The gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office stepped aside at McGonagall's password, revealing the spiral staircase beyond. Alisa ascended slowly, her mind still reeling from her earlier discovery.
A beacon. I'm a fucking beacon.
The office door stood ajar. Inside, she could hear the soft trill of a bird and the gentle tick of the many silver instruments scattered throughout the room.
"Come in, Miss Alisa," Dumbledore's voice called out warmly. "Thank you, Minerva. That will be all."
McGonagall nodded and departed, leaving Alisa alone with the Headmaster.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his half-moon spectacles catching the afternoon light.
He looked exactly as the pictures portrayed him—ancient, serene, and utterly unflappable. But there was something in his eyes as he studied her, a sharpness that made Alisa's instincts prickle.
"Please, sit," he said, gesturing to a comfortable chair. "Lemon drop?"
"No, thank you." Alisa remained standing. "You wanted to see me?"
"Indeed." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I wished to discuss the recent demon attacks, your investigation, and..." He paused, his blue eyes seeming to look through her rather than at her. "...other matters."
The air in the room felt suddenly heavier.
Alisa had almost instinctively called the magic surrounding her, but managed to stop herself. "What other matters?"
"Nothing to cause alarm, I assure you," Dumbledore said and smiled gently, as if catching her slight loss of control. "Though I must confess, it has been many a long time since I last encountered one of us persons."
Alisa froze.
The Seven.
The title given to the seven strongest magical beings on Earth at any given time. Not the most skilled, not the most knowledgeable—raw magical power alone determined membership in that exclusive group.
Alisa had known she was one of them since she was fifteen.
She had felt the shift when one of her predecessors died and the mantle passed to her like a weight settling on her shoulders. She had guessed that she'd have taken the place either way, once her magical core reached its majority, which it hadn't yet.
Needless to say, she'd never spoken of it and never acknowledged it publicly.
Being one of the Seven put you in the limelight and made you a target.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Alisa said carefully.
"Come now." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but there was steel beneath the kindness. "We both know that's not true. I have been one of the Seven for longer than you've been alive, Miss Alisa. I recognise the resonance. The depth of power that cannot be hidden, no matter how carefully one might try."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Alisa exhaled and sat down. "How long have you known?"
"Since the moment you arrived at Hogwarts." Dumbledore conjured a pot of tea and two cups with an idle gesture. "Your aura is... distinctive. Particularly given the curse affecting you."
Alisa's jaw tightened. "So you know about that too."
"I was informed that you had been physically disfigured by a curse, yes. The specifics were not shared with me, and I was expressly told not to inquire further." He poured tea with steady hands. "I have respected that request, and will continue to do so."
"Why?" The question came out harsher than Alisa intended. "Why not demand answers? You're the Headmaster. The oldest of us. You have students to protect."
"Because you are here protecting those same students," Dumbledore said simply. "Because you have fought demons with courage and skill. Because whatever curse afflicts you has not made you a threat to innocents." He set down the teapot. "And because, Miss Alisa, we of the Seven understand better than most the burdens that come with great power."
Something in Alisa's chest loosened.
"I won't pretend to know your struggles," Dumbledore continued quietly. "But I will offer what help I can, within the bounds of your privacy. You need only ask."
"Why?" Alisa asked again, softer this time. "You don't know me. Don't owe me anything."
"No," Dumbledore said with a smile. "But I know what it is to carry a burden in silence. To fear that your nature might endanger those you seek to protect. And I know that isolation makes all burdens heavier."
Alisa stared at him, feeling suddenly, absurdly grateful.
"The recent demons here," she said, redirecting to safer ground. "My investigation found that they're connected. Deliberately summoned, possibly targeting me specifically."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I suspected as much. The pattern was too consistent to be a random manifestation. Also, it's not only near Hogwarts that the demon activity has been elevated, but in the whole of Britain as well. Not by much, mind you, but I think this will change."
Alisa looked downcast.
"I just found out that my curse makes me visible to the infernal realm," she said, shaking her head. "The demon who cursed me must have given his higher-ups the magical signature of the curse."
"A dangerous game," Dumbledore said slowly. "Both for you and for whoever is playing it. Demons are not easily controlled, even by their leaders, much less by summoners."
"I don't know what to do," Alisa said and slumped.
"Hm." Dumbledore was silent for a moment, thinking. "I have some resources that may prove useful—texts on demon summoning, contacts in the Ministry who specialise in infernal investigations. I will make them available to you."
"Thank you," she said immediately.
"However," Dumbledore continued, his tone growing more serious, "I must ask something of you in return."
Alisa tensed. "What?"
"Discretion." Dumbledore's gaze was steady. "Whatever the nature of your curse, however it affects you—I trust you to handle it responsibly. But students talk. Rumours spread. And in an institution full of adolescents, even the most innocent interactions can be embellished and misunderstood."
Heat crept up Alisa's neck.
Does he know about Harry? About Tonks?
"I'm always discreet," she said carefully.
"I'm certain you are." Dumbledore's expression was unreadable. "Nevertheless, I felt it prudent to mention. You are in a position of authority here, however temporary. And with that comes certain... expectations."
It wasn't quite an accusation. But it was definitely a warning.
"I understand," Alisa said, her voice flat.
"Good." Dumbledore's demeanour softened again.
"In the meantime," he continued, "I believe it would be wise to increase security measures. Not just the wards, but active patrols. I'm assigning additional staff to monitor the grounds at night."
"And the students?" Alisa asked. "Some of them—Harry Potter and his friends, particularly—they're already involved. They were there in Hogsmeade. They've seen the second demon."
"Mr Potter has an unfortunate talent for finding himself in dangerous situations," Dumbledore said with a hint of fondness. "And Miss Granger's mind could prove valuable to your investigation. However..." He fixed Alisa with a penetrating look. "They are still students. I trust you will remember that."
The warning was clearer this time.