Magic gathered in the bark for years gives the tree power to defend the sacred groove. The longer the tree lives, the stronger it gets. Thus is the nature of wild magic. One should put controls in place, lest the tree or any alchemical creature become the destroyer of the ones it is supposed to protect.
If you wish to protect your home from small dangers, collect the blood, sweat, and tears of your family members~
A faint knocking sound at the door roused Headmaster Dumbledore from the depth of the book.
"You may enter."
Headmaster closed the book gently and sat a bit more comfortably on his chair. Old age was catching on, making his back ache just after a few hours. Oh, how he missed those days where he could sit for a day without moving if he got a particularly interesting book.
"Albus, I have received 7 letters of applications for the post of professor of History of Magic. I found 3 of them not qualified for this position, their age and academic rigor being unsuitable for a professor. If you wish to interview them regardless, their letters are the last three." Saying so, Professor McGonagall put a stack of letters in front of Headmaster.
"Thank you, Minerva. Would you care for a cup of tea?"
"Of course, thank you. It'd be best if you could review these letters while I have some tea. We should finish interviews as fast as possible so that the new professor will have enough time to make plans."
Dumbledore nodded in reply and took the topmost letter. A house-elf sent a steaming cup of tea with a pop while he checked the letters one by one.
Montague, Fenwick, Grimshaw - these old geezers are just eyeing the books in our library. Even Binns would be a better teacher. Selwynn, Rowle must have been tipped off by Lucius. Reginald Whitecombe? He must have finished his research in China then. A bit young for a professor, but we could give him a chance.
When he reached the last letter, Dumbledore unconsciously straightened his back, the leisurely smile gone from his lips.
Sylvian Scamander,
Scamander Estate,
Dorset, England
June 14, 1991
Dear Professor McGonagall,
I am writing this letter in hopes of getting a post as Professor of History of Magic at Hogwarts.
You cannot imagine how surprised I was when I saw a job announcement for the position for this particular subject. Many believed Professor Binns would be the last Professor of History. Who would have thought we would be his last graduates?
Now, you might find me too young for the job. I understand your concerns. After all, an 18-year-old professor is unheard of in the long history of our prestigious institution. But I must stress this point: there's always a first time before precedent. Much like Hogwarts was the first Magical school, I would be honored to be the youngest professor to step into its grand halls.
I believe you have no doubt when it comes to my academic ability when it comes to the subject in question. I included the letter of recommendation from the president of Magical History Academy for further proof of my academic rigor.
I would be grateful for your consideration and am happy to correspond further via owl at your convenience.
Yours sincerely,
Sylvian Scamander
A picture sprang to Dumbledore's mind: a boy with a fair complexion, shoulder-length dark wavy hair, and heavy, contemplative hazel eyes that seemed to hold more thought than his years would allow.
"You don't approve of Mr. Scamander, Minerva?"
"He's too young, Albus! Just out of school and wants to come back as a professor? I brought his letter to humor you. I'll write a reply and tell him~"
"There, there, Minerva. Do not get worked up. We should at least give him a chance. Let's schedule his interview first for tomorrow afternoon, I'll talk to him."
"You can't be serious, Dumbledore. The boy is barely 18."
"I don't see why that would be a problem, dear. Severus was just 20 when he started teaching as well. And I did not say I'll employ him for sure."
After complaining for a while, Professor McGonagall left Headmaster alone.
Dumbledore took the letter once again, the scrawled handwriting overlapping with the neat and tidy one from ages ago.
Years ago he used to receive letters from Newt about his orphaned grandson. He was looking forward to seeing another awkward but kind-hearted Scamander become part of Hogwarts. What he got instead was another Slytherin eerily similar to Tom Riddle.
Orphans from birth, polite to everyone, never flustered, good at everything, unmatched charisma, founding their own secret circle. Now this application for a job at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore even suspected something had happened to the boy, thus discreetly asked Newt if he noticed any change in his personality when the boy was back home for holidays. His old friend said there was no change; he was also surprised at first when Sylvian was sent to Slytherin, but Tina said the boy was kind yet ambitious. And how she went on and on about discriminatory Britain and why they should have sent him to Ilvermony.
Over the years, Dumbledore came to see what Tina meant by kind and ambitious . Sylvian had a strange ability to befriend people of all paths of life. He had friends from all four houses: pureblood, half-blood, muggleborn; smart and not-so-smart; athletic, the ones who couldn't even get the broom in air; rich and poor. Some of his friends outright hated each other, yet they could remain friends with him. Thus Dumbledore wasn't too surprised when Sylvian came with an application to operate a club, "Arcane Research Club".
These things were actually quite good in themselves. Dumbledore could be sure the boy wouldn't start a new genocide against any particular magical group.
Emphasis on magical.
Another person Sylvian reminded him of was his past friend, Grindelwald. The boy didn't show any aversion to muggles, and didn't reveal any political bias. But knowing which side Dumbledore would be on meant he might keep his alignment a secret for a few more years. Dumbledore being old wasn't a secret, Sylvian could afford to wait a while.
This was what scared him the most. War that was stopped at the cost of many lives could erupt because of this person. Yet Dumbledore was powerless. The boy had done nothing wrong.
Tom Riddle did nothing wrong as well.
A disturbing thought surfaces in his mind again. Headmaster shook his head slightly, as if refuting the unyielding voice of his conscience.
_______________
"Jelly babies."
Gargoyle sprang aside, revealing a spiral staircase. Sylvian Scamander took a step forward to stand on the stairs. It carried him upward slowly. There stood an ornate door with a bronze knocker shaped like a hog. He knocked twice gently. An aged, yet spirited voice answered from inside, "Enter."
Entering the room felt like moving through a portal. Outside was cold, intimidating stone walls swallowing every tiny sound, thus amplifying one's heartbeat. Inside was warm and cozy, delicate silver devices whirred, puffed smoke, and dropped liquid in the shelves, making the room feel a little noisy, yet oddly peaceful. Old headmasters and headmistresses, basked in the warm glove of summer sun, were fast-asleep in their portraits. Further inside was a magnificent fiery phoenix on a golden perch.
Behind the desk clustered with books and scrolls of parchment sat an old grandfatherly man with long silver hair and equally long silver beard. His lilac colored robes would be attention grabbing, if not for the electric blue eyes peering behind half-moon spectacles.
"Good day to you, Professor Dumbledore. I must say, your office seems a bit more clustered and a bit more mystical than the last time."
"Good day to you as well, Sylvian." He stood up to offer a handshake, then they both sat down.
"One leaves this world empty-handed, yet we still wish to leave a few things to the next generation. Now, what would you like for a drink?"
"A glass of juice would be just right for this weather. As long as it's not pumpkin juice."
"It's like yesterday that you came to Hogwarts and took your first sip of pumpkin juice. Severus remarked people had tamer reaction when drinking Polyjuice Potion." Professor chuckled lightly and took a sip from tea freshly prepared by the kitchen.
"I'm not sure if I should feel honored for having the attention of both Headmaster and the Head of my House from the first day or embarrassed. That aside, password to your office is one of my favorite snacks, Professor. I wonder if you have some at hand. They pair rather nicely with juice."
Professor took a small bowl of jelly babies from his desk drawer and motioned for him to help himself.
"How are Newt and Tina doing?"
"They are doing well, Professor. Thank you for asking. Grandpa invited you over for a dinner this weekend, if you are free."
"I will try to sneak away that day. Minerva is keeping a close eye on me, you see." Headmaster winked at him, popping a jelly in his mouth.
"It's delightful to have you here. Though your letter of application caught me off guard.
You seem to have more interest in researching magic rather than teaching. Department of Mysteries would have been an excellent choice for you. If you want, I can write a letter of recommendation for you.
They are always looking forward to employing talented scholars like you."
"I'm flattered, Professor. But Hogwarts is better fit for me even for research. I dare say no other institution in the world can compare to the breadth and depth of the Hogwarts library.
Besides, there's another reason I want to be a teacher." Sylvian paused to collect his thoughts.
"Wizarding World is falling behind."
Earlier jovial mood vanished from Dumbledore. He slouched on his seat and let out a weary sigh, as if his worst anticipation came to be.
"What do you think of the muggles, Sylvian?"
Scamander deliberated a bit.
"If you are asking whether I hate them, then no. I don't have any personal vendetta against them. But they are moving too fast. The development of their technology in the past hundred years has moved their civilization more than the development in the last millenia.
If they keep moving at this speed, the collapse of the Statute of Secrecy is imminent. We will either become their tools or their enemy.
This has nothing to do with my personal feelings, Professor. History is far more bloodier. When humans face the unknown, they are at first curious. But when they sense slightest bit of danger to their fragile ego, they start a war, genocide, slavery. Until the enemy is vanquished and trampled under their feet, they won't stop."
"I knew another person who had same ideals, Sylvian. Do you know what happened to him?"
"I do. He's rotting in the prison he built himself."
Dumbledore shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. They sat quietly for a while. Sylvian broke the silence.
"I do not wish or advocate for war, Professor."
"Is that so? I don't see any other way from your words, my boy."
"Have you heard of Exodus?"
Dumbledore opened his eyes, and peered over his spectacles.
Sylvian continued, "There is a story in Bible, that's the religious book of many muggles. There was a tribe, Israelites, in Egypt. They were slaves of the Egyptian people, abused and oppressed for many years. God sent a prophet called Moses to lead them away to other lands and flee from oppression. To my knowledge, that was called Exodus."
"You mean to say we should run away from muggles? To where? They live everywhere on this planet, Sylvian."
"You said it yourself, Professor."
Dumbledore's eyes glinted with interest.
"If we can find a way to survive in outer space or another planet, we can open a portal and move most people away. Of course, some personnel will stay here to contact the future muggleborns."
"Not everyone will be supportive of this idea. Some stubbornly cling to their homes and traditions. But we can save the majority without much conflict. Your plan has some merit, Sylvian.
What I don't understand is why are you here?"
"For the same reason you won't propose this plan in the International Confederation of Wizards."
"Why are you so sure I won't do that?"
"There's no support base. Britain is steeped in internal turmoil. One visionary isn't enough to move the whole world towards one purpose. If you raise the issue in ICW meeting, they'll probably call you madman or propose to start a World War to cull the muggles.
I know my own limits. Seeing the way forward doesn't mean I can lead people to smash all obstacles till we reach the destination.
I plan to raise awareness in younger generation. They should clean up the mess left by the Dark Lord and unite Britain. When we have some initial preparation to move away, we can slowly start contacting other countries as well.
This is my rough plan. There are many complications, of course. But we can discuss it further in the future.
To take the first step, I should get this job. If you are worried about my skills, I can work in probation for some time. What do you think Professor?"
Headmaster flashed his signature smile at him.
"You have convinced me, my boy. Let Minerva know about probation. Let's make it till Christmas break. Also tell her I received urgent letter from Ministry and won't be back today."
Sylvian gave a knowing smile and stood up to shake his hand.
"Until we meet later, Headmaster."
"Until we meet later, Professor Scamander."