Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk in the Transfiguration classroom, her usually sharp and composed demeanor slightly frayed around the edges. Parchments were strewn across her workspace, each marked with urgent notes and to-do lists for the upcoming Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. She took a deep breath, the weight of the past weeks pressing down on her shoulders like a stack of poorly transfigured bricks.
"Limited funding, limited manpower, and an unlimited demand to see the bloody spectacle," she muttered under her breath, adjusting her square-framed glasses. "Excuse my language—oops, I shouldn't swear—but Merlin's beard, this is becoming more than I bargained for."
The fiasco had started innocuously enough. The Triwizard Tournament was already a logistical nightmare, but the revelation of Riser Phenex's true identity had sent everything spiraling out of control.
At first, only a few whispers circulated about the mysterious and charming participant in Hogwarts' festivities. Then the Daily Prophet had run their exposé, declaring the Phenex , family's & origins, wealth, and power. That was when all hell had broken loose—if you'll pardon the phrase.
Now, every noble house in Britain wanted a piece of Riser. Ministries from abroad were demanding access to the tournament, claiming "educational diplomacy" as their excuse. Letters from parents of Hogwarts students flooded Minerva's office daily, demanding special permission to attend the final task.
"And then," Minerva muttered to herself, "there are the infernal children from other schools writing to their headmasters, who then write to me, of course, asking for their little prodigies to attend. It's a never-ending cycle."
Even the Ministry of Magic had stepped in, with Cornelius Fudge himself arriving at Hogwarts, red-faced and spluttering, to demand an explanation from Dumbledore about why he hadn't been informed of Riser's presence beforehand.
"Handling This, As Always"
Minerva paused in her work to rub her temples. It always seemed to fall on her shoulders to manage these situations. Dumbledore had a knack for creating chaos and then stepping back, smiling serenely as if the world wasn't falling apart.
"Really, fuck Dumbledore for this mess," Minerva thought, then immediately chided herself for the uncharacteristic outburst. "I shouldn't think that. But... really."
Between organizing the maze for the Third Task, ensuring the security of the event, and fielding incessant requests from the public, she hadn't had a moment to herself in weeks.
And then, just when things couldn't possibly become more complicated, the man of the hour arrived.
Riser Phenex strode into Hogwarts one bright morning, accompanied by his younger sister. Their arrival sent an immediate ripple of tension through the castle. The sight of them alone—immaculate, confident, and radiating an otherworldly charisma—was enough to set the students on edge.
"Of course, he just came to stroll around," Minerva muttered under her breath as she watched him approach with a lazy, regal air. "Because why not add more fuel to the fire?"
She had grudgingly arranged for Harry, Hermione, and Ron to give Riser's sister a tour of the castle. That, naturally, resulted in another flurry of letters from jealous students' parents, complaining that their children hadn't been chosen for the honor.
While his sister was off touring, Riser himself requested a meeting with Dumbledore and Minerva. She reluctantly set aside her tasks to join them in Dumbledore's office.
Riser was polite, charming even, but there was no denying the weight of his presence. He had an air about him that suggested he was used to commanding attention, and people followed his lead whether they realized it or not.
The conversation began amicably enough, with Dumbledore leading the discussion about Hogwarts' history and the importance of fostering international magical cooperation.
But it was Riser who changed the tone of the meeting when he said, "I couldn't help but notice that the school is... underfunded for such a prestigious event."
Minerva stiffened. It was true, of course, but hearing it pointed out by someone like Riser was mortifying.
Dumbledore, ever the diplomat, smiled and replied, "Hogwarts has always made do with what we have. It's a lesson in humility and resourcefulness."
But Riser wasn't deterred. "There's a difference between humility and necessity, Professor. With the demand for attendance increasing daily, it's clear the school could benefit from additional support. Allow me to contribute."
Dumbledore, naturally, tried to decline. "Your generosity is appreciated, Lord Phenex, but Hogwarts prides itself on its independence."
Riser's golden eyes gleamed with quiet insistence. "This isn't charity. Consider it an investment in the magical community. Besides, my family has a history with Hogwarts, does it not? It's only fitting we continue that legacy."
Minerva exchanged a look with Dumbledore, silently pleading for him to accept. The additional funding would ease the tremendous strain on her and her staff, allowing them to focus on making the Third Task a success.
Finally, after much back and forth, Dumbledore relented.
To Minerva's surprise—and grudging admiration—Riser didn't stop at offering funds. He volunteered to send skilled workers from his house to construct the stands for the event. The workers arrived within days, and what they built was nothing short of extraordinary.
The colosseum was a masterpiece: towering tiers of seating, enchanted for perfect visibility and acoustics. Golden runes shimmered along the edges, providing protective wards and enhancing the spectacle for the audience.
When Minerva saw the completed structure for the first time, she let out a rare, unguarded gasp.
"It's... remarkable," she murmured, momentarily forgetting her usual reserve.
"Leave it to devils to show off," she thought later with a wry smile. But for once, she wasn't complaining.
Now, as the Third Task loomed closer, Minerva sat at her desk, reflecting on the whirlwind of the past weeks. Despite her initial reservations about Riser Phenex, she couldn't deny the positive impact he'd had on the tournament.
"Still," she muttered to herself, "I hope he knows what he's started. Hogwarts is Hogwarts, not a stage for the rich and powerful. Let's see how he handles the crowd he's drawn to this school."
Minerva adjusted her glasses and turned back to her work. There was still much to do, but for the first time in weeks, she felt a glimmer of hope. The Third Task would be a success, thanks in no small part to the man who had so unexpectedly changed the course of events at Hogwarts.
"Let's hope," she murmured, "that he doesn't change too much more."
-----
The morning sun bathed the sprawling Phenex estate in a golden glow as Riser emerged from his chambers, dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit with crimson accents. He adjusted his cufflinks, a small but noticeable smile gracing his lips. Today was an important day—another visit to Hogwarts. The last had created enough of a stir to ripple through the Wizarding World, and Riser intended to see the effects firsthand.
Waiting for him in the estate courtyard stood his peerage, each one with their unique demeanor and style, forming an odd but effective ensemble of personalities and power.
Tai Lung, standing with his arms crossed, looked visibly displeased, his tail flicking behind him in irritation. "Do I really have to go to this ridiculous wizarding school?"
Before Riser could answer, Isabella smirked, leaning casually against a pillar. "What's the matter, scaredy-cat? Afraid of a few wand-waving nerds?"
Tai Lung glared at her, his fists clenching. "Watch it, Isabella. I'm not scared. I just don't see the point of playing nice with a bunch of humans."
Riser chuckled softly, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Tai Lung, you're a devil now. It's about time you lived a little. Broaden your horizons."
Yubellana, standing elegantly in her usual black and gold attire, folded her arms. "Tai Lung, listen carefully. The Wizarding World is not the same as ours. Many of them may not take kindly to us—especially not to someone with your... race."
Tai Lung grinned, baring his sharp teeth. "Good. Then I'll smash those sons of bitches into the ground if they try anything."
Koragg, stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You'd do well to know when to unleash your rage and when to keep it in check, Tai Lung. There's a time for battle and a time for diplomacy."
Tai Lung rolled his eyes, his arms dropping to his sides in mock surrender. "Men, stop lecturing me. Fine, fine, I get it. I'll behave."
Miwa clapped her hands together, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Nee, nee, Tai Lung, don't be such a spoilsport! It's my first time in the human world, and on top of that, it's a wizarding school! How cool is that? So no smashing things, okay?"
Tai Lung sighed, ruffling his fur in exasperation. "Alright, alright. I'll try. No promises, though."
Riser, watching the exchange with an amused smile, shook his head. "You lot never fail to entertain. Alright, enough banter. Let's go."
With a wave of Riser's hand, the group disappeared in a swirl of flame and reappeared at the gates of Hogwarts. The majestic castle stood tall against the backdrop of the Scottish Highlands, its towers and spires gleaming in the mid-morning sun.
Waiting for them was none other than Professor Minerva McGonagall, her sharp gaze sweeping over the group. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, her robes fluttering slightly in the breeze.
"Lord Phenex," she said with a nod, her tone polite but brisk. "Welcome back to Hogwarts."
"Professor McGonagall," Riser replied, offering a charming smile as he stepped forward. "Thank you for having us. I trust everything is ready for the Third Task?"
Minerva's lips tightened slightly as she nodded. "It is. Though I must admit, your previous visit has left us with more... complications than we anticipated." Her gaze flicked briefly to the peerage behind him, her eyes narrowing slightly at Tai Lung, who was fidgeting impatiently.
"Complications?" Riser echoed, feigning surprise. "I hope my presence hasn't caused too much trouble."
Minerva's eyes gleamed with wry humor. "Nothing we can't handle, Lord Phenex. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to the staging area for the event."
Riser gestured to his group, and they followed him as Minerva led the way toward the castle.
As they walked through the hallowed halls, Miwa's eyes sparkled with wonder. She glanced around at the moving portraits and enchanted suits of armor, her excitement barely contained.
"Wow! This place is amazing!" she whispered to Yubellana, who walked gracefully beside her.
"It's... quaint," Yubellana replied, her tone cool but not unkind.
Tai Lung, meanwhile, was staring suspiciously at a ghost that floated past, muttering under his breath. "Spirits."
Koragg said nothing, his eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet vigilance.
Riser, walking at the front, turned to Minerva with a small smile. "Your school certainly has its charm, Professor. It's no wonder it holds such a special place in your heart."
Minerva raised an eyebrow, her expression softening slightly. "Hogwarts has endured for centuries, Lord Phenex. We take great pride in its legacy."
"I can see why," Riser replied. "Though I suspect your legacy will grow even more after this tournament."
Minerva didn't respond immediately, her sharp gaze flicking back to Tai Lung, who was poking at a moving staircase as if testing its stability. "Let's hope your group doesn't add too many... memorable incidents to that legacy."
Riser chuckled, his golden eyes gleaming. "Don't worry, Professor. I'll keep them in line."
Minerva's lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. "See that you do."