63. New Teachers.

Dumbledore deserved some credit—he wasted no time replacing the vacant teaching positions. As expected, Horace Slughorn came out of retirement to take over as Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, bringing with him his usual jovial demeanor and penchant for collecting talented students.

Meanwhile, Remus Lupin had secured a position as the new History of Magic professor. It was a drastic improvement over Binns' monotonous droning. Lupin had a knack for storytelling that made history feel like an adventure rather than a dull recitation of dates and treaties. His lessons were engaging, filled with real-world connections and little-known facts that kept even the most inattentive students interested.

More importantly, Lupin finally had something he had desperately needed—a stable job. Life had never been easy for him, given how society shunned werewolves and other so-called dark creatures. Finding steady work had been a near-impossible task, and even when he did manage to get hired, his "furry little problem" always led to early dismissals. But here at Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's protection, he had security for the first time in his life. He no longer had to scrape by on odd jobs or rely on the charity of others.

The best part? Sirius was here, too. The two Marauders got along as if no time had passed, often seen chatting and reminiscing when Lupin wasn't busy preparing lessons. Though they had lost James and Peter had betrayed them, it was clear that having each other again brought some much-needed joy to their lives.

As for Potions, Slughorn proved himself a master of his craft. Unlike Snape, who had simply written instructions on the board and expected students to follow them, Slughorn actually taught. He explained the reasoning behind each ingredient and its interactions, demonstrating techniques that turned even the most mediocre student into a competent brewer. His teaching style was warm and encouraging, making Potions a favorite class for many.

Of course, he had his flaws. Slughorn was a notorious braggart, never missing an opportunity to name-drop his most successful former students. If a conversation lasted long enough, one could expect to hear about how he had taught the greats—from the brilliant potioneer Damocles Belby, creator of the Wolfsbane Potion, to none other than Lily Potter, whom he always spoke of with great fondness.

The results of these changes spoke for themselves—grades in both subjects saw an immediate improvement. The morale across all houses lifted, with far fewer unjust point deductions and detentions. Even the Slytherins quickly learned that while Slughorn still favored his own house, he had no patience for mischief in his classroom. Any attempt to sabotage a rival's potion was met with swift punishment.

Hogwarts, for the first time in years, felt just a little lighter.

~~~~

After a few weeks, it finally happened—Dumbledore called me to his office. As always, Serenity trailed behind me, invisible to everyone but me.

As I entered, he gave me a small nod and gestured to a bowl. "Lemon drop?" he offered with a smile.

I took a few and popped one into my mouth. Contrary to fan theories, they weren't laced with potions—just candy. Dumbledore simply had a sweet tooth.

Without preamble, he folded his hands and met my gaze. "Let me get straight to the point. What are your intentions? Does your group intend to fight against Tom, or…?"

It was a straightforward question. He had found no information on me, Rachel, or Yue—our home was hidden under Fidelius somewhere in London. The only tangible leads he had were the anonymous letter exposing Peter Pettigrew and the locket Horcrux that Sirius handed over.

I smirked slightly. "Sirius admitted to me that he told you about the letter and the locket. He figured it was best to come clean."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with interest, but he remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

"As for our intentions? Nothing," I answered evenly. "I intend to enjoy Hogwarts and get my magical education. My group has officially washed their hands of the situation after passing along the information and items to you. Though, they do have a bit more information—if you're interested."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Barty Crouch," I said, popping another lemon drop into my mouth. "He smuggled his son out of Azkaban. His wife was sick and used Polyjuice to take his place, dying in prison. Crouch Jr. is currently under an Imperius Curse at home, hidden under an Invisibility Cloak. If you could, I'd like their house-elf, Winky."

Dumbledore frowned. That was… concerning. Barty Crouch Jr. had been one of Voldemort's most devoted followers—the one who helped torture Frank and Alice Longbottom into madness.

"I see," he murmured. "That is troubling news. I will look into it." A simple house visit under the guise of discussing Wizengamot matters would confirm the truth soon enough.

Suddenly, I spotted something and smiled. "Professor, would you like to make a trade?"

Dumbledore visibly tensed. The last 'trade' resulted in him losing the Elder Wand and gaining a whole heap of trouble. And yet… it had also put him on the path to defeating Tom in ways he hadn't foreseen. Perhaps this would, too.

"May I ask what this trade involves?" His tone was cautious yet intrigued.

"It's simple," I said. "Phoenix tears. In exchange… have you heard about the Resurrection Stone?"

I nodded toward Fawkes, who tilted his head in curiosity.

Dumbledore's breath hitched. The Resurrection Stone! Of all the Hallows, this was the one he had desired most. He had possessed the Elder Wand and the Cloak before, but the Stone—the chance to speak to the dead—was something he had once craved above all else.

Before he could answer, a musical trill filled the room as Fawkes flew over, landing gracefully on my shoulder.

The phoenix had heard everything. His head tilted as he examined me, a being of both fire and lightning, before letting out a soft, approving hum.

Dumbledore understood his familiar perfectly. Fawkes agreed.

"Excellent," I said, retrieving a vial from my Gate of Babylon.

Fawkes let out several shimmering tears into the container before taking off again. I sealed the vial and stored it away. An unlimited supply of Phoenix tears—one of the most potent healing substances in existence.

Dumbledore finally regained his voice. "And the Stone?"

I smirked. "I'll do you one better."

With a flick of my fingers, a figure materialized.

Dumbledore froze. His breath caught in his chest.

"A-Ariana…"

The girl before him smiled softly. "Hello, Albie."

His hands trembled. "Is it… truly you?"

"You've grown old," she teased gently. "But yes. I'm here."

Dumbledore swallowed thickly, raw emotion flashing in his eyes.

"You have thirty minutes," I said quietly. "I'll leave you alone."

With that, I stepped out, closing the door behind me, leaving the two siblings to finally speak after a lifetime apart.