After nearly five minutes of shuttling between various elevators, Dumbledore and Avada finally arrived at a luxuriously decorated room. A thin man in black wizard's robes stood in the center. The moment he saw Dumbledore enter, he hurried forward, his face instantly filling with a broad smile.
"Welcome, Professor Dumbledore! I am an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries. You may call me Croaker."
"Hello, Mr. Croaker," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I apologize for interrupting your work, but I've come to confirm something of great importance. During some of my investigations, I detected unmistakable traces of the Department of Mysteries."
He patted Avada lightly on the back, signaling him to step forward a couple of paces. "Do you know what this boy's name is?"
Croaker shook his head, utterly confused.
"He is called—" Dumbledore paused deliberately, then slowly drew out each syllable, "Avada… Kendavia."
At the first three syllables, Croaker jolted violently, nearly drawing his wand in fright. When he realized the situation was not what he had initially imagined, his expression turned decidedly strange.
"Avada Kendavia? Is he an abandoned orphan? And he actually has magical talent?"
"Merlin's beard… what an infinitesimal probability!" Croaker muttered. "Or is it because of the name?"
"So you do know," Dumbledore said evenly, his expression giving nothing away. "In that case, explain it—to me, and to this child whose future is clearly going to be full of trouble."
Croaker froze for a moment, as if about to ask a question, then suddenly seemed to realize something. His face instantly became a spectacle to behold.
"Well… the thing is," he began awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with both Dumbledore and Avada. "That name originated from a research project eleven years ago."
"At the time, the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were becoming increasingly active. As part of the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Mysteries had a duty to contribute—developing better equipment for Aurors and Hit Wizards, and attempting to decipher the Dark Lord's various techniques."
"The research group under my responsibility eventually succeeded in unraveling the Dark Lord's 'name curse'—the magic that allows him to know instantly whenever his name is spoken."
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked in surprise. "You actually cracked that curse? You found a countermeasure?"
"Regrettably, no," Croaker replied, looking even more embarrassed. "The magic is extremely complex and difficult to cast. After deciphering it, we couldn't counter it—or even modify it in the slightest."
"However, that led us to a different idea. Could we exploit the nature of that magic and apply it to detecting Unforgivable Curses and other dark spells?"
Avada's face twitched—he was beginning to grasp what had happened.
"According to the curse's properties, the target had to be a 'name.' So we found a recently abandoned newborn in the Muggle world, registered him in an orphanage, and named him after the incantation of the Killing Curse: Avada Kedavra."
"Next, we placed the 'Taboo' on that child's name. In theory, anyone who cast the Killing Curse would be detected the moment they spoke it, leaving them nowhere to hide!"
"And did you succeed?" Dumbledore asked, the corner of his eye twitching. He felt he'd used up more patience today than in the previous ten years combined.
"As you can see—no," Croaker said bluntly, abandoning any pretense of embarrassment. "Incantations seem to possess unique properties; they cannot function as ordinary names. And if we had succeeded, we'd have applied the method to every dark spell imaginable. We'd have arrested every dark wizard in Britain long ago."
"And did you never consider how someone saddled with such a name would live?" Dumbledore asked.
"We never expected a randomly chosen Muggle orphan to have magical talent," Croaker replied miserably. "And in the Muggle world, who knows what that spell means? He could've lived a normal life there!"
Dumbledore sighed helplessly. He knew this truly couldn't be blamed entirely on the Department of Mysteries—after all, fate was notoriously unpredictable.
"Then let us hear from the person concerned."
Turning to Avada, Dumbledore said gently, "As you've heard, your name is the incantation of an extremely malevolent spell in the magical world. This may bring you endless trouble—being shunned by classmates, unable to find employment, even ostracized by wizarding society at large. Changing your name will not help; a person's first name holds unique magical significance and cannot be severed. The Book of Admittance will only ever display your true name."
"And the cause of all this stands before you, though it was not their intention. Had they succeeded, their work would have benefited the entire magical world immensely."
"You may decide whether to forgive them—and you have the right to demand compensation."
"..."
Avada felt utterly bewildered.
He had merely transmigrated into this world—and yet such an absurd situation had landed squarely on his head. He had read plenty of Harry Potter fanfiction in his previous life, but never encountered anything this outrageous.
"All right," he said weakly. "I can understand that this isn't entirely their fault. I can forgive them… as for compensation, I don't really understand the wizarding world or how to value such things. Professor, could you perhaps suggest something?"
"Thank you for your magnanimity, my boy," Croaker said with visible relief and a tentative smile. "I do have a proposal you might consider."
"First, a direct compensation of three thousand Galleons, along with full reimbursement of all necessary expenses during your education at Hogwarts—textbooks, robes, wand, cauldron, and any other required supplies."
"Furthermore, after graduation, should you find yourself unemployed, you will receive a stipend of twenty Galleons per month. If the Ministry of Magic has staffing needs, you will receive priority assessment and priority hiring. Alternatively, if you choose to open your own shop, the Ministry can provide an interest-free loan of five thousand Galleons, repayable over five years. What do you think?"
Avada turned pleadingly to Dumbledore—he had no concept of the purchasing power of a Galleon.
Dumbledore nodded. "It's a reasonable arrangement. You may accept it."
"Very well, Professor," Avada agreed, though he still found the situation surreal. The very first thing he did upon entering the wizarding world was receive an enormous compensation package…
He didn't even have a wand yet!
"Then it's settled," Croaker said, clapping his hands, clearly relieved. "I'll submit the proposal to the Financial Office. With the Department of Mysteries' influence and your involvement, Professor Dumbledore, approval should take about an hour. Mr. Kendavia may go and purchase a wand first, then return to sign the magical contract."
"In that case, we'll take our leave for now, Mr. Croaker. Thank you for your trouble," Dumbledore said with a nod.
Summoning Fawkes, Dumbledore departed the Ministry with Avada. In a flash of fire, Avada found himself standing on a bustling street filled with witches and wizards in robes of every color, all staring at him and Dumbledore in astonishment.
"Next," Dumbledore said with a smile after greeting the onlookers, "it's time to choose a wand for you."
Avada's heart surged. Though he could already cast several self-developed spells without a wand, who could possibly refuse one of their very own?
Guided by Dumbledore, he soon stopped before a small, shabby shop. Suppressing his excitement, Avada looked up at the slightly peeling gilded sign:
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
(End of Chapter)