Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"I have two things to do." Dumbledore turned, his long, silvery hair blazing like flames in the morning light. "First, to ensure Kane is capable of keeping his promises. Second, to ensure that when he does keep his promises, he doesn't pay a price beyond what his age dictates."

He walked to his desk and pulled out a blank sheet of parchment. The quill pen automatically dipped in ink and wrote smoothly on the paper:

[Proposal regarding special teaching arrangements for Kane Malfoy]

"Starting next week," Dumbledore explained to Dipper as he wrote, "he will no longer attend regular classes. Not because he doesn't need to learn, but because the existing education system can no longer meet his developmental needs."

Quill pen pause:

"Instead, a customized learning program was implemented: studying ancient magical theories under Flitwick's guidance, practicing advanced potions under Snape's supervision, and in the evenings... personally instructing students on knowledge about power and responsibility that is not found in any textbooks."

"What about the exam?" Dippet asked.

"He will not take the House exams," Dumbledore said. "At the end of the semester, the professors of the relevant subjects and I will conduct a comprehensive assessment. The focus will not be on how much knowledge he has memorized, but on whether he can transform that knowledge into wisdom, and whether he can understand the ethics and costs behind magic."

He wrote his last line:

[Additional assignment: Serving as an assistant instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.]

"That's the key." Dumbledore put down his quill. "The best way to learn is to let Kane teach others. He needs to learn not only how to use the power, but also how to explain it, how to pass it on, and how to ensure that others can safely wield it."

"Moreover," a sharp glint flashed in his blue eyes, "it allows him to stay connected with his peers. Being a teaching assistant is both a responsibility and a bond."

The parchment automatically rolled up and flew to the office door—it would be delivered automatically to the desks of each dean.

Dumbledore looked out the window again, this time focusing his gaze on the castle and on the silver-haired boy who was probably making plans in the cellar.

"As for the centaurs' new habitat..." he said softly, "Kane should already have a place in mind."

At the same time, in Slytherin's cellar.

The parchment in front of Kane did not contain a diagram of the Ministry of Magic's structure.

It was a map of the British wizarding world—not the kind sold in stores, but a real geographical map he pieced together himself based on ancient books, centaur star maps, and information about the Forbidden Forest provided by Hagrid.

His quill pen dotted one spot:

The Scottish Highlands, Lake Morag region.

"Here," Kane muttered to himself, "two hundred miles from Hogwarts, far from the wizarding quarters, with a natural magical barrier—the mountains surrounding the Lake District contain rich mithril veins that interfere with Apparition and most tracking spells."

He pulled out a yellowed document:

[Historical records of the Lake Morag region: A sacred site jointly inhabited by centaurs and druids in the 9th century AD. Abandoned in the 13th century due to an invasion by werewolf tribes. Current inhabitants: Zero. Current threats: Possible ancient magical traps, remnants of dark creatures, and...]

The quill pen pauses here.

And werewolves.

These aren't ordinary werewolves; they're descendants of the werewolf tribe that invaded years ago. According to Hagrid's drunken revelation, that werewolf tribe still roams around the Lake District, and their leader is named... Griffin Graybock.

Kane's grey-blue eyes narrowed slightly.

Voldemort's followers.

The werewolf who bit Bill Weasley in the original comics and participated in the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.

"Interesting," he said softly, a cold smile playing on his lips. "The process of clearing the habitat is a perfect opportunity to test the effectiveness of Starshine magic against dark creatures. And..."

Furthermore, if they were to encounter Voldemort's forces in that area—such as the werewolf tribe—they might be able to obtain information about the Dark Lord's resurrection plan.

It's even possible that... they might encounter Voldemort's remnant soul beforehand.

Kane wrote on the parchment:

[Summer Vacation Objectives: 1. Conduct on-site reconnaissance of the Morag Lake region; 2. Assess the werewolf threat level; 3. Test the practical effectiveness of Star Power magic; 4. Gather intelligence related to Voldemort.]

He put away the map and took out a silver centaur badge from the drawer—a token given to him by Ferenze that could be used to summon centaur guides in the Forbidden Forest.

There are still two months left in summer vacation.

That's enough for him to make all the necessary preparations.

At breakfast time, Dumbledore did not sit at the teachers' table as usual. He stood at the front of the Great Hall, his silver robes solemn and dignified in the morning light.

"Please allow me a few minutes," he said, his voice gentle yet powerful, "to announce a special adjustment to the teaching arrangements."

The entire auditorium fell silent.

"After careful discussion with the deans," Dumbledore continued, "we have decided to personalize Kane Malfoy's learning plan. Starting next week, he will no longer attend regular classes..."

hum-

The whispers exploded instantly.

"No more classes?!"

"Why should I?!"

"This is too much..."

Dumbledore raised his hand to quell the commotion:

"...Instead, a customized advanced learning program was designed collaboratively by the professors. Furthermore, given Kane's exceptional abilities in Defense Against the Dark Arts—"

He looked at the Slytherin table, his gaze meeting Kane's:

"—He will officially serve as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching assistant, responsible for guiding practical training courses for fifth graders and above."

Dead silence.

Then came an even bigger uproar.

"A teaching assistant?! He's only a second-year student!"

"Has Professor Blake gone mad?!"

"Slytherins really do have privileges..."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other in bewilderment.

Ron's fork fell into his plate, Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry thought of the three ravens that had turned to ashes on the Astronomy Tower last night—perhaps the appointment wasn't entirely without reason.

Draco sat upright at the Slytherin table, his face beaming with smug satisfaction.

Pansy has already started calculating how much social capital becoming a teaching assistant's girlfriend would bring.

Snape sat expressionless in the teachers' seat, but a very faint glimmer of—perhaps satisfaction?—flirted in his dark eyes.

Sirius grinned, his gray eyes gleaming with mischief: "Teaching assistant! Then I can command them to teach me!"

After a brief pause in their discussion, Dumbledore and the others added the most crucial sentence:

"In addition, Kane will not participate in the college's unified examinations at the end of this semester. His academic assessment will be conducted jointly by the relevant professors and me, focusing on his practical application and depth of understanding of magic."

This time, there wasn't even a whisper.

A complete, shocked silence.

No exams? In Hogwarts' thousand-year history, there has never been such a precedent!

Kane stood up.

He wasn't smug, nor was he feigning humility; he simply walked calmly to the front of the auditorium.

His silver-green robe swayed slightly with each step, and his grey-blue eyes swept across the entire room.

He stopped beside Dumbledore and turned to face all the students.

"I know many people will have questions." His voice wasn't loud, but it strangely echoed throughout the auditorium. "Why me? What right do you have to choose me?"

He paused, leaving the question hanging in the air.

He looked at the Gryffindor table, at Ravenclaw, at Hufflepuff:

"All I can say is: Give me one semester. Come and see my practical lessons, question my teaching methods, and test whether I'm qualified to stand in that position. If by the end of the semester most people still think I'm not worthy..."

He turned to Dumbledore and nodded slightly:

"...I will voluntarily give up all special arrangements and return to regular classes."

This is not a request for permission; it is a statement of fact.

Dumbledore smiled, a smile that held both satisfaction and anticipation: "A very fair suggestion. Well then, let's begin next week."