've nearly exhausted Professor Snape's entire supply of tooth-healing potions."

After another long silence, Dumbledore straightened up, his gaze complex as he looked at Leon.

"Mr. Shelby," he said, taking a sip of tea, his eyes bright and piercing, "perhaps I now understand why Mad-Eye and Remus are willing to help you."

Just as Leon began to feel unnerved by the intense scrutiny, Dumbledore spoke again. "So then. What do you propose we should do, Mr. Shelby?"

Clearly, Dumbledore hadn't dismissed Leon's words as the ramblings of a first-year. He had listened. And he was considering change.

"Two options," Leon stated flatly.

"The best option, naturally, is for you to leave Hogwarts immediately. Publicly announce your candidacy for Minister of Magic, and take the damned position. From there, you can consolidate power to the fullest extent and prepare to face Voldemort's return."

From any rational perspective, this was the most logical course. All Dumbledore had to do was overcome his foolish fear of power, and he could marshal the wizarding world's resources most effectively. Voldemort was currently weak; acting swiftly to hunt down the Horcruxes might even allow them to eliminate him permanently with minimal casualties.

However, it was immediately apparent that Leon's preferred solution was deeply unpalatable, even repugnant, to Dumbledore. His face contorted, every wrinkle etched with reluctance.

"The second option," Leon continued, "is to remain here at Hogwarts, but implement radical reforms. The sole objective: to ensure that every student graduates with the skill and courage to fight a Death Eater to the death."

"The Defence Against the Dark Arts post must only be filled by wizards with proven experience fighting Voldemort. Encourage duelling among students to sharpen their combat instincts."

"The Restricted Section of the library should be made partially accessible. Allow senior students to borrow approved texts."

"In short," Leon concluded, "we can no longer afford to produce generations of useless layabouts."

This, in fact, was the same approach Leon was taking with the magical orphans at his manor. It was simple and brutally effective.

As expected, compared to the shocking first option, the radical second option seemed less extreme. Dumbledore seriously considered its feasibility, his expression grave. But he didn't agree immediately, merely stating he needed time to think.

"This has been... a most unexpected conversation, Mr. Shelby." Dumbledore looked at Leon with newfound respect, no longer seeing him as just a first-year student.

"It is getting late. I believe it is time for bed..." The old man began to rise, preparing to leave.

But Leon stopped him. "One moment, Headmaster. I'd also like to discuss Quirrell. What is your plan for him?"

"You know about Quirrell?" Dumbledore looked surprised, then quickly composed himself. "Ah, of course you do. Your powers of deduction and observation are truly remarkable..."

He pondered for a moment before explaining. "Strictly speaking, I only suspect Quirrell. I currently have no concrete proof. Therefore, for the time being, I can only..."

"Wait for Quirrell, and Voldemort hiding somewhere within him, to reveal themselves? Is that the purpose of the Philosopher's Stone?" Leon finished.

Dumbledore looked at him with clear admiration. "Let us hope Quirrell is not as perceptive as you, Mr. Shelby."

With that, Dumbledore clearly wished to end the discussion. He stood, placed a hand briefly on Leon's shoulder, and then turned and left the Slytherin common room.

Leon let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He watched the Headmaster leave, then walked back to his dormitory, feeling a sense of weary accomplishment.

On his desk, Tom Riddle's diary lay inert. Exhausted, Leon didn't bother opening it. He collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Leon arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast to find all the professors present, with Dumbledore seated in the centre of the high table.

He walked to the Slytherin table, automatically took Malfoy's prepared toast as he sat down, and looked curiously towards the Headmaster. Dumbledore happened to be looking his way. Their eyes met, and Dumbledore gave him an enigmatic smile.

A few moments later, once most of the students had arrived, Dumbledore stood and touched his wand to his throat. His amplified voice boomed across the Hall, commanding everyone's attention.

"Starting this week, Thursday afternoon classes will be rescheduled."

"Thursday afternoons will now be dedicated to... Duelling Practice!"

"This week's Duelling Practice session will be led by Professor Flitwick, former champion of the Seventh Annual Wizards' Dueling Competition!"

A stunned murmur swept through the Great Hall. This was completely unexpected.

Only Leon nodded slightly, inwardly commending Dumbledore's decisiveness.

He was reflecting on this when he suddenly heard his own name and looked up, bewildered.

"Furthermore," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling, "Professor Flitwick requires an assistant."

"Professor Snape would have been an excellent choice, but unfortunately, he has sustained a leg injury."

"Therefore, Professor Flitwick has selected one of his most promising students to assist him."

"Leon Shelby!"