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“Thank Godrick.” you thought to yourself as you finally entered the headmasters office. Large audacious door banging shut behind you. Really - The polyjuice plot was enjoyable but it took a serious amount of time. Although you slightly hate to admit it - Proffesor Fig is not the best conversationalist and you were starting to worry if he could keep the headmaster entertained long enough for you to locate the next trial.
You exit the hallway into his main office - taking in the well decorated space. The room was fairly large, a door stood to your left - clearly leading to some form of balcony. Between large pillars you can see a intricate wooden desk flanked by marble stairs either side of it.
You start cautiously walking around the office. All you can find is various brick-a-brack. Telescopes, sneakascopes, random oddly shaped nicknacks and the sorting hat which was held hostage in a clear case.
Professor Fitzgerald remains annoying silent throughout this process - seemingly content to watch you struggle to find the trial as if this in its self was a test.
This is starting to get ridiculous. You’ve searched every single nook and cranny of the headmasters blasted office with absolutely no sign of the next trial. If you weren’t worried about how long the ‘Polyjuice Plot’ took you were certainly worried about how long the search effort was taking.
The portraits on the wall remain less than useful - one insanely old, decrepit , white bearded man (Who looked like he could have dropped dead at any second from a multitude of heart related ailments) kept muttering about disrespectful youths breaking into such a sacred office. You wish you knew some form of silencing spell to get the geezer to just shut his gob for five minutes.
Your heart started beating abnormally, as you clench your hair tightly in your hands. This plan had really gone down the gutter at this point. He could walk in at any second. Fig’s chattering could at any point cause the short-tempered headmaster to angrily storm off like a petulant child.
The large oak door slammed open, bashing loudly against the stone wall.
You feel your heart fall straight out your arse and burn through the many flights of stairs you had to crawl up. Professor Black rounds the corner of the hallway leading into his office. His footsteps stop abruptly as he registers you just standing in the centre of his office. You can quite confidently say you’ve never seen such a gobsmacked expression on the insolent man before.
‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear’ you think sardonically. Just your luck.
The room stands still in awful, suffocating silence. Professor Black is so still you almost think you somehow casted Petrificus Totalus on him.
“The pedestal in the antichamber, read the book.” Professor Fitzgerald chokes out - breaking the deafening silence. Clearly having broken her solemn oath to offer you absolutely no help whatsoever, which she seemed absolutely desperate to stand by ten minutes ago when you had begged her for help.
You sharply glance back at her - antichamber? Seeing your confused look, she once again speaks - more clearly this time “Up the stairs behind his desk”
“What in Merlins na-“ Black almost whispers looking more furious than a vengeful Graphorn.
You whip round and bolt up the stairs before he gets another word out.
Professor Black remained frozen still for a moment before giving chase after you. You had to give him credit - for an old bloke he was gaining on you fast.
Your can see the pedestal now, a book lays propped open ontop of it. (How has no other headmaster removed it after all these years?) He’s right behind you. His hand is reaching out for your shoulder. You touch the book. His hand phases through nothing as you disappear directly in front of him.
—
Phineas Black, contrary to popular belief - is not a stupid man. He just knows what is and isn’t worth wasting his valuable time on. He knows all about that meddlesome fifth years escapades outside of the castle. He caught wind of a mysterious figure burning down all the neighbouring poacher camps almost immediately - In fact he was rather sure his staff still hadn’t connected the dots on that front.
He is aware that none of his staff have reported anything about such excursions to him directly. Despite being somewhat aware of the student continuously breaking curfew if the detentions the child has served are anything to go by.
No-one has reported a word to him. The headmaster.
Fig had asked Phineas out for drinks. Something he has never done before in his entire tenure as a teacher at hogwarts under Phineas. He is aware that Eleazar has taken to covering for the Cretin of a child and is therefore clearly trying to lure him away from the castle.
After about an hour of Fig’s incessant chatter, Phineas stands up and walks out of the Three Broomsticks. He could have refused to come - Yes but he is slightly curious why he had to be removed from the castle.
What Phineas was not expecting was to walk into his office and find said Cretin.
The silence is deafening. The air is thick with unbroken tension. How did the child even get the password to his office? There was no chance they just stood infrount of the gargoyle guessing for half an hour or so.
Some irrelevant portrait on the wall breaks the silence, speaking of reading a book? Clearly the late headmistress was a lunatic. As if Phineas would sit at his desk with a cup of tea and read a novel whilst an intruder stands in his office.
The child seems to have interpreted the portraits words better than himself as they turn and run for the antichamber behind his desk. Phineas chases after despite knowing the child is dumbly running towards a dead-end. He reaches out to grab the pesky child’s shoulder blade…His hand fazes through nothing as the child glows and disappears directly before him.
After touching a book. In his antichamber. On a pedestal. In the antichamber that is behind his desk and up the stairs.
So the portrait was clearly in on whatever conspiracy the child was inacting.
Fig knew about this. The thought strikes him suddenly. His own staff member broke his trust and allowed his charge to break into Phineas’s office. Clearly he had allowed his staff to grow lazy against his authority for far too long.
Eleazar would answer for this.
—
It took time, threats of firing and then further threats of expulsion against the mans precious charge before Eleazar finally revealed the big secret to him.
Ancient Magic .
Phineas almost throttled the man for his gullibility to believe such a thing genuinely existed. Ancient magic was a fictional story for children.
Then Eleazar brought him into the map chamber. He followed behind Fig as he led him into a stadium-sized room with large portraits on the back wall. The Keepers.
Eleazar was in the middle of explaing the trials these Keepers had asked the fifth year to endure when a door - Phineas had not seen before hand - slams open.
There stands the Cretin. Covered in blood. Their own or anothers Phineas was unsure.
The child stops dead in their tracks staring gobsmacked at the headmaster - before rounding on Eleazar.
“You told him?” Exclaimed the child
Fig had the gaul to look guilty. As if Phineas wasn’t his boss, as if Eleazar hadn’t spent half a year lying to all his colleagues to chase after some desperate mission.
Phineas would put this right. Afterall this was a problem actually worth dealing with for once. Starting with giving this grubby child detention for breaking into his office.