He Couldn't Be That Bad? // Sebastian Sallow and You (spicy)

38. Weasley's Office

Stepping out of the floo flame and its all of three steps before I walk into Professor Weasley's office. A full body shiver racks down my spine and I realize just how cold I was outside.

Even though the door is open I still knock to announce my entry. "Hello Professor, hello Deek." I say looking across the room for them. Professor Weasley is standing at her desk, talking to someone I don't know.

The warm glow emanating from the fireplace behind her is like a beacon after standing in the cold. I waste no time walking straight towards it.

Deek is preparing a tea service but he seems distracted. I wonder if he'd heard about all the freed elves today. Or if he and Cog have already talked. But when Weasley sees me her face lights up to a smile. "Ahh yes, just in the nick of time."

"That's usually how it goes for me." I jest and walk over to the desk, hand stretched out to greet the stranger.

He's not particularly good looking, with his wide flat nose and lack of chin, but he looks meticulously well kept. And his clothes remind me of Damon's. Expensive and clean. He smiles grandly as I approach, but when he takes my hand in his, I almost lurch with a startle. Inside the glove his hand feels almost skeletal. I feel the bones wrap around my hand to shake it properly, but as politely and quickly as I can, I retract from his touch.

Unphased by this the man says. "Alphard Pollux. Pleasure to finally meet the Savior of Hogwarts."

It takes a lot of self control not to roll my eyes. And I'll be sure to mark the fact that I didn't as a personal triumph. I smile politely and say. "Pleased to meet you. –Professor," I turn to her and say, "may I ask what this is regarding, and why it's so urgent?"

Weasley gestures with her hand to the tea set before the pair of couches that wait by the fireplace. Scurrying forward I gladly claim the place nearest the fireplace and we all sit down. I take one sip of the tea and decide it's not for me, but do take advantage of the hot cup and hold it in both hands to keep warm.

"My dear." Professor Weasley's tone is hospitable yet professional. "Alphard is here to talk to you about becoming an Auror. Your testing is all up to standard, and your skills are obviously impressive–"

Alphard interjects with a grand smile. "Now, in the Ministry there are many introductory positions available. But given your skill set and innate talents, the minister is offering you special circumstances."

Weasley looks to me with caring warmth. "Only if you feel ready, dear. I know fifth year was quite taxing. Your gifts do not have an expiration date, and you shouldn't make any decision lightly." I return the smile but it immediately fades with the next words out of Alphard's mouth.

"The detection and collection of Ancient Magic is very much a priority of the Ministry."

Detection I could understand but– "Collection?" I inquire.

He smiles, not skipping a beat. But now his tone is almost patronizing. "Yes, Ranrock wasn't the only enemy," he tiffs like he's the smartest man in the room. "There are numerous dark forces, growing stronger by the day."

I faced down more poachers and loyalists and trolls to count, and his pompous man thinks he can stroll in here and explain to me how the dark forces operate. Maybe it's the piling up stress-debt of the day, but I simply do not have energy for this conversation. At least not the energy to remain civil. "I know first hand that Ranrock wasn't the only player in the dark forces, Mr. Pollux." I say his name with my own flare of condescension.

"Ancient Magic could stop wars before they even start. And with that–" He continues to blather on, but I'm stuck thinking about the implications of what the Ministry actually wants. The Ministry doesn't want me for my skills. Well, one skill. My ability to detect Ancient Magic. And they only want it so far as to use it as a weapon. Preemptive action against enemies of the ministry. Everything in my gut told me no.