Afternoon, London—a certain neighborhood.
"Albus, Lockhart's enrollment plan this time is absolutely outrageous," McGonagall exclaimed, her voice sharp with frustration.
"The number of young wizards we typically recruit each semester is only about a hundred, at most. Yet he's planning to recruit thousands!"
"Can you imagine how we'd manage such numbers? How many professors would we need to teach them? How many staff members would it take to keep things running smoothly? Hogwarts has barely over a thousand students in total, and even that requires meticulous coordination."
Golden sunlight filtered through the trees lining the cobblestone street, casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Dumbledore strolled leisurely forward, his white wizard robes catching the light like spun silver. Beside him, McGonagall kept pace, her dark green robes rustling softly as she gestured animatedly.
"Lockhart has truly lost all sense of proportion! Recruiting students on such a massive scale? Does he even comprehend the logistical nightmare he's inviting?" she continued.
"It's not just about numbers—what about the process? How does he intend to bring these students to Kamar-Taj? Are there even enough resources to handle such an influx? The mind boggles!"
She huffed, her sharp eyes narrowing. "When we recruit Muggle-born students, we ensure everything is handled with care. A professor personally visits each family, explains the situation, and helps them navigate Gringotts, acquire wizarding robes, exchange Muggle currency for Galleons, and purchase their school supplies. Even with all that, each professor is typically assigned no more than two or three students at most."
McGonagall shook her head in exasperation. "Even if Lockhart doesn't expect professors to handle every step, he would still need hundreds of trained wizards just to coordinate this effort. Does Kamar-Taj even have that many? And if they do, will they have time for anything else besides ferrying students back and forth?"
Dumbledore listened patiently, a soft smile playing on his lips. The twinkle in his blue eyes betrayed no hint of alarm. He let McGonagall vent her frustrations uninterrupted, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to her growing agitation. When she finally paused to catch her breath, he said gently, "Patience, Minerva. Today, we will see for ourselves how Kamar-Taj handles their recruitment."
"Lockhart told me their methods are quite innovative—unconventional, even. I asked him for details, but he insisted on keeping it a surprise. He said we would understand once we saw it firsthand."
McGonagall sighed, rubbing her temples. "Innovative or not, I can't help but feel skeptical, Albus. But I suppose we'll find out soon enough."
"Indeed, we will," Dumbledore said with a serene nod.
"Where exactly are we going?" she asked, curiosity tugging at her despite her reservations.
"Lockhart said we'd find clues if we simply took a walk through London," Dumbledore replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "So that's exactly what we're doing—taking a leisurely stroll and keeping our eyes open."
As they meandered through the bustling streets, McGonagall's sharp gaze caught something unusual. She tugged on Dumbledore's sleeve and pointed toward a massive LED screen atop a tall building.
"Albus, surely that isn't part of Lockhart's recruitment method!"
On the screen, bold letters and intricate patterns swirled together in a mesmerizing display. The message read:
Kamar-Taj – Admissions Now Open!
McGonagall's jaw dropped. "Lockhart's gone completely mad! Does he not realize this could violate the International Statute of Secrecy? Broadcasting this so openly—what is he thinking?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Look closer, Minerva. Those patterns aren't just ordinary designs."
Squinting at the screen, McGonagall leaned forward, her expression shifting from outrage to curiosity. "There's a blend of runes and Confundus Charms... and something else. Is that a Dreamwalking spell?"
"Indeed," Dumbledore confirmed with a nod.
As they continued their walk, similar advertisements appeared everywhere: on billboards, bus advertisements, and even the covers of bestselling books. The name "Kamar-Taj" seemed to dominate London's landscape.
McGonagall frowned deeply. "This is absurd! How has no one in the Ministry noticed this?"
Dumbledore's voice was calm and measured. "It's quite clever, really. The enchantments ensure that ordinary Muggles see nothing more than a generic company advertisement. Wizards, however, see the true message. And those with latent magical abilities or Squib heritage might sense something... intriguing. It's a natural filtering mechanism."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Clever, yes, but it feels far too bold. This is Lockhart we're talking about—he thrives on grand gestures."
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "That he does. But one cannot deny his ingenuity."
Suddenly, Dumbledore's expression shifted. He stopped mid-step, his gaze sharpening as he turned his head slightly. "Minerva, follow me," he said, his voice low.
Without another word, he grasped her shoulder, and the two of them Disapparated with a soft pop.
They reappeared in a secluded alleyway near the Ministry of Magic, where Cornelius Fudge and Auror Director Rufus Scrimgeour stood locked in conversation.
"Minister Fudge, this mass use of spells in the Muggle world is reckless," Scrimgeour said sternly. "It may have unintended consequences, and I strongly recommend imposing restrictions."
Fudge waved him off dismissively. "Oh, don't be so dour, Scrimgeour. Lockhart assured me this is a one-time thing. Besides, he's been incredibly generous to the Auror Office. Those magical items he donated were invaluable."
Scrimgeour scowled but said nothing further, clearly dissatisfied.
Just then, spatial energy rippled nearby. Scrimgeour's wand was in his hand instantly as he turned toward the disturbance, his sharp instincts kicking in.
Fudge, oblivious, continued rambling. "Really, Lockhart is much more cooperative than Dumbledore ever was—"
"Minister, look," Scrimgeour interrupted, nodding toward the source of the magical fluctuation.
Fudge turned, his face lighting up when he saw Dumbledore approaching. "Ah, Headmaster Dumbledore! What a pleasant surprise."
Dumbledore greeted him politely, exchanging pleasantries while keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.
Suddenly, a portal shimmered into existence nearby. From its glowing center, a figure emerged: Peggy Carter, wearing Kamar-Taj's signature blue robes.
"Minister Fudge, Headmaster Dumbledore," she said with a warm smile.
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