The small, sleepy town bordering the forest didn't have much in the way of fine dining, but that had never stopped Klaus Mikaelson from getting exactly what he wanted.
He led Hope and Alexander into a quaint, dimly lit tavern. Without breaking stride, Klaus locked eyes with the bewildered manager. His pupils dilated, the compulsion taking root instantly. "You are going to bring us the absolute best food your kitchen can produce," Klaus murmured smoothly, "and a bottle of your finest, oldest bourbon. And you will ensure we are completely undisturbed."
Within minutes, the table was laden with roasted meats, fresh bread, and rich gravies. While Hope and Alexander happily dug into their well-earned meal after the hunt, Klaus sat back, nursing a glass of dark amber bourbon with a satisfied sigh.
Suddenly, a faint, pulsing warmth radiated from his right hand. Klaus glanced down. The silver Dragon figurine ring on his middle finger was glowing with a soft, internal light. It was a localized communication artifact, specifically crafted by Freya so Harry could reach them.
Klaus's demeanor shifted from relaxed to intrigued. With a casual flick of his wrist, he cast a localized, heavy privacy charm over their booth, ensuring no sound would escape. He then pulled a newspaper from the table, laid it flat on the wooden table, and tapped it twice with his index finger.
The paper instantly reacted. Ink began to bleed and swirl across the surface, pulling itself upward to form a three-dimensional, moving sketch of an eleven-year-old boy's face.
"Hi, Father. Hope, Alexander," Harry's voice emanated from the parchment, sounding clear and remarkably relaxed for a boy who had just infiltrated the lion's den.
"Harry, my boy," Klaus greeted, taking a sip of his bourbon. "To what do we owe the pleasure? I trust the wizarding world hasn't bored you to tears yet?"
"Hardly," Harry's inky face grinned. "It's actually brilliant, mostly because of how utterly stupid some of the adults are. At the welcoming feast, Dumbledore actually stood up and announced to the entire school that the third-floor corridor is out of bounds to everyone who doesn't wish to die a very painful death. It's like he's begging people to go look."
Hope paused with her fork halfway to her mouth, shaking her head. "That is terrible security."
"Exactly," Harry agreed. "But that's not the best part. During the feast, Dumbledore tried to slip into my mind. Snape did, too. Both of them hit the ring's wards. You should have seen their faces when they realized they couldn't get a peek. Dumbledore covered it up well, but Snape looked like he'd swallowed a lemon."
Klaus let out a dark, booming laugh. "Ah, the arrogance of wizards, assuming a child's mind is theirs for the taking. I take it Professor Snape did not appreciate being locked out?"
"Not at all," Harry replied, his tone shifting into one of smug satisfaction. "We had our first Potions class today. He immediately tried to single me out, asking me questions about N.E.W.T.-level drafts to humiliate me. But before I could even play dumb, Neville stood up."
Alexander raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "Neville? He took on a teacher on day one?"
"He was brilliant," Harry beamed. "Neville looked Snape dead in the eye and pointed out that we are first years, and testing us on advanced potions was entirely inappropriate. Snape tried to loom over him and intimidate him, but Neville didn't even flinch. He just calmly told Snape that his behavior was highly unprofessional and that he would be writing to his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, about it."
Klaus leaned forward, a proud smirk playing on his lips. Thanks to Mikaelson family intervention in healing Frank and Alice Longbottom, Neville had been raised by his sane, confident parents rather than his overbearing grandmother alone. The boy was a true pureblood heir, not a frightened child.
"The best part?" Harry continued, "Snape actually backed off. He had to. The press has been after him all week. Rita Skeeter wrote a massive exposé in the Daily Bugle —pointing out that Britain has a massive shortage of Aurors and Potions Masters specifically because of Snape's abusive teaching methods. The Board of Governors is watching him like a hawk."
Rita Skeeter was recruited by Elijah for Daily Bugle.
"Magnificent," Klaus purred, raising his glass of bourbon in a mock toast to the parchment. "A coordinated political and social strike on day one. You and young Neville are playing the game beautifully, Harry. Keep up the good work. Let them think you are just children, right until you take the board."
"Will do," Harry smiled. "Talk to you later."
The ink collapsed back into the parchment, leaving it blank once more. Klaus folded it neatly and tucked it away, his blue-green eyes gleaming with pure amusement. The wizarding world truly had no idea what was coming for them.
The glowing ink of Harry's face faded completely, but the privacy charm around their booth remained absolute. Klaus swirled the last sip of his bourbon, a predatory smirk still etched onto his features.
"The boy is doing exceptionally well," Klaus mused, setting the glass down. "But relying on the wit of eleven-year-olds, however sharp, is not a long-term strategy for dismantling Dumbledore's little empire. We need to apply pressure from the top."
Alexander leaned back against the worn leather of the booth, his green eyes calculating. "Then we use the Ministry and the Board of Governors," he suggested, his voice smooth and pragmatic. "Harry just gave us the perfect opening. Dumbledore publicly announced a deadly trap in a school full of children. We know what he's hiding in that corridor and Voldemort is there."
Alexander picked up his water glass, tracing the rim. "When everything inevitably goes wrong—say, a dangerous beast like a Mountain Troll 'accidentally' gets let into the castle to create a diversion—we don't just let it slide. We use it. We have Frank Longbottom and Amelia Bones push for immediate educational reforms."
Klaus's eyes lit up with dark interest. "Go on."
"Frank is a respected war hero and the formidable Lord Longbottom. Amelia heads the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and her niece is in Harry's year," Alexander explained. "If a Troll gets into the school and Dumbledore fails to notify the Board of Governors or the parents, Frank and Amelia can publicly crucify him for negligence. They can demand an inquiry into Hogwarts' security and curriculum."
"And once the Board realizes that Hogwarts has fallen severely behind international standards," Hope chimed in, a wicked, brilliant smile spreading across her face, "they'll demand new staff to oversee the reforms."
Hope leaned across the table, her eyes practically dancing with mischief. "Who better to teach advanced defensive and offensive magic than Uncle Kol? And Aunt Davina could take over Charms, or even introduce a brand-new curriculum on ancestral and elemental magic."
Klaus stared at his daughter, thoroughly delighted. The sheer chaos of letting his psychotic, magic-obsessed brother and his fiercely powerful witch of a sister-in-law loose within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts was almost too perfect to imagine.
"Kol would view the Hogwarts library as his personal playground," Klaus chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "And Dumbledore would have absolute fits trying to control Davina. She answers to no one, least of all a mortal headmaster."
Klaus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, the Original Hybrid looking every bit the master manipulator who had ruled the supernatural underworld for a millennium.
"It is a flawless strategy," Klaus declared. "Frank and Amelia act as the righteous, concerned citizens, dragging Dumbledore's failures into the harsh light of the press. The Board forces a restructuring of the staff to ensure the children's safety, and we slip two of our most lethal assets right past the school's ancient wards."
He pulled out his phone—a modern convenience he had grudgingly come to appreciate—and quickly drafted a message to New Orleans.
"I will contact Kol and Davina immediately and tell them to begin preparing their teaching credentials," Klaus said, his fangs dropping ever so slightly in a terrifying grin. "Let Dumbledore try to play his little games with the Boy Who Lived. By the time he realizes he's been outmaneuvered, the Mikaelsons will be running his school."