Chapter 4: Accepting The Invitation
The not fully closed window revealed a small gap, looking out to sporadic neon lights and streetlights.
The sound of stage chanting and accompaniment music penetrated the walls, passed through the corridor, and entered the office, becoming somewhat muffled.
The crystal lamp suspended from the ceiling rotated slowly, casting slow-floating light and shadows in the room.
“I’ve looked up relevant materials and found that Hogwarts’s textbooks are all old books from decades ago, 《British Muggle life and social habits》 published in the 1970s, 《Muggles who made discoveries》 from the 1950s… Muggle chickens, or rather your research on Muggles, still stuck in the steam engine era, completely outdated.”
Melvin spoke eloquently; this was the result of his correspondence with the Ilvermorny Muggle Studies professor:
“As Professor Fleming wrote in his thesis, wizards looking down on Muggles with arrogant nobility can only glimpse the shallow surface. Students should adapt to the new era, rather than rote memorizing adventure novels from a dozen or even decades ago…”
“Insights as profound as the sword marks in the stone…”
Dumbledore looked up at Melvin, his deep blue eyes filled with admiration: “Madam Bubajji has expressed similar ideas; she always says that wizards’ arrogance is causing magic to wither, but most wizards still cling to ignorant pure-blood notions, unwilling even to step out of the castle to see those skies built of reinforced concrete.”
“Madam Bubajji?” Melvin appropriately showed confusion.
“A friend of mine, an expert in the Muggle field.”
“Also a candidate for Professor of Muggle Studies, right?”
Dumbledore couldn’t help but reveal a smile, not denying it: “Compared to staying at school to teach, she prefers to deeply understand Muggle society; she plans to lock her wand in a box and live in London for a few years as an ordinary person.”
“A pure-blood wizard having such thoughts reminds me of naturalists from the age of sail.”
Dumbledore was somewhat puzzled: “Naturalists?”
Nicolas Flamel nearby explained: “Scholars on exploration ships during the Age of Discovery, generally from privileged backgrounds, erudite and knowledgeable, yet willing to risk their lives to explore a broader world.”
Melvin nodded and added: “Their task was to lead ignorant and backward people to open their eyes to the world; I hope Hogwarts students can also become naturalists of the Wizarding World.”
“Praise your aspiration.” Nicolas Flamel raised his teacup; this time the cup contained proper black tea.
“In the name of Headmaster of Hogwarts, I agree.”
Dumbledore’s voice was gentle yet firm.
After seeing off the two old men, Melvin leaned back in his chair, eyes slightly narrowed, staring at the suspended crystal lamp.
Last time they met, it was mainly Nicolas Flamel chatting with him, with Dumbledore listening and rarely interjecting; this time Nicolas Flamel was silently reserved beside him. If there was any commonality, it was probably that both their gazes had swept over his ring multiple times.
No sign of Legilimency at all, purely relying on insight and eyesight accumulated over long years.
Back then, it had taken him nearly half a year to confirm that the marks on it belonged to Slytherin.
Learn until old, live until old.
Melvin rubbed his ring, pondered for a moment, then stood up and walked out of the office.
There was no chit-chat tonight, and the negotiation went very smoothly, so the Great Hall had not yet dispersed; carefully designed lights illuminated the stage, the audience seats shrouded in shadows, and the assistant miss stood near the VIP passage, looking up at the stage with a slightly proud expression on her face.
Melvin turned to look at the stage, just in time to catch the most exciting plot.
What was being performed was the musical 《Wicked》, the first play he designed for the Gershwin Theatre, and it was this play that helped him and the assistant miss gain a foothold on Broadway.
The play featured many magical scenes, and Melvin designing the stage effects was a perfect professional match in every sense.
Looking back now, he felt a bit nostalgic.
Approaching with light steps, Melvin lowered his voice and said, “Claire.”
“Mr. Lavent.”
“I’m planning to leave.”
“Going to Hollywood?” The assistant miss was not surprised.
“No, I’m planning to go to Britain for further study and to expand the market.”
“Oh…”
“But you have to go to Hollywood.”
“Ah?!”
……
Nighttime.
Dumbledore strolled slowly along the street, his eyes darting left and right, full of curiosity about the things on both sides of the road, holding a can of cola in his hand—an aluminum pull-tab can just taken from the refrigerator, with water droplets condensed from vapor continuously sliding down.
Compared to the red cola he had last time, this blue sugary water seemed a bit sweeter.
Nicolas Flamel behind him walked slowly, somewhat shaky: “If I haven’t gone senile yet, changing teaching content requires submitting a written report to the Board of Governors and the Department of Magical Examinations, right?”
“Madam Marchbanks will agree.”
Dumbledore automatically ignored the Board of Governors’ existence, took a sip of cola, then suddenly changed the subject: “Have you arranged the matter with the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“If all goes smoothly, it’s already placed in Gringotts’s underground vault, only…”
Nicolas Flamel paused: “I mean, are you really sure? There hasn’t been any news of the Dark Lord for over a decade.”
Dumbledore’s smile faded, his gaze deep and obscure: “If Voldemort is really hiding in Albania, he certainly won’t miss Quirrell; he likes that kind of soul the most. If Voldemort returns to Britain, he certainly won’t miss the Philosopher’s Stone.”
Nicolas Flamel couldn’t help but frown: “You couldn’t stop that young man?”
“I tried.”
Dumbledore sighed: “Before he left school, I had a talk with Quirrell; he has completely lost himself on the path of pursuing dark power, his soul steeped in the shadows of Dark Magic, even Fawkes’s flames hard to purify.”
“Sigh…”
“Nic, we must admit that even the Imperius Curse cannot completely change a person’s thoughts; likewise, I cannot change Quirrell’s choice.”
“I just regret that the peaceful days have only just arrived.”
……
……
「Professor Levent:
Apologies for sending this informal letter just before onboarding, but life is like that—surprises always arrive with tomorrow. The onboarding has hit some snags.
You are an outstanding wizard, but people value those false reputations more, especially that group of old wizards in the Administration even older than me. These old professors heard about our meeting and want to see you in person; they might ask some vague, generalized questions, so I hope you can prepare in advance.
Don’t worry too much; others may not understand your insights, but Madam Marchbanks is open-minded, and I believe things will eventually go as planned.
Late summer storms have come to Scotland, a flood-like curtain of rain pouring down from the castle towers; at this moment, I am sitting in the office listening to the rain, as Hogwarts awaits the arrival of a new professor.
Your future colleague, Albus Dumbledore. 」
Early morning, at the entrance of the Woolworth Building, Melvin put the letter he received that morning into his pocket.
Dressed in the classic wizard travel attire, wand tucked into his lapel, carrying a brown suitcase—not very eye-catching.
This Neo-Gothic high-rise has 57 floors, about 792 feet, construction started in 1910 and took 3 years to complete; considering America’s construction efficiency, it’s hard to say the American Ministry of Magic wasn’t involved back then.
Somewhat unexpected, among the staff handling the reception was a familiar face.
Auror Mr. Graves, from a prominent family, mother is former Congress President Seraphina Picquery; perhaps influenced by his mother from childhood, Graves has always held lofty ideals, entered Ministry of Magic work after graduation, refused family help, dreaming of restoring family glory through his own efforts.
But development wasn’t smooth; twenty years later, he only reached Director of the Auror’s Office—and it’s the deputy position.
Melvin entered the building expressionlessly.
He and Mr. Graves had a rather unpleasant falling out.
Six months ago when he first arrived in New York, his stage design caused a sensation and even made the newspapers—Muggle newspapers and wizard newspapers alike.
Not long after the news spread, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement noticed his activities, and a certain Deputy Head of the Auror’s Office happened to be at a critical point for promotion, so after the Easter Holiday, he resolutely filed charges.
Later, Melvin won the case, and Mr. Graves was demoted.
Who could have foreseen this?
This middle-aged Auror followed beside him, silently watching as Melvin cooperated with the staff to register his wand, produced the Hogwarts onboarding notice, and smoothly completed the exit procedures.
“The Portkey from New York to London is about to activate; please prepare, passengers, ten…”
“I’ll miss you, Mr. Graves.”
“Shut up.”
“Seven, six, five…”
——
《American Ministry of Magic: A History》
Since its founding, the American Ministry of Magic headquarters has relocated five times.
In 1693, after the Ministry of Magic was established and stabilized, it built a large magical architecture as headquarters in the Appalachian mountain range.
In 1760, the American Ministry of Magic moved to Williamsburg, Virginia, the hometown of then-President Thornton Hackaway.
After Hackaway stepped down, the Ministry of Magic moved to Baltimore, where President Abel Fleming lived.
After the Revolutionary War broke out, to avoid the war and Muggle government, the Ministry of Magic relocated again to Washington.
In 1892, affected by Bigfoot disturbances, the Ministry of Magic left Washington and moved to the Woolworth Building in New York.
