Ash's grin slightly faltered at Hermione's question. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathered his thoughts, and ignored Flitwick's amused look.
"Hermione, please listen to me until the very end of my explanation. I will not take you as my apprentice this year, and I have several reasons," Ash started and tried to ignore the immediate devastated expression on the young witch's face.
"First of all, I do not doubt your talent, your aptitude for the subject, or your commitment to learning. Any master would gladly take you as his apprentice, provided they do not stumble over their own outdated beliefs," the potion's master explained while gaining a reassuring smile and placing his hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"Had you asked before I took on Hestia and Flora, I might have even said yes. Surely you could have become a master of your own right out of Hogwarts - of that, I have no doubt," Ash continued. "Just as I have no doubt you could gain a mastery in many other subjects... which is one of the reasons I will not take you on just yet."
Hermione solemnly nodded and continued to listen to Ash, though a lot of tension had left her body at the continued praise from the man in front of her.
"By the time I was three, I knew for sure I wanted to become a potion master - because I grew up exposed to the wizarding world and had a legacy to build upon. I knew my options and continued to confirm in my heart year after year that potions is what I wanted to excel at, what I wanted to dedicate my life to. You, on the other hand, are about to spend your fourth year in the wizarding world. You didn't have enough time to consider if maybe you want to become a warder, a curse breaker, an enchantress, or maybe even step into Luna's mum's footsteps and become a spell crafter or even all of the above."
Flitwick's warm smile increased from where he was watching the interaction. Pandora Lovegood, as ditzy as she was, had been a favorite among the many Ravenclaw students he had seen in his house over the years. He had been delighted to hear of her recovery this summer and even spent a few afternoons discussing charms with her over tea at Ash's new wizarding spa or at his house.
"I could see you in any of these professions, and I have no doubt you could gain a mastery in many of them over the years. But that is also a double-edged sword. To do that, you need incredibly thorough and sturdy foundations in your magical studies. Something I have no doubt you can accomplish in your years at Hogwarts, but it might not happen if you throw your entire extracurricular attention on potions for the coming three years and ignore the wonders of the Hogwarts library," Ash concluded. By that point in Ash's explanation, Hermione had entirely calmed down and considered the points he had raised.
"That is a point in your consideration. Now comes one in mine. I might be called a prodigy by many, and I wouldn't deny it if you called me a genius teacher and unparalleled potion's savant," Ash quipped with a wink. "But I'm also currently an apprentice under Poppy in the art of healing, I teach four years of potions here at Hogwarts, I plan to continue guiding a club or two, and I have two cute little apprentices already that I don't want to feel neglected."
Hermione nodded, but Ash wasn't entirely finished.
"Don't get me wrong, I am very glad to have the twins as my apprentices. They make my life all the more rich. But my motivation in taking them in initially wasn't because of my fervent search for someone to pass my enormous experience of one whole year as a potion's master onto."
Harry gained a little smirk at Ash's attempt at a joke, but Hermione understood his underlying message. If the Carrow twins didn't get lucky while being so very unlucky, Ash might not have taken any apprentices yet in his decorated but incredibly short career.
Ash's hand lifted from her shoulder and gently ruffled her smooth hair, that she had managed to tame recently with the help of the Burke sister products.
"Never stop asking me questions, though. I may not be your master in potions, but I'll still be your professor this year. Maybe next year, too. Who knows? And I'll never shy away from imparting my knowledge to you," Ash finished with a wide smile.
For the rest of the evening, Ash continued to be in a great mood as he listened to the sorting ceremony, Dumbledore's announcements for the year, and the excitement of the student body for the Triwizard tournament.
All his colleagues continued to praise him for a job well done - they had all visited his spa over the summer. And why wouldn't they? Ash had given them coupons for free treatments, after all.
In their merry conversation, not one of them even brought up the controversy Ash had caused during and after the attack of the 'alleged' Death Eaters at the World Cup. As the man who disapproved of his stance and actions the most at the table and didn't shy away from letting him know of his opinion with 'subtle' stares, Dumbledore didn't bring up this matter either. It looked like he wanted to simply get over it and have everyone forget about the matter entirely.
And then, not even the cloudy and weird entrance of the new professor for DADA, former auror Alastor Moody, could dampen his smile.
Yet, before Ash managed to talk to the man he wouldn't mind calling a friend on account of him being the mentor of his best friend, Nymphadora Tonks, Ash's night took a dark turn.
Before the prefects could scurry away the eager first years to their respective dormitories, a battered, bruised, and bleeding house elf popped in front of Ash much louder than her entrance usually would be.
Monsy, the house elf at Hogwarts that was more or less Ash's personal attendant during his stay, appeared right next to the elf and tried to stop the bleeding with horrified eyes while whimpering her name.
"Ilia!" Someone shouted from among the students as many gasps rang through the hall.
Ash wasn't far behind Monsy's actions and immediately started to close her wounds as best as he could. Poppy, his master in healing, ran over and cast concerned looks at the house elf but let her apprentice do the work.
All of the elf's wounds were clearly the works of dark curses, and it didn't take long for Hogwarts matron to see that one of the elf's eyes would likely never work again. But the house elf didn't take long to grit her teeth to explain her current state.
"Master Ashy, they came. Thirty bad wizards and wolfmen came for S-sta-"
"Just rest for a second. No need to talk until you stop bleeding," Ash sternly reprimanded while he continued to try and clean the cursed wounds as best he could. He had already poured two potions into his little house elf - one to stop the bleeding while helping with blood regeneration, the other to help clear out foreign energies from the body.
The last one was a recipe he learned from the hags and was disallowed from sharing with the world. Until he managed to vastly improve the recipe or derive a similar potion with this recipe and potions that worked in similar ways, he could sadly not share this helpful marvel of potioneering with the world.
Nevertheless, he was very glad he had potions like these in one of the extended pockets on his coat.
Under the astonished eyes of countless students who stayed behind and the professors, who watched with grim expressions, Ilia was finally stabilized and uttered words that nobody wanted to hear, least of all Ash and Dumbledore.
"Master Ashy, it's terrible! They managed to get past four lines of defenses and destroyed seven greenhouses with that ugly evil fire. My father, his father, and the entire tribe they watched over are gone forever," Ilia shouted amid tears to the astonishment of all the students. Someone attacked Ash's home?
"What about the guests, my grandmas?" Ash asked while trying to glean as much meaning out of the distraught house elf.
Ugly evil fire? They were attacked by dark wizards, so likely Fiendfyre if it managed to rip apart so many lines of defenses and destroy so many of his greenhouses.
Ilia's father and grandfather? Two older house elves that lived out the only type of retirement they were happy with, working for their master. But he didn't give them hard jobs, no.
They were watching over a big but manageable tribe of Bowtruckles. Little magical beasts akin to living twigs that made any forest more magical. Wrangling these mischievous troublemakers in the lush environment they were provided at the grounds of Starkey Manor was effortless. It was still a lot of work, but effortless nonetheless.
"Nobody else was hurt much, Master Ashy," Ilia explained through chokes and sobs.
Ash instantly felt bad that he made her recount this information when she had already admitted to the fact that she lost her own family. Surely, with the elf's nature, she would have mentioned the fate of his great grandmother if it was a bad one. But he had to be sure.
"Alright, I'll meet you outside the wards, and we'll apparate together," Ash ordered as he stood up with a stony expression and turned to his colleagues. "I'll let you know as soon as possible if I'm available to teach classes tomorrow or not, headmaster."
Dumbledore raised his hand and motioned for Ash to stop.
"No need for that, my boy. We'll go over together," the headmaster explained with a serious expression. "Fawkes!"
With a fiery entrance, the gorgeous phoenix living at Hogwarts appeared on Dumbledore's shoulder. Without any further explanation, the headmaster left together with Ash, his elf, and professor Flitwick under the astonished looks of the student body.
Among them, Luna's initially fearful expression gradually relaxed as she looked toward the twins near the Slytherin table. The Rook, Luna's family's home, was a lovely place with many happy memories, but ever since Pandora left St Mungo's at the end of August, she stayed at Starkey Manor as much as possible.
Mostly under Luna's and Ash's urging, though she enjoyed the vast grounds and beautiful greenhouses just as much. The calming herb that woke her, the one Ash brought from Japan, was growing in one of his greenhouses, too, and both wanted her to get into top shape as fast as possible.
But Ilia said everyone else was fine, so her parents - if they visited Ash's home like planned to keep her grandmas company - were fine. Just like her grandmas. Had they waited a moment, Luna still would have wanted to flashfire over with them. Sadly, she had to wait for Ash's confirmation later tonight or tomorrow morning.
When Ash, Filius Flitwick, and Albus Dumbledore appeared in a flash of fire at the gates of Starkey Manor, Ash furrowed his brows even more.
The gates were open, but all the wards on it were intact. As one of the three masters of the wards, he could immediately feel that they were okay. Even the broken ones on the other side of the grounds were already mending by someone's hand.
Four layers of defenses were down, but they didn't even damage the gates? They tried entering from the woods then. Where the wards were currently mending. Whoever planned an attack from woods had a screw loose. Because that's where the Starkey warders of the past generations placed their experimental wards.
As Ash, Filius, and Dumbledore entered the grounds, a smoldering, oppresive heat hung in the air, and Ash's initial suspicions of someone conjuring the magical equivalent of hellfire was confirmed.
"Ash, you're here," Victoria greeted calmly, though there was a steely edge in her voice. Thankfully, she seemed completely fine otherwise. Ash knew what that tone of voice meant, though.
His great-grandmother was beyond pissed. This attack on her family would mean war was on the horizon. And Ash felt the same as he started seeing the damage to the grounds from on top of the hill the manor was standing on.
"What have we lost?" Ash asked as he heard no sounds of fighting or anything else that needed his immediate attention.
"Finn, Steggy, and Eddy," Victoria said as she named three of the older house elves working on the grounds with a heavy heart. "The entire autumn leaf Bowtruckle tribe is gone, too. We found no survivors so far."
There were a few subspecies of the Bowtruckle. Newt Scamander had named them after the color of their leaves, a color that reminded of certain seasons but didn't change throughout the year. Though, the coloring really only distinguished them from one another with no other changes between subspecies. Other than the color, they had no different abilities or characteristics.
"Of your personal greenhouses, you lost the Greek, Egyptian, and the new Japanese one. Some damage was done to Lunar, too. The rest was just the working greenhouses for the shop. I say 'just', but it's probably damage in the mid six-figures."
As Ash calmly took all the information in, he saw his uncle, Xenophilius Lovegood, exit the house with what appeared to be a team of aurors. He guided them somewhere that Ash and his group followed after they saw Xenophilius solemnly nod toward them.
"Any survivors?" Ash whispered as he guided Victoria by offering her an arm.
Dumbledore would have likely wanted to hear this answer the most, but Ash was past caring Dumbledore's philosophy at this point. They attacked his home when they thought he wouldn't be here.
"Four, permanently crippled. Two, broken psyche from inhaling copious amounts of Ghost Crow pollen at the Egyptian greenhouse. Clearly, they didn't take Herbology seriously at Hogwarts. One more with burns all over. I gave all of them your... special kindness. The rest fell," Victoria openly answered with a bloodthirsty grin - though, she simply raised a sound barrier that Dumbledore surely felt going up to hide the glee in her voice from the 'old fogey'.
Special kindness... Victoria was the only one other than him who knew what she meant with that. Not even Ilia or his master Griselda knew what Ash had secretly developed in his youth. Well, he was still in youth, technically. What he had developed before he took his potion NEWTs.
It was something he secretly administered to every Death Eater he 'obediently' handed over since he started coming across them.
It all started with Theodore Nott's father. A man who Ash had... met in Knockturn Alley during the summer before his fifth year. A man who he saw cast the Imperius curse on a young witch. A man who got off with a slap on his wrist after his wand was mysteriously misplaced at the Ministry so nobody could use Priori Incantatem on it. He had heard of a field report from the arresting auror that was misplaced, too. An auror that no longer works in the British Isles, to the surprise of nobody that followed up with the case.
It continued with Peter Pettigrew. And all the Death Eaters that survived his counter-attack at the World Cup.
A poison that did nothing to a saint. A poison that forever haunted someone willing to inflicted evil. A mind poison that tortured you with the pain you inflict on others willingly.
Bottled Karmic Retribution.
A few less wholesome chapters are coming up, if I keep writing it as I am. But I want Ash to address the stagnation of the wizarding world in a meaningful way, and this is the only thing that I could come up with.
Dragging everyone through the mud.