A nightcap

The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the spacious semicircular room with warmth. Portraits of past headmasters of various sizes hung on the walls, all tacitly pretending to be asleep. The Headmaster's Office could hardly have looked more magical-but Brian was a little hazy on how he had arrived there.

After they had said goodbye to Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore had taken him for a stroll through the castle at night, presumably to help him get used to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

The Hospital Wing was quite a distance from the Headmaster's Office, yet when Brian saw the gargoyle guarding its entrance, he thought they had only walked for five minutes.

The clock inside the Headmaster's Office, however, told Brian that he had spent a full twenty minutes on that brief journey.

"The brain can play tricks on you sometimes," Brian murmured.

Along the way, his senses had been constantly stimulated by new and wonderful things. Bombarded by so much information, his perception of time had become unreliable.

Brian remembered first greeting a group of ladies staying up late playing chess in a portrait on the wall, then saying hello to a revolving staircase with a mind of its own. Next, he had nodded to ghosts passing freely through walls, and finally responded with a quiet gasp to two pairs of hands that had appeared out of nowhere at a corner and waved enthusiastically at him.

By the time Brian thought to wave back, the two pairs of hands had vanished again-he was certain they were human hands. When he asked Dumbledore about them, Dumbledore gave him a smile that said more than words could.

"Oh, were those two mischievous students just now?" Brian realized.

Invisibility magic-the stuff of robbers' and master thieves' dreams. Dumbledore had used it on his car.

"I couldn't say," Dumbledore said mysteriously.

Hogwarts Castle had a distinctly fantastical air at night, making it the perfect place for students to break the rules and sneak around-Brian was certain the people who had greeted him were students out on a nighttime excursion. That was more like it. Students were at an age when they had endless energy to burn. How could they possibly resist sneaking out at night for an adventure?

He began looking forward to seeing Hogwarts Castle bustling with life during the day. It was a school, after all. How could it be complete without students laughing and playing?

At that thought, Brian couldn't help asking, "Sir, do students ever get into arguments with the enchanted portraits?"

Brian promptly decided to get on good terms with the enchanted portraits.

His thoughts were wandering so freely that, upon entering the Headmaster's Office and seeing a magnificent scarlet bird singing softly atop a bookcase, he merely exclaimed, "How beautiful," before turning his attention to the silvery instruments puffing out wisps of vapor.

Only when a goblet brimming with mead floated in front of him did Brian emerge from his dazzling jumble of memories.

He finally remembered the question he had wanted to ask back in the Hospital Wing. He hurriedly looked at the old man, who was stroking Fawkes the phoenix (Dumbledore: "My dear companion, Fawkes. A dependable phoenix."), and blurted out:

"Professor Dumbledore, which of Mr. Lester's memories did you take away? Er, should I be asking? You don't have to tell me, really-well, actually, you do. I desperately want to know."

Brian disliked suppressing his curiosity and was never ashamed to ask questions.

Once, after getting drunk, he had pressed a passing cat for an answer to how a person could live as happily as a cat. He had successfully earned several impatient meows and a scratch on his arm.

By his own incomplete count, this was the seventy-third question he had asked Dumbledore that day-perhaps afterward he could write A Muggle's Hundred Questions About Wizards and sell it to other Muggles taking their first steps into the wizarding world, just like him. Brian gave the idea's feasibility some serious consideration.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, smiled as he explained:

"Of course, my boy. I've been waiting for you to ask. The answer is-all the parts concerning the mysterious magical power within you. They were rather scattered, so I used a little trick, taking advantage of the human brain's remarkable ability to make things fit together. I removed some and left others.

"When Lester wakes up, he'll believe that he held his wand the wrong way round while using excessive force in the course of his duties, accidentally injured himself, and was brought to Hogwarts for treatment by a Mad White-Bearded Old Man who arrived at the scene just in time.

"As for the punishment-the part between his passing out and reaching the hospital-I was very careful not to touch any of it. I sincerely hope he'll remember this lesson. One thing is undeniable: wizards are born with a greater ability to hurt others than Muggles, which means we must be all the more mindful of keeping our emotions in check."

Brian took those words to heart. He wanted to applaud Dumbledore's wisdom, but Fawkes looked as though he was about to fall asleep, so he had to abandon the idea. Lowering his voice, he asked, "I have another question. Why are you willing to help me like this?"

He knew he had gotten himself into serious trouble, and judging by Lester's behavior, the Ministry of Magic was a somewhat neurotic governing body.

Who knew what would have happened if he had actually been taken to the Ministry of Magic?

Without Dumbledore's help, he probably wouldn't have been drinking a delicious nightcap right now, but a poison that would send him into an emotional breakdown, weeping and repenting for three days and nights straight.

"To put you deeply in my debt, of course," Dumbledore said with a smile, swirling the purple liquid in his goblet.

"There is a powerful force hidden within you that neither Madam Pomfrey nor I know how to handle. And from what we've seen so far, that power obeys you. You haven't exploded, have you? I have a feeling that I'll need your help in the future."

"Oh, what a practical reason." Brian suddenly felt much more at ease. "But I like it very much. Thank you."

He thought the power within him might be one reason Dumbledore had helped him, but certainly not the whole story. The old man had clearly said this to ease his sense of obligation, yet it had comforted him all the same.

Owing someone a favor wasn't a bad thing, but it did weigh on one's mind. Eager to do something, Brian asked:

"As you said, that's in the future. Is there anything I can do for you, or for Hogwarts, right now?"

"On that subject... Brian, I had actually intended to have you take on some of the Muggle Studies teaching-no one could be better suited to it. Professor Burbage, Hogwarts' Muggle Studies professor, often complains to me that she's been rushed off her feet every day lately. Some weeks, she only gets to enjoy the afternoon tea prepared by the house-elves on four days. Oh, and this poor old man sometimes doesn't get even a single afternoon tea all week... I know you could help her, but I'm afraid it won't be possible this term. Abruptly changing professors wouldn't be good for the students, and it's rather late..."

After a little wine, Dumbledore finally showed the rambling, tangential side befitting his age.

"So, do you like libraries?"

Brian was a little surprised by the sudden change of subject. He answered honestly, "They're all right. I'm not particularly fond of them. For a while after graduation, I worked part-time at a library during the day and played drums at a concert hall at night."

"What about a magical library?" Dumbledore refilled both their goblets. This time, the drink was an enticing pale red and smelled of fruit.

"Now that I definitely couldn't refuse." Brian drained his goblet. Cherry-flavored wine, with just the right balance of tartness and sweetness. It tasted wonderful.

"Oh, splendid-Madam Pince has also been pouring out her troubles to me lately. She's Hogwarts' current librarian. 'The students are far too naughty! They have no respect for books! They scribble all over them! They have no respect for the rule against noise in the library! They bring enchanted food inside! They even sneak into the library in the middle of the night, hoping to get their hands on a book from the Restricted Section without a professor's permission!'"

Dumbledore finished his impersonation.

"In short, she is equally desperate for an assistant. I think she'll like you, Brian."

"Then I'd be happy to lend a hand." Brian understood what Dumbledore meant and was more than willing to accept the job. In good spirits, he pointed at the phoenix and asked quietly, "Does Fawkes sleep well?"

By then, Fawkes had successfully tucked his head into his feathers, making such a large bird suddenly look much smaller-apparently, the white noise of Dumbledore's rambling had a soporific effect.

Dumbledore cast a spell on the phoenix with his wand. "Fawkes sleeps very well. He always sleeps straight through until morning. There, now we can speak as loudly as we like."

"How nice. I often have trouble sleeping-if I have something to do the next day, I can't get to sleep the night before. Without a drink before bed, my head starts fighting with my pillow," Brian said enviously.

"Minerva has the same trouble as you. Oh, Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts' deputy headmistress and Transfiguration professor. She never sleeps soundly the night before a Gryffindor Quidditch match," Dumbledore said with heartfelt sincerity. "She's exceptionally capable and never neglects her work. Hogwarts could manage without me, but not without her."

Brian realized that, besides being headmaster, Dumbledore seemed to moonlight as a confidant for the staff. He worried that such a workload might be a little too much for a hundred-year-old man-and then wondered with further concern whether Headmaster Dumbledore, for all his power and status, had anyone he could confide in. Patting his chest, Brian said:

"At least as far as I'm concerned, Hogwarts couldn't manage without you. So if anything ever troubles you, I'd be happy to share a few more glasses with you. Or bowls. Or barrels."

Dumbledore laughed merrily, then turned and rummaged through a drawer. "Of course, of course. Thank you for your concern for an old man. But before that, we'd best get our official business out of the way."

He took a sheet of thick parchment bearing the Hogwarts Crest from the cabinet-a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle surrounding a capital H.