Harry Potter: I Cast

"Ok then let's begin with a basic question Professor Dumbledore," I said, taking note as he grabbed an acid pop. His long fingers plucked the candy from the bowl with surprising dexterity for someone his age.

"Hit me," Dumbledore replied, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement behind his half-moon spectacles.

I looked at his wand where I could still feel the cold, almost death-like magic that was spreading around. The sensation made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to focus on the interview.

"How old are you?"

"I'm 109, will be turning 110 this August."

"See I told you he was damn old," Jarvey said from my shoulder, his tail twitching against my neck.

"Yeah totally, like I knew he was in the last two great wizarding wars but still." I tried to keep my voice casual, though my mind was already racing with calculations about magical lifespans.

"Oh if you think I'm old, you should know of some other wizards. I know a couple in France that's over 600 years old." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with what might have been mischief or something else entirely.

Wait what? Six hundred? I thought the maximum lifespan of a wizard was between 150 and 200. My curiosity immediately sparked, and I leaned forward slightly.

"Can you tell us who this wizard is?"

"I'd rather not without his consent." Dumbledore's tone was gentle but firm as he reached for another sherbert lemon.

Hmm still if he lived that long I'm sure there is record of him, still what spell or charm did he use. Another mystery to add to my growing list.

The interview continued, ranging from questions about Hogwarts' history to Dumbledore's favorite teaching moments. Throughout it all, I carefully tracked his candy consumption, noting not just what he ate but the order in which he chose them. Every detail could be important for guessing his office password.

By list of what he ate the most it was.

Sherbert lemons (he seemed particularly fond of these, often reaching for them mid-sentence).

Jelly Slugs (which he ate with surprising elegance for such a messy candy).

Assorted Sours (he didn't even flinch at the tartness).

Apple Rings (these he saved for between answers).

Acid Pops (somehow managing not to burn holes in his tongue).

Liquorice Wand (which he twirled absently while considering deeper questions).

All this candy had burnt a big hole in my savings, but mom earned more than enough to supply this (thankfully).

Throughout the interview, Jarvey provided colorful commentary that somehow made Dumbledore laugh rather than take offense. The headmaster seemed genuinely amused by my familiar's irreverent nature, even when Jarvey called him a "bearded menace to dental hygiene" after particularly enthusiastic candy consumption.

"Well folks that's all the time we have for today, as I do have some stuff to get done," I announced, checking my watch again. "Tune in tomorrow morning for catchy tunes and cool magical questions. Remember you can hand them to me directly or hang them on the door of the station, remember fifth floor, second corridor to the left, third room. Real Wizards FM out."

I cut the broadcast immediately, before turning once more to Dumbledore. The sun had already begun to set a while ago and it was almost dark which made my artificial lights, light up automatically.

Dumbledore looked at this while muttering.

"That's a neat little trick."

"Yeah it's kind of similar to the torches in the castle corridors."

"Hmm, I see."

"You see what?"

"Why Flitwick made you his apprentice."

"Dumbledore sir, you already gave me this compliment, not that I don't like it, but it's a bit embarrassing."

"Hmm, no need to be embarrassed, in fact I was quite like you at your age."

"You were a dumpster fire of planning," Jarvey said from the table.

Dumbledore smiled at his commentary and answered.

"Quite."

We went quiet for a bit which made me look at my watch, 6:38

Normally I would stay on until eight pm, but if things had gone as planned I would need to do other stuff this evening. My stomach churned slightly at the thought of what I was about to do with that teacup.

"Well that was a wondrous time." Dumbledore stood, straightening his robes with a practiced motion.

"Thanks to you professor," I replied quickly. "Seriously your transfiguration is on another level." This wasn't mere flattery - his casual demonstration of advanced transfiguration during our discussion had been genuinely impressive.

"Oh why thank you Young Felix," he said as he stroked his beard. Not a single hair fell loose, much to my frustration.

Then we went quiet for a bit before I said, "I'll show you out."

I went to the door with Jarvey on shoulder and Albus behind. My familiar's claws dug slightly into my shoulder, suggesting he sensed my tension.

Then I said aloud.

"I am One with Words."

I didn't really care if Dumbledore knew the password since he would still need the other parts to open the door. The magical signature required was unique to me, after all.

I opened it up and Dumbledore went through but before I could close it, he muttered, "That's an interesting password."

I don't know why but I felt a chill crawl down my back, I began to feel cold and looked at his wand. The deathly magic seemed stronger for a moment, almost pulsing.

I'd steal that too, in due time.

Though something told me that might be even more challenging than acquiring the Sorting Hat.

"Well bye professor Dumbledore."

"Goodnight, Felix."

The door shut. I sagged against it, heart pounding. Jarvey's claws dug into my collarbone.

"Smooth, genius. Real subtle."

"Shut up."

"Kiss-ass."

"Shut. Up."

Back in the studio, I tore the place apart. Cushions flipped, drawers upended, even the rug shaken out. Nothing. Not a single silver hair from that awesome beard. Seriously how did he not lose a single beard hair in here. Was it charmed to stay attached or something?

Well it doesn't matter guess I was going the gross route, unholstering my wand, I placed it on the wood of the table transfiguring a small swab before looking at Dumbledore's cup.

"So you're really doing that," Jarvey said, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Not like I have another choice, let's just hope there is enough." The words came out more defensive than I intended.

I holstered my wand and muttered, "I Cast Gravity Upheaval."

From the deep end of one of the shelves came three bottles of black mud-like liquid (I had made enough unfinished polyjuice for eight vials but I thought that three would be enough for this venture, meaning I still have five left), that bubbled inside the glass vial. The unfinished polyjuice potion.

I uncorked one, immediately smelling the stench. It was like overcooked cabbage mixed with dirty socks and something indefinably worse.

Focusing, I levitated the cup. Dumbledore's lip prints glistened on the rim. Ugh. With careful precision, I swabbed the faint residue, then uncorked one of the three vials I'd hidden under the floorboards. The Polyjuice inside sloshed thickly, black as tar.

"I Cast Gravity Upheaval."

The vial floated to eye level. Dropping the swab in, I stirred counterclockwise with my wand. The potion fizzed violently.

Bubbles burst, spraying flecks of putrid sludge. Jarvey ducked behind a speaker.

"Is it supposed to smell like a troll's armpit?" he yelled.

"No—Merlin—!"

The first vial exploded. Thick liquid splattered the walls, smoking where it landed. Jarvey screeched curses. 

However as the second and third vials began to bubble I knew these ones were right, the stench vanished, replaced by the crisp scent of a new book and lemongrass, soon after the dark mud like liquid turned into fine silver.

"Thank Merlin it worked, step 2 down," I said as I corked the two potions before grabbing them from the table and watched as the liquid inside swished and swooshed.

"I can't believe you're going to drink that," Jarvey said on my shoulder, his fur bristling with revulsion.

"Welp from what I know if the person has a good heart then the taste is good, I'm sure it won't be that bad... I hope." Though given what I knew about Dumbledore's past from my vision of Snape, I wondered just how "good" his heart truly was.

The silver liquid continued to swirl in the vials, catching the evening light like liquid mercury. In two weeks, during the Quidditch match, I would find out just what it tasted like. For now, I had some cleaning up to do and a radio show to plan.

The things I do for magical research, I thought as I began scourgifying the exploded potion remains. Though I had to admit, the lengths I was willing to go to probably said more about me than it did about magic itself.