Chapter 65 - An Unusual Request
The feast ended far too quickly. One moment the Great Hall was full of food, laughter and excited first-years. The next, students were beginning to leave for their dormitories.
I had barely finished the last of my pumpkin juice when one of the prefects approached me.
"Arthur, Professor McGonagall asked me to tell you that she wants to see you in her office after dinner. Before curfew."
I paused.
Well.
That was quick. I already had a good idea why she wanted to see me.
"Thank you," I said.
A few of my friends immediately looked interested.
"What did you do this time?" one asked.
"Nothing," I replied.
"That's exactly what someone who did something would say."
Others at the table laughed.
I stood up and prepared to go.
"I'll tell you later."
"Which means you definitely did something," another friend called after me.
I ignored them and headed toward Professor McGonagall's office.
A few minutes later, I stood before her office and knocked on the door.
"Enter."
After receiving permission, I stepped inside.
Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk. Several stacks of parchment rested neatly beside her. Near the center of the desk lay a familiar letter. My application.
She gestured toward the chair.
"Sit down, Mr. Dursley."
I obeyed immediately.
Professor McGonagall adjusted her spectacles and picked up the parchment.
"Mr. Arthur Dursley," she began, her voice crisp and controlled, "during my years of teaching, I have received many unusual requests."
She looked directly at me.
"This may be the strangest."
That was probably fair.
She lifted the parchment slightly.
"Care to explain exactly why you are requesting permission to complete your Fourth-Year examinations before Christmas and your Fifth-Year examinations before the end of this school year?"
I nodded.
"Yes, Professor."
"Then explain."
I took a breath.
"I have already completed most of the Fourth-Year curriculum independently. To be honest, much of it would be revision for me. Apart from some practical work in subjects such as Potions, Herbology and certain Charms, I believe I am already working significantly ahead of my year."
Professor McGonagall's expression did not change.
"So your argument is that remaining within the standard curriculum would waste your time."
"Yes, Professor."
"An exceptionally arrogant statement."
"Possibly."
One eyebrow rose.
"Possibly?"
"Yes, Professor. But I believe it is also accurate."
For a moment I thought she might deduct points.
Instead, her lips twitched very slightly.
"Continue."
"I believe I can complete Fourth Year by Christmas and prepare for the O.W.L. curriculum by June."
Professor McGonagall folded her hands.
"Do you understand what O.W.L. examinations represent, Mr. Dursley?"
"Yes, Professor."
"O.W.L. results determine future careers. These exams are considerably more difficult than anything you have yet encountered and they require years of preparation."
"Yes, Professor."
She stared at me.
I stared back.
Finally she sighed.
"Mr. Dursley, you are either remarkably confident or remarkably foolish."
"I believe I am not the second one."
"Most foolish people think the same."
I wisely chose not to respond.
She looked down at the parchment again and continued.
"You are proposing to take two years of education in a single year."
"Yes."
"And according to this application, you intend to continue the arrangement afterwards. "Every six months?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Meaning that by the time your classmates sit their O.W.L.s, you intend to be sitting your N.E.W.T.s."
"Yes, Professor."
The office fell silent.
Professor McGonagall removed her spectacles. That was never a good sign.
"What," she asked carefully, "is the real reason?"
I hesitated.
"The real reason?"
"Yes, Mr. Dursley."
Her eyes narrowed.
"I know precisely how much time you devote to your studies. I also know how much time you spend on extracurricular activities and specially with those three girls."
That was a polite way of pointing to my romantic adventures.
"You are not merely trying to avoid boredom. Nor are you simply trying to save time."
I remained silent.
Professor McGonagall leaned back slightly.
"So what is the actual reason?"
I thought quickly of deflecting it. Several excuses came to my mind but none felt right.
Finally I sighed and told her a half truth.
"It's Harry."
Professor McGonagall blinked. Her expression softened slightly.
"Harry?"
"Yes."
"What about Harry?"
I chose my words carefully.
"I have a feeling that trouble will find him."
Professor McGonagall's face became unreadable.
"I see."
"I know how that sounds."
"Yes," she said dryly. "You sound like a child attempting to predict the future."
I smiled faintly. She did not.
"I am serious, Professor."
"So am I."
"I don't have magical parents or magical guardians. There are limits on what I can do or where I can live. There are limits on what I can arrange for my family."
Professor McGonagall listened quietly.
"If something happens in the future, which I think it will, I want to be prepared."
"Prepared?"
"Yes."
"How?"
I took a breath.
"By becoming independent as early as possible."
Understanding appeared in her eyes.
"Ah."
She finally understood where this was going.
"You wish to become legally emancipated after completing your education."
"Yes."
"And after that?"
"I want to make things easier for my family. Possibly move somewhere more suitable. Maybe establish a magical residence. Give Harry and Dudley opportunities they currently don't have. And prepare Harry to the best of my abilities."
Professor McGonagall was silent for a long time. Finally she stood and walked toward the window.
"You are fourteen years old."
"Almost fourteen and half."
"That was not an invitation to negotiate."
"Sorry, Professor."
She looked outside into the dark grounds.
"When I was your age, I worried about homework, Quidditch matches and whether I would embarrass myself in class. You are concerned with legal status, family protection, educational acceleration and the future safety of Harry Potter."
That sounded worse when someone else said it.
Eventually she turned back toward me.
"You are carrying burdens that should not belong to a child."
I didn't know what to say to that. For once, neither did she. Finally she returned to her desk.
"Very well."
I blinked.
"Professor?"
"I said very well."
Hope immediately rose in me.
Professor McGonagall raised a finger.
"Do not celebrate yet."
The hope immediately disappeared.
"You will be evaluated continuously. Every professor involved will monitor your progress. The moment your performance falls below the required standard, this arrangement ends. Without warning."
"Yes, Professor."
"With no appeal and no complaint."
I hesitated.
She stared.
"Okay, Professor."
"Good."
I allowed myself a small smile.
"I won't give you the chance to cancel it."
"Do not be cheeky, Mr. Dursley."
"Sorry, Professor."
"You are still a child."
Her voice softened slightly.
"An exceptionally talented child, certainly. An unusually hardworking child. Perhaps even a remarkable child. But still a child."
I blinked.
That might have been the closest thing to praise Professor McGonagall had ever given me.
The stern look returned immediately.
"You are scarcely older than Harry."
I nodded.
"You should remember that occasionally."
"I'll try."
"See that you do."
She folded her hands once more.
"And as for Harry…"
I looked up. Professor McGonagall's expression became thoughtful.
"There are many things you do not know."
That was certainly true.
"You are intelligent, Mr. Dursley. Exceptionally so. But intelligence is not the same as understanding."
I listened carefully.
"There are matters involving Harry that extend far beyond Hogwarts."
Her voice grew quieter.
"Far beyond even what most adults understand."
I remembered the prophecy.
The war. Voldemort. All the hidden politics.
"You need not carry all of it alone."
I remained silent.
"Harry Potter is protected by more people than you realise."
Her gaze became distant for a moment.
"He has been watched over, guarded and protected since the night he survived."
Then she looked directly at me again.
"And despite what you may believe, the staff of Hogwarts care deeply about his welfare."
I wasn't entirely convinced. But I nodded anyway.
Professor McGonagall picked up another stack of parchments. The conversation was clearly over.
"Now then," she said briskly. "Return to your dormitory."
I stood.
"Yes, Professor."
"And Mr. Dursley?"
"Yes?"
A faint smile appeared.
"Try very hard not to complete the school education before your sixteenth birthday."
I couldn't help smiling.
"No promises, Professor."
"Out."
I left before she could change her mind.
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End of Chapter 65 - An Unusual Request