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Albus Dumbledore let out a soft sigh. Due to the curse on the Defence position, he couldn’t get anyone to apply. Quirrell, the former Muggle Studies professor, agreed to transfer to DADA if he could go and get first-hand experience. Which led to his run-in with Lord Voldemort, and the subsequent attempt to steal the Philosopher’s Stone.
Oh, he knew Severus would be willing to switch to DADA, and was probably overqualified for the position, but that led to him needing a new Potions teacher. It would be nigh impossible to get another Master or Mistress, and Dumbledore was hesitant to try to recruit Slughorn again. Moody outright refused, and honestly, that was for the best. Unless there was an international event, Albus would rather keep his old friend out of his school. He was better suited to hunting down the darkness, not teaching.
Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Gilderoy Lockhart. The only person to apply for the position and, if Albus was being completely honest, he’d be better off with a toddler. From the booklist consisting of only his works to his titles, the man cared little for anything that didn't revolve around him.
“Perhaps I should grant Severus his dream and find someone else to take over potions. If I can do so before the Ministry tries something.” Dumbledore mused, only to be shaken from his thoughts by the squawk of his familiar. He turned and saw a man in his late fifties, smiling at him. The once coppery hair was sprinkled with grey strands, but the hardened steel blue eyes held no softness. His build was similar to that of a Quidditch Seeker, and his wand was arguably one of the few that interested him the most. Cherry wood, with the heartstring of a Peruvian Vipertooth, with the length being thirteen inches.
“My name is Darius Graves, nephew of Atlas Graves.” Dumbledore nodded, knowing of the man who was a good friend of his. He did a lot to help the Northern American magical communities, including the Natives, and deserved much more praise than he received. Though, Dumbledore thought, he’d deny it. That’s his style.
“How may I be of assistance, Mister Graves?” Dumbledore asked, staring at his companion. He never attempted legilimancy on someone without warning, but there were times where he knew it was necessary. Sometimes to get the character, sometimes to figure out if they believed in what they were saying. Still, he never expected to run into someone who had strong enough shields to block him, save for Tom, but that was to be expected. Such a person couldn’t handle being second best at anything.
“I’m offering my service as the DADA professor. I’ve spent time working with the Asiatic Magical Federation, which includes Oceania, Southeast Asia, and the Pacific Islands. I’ve faced off against a few dark wizards, and that includes the Outback Duel. Where I was part of the task force that managed to free the Australian Ministry from a group of Death Eater sympathizers that wished to do what their master couldn’t.”
“Why are you offering me your services? I know about your record, and I know that you also worked as an assassin. So tell me, Darius, why I should consider you and not turn you over to your uncle?”
“Because you and I both see the writing on the wall.” Darius took a breath, conjuring up a glass and filling it with water. “Voldemort will return. Sooner rather than later, if what I’ve been hearing is true. He already infiltrated the school, and fought someone. Perhaps a student, perhaps a teacher. I’ve delved into the dark arts, much like Severus Snape, and he’s a Potions Master. Probably one of the few who could have survived fighting the dark lord in a one-on-one duel. His expertise gives you an in for whenever the bastard returns, and I can help you with my knowledge of where people could hire certain people.”
“And? Do you not know how far my influence reaches? If necessary, I could get someone to do that for clemency. You are not exactly the type of person I would want around the students.”
“True, but here’s an added bonus to hiring me. My uncle agreed to say that this is to make me ‘reform and repent my actions’ while being an assassin. You and him are the only two who’d be able to get away with it, and that could give you more of a chance for others to join you instead of following Voldemort.” Darius grit his teeth at the name, not exactly liking it. “Not to mention that, if needed, I can help you with dark objects and finding out how the bastard survived.”
“Do you have a theory for how Voldemort survived?” Dumbledore asked, noting the look of anger on the face of Graves. He’d find out about it later, but wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to make another mistake.
“A ritual. Not sure of the origins, but something that is so dark, I’ve heard Voodoo Necromancers refuse to use it. Which is extremely rare, so I have to assume it’s tied to the French meaning of his altered name. Flight From Death. I don’t think anyone made an immortality potion, nor has another Philosopher’s Stone been created.”
“If hired, would you consent to it being a multi-year contract?”
“I will, under the condition that, should we get wind of anything that would explain his survival, I can take a year or two to search for it.”
“Why a year or two?”
“My contacts. They might be able to give us more information that needs to be followed up on immediately. I’d alert you first, but other than that, I would have to be extremely careful.”
Dumbledore nodded his agreement, looking at the lone application. He struggled to figure out whether he should trust the author of a book series that he doubted, or a former assassin.
“What would be the book, or books, you’d have the students purchase?”
“I’d start with Self-Defense Spellwork. It would give them a solid foundation to build on.”
“You’re hired. I shall get in touch with your uncle, but make no mistake. One toe out of line, and I will personally deliver you to the Siberian Gulag that was recently decommissioned by the ICW. Without clothes, nor your wand, and allow you to try and survive there until the winter.”
AFTER THE YEAR
Darius held his glass of malt scotch and looked at the headmaster with darkened eyes. He had been separated from Potter, helping his friend after the foolish Lockhart had tried to erase their memories. Why did the bastard have to be on the grounds to try and plead his case for next year’s DADA teacher!?
“Horcruxes. The monster made horcruxes.” Darius mumbled, horrified. He heard things about them, but only from ancient civilizations. And they usually led to the downfall of them all, and even the destruction of Atlantis.
“Plural?” Dumbledore asked gently, letting the horror of the discovery settle in the back of his mind. He’d have enough time to rage about the depths his old student went to in order to try and fight the natural cycle.
“Only thing that makes sense.” His eyes met the sky-blue eyes of a man who had watched him like a hawk. “One wouldn’t suit his narcissistic personality. One can be destroyed during a battle, and the ritual is rumored to be taxing.”
“Do you know of a set limit? That could help us find them.”
“From what I understand, the Ancient Inca civilization has a ruler who made three. Ancient Egyptians had a Pharaoh that created nine. A Roman Emperor created thirteen, though he went insane after the last, destroying the vessels. The Pharaoh was betrayed by his closest advisor, with none of his vessels being destroyed, but he was still killed.”
“How?”
“A judgement spell meant to judge souls. If it failed, the soul was banished to the planes of limbo. If it passed, then it could request another soul to be judged. It was lost over time, and people have altered it to being a deity named Anubis.”
“You’ll take the next two years to find out what you can. As for the explanation, I believe that you introduced yourself as someone who hunted items and knowledge of past civilizations. Rumors of an ancient city was found, so you requested the opportunity to check it out. Hopefully you can find a way to cleanse the objects.”
“Cleanse? Don’t you mean destroy? Unless you have a theory about one.” Albus nodded, and felt himself age another hundred years. Darius gave him so much aid, though he was incapable of acting without throwing an innocent under the bus. It was time to give another the trust he received.
“I believe that Harry Potter is an unintentional horcrux. All of the experts I have consulted have been unable to ascertain the truth. Nor could any of the healers I consulted. The goblins were going to charge the Potter vault at least thirty percent, and I could not haggle it down due to them not having an attorney. The lone one who did was Sirius and I am not sure I could be in the same room as him.”
“I have a friend who was a sympathizer. He worked as an informant for MACUSA after your second duel with the monster. He has a lot of old tomes, so he might have something that’ll offer up something. And our discussion won’t be brought up.” Darius chuckled at the surprised look on Dumbledore’s face. “I’ve seen a lot of black-market stuff, so I’ve picked up a few things. Certain people being brought up would get you killed or rewarded by fear.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You’re part of the group that would get me a lot of rewards, and don’t look upset. It’s out of respect for someone who has done a lot of work to enlighten the British Isles and defeat those who taint magic itself. Sirius, however, is a unique case.”
“Very unique.” Dumbledore drolled, his eyes hardening, almost looking as if they were two balls of lightning more than anything. “A traitor who hid under our noses for so long.”
“No. He’s set up an account with MACUSA and it’s been funding research. One of my contacts works with their International Cooperation agency, and there’s some type of complication between the North American Goblins and the counterparts here. Might be worth digging into, and offer us a chance to use his vaults for good.”