Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0611 The Form

0611 The Form

Bang!

The office door slammed shut with a resounding crash causing the glass panes in the windows to rattle in their frames.

Fleur Delacour had just stormed out of the room with a livid face in fury and the charged atmosphere she left behind was thick with tension.

Bryan sat motionless behind his desk; his facial features arranged into a carefully blank mask that showed not a single flicker of emotion. To the casual observer, he appeared as cold and emotionless as a marble statue, unmoved by the emotional scene that had just unfolded before him. 

But beneath that facade of detached aloofness, there was a hint of remorse pricking at Bryan's heart. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he knew deep down that the heartless, almost mocking way he had spurned Fleur's affections and driven the poor girl away was extremely unkind.

It took a truly stone-hearted bastard to witness the devastation on that lovely face and feel nothing.

And yet...for all that of his treatment of Fleur that left a distinctly bitter aftertaste in his mouth, Bryan couldn't quite bring himself to regret his actions. In a way, he was saving Fleur from even greater heartbreak down the road by nipping this rash infatuation in the bud now. Surely it was better for her to endure this sharp, fleeting pain than the slow, lingering torment of false hope?

At least, that was the comforting lie Bryan told himself as he fought to ignore the faint stab of guilt irritating him. If he repeated it often enough, perhaps he could even make himself believe it.

Moody was also silent after Fleur's exit. Unlike Fleur whose fragile hold on her emotions had been shattered by Bryan's brutal rejection, He was able to view the situation with a much cooler head. 

Surveying the scene from the position on the sidelines, he was able to read between the lines of the sordid little drama that had just played out and discern Bryan's true intentions behind his actions.

Looking at Bryan, whose expression was slightly gloomy, Moody's eyes in both eye sockets twitched rapidly a few times. He hesitated for a while and said in a low voice, "There was no need for that little display, was there, Watson?"

Moody, who had attracted Watson's gaze, had a slightly tense face.

"The girl is nothing more than a starstruck young witch nursing her first case of puppy love. Surely you can't have failed to notice the group of silly young witches who follow you around with stars in their eyes, pursuing you with chocolates and smiling compliments?

At that age, it's only natural for their naive little hearts to be sent aflutter by closeness to a good-looking wizard of obvious talent and power. This girl is hardly an outlier. In fact, I'd wager my good eye that you'd be hard-pressed to find a red-blooded witch in this castle who isn't half infatuated with you, Watson!"

Bryan shook his head slightly. Fleur was actually quite different from those other young witches, and he knew it. He could feel that the emotions Fleur had placed in him were more intense and sincere, not just the admiration and instinctive favor that adolescent girls had for handsome and powerful men.

And therein lay the rub. Any other wizard might have been flattered by the French beauty's devotion, thrilled to discover that he had the power to make her lose her head over him. But to Bryan, the intensity of Fleur's passion was like a millstone around his neck like an unwanted burden he had neither the time nor the feeling to shoulder.

The uncomfortable truth was, Bryan had spent the first seventeen years of his life keeping the world at arm's length, maintaining a careful layer of detachment in order to shield himself from the inevitable pain and disappointment of human connections. His tendency to avoid any entanglements of a deep personal nature was so deeply entrenched it was almost pathological at this point.

This tendency came not only from the extraordinary circumstances surrounding his rebirth into this world but also from the burdensome knowledge of the Four Founders' plans, Merlin's cryptic revelations, and the looming threats posed by enemies like the dark witch that attacked him and Cliodna, who stood before him now, cloaked in the disguise of Moody.

Love, with all its intoxicating promises, was a luxury he could not afford. It was a path best left untrodden, for the sake of both his own well-being and Fleur's.

"Let's not talk about this, tell me about your matter Professor Moody," Bryan sighed slightly suppressing his numerous emotions. "You seem to have encountered some difficulty, and it seems very urgent."

'You're only just now realizing that?' The thought flashed across Cliodna's mind as a spark of resentment ignited in her tough heart upon hearing Bryan's words.

"Ah, it nearly slipped my mind!" Cliodna, maintaining her disguise as Moody, growled gruffly. With a swift motion, she took out a folded application form from the depths of her pocket. Unfurling the document, she slammed it down on the desk before Bryan. "I've come to you for this salary advance application, Watson. If you have no objections, I would greatly appreciate your signature."

Bryan's eyes flicked to the form; his eyebrows arched slightly as a flicker of puzzlement appeared across his face.

"Professor Moody, I couldn't help but notice that Minerva's signature is already on this application. According to the standard procedure you only need to obtain Headmaster Dumbledore's approval, then submit the signed document to Minerva for filing. Upon completion of these steps, you would be able to collect the remaining portion of your salary directly from her. It doesn't seem to need to go through me?"

"Therein lies the crux of the issue, Watson!" Moody exclaimed, his irritation palpable as he forcefully tapped his cane against the floor, the rhythm showing his rising impatience. "I have no desire to trouble Albus with such a trivial matter. However, Minerva has made it clear that in the absence of the headmaster's signature, your signature becomes necessary. Only then can the application be presented to the school board for approval. The level of leniency shown by this board is truly remarkable. During my tenure at the ministry, if I chose to give someone a bonus, neither Amelia nor the Minister of Magic possessed the authority to interfere with my decision!"

Bryan nodded his head, signaling his understanding of the situation. Yet, rather than reaching for a quill to give his signature, he remained motionless, his gaze fixed intently upon the application form that lay before him on the table.

A contemplative silence descended upon the room as he appeared to be lost in thought.

Gulp, gulp-- The sound of liquid splashing against glass pierced the stillness as Moody uncorked the flask he always carried, taking two hearty swigs of the brew within.

A sigh of satisfaction escaped his lips as the fiery liquid coursed down his throat, providing a momentary relief from the increasing tension. He waited patiently, making no attempt to hurry Bryan's ponderings.

"What's going on?" Bryan's voice was low as he interlaced his fingers, forming a steeple upon which he rested his chin. His probing gaze bore into Moody's eyes,

"Please don't misunderstand my intentions, Professor Moody. I have no desire to pry into your personal affairs. However, given that you are requesting my signature on an application form that falls outside my usual requirements, I think I should have the right to have a comprehensive understanding of the circumstances that have led us to this point."

"Absolutely, Watson! You are entirely justified in your inquiry," Moody agreed without hesitation. He returned the now-corked flask to his pocket, his movements slightly unsteady, perhaps a consequence of his hasty drinking.

A fit of violent coughing came over him, leaving him momentarily breathless before he managed to compose himself enough to continue. "I've already said it once to Minerva, and I don't mind saying it again!"

With a heavy, resounding thud, Moody brought his wooden leg crashing down upon the floor and his ire rose with each word he spoke.

"Some of my former subordinates and old friends, much like myself, have dedicated most of their lives in combating the dark wizards and upholding the law. They have served the Ministry of Magic for the majority of their years, yet look at the terrible manner in which the Ministry repays their loyalty and sacrifice when age and sickness render them incapable of wielding a wand.

Each of them bears the scars of countless battles with their bodies ravaged by the toll of their services. Some of my friends are reliant upon sleeping potions, consumed daily, to suppress the sinister effects of dark magic upon their minds. Some need to stay in St Mungo's for a period of time every month to stay alive. Surely you can understand, Watson, that the meager pensions allotted to them are very inadequate to cover the costs of their ongoing treatments. And yet, the Ministry of Magic is unwilling to allocate the necessary funds to alleviate their suffering!"

Moody's voice rose to a crescendo, his indignation boiling over into a full-throated roar. "Umbridge, that insufferable harpy, holds the keys to the Ministry's coffers. She is the most annoying woman i have ever met in my life. I have written her countless letters about this but haven't received a single reply. I guess those letters of mine must have been thrown into the fireplace by her! But what about my poor old friends? In order to fight the Dark Wizards, some of them don't even have family. I have to help them!"

Looking at Watson, who was listening very seriously, Moody continued to shout, "My pension, except for buying alcohol, is mostly spent on this. To be honest, it's completely a drop in the bucket. Oh, I don't want to say that part of the reason I agreed to Albus's request to be a professor is because of this, but that's the reality."

Bryan softly uttered an "I see" and nodded slightly.

Outside, the sunlight was still bright. The howling north wind kicked up the snow on the ground and rooftops, and the dancing snowflakes dyed the earth white like fog.

After hearing his explanation, Watson fell into silence, neither refusing nor nodding in agreement. He just stared at the application form on the table, the light flashing in his purple eyes from time to time. As time went on, Moody's uneasiness grew more intense. He wasn't sure if Watson had seen through something, after all, Watson was very likely to have already--

"All right, no problem."

An extraordinary pressure silently lingered around the silent Watson. Moody, shrouded by this pressure, involuntarily held his breath. Just before he nearly suffocated himself, Watson finally agreed.

Bryan quickly signed his name on the paper and then pushed the application form back in front of Professor Moody.

"On behalf of my old friends, I extend my deepest gratitude, Watson!" Moody exhaled heavily, the tension draining from his body as he rose to his feet. Snatching up the signed form, he turned back preparing to take his leave.

"A moment, Professor Moody."

But before Moody could take a few steps, the sudden call from Watson behind him made his heart tighten. He involuntarily grasped the application form tightly, turned around and looked back. Then, a look of astonishment froze on his face.

Bryan took out an empty money bag, then took out his own money bag and opened it. In the reflection of the white sunlight, those glittering Galleons emitted a dazzling golden glow and a wonderful, pleasant tinkling sound.

The gold Galleons flowed into the brand-new money bag like a waterfall. Moody found that Bryan's expression gradually distorted into what looked like a pained expression.

Finally, after about three or four thousand gold coins had fallen, Bryan Watson grabbed his own money bag and then stuffed it back into his bosom.

Although he was mentally prepared, when Bryan Watson handed over the new money bag on the table, the frozen astonishment on Moody's face still did not thaw. The two eyes in his eye sockets, whether the real one or the fake one, seemed to be malfunctioning and remained motionless. He didn't look at the gold galleons, but stared at Watson's face.

"Take it, Professor Moody, No other meaning. Consider this a token of my appreciation for the sacrifices your old friends have made." Bryan smiled and said softly. "We cannot allow our heroes to suffer in silence, their tears and blood spilled in the name of a cause that has long since forgotten them, can we, Professor Moody?"

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