Alex’s thoughts drifted to the award from the Ministry of Magic. A grin spread across his face. “Of course, Professor. I’ll go right away.”
“One more thing,” she added. “The password to Dumbledore’s office is ‘Fizzing Whizbee.’” Her expression softened. “I heard about what happened over Christmas. I’m impressed by your bravery, Alex. But as your professor, I must remind you—not to put yourself in unnecessary danger. This isn’t something a young wizard should be handling alone.”
Her tone was firm, her gaze concerned, yet Alex could sense her genuine care for him. He gave her a reassuring nod.
“Thank you, Professor. I promise not to take unnecessary risks. But when danger finds me, I think it’s best to face it directly.”
Professor McGonagall gave him a faint smile, seeming to appreciate his response.
“Very well. Head to Dumbledore’s office now; he’s waiting for you.”
After bidding Professor McGonagall goodbye, Alex climbed the main tower to the eighth floor, eventually reaching a stone gargoyle. Saying the password she’d given him, “Fizzing Whizbee,” he watched as the gargoyle moved aside, and the wall opened, revealing a spiral staircase that carried him up to the headmaster’s office.
As Alex entered, he found Dumbledore near the door, gently stroking a magnificent, fiery-red bird perched nearby. The bird’s feathers shone brilliantly, reminding Alex of a phoenix he’d seen in a picture book.
Dumbledore turned, his eyes twinkling as he greeted Alex. “Apologies, Alex. Fawkes here has been feeling a bit lonely, so I’ve been spending more time with him. I didn’t notice you arrive.”
Alex smiled back. “No problem, Headmaster. Is Fawkes a phoenix? He looks like the ones I’ve seen in books.”
“Very perceptive,” Dumbledore replied warmly. “Yes, Fawkes is a phoenix. They’re sensitive creatures and quite picky about company, which keeps this old man on his toes.”
He chuckled, though Fawkes looked away, seemingly unimpressed by Dumbledore’s words. Alex found himself fascinated by the phoenix’s personality—it was rare to see he saw a magical creature with such expressive behavior.
Dumbledore noticed his interest and chuckled. “Ah, he’s a bit shy. Too much attention makes him uneasy. Come, have a seat.”
Alex sat down, taking in the headmaster’s office for the first time. It was a large, circular room lined with portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses. Some figures were deep in thought, others dozing, and a few frames were empty. One portrait even scowled at him, clearly not pleased with his presence.
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“Would you like a sweet?” Dumbledore asked, holding up a glass jar brimming with colorful candies. “I’ve grown quite fond of Lemon Sherbet Drops. The mix of sweet and sour somehow brings back memories from my younger days.”
Alex shook his head politely. “Thank you, Professor, but I prefer chocolate.”
Dumbledore chuckled softly, popping a few candies into his mouth. He closed the jar and set it aside, his expression turned serious.
“Now, let’s get to the reason for your visit. I believe you have an idea why I called you here. The Ministry of Magic’s award for your bravery over Christmas has arrived, and I wanted to present it to you myself.”
He took out a piece of parchment with the Ministry’s insignia and handed it to Alex. Scanning it quickly, Alex read the formal statement commending his courage in assisting with the capture of Death Eaters. His attention quickly shifted to the reward section at the bottom:
‘In recognition of his bravery, Mr. Alex Wilson is awarded the British Ministry of Magic’s Silver Medal of Valor and 500 Galleons.’
A smile spread across Alex’s face. The reward was generous, and he found himself warming to Minister Millicent Bagnold’s reputation—she was efficient, quick, and fair. The Ministry had acted decisively, and Alex felt genuinely grateful.
Watching him, Dumbledore suppressed a smile of his own. After a moment, he opened a flannel-wrapped box and a heavy leather bag, setting them on the desk.
“Here you are, our brave little hero,” he said with a warm smile. “Your medal and your reward.”
Alex picked up the bag of Galleons, feeling the solid weight of the coins. He didn’t even bother opening it to count; the weight assured him it was correct. Instead, he eagerly opened the flannel box to reveal a beautiful, round silver medal hanging on a short, dark ribbon. The medal had a delicate engraving with a bold capital “M,” representing the Ministry of Magic.
“Minister Bagnold wanted to present this to you in person,” Dumbledore explained, watching Alex’s reaction. “She believes young wizards like you set an excellent example for others. However, I persuaded her to honor your request for privacy—at least for now. But if the chance arises, she may eventually wish to make it public.”
Alex felt a wave of gratitude. “Thank you, Professor, and please thank the Minister for me as well. I’m grateful for this arrangement. It’s more than enough.”
Dumbledore nodded approvingly, then seemed to remember something. “Ah, one more thing—a gift from an anonymous friend.” He reached into a drawer and brought out a small, finely crafted crystal bottle, handing it to Alex.
Curious, Alex held it up to the light, admiring the shimmering, thick liquid inside. The bottle was beautifully crafted, clearly made with skill and care.
“This is a rare and valuable potion—Baruffio's Brain Elixir. It’s difficult to brew and even harder to obtain. I’ve inspected it myself, and it’s flawless. The potion sharpens mental clarity and focus, but it’s powerful. Only a single drop mixed in water is needed. Too much can lead to headaches, nausea, and, in extreme cases, temporary unconsciousness.”
Alex’s eyes widened. He’d read about this potion before. It was worth hundreds of Galleons due to its rarity and the challenges involved in making it. Even the ingredients were hard to find, and a single mistake in brewing could turn it into something dangerous.
“Who would give me something this valuable?” Alex murmured, unable to hide his surprise. “Is there any way to know who sent it?”