Chapter 40
One Month Ago – Hogwarts Staff Meeting
The Hogwarts staff room was unusually tense. Candles flickered against the stone walls, casting uneasy shadows across the long table. Dumbledore sat at the head, his fingers interlaced, his expression thoughtful as he listened.
McGonagall was the first to speak. "I assume we all know why we’re here."
A shared silence followed. Some exchanged glances, others shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Severus Snape leaned forward, his voice a low drawl. "Why don’t we address the obvious? Everything that should have stopped Potter in his tracks instead cowered before him." His dark eyes flickered around the room. "A fully grown mountain troll was found curled up in terror. Fluffy, a three-headed beast trained by Hagrid, refused to stand its ground. The Devil’s Snare recoiled from him as though it had touched fire. Even the enchanted chess set—one of the most aggressive protections on the third floor—refused to move against him."
Flitwick, looking unusually troubled, added, "And let’s not forget the charmed keys. They scattered rather than allow him to chase them. Magic itself is afraid of him."
Lockhart, who had been leaning back in his chair with an air of boredom, suddenly perked up. "Well, I wouldn’t say afraid, exactly," he said smoothly. "Perhaps magic merely recognizes true greatness!" He flashed his signature dazzling smile. "A talent I, too, have been burdened with."
Snape sent him a withering glare. "Be silent, Lockhart."
Lockhart huffed but said nothing more.
McGonagall’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Headmaster, this is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I accompanied Potter to Diagon Alley before term began, and there were… moments. The air seemed to shift around him, subtly. And the goblins—who fear next to nothing—were wary of him."
Hagrid, arms crossed, frowned deeply. "He’s jus’ a kid, though. We can’t go thinkin’—"
"We are not suggesting anything," Snape interrupted, voice sharper now. "But it is foolish to ignore what is happening."
Sprout hesitated before adding, "And the Sorting Hat?" She looked at Dumbledore. "It hasn't spoken since the night it placed him in Ravenclaw. That’s never happened before."
Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice as calm as ever. "Harry Potter is a boy who has endured much in his short life. We must not let our uncertainties cloud our judgment."
"And yet," Snape countered, "even you cannot deny that magic itself recoils from him. That is not normal, Headmaster."
The room was silent.
Lockhart cleared his throat, clearly eager to shift the mood. "Well! I, for one, would be delighted to take young Potter under my wing. With a bit of my guidance, I’m sure—"
"You are not to go near the boy, Lockhart," McGonagall snapped.
Dumbledore’s gaze swept the room. "Whatever is happening, it is our duty to protect and guide young Mr. Potter. Until we understand what this is, we will watch, but we will not judge. He is still a student of Hogwarts, and he will be treated as such."
The discussion continued, but unease lingered.
Because despite Dumbledore’s reassurances, one fact remained.
Magic itself—the very foundation of their world—seemed to fear Harry Potter.