The Final Preparations

With their curiosity and spirits crushed, the trio left Hagrid's hut with their heads hung low. George was annoyed at their attitudes as he left with them. They would never know what he'd spared them from. The punishment in the Dark Forest, the professor's challenges, and facing Voldemort: none of it would happen now. George thought they would at least be relieved to know everything was in hand. He guessed he'd never fully understand immature children with illusions of grandeur. Wasn't the normal Hogwarts experience enough?

Hagrid had been in a better state of mind. He was amazed by George's trunk and agreed to keep the dragon inside once it had grown too big. That meant George had a new draconic friend to bring back with him at the end of the year. It wasn't a requirement in his patron's plan, but since he'd be returning to life in a cell, the company from his fellow species would be nice. Who knows? Norberta might start speaking in tongues when she grows up. George did want to test if he could understand the draconic language if there was one.

As good as gaining a new pet may be, George had more important reasons for letting Hagrid overhear his talk with the trio. In a nutshell, the half-giant would definitely parrot George's words back to Dumbledore. That meant Dumbledore would know what George was getting involved in. If he is sensible, the old man should stay out of the way when the time comes. George wouldn't be so confident if it was his call, but his patron had assured him it would work.

The next day, unusual rumours were spreading around the Slytherin table. Apparently, Draco had gone missing. He hadn't been in his dorm room and his goons didn't remember seeing him last night. Before the school could start a manhunt, Draco turned up out of the blue half an hour into breakfast. He came running into the Great Hall covered in mud and rotting leaves. Judging by his messy hair and teary eyes, the boy was in a lot of distress. Snape immediately took Draco to the hospital ward.

It took a few days for Draco's account of his disappearance to circulate around the castle. According to Draco, he'd been kidnapped and left to die in the Dark Forest. He wasn't completely wrong. George had climbed a large tree with Draco on his back and tied him to a branch with loose knots. To be fair, it was a relatively safe part of the forest. The worst George had seen in there was a couple of angry fairies and a few big-ish spiders. However, the constant howling and centaur hunting packs would have probably kept most awake.

George personally liked the forest's ambience, but he full-well knew the effect it would have on a normal child. Since Draco had no idea who had kidnapped him, except for some unfounded conjecture directed at the trio, no one got into trouble. Draco did seem to learn his lesson. He hardly ever left his friend group and flinched at the slightest noise. Hopefully, he would be deterred from bullying anyone, at least until the end of the school year.

Roughly a month was left before George would have to get the Philosopher's stone. It was drawing closer like an exam. He felt extremely nervous like the older students around him. It's funny on reflection. Death… torture? Not fun, but not worth worrying about. Disappointing his patron… failing the mission. Now that was a thought George didn't even want to consider. Even though he was following his patron's steps to the letter, he still felt like there was more he could be doing.

The final few weeks felt like they were going in slow motion. Since the exams were coming up, the herb and exercise clubs were put on hold. With less to distract him, George couldn't help but wonder if there was more he could be doing. A second spent doing nothing was a second wasted. Surely there was something he could do to increase the odds of the mission being successful? But, was it even possible to improve what his patron had already laid out?

While meditating in Myrtle's empty bathroom, George finally decided to act. His patron hadn't accounted for the Christmas presents he'd received in the plan. That was where he could start. George pulled out his computer and turned it upside down. After undoing a few screws, he pulled out the new battery powering it. There were some visual differences from the old one in the boom box, but it generally looked and functioned the same as the older version.

Most of the improvements could be felt in the battery's enchantments. They were more stable and refined, but the power output was less. Dominic had given George a brief overview of Sheena's work over the past few months. Her main goal was to develop a magical battery that could work on any muggle device. Her previous models only worked on specific music devices. This new battery was her latest prototype and it could power anything that needed twelve volts. George looked through his enchanted sack's stockpile of military survival gear and had an idea.

After writing a letter home, George waited in the Great Hall for his package. He had told Dominic that he wanted some of his security cameras and sensors for the inside of his new case. You know… as extra security. George tried to stress that things may be just as likely to break out as they are to break in. There was a letter back the next day agreeing with George's request. Although this was already cause for celebration, that was only half of the good news.

Conveniently, Sheena had already been working on some magically powered motion detectors at Dominic's request. George was going to be sent the first experimental batch to test. It was like fate was rewarding his efforts for once, solidifying his convictions. A fat owl flew into the Great Hall carrying a small parcel. Hoot quickly dropped the parcel above George and flew back out of the castle. Knowing what was inside, George was careful to catch the box and gently open it. After confirming its content, he dashed out of the hall.

Hogwarts was infested with defensive spells laid on top of one another. With every new generation of headmasters came a new perspective on how to keep the school safe. From nearly indestructible walls to invasive scanning which could track every individual that walks its halls, Hogwarts was the safest place in magical Britain. However, it did have its weaknesses. With such an abundance of passive surveillance, no one would notice if a few tiny sensors were added. It would be a drop in the ocean, unnoticeable to those who aren't looking.

During a casual walk around the castle, George made his way to certain locations with limited traffic. The corridor leading to the headmaster's office was one such example. George checked that no one was around before climbing up to the rafters. At the top, he pulled out a tiny black box the size of his palm. He placed it in a shaded alcove and pointed the lens down towards the griffin statue. Once it was secured with a piece of blue tack, George switched it on and passed his hand in front of the sensor. He smiled after feeling the pager in his pocket vibrate.

Since they were experimental, George only had four motion detectors to work with. It had been six, but two of them stopped working shortly after turning them on. Like a good portion of Sheena's work, one of the two burst into flames, scorching George's hand. Since he had no idea how long the remaining four would last, George decided to limit himself to two locations. He planned to have a pair outside the headmaster's office, and the remaining two on the third-floor corridor.

"George, are you up there?"

George was pulled out of his contemplation and froze in place. He was sitting on top of the rafters on the third floor, fitting the last sensor. No one was meant to be here, and he'd already checked that Filch was on the other side of the castle. Why was Neville of all people here?

"Hello? George? Can you come down?", Neville called out.

George peeked over the rafter and held his finger over his lip.

"Keep it down or someone might hear. No students are permitted to be on the third-floor corridor, remember?"

A look of panic washed over Neville as he turned back the way he came. Luckily for them, there was no noise of any prefects or professors heading their way. George slid down the pillar like it was a fireman's pole and landed beside Neville. He dusted himself off before forming a casual smirk and patting Neville's shoulder.

"What you doin' down here, Neville? It doesn't seem like your sort of spot to hang out", George joked.

Neville looked back at him, concern in his eyes, "I wanted to check up on you."

"I've been hearing things", he said while looking around the dark corridor. "It seems they weren't wrong."

George squinted his eyes, "really? And who's been spreading rumours about boring old me?"

"Does it matter? You're here like they said you would. Are you trying to catch…", Neville leaned forward and whispered, "you-know-who?"

George pushed Neville away, "oh shut up. Don't tell me you heard Ron say that?"

"Harry too. They talk about a lot of weird stuff at night when they think everyone else is asleep. Recently, your name keeps getting mentioned."

George chuckled, "and you believe them?"

Neville shrugged timidly, "I don't know. That is why I came here. They said you might try to stop you-know-who from stealing something, and it was going to happen on the third floor."

George didn't hide his annoyance, "that's incredibly stupid. Why would they think that? It's the exact opposite of what I told them to do. Do they think I am a hypocrite or something?"

"Then why are you here?" Neville asked while looking at the door leading to Fluffy's sleeping quarters.

George scratched the back of his head and looked up, "I'm here… for my owl?"

"Your owl? You lost it? Again?"

George nodded, "er... yep. I want to send some letters home, but I couldn't find it. The stupid thing keeps avoiding me like the plague. Must be defective or something."

"Yeah... or something... Okay…", Neville didn't look too convinced. "Do you need any help?"

George waved his hand noncommittally, "narr. I'm going to give up for now. It's not worth the effort."

Then he pointed toward the moving staircases, "shall we leave before Filch finds us? I swear he has a sixth sense for finding students in restricted areas."

Neville gulped nervously, "yeah, let's go. And never come back, right?"

"Right", George agreed, trying to look as sincere as possible.

After grabbing a bite to eat and indulging Neville in some random plant talk, they went their separate ways. George could tell Neville was watching him from above on the moving staircases, George had no choice other than to return to his dorm. An hour later, he carefully went back to the third-floor corridor. He had to make sure that the motion sensor he'd left was properly secured.

That night, the trio plus Neville were plaguing George's mind. They should have just dropped the investigation into the Philosopher's stone after his talk. They now knew the whole picture and had no reason to defend it. So, why were they still talking about it? They had their exams coming up, shouldn't their simple minds be more worried about that? And why did they think he was going to fight Voldemort alone? Did they think he was a suicidal idiot?

There wasn't much George could do to ease his mind. Talking to the trio would only make them more suspicious. The best he could hope for was to let it be and hope they lost interest. The final match of the house quidditch cup was coming up. Hopefully, that would keep Ron's and Harry's attention distracted. Tomorrow was an early start so George decided to put today's incident behind him and go to bed.

The next day, George was woken up by his alarm clock. It was especially early in the morning, the cousins were still fast asleep. Today was the last appointment with McGonagall, or so she said. It was a sudden announcement last week which took George off guard. He'd become convinced they would continue up until he left for the summer holidays. Although surprising, George was relieved to finally stop feeding Dumbledore information regarding his flame conjuration.

Perhaps due to his enthusiasm, George turned up a little earlier to McGonagall's office than usual. Fortunately, McGonagall was an early riser and was ready to receive him. There was plenty of food on offer, more than usual. A few cakes and sweets were also sprinkled around, reminding George of the buffet at Ellie's birthday party.

"Are we celebrating something, Professor?"

"Indeed we are", McGonagall replied with a gentle smile. "This may be your last lesson. If you complete my final task, I will permit you to practice fire conjuration in your own time."

George formed a beaming smile, "really? Whenever I like?"

McGonagall chuckled, "within reason, Mr Linwood. I don't want to be hearing about your dorm room catching ablaze."

"Of course, Professor. I'll choose my practice areas carefully. Mainly outside if it's not too cold."

Once George had finished eating his breakfast, McGonagall ran him through every test she'd previously arranged for him. It was rather nostalgic for George to revisit the candle test from a few months back. It seemed so hard back then. Now… Did it need to be said? George clicked his fingers and the centre candle burst into flame, while the other two candles remained unlit.

The last test was still very difficult. Burning something as small as a hair on the back of his head was never going to be easy no matter how much practice he put in. It was a level of flame control few besides advanced Transfiguration wizards could accomplish. Luckily, McGonagall seemed to agree with that sentiment and allowed him to have multiple attempts. After nearly gaining a bald spot on the back of his head, George finally did it. A single hair was vaporised with a barely visible flame.

"Congratulations, Mr Linwood. You've completed the last test."

When it came down to it, this whole 'private tutelage' meant nothing. The skills he learnt here only mattered if his patron needed him to use them, and that wasn't very likely. However, that didn't stop George from taking some pleasure out of his meagre accomplishment.

"Just one last thing", McGonagall said with a mixture of pride and sadness. "I would like to ask you a question if you don't mind."

Judging by McGonagall's sombre expression, George certainly did mind.

"Not at all, Professor. Ask away", he answered cheerfully.

McGonagall took off her glasses and looked directly into George's eyes, "have we done something to hurt you? Or treated you unfairly?"

"We?" George questioned.

"Professor Dumbledore, or any of the staff at Hogwarts", McGonagall clarified.

"Uhm", George leaned back into his seat, his smile fading into a neutral expression.

George had expected a more direct confrontation for a while now. His patron had said to anticipate intrusive behaviour, especially towards the end of the school year. He'd hoped McGonagall would just let it be, especially after what happened to Dumbledore's brother. However, she'd chosen to step over the line. Now George had to 'clear the air', and not in a nice way.

"No", George replied simply.

"No?" McGonagall repeated, clearly confused. "Then why are you…"

McGonagall stopped speaking when she saw George lean over her table. He reached over and picked up a small picture frame. George turned it around and saw the face of a young man, around twenty years old with a flat cap and sideburns. The man was quite handsome, if not a little rough around the edges. He had a warm smile that spoke of his good nature. George knew this man, not personally but through his patron.

"Doubt is a dangerous thing, wouldn't you say Professor McGonagall?" George asked while keeping his eyes on the photo.

McGonagall leaned forward, "George, do you mind putting that down? It means quite a lot to me."

George leaned back out of her reach, "Dougal… it's quite a funny name. It makes me think of the dog from The Magic Roundabout."

McGonagall froze, "how did you know that name?"

George ignored her, "you were quite smitten with him, weren't you professor? A kind, intelligent, and honest man. I can't blame you. The day he proposed to you must have been special. But alas, he was a muggle, and you were a witch."

"How do you…"

George looked up at her, eyes void of emotion, "so you broke his heart and ran off to London for a job in the Ministry. He tried to contact you for months, but you never responded. Poor Dougal must have been devastated."

"Stop it."

"He did move on, eventually. Got married, had kids. Quite a lot of kids actually", George sighed. "But then the First Wizarding War happened. Anti-muggle wizards attacked and killed Dougal's whole family, not a single survivor. What a tragedy. If only you had chosen to stay with him, then he might have liv…"

McGonagall stood up and shouted, "that's enough! Stop it right now."

George put down the photograph and turned it around to face McGonagall.

"Doubt clouded your judgment, professor. Second-guessing your feelings and desires took away your chance to be truly happy. Now, you're all alone with nothing more than an old photograph to remind you of what could have been."

Then George stood up and straightened his robes, "unlike you and so many in this world, I do not doubt my motivations. I'm privileged enough to not suffer from such deficiencies. Dumbledore or yourself can threaten me, or try to befriend me, it does not matter. I know what I must do."

Under McGonagall's intense gaze, George walked over to the tray of food and picked up a slice of cake.

"That being said, you have treated me kindly. So, it pains me to say these next words. My patron has met your brother, Malcolm, and your niece. They're fine… for now. But, that is subject to change if needs be…"

George bit into the slice of sponge cake and swallowed, "this is really good. My compliments to the house elves."

He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief before continuing, "anyway, I think you're getting the gist. I'll be leaving if that is all."

George looked at McGonagall who was frozen in place. Her eyes were piercing right through him and were hiding a lot of strong emotions. It was weird. Even though George was in his human form, he felt like she was staring at his dragon side. Like she was staring at a monster. She didn't respond to George's question, so he just shrugged and took the silence as a yes.

The slice of cake was neatly wrapped in a napkin before being placed in George's pocket, "hope you don't mind if I take this to go. I have a little friend who'll just love to try it."

Then George gave McGonagall a big smile and a cheery wave, "goodbye, Professor McGonagall. See you in Transfiguration class."

George left McGonagall's office fifteen minutes earlier than usual. Since he had a little time to spare, he felt like heading down to Hagrid's hut. The last time he saw Norbert, the dragon was getting pretty big and aggressive. Hagrid should soon require his trunk and the large stockpile of chicken carcasses inside.