As it turns out, age really does bring wisdom.
While Andrew was still feeling nervous, the heavily promoted ads for Magic Legends finally reached the attention of the professors at Hogwarts.
One married professor, enjoying his summer break, saw the ad several times and, on a whim, ordered a copy of this month's Magic Legends.
And then… his five-year-old daughter fell in love with the bedtime story.
Unfortunately, stories always come to an end—especially when only the beginning has been published.
Worse still, while eleven-year-old students can be reasoned with or sent to detention, there's no negotiating with a five-year-old, especially when the other parent also wants to hear what happens next.
Even though Professor Taylor swore on his Outstanding in History of Magic that the story seemed entirely fictional, he still sincerely sent an owl to Dumbledore. If the headmaster had access to the original manuscript, he begged him to share it—just so poor Professor Taylor could enjoy the rest of his vacation in peace.
He even promised that the manuscript wouldn't be shared outside of his household. And if not possible… could the Headmaster at least give him an official notice for overtime work over the holidays?
The sincere letter quickly landed on Dumbledore's desk—professors' letters were given fairly high priority.
Especially now, when Minerva had dragged him into the office to deal with paperwork, this sort of letter was treated with the highest urgency.
"Oh, Minerva, this one's from a Hogwarts professor,"
Dumbledore said in a tone Cornelius Fudge had likely never heard before. After glancing at the height of the remaining paperwork, Professor McGonagall set aside her documents too, allowing the two headmasters a brief break.
Then she saw something rare: an expression of genuine confusion on Dumbledore's face.
"What is it, Albus?"
"An interview, Minerva."
"An interview?"
McGonagall's brow furrowed. "Don't tell me it's that madwoman Rita again?"
McGonagall, who rarely spoke ill of others, didn't hesitate to say the name—and that was telling in itself.
"No, it's something I don't remember doing," Dumbledore replied with a pleasant smile. "But it sounds quite interesting."
He stood and, with a wave of his wand, tidied his desk. Some lower-priority mail spilled out, and among them he quickly found eleven copies of the current Magic Legends issue.
He probably would've seen them earlier—if not for the mountain of ministry paperwork dumped on him anonymously.
"Apparently, there's an 'interview' with me, and it's selling like wildfire."
"Rita's spreading lies again?"
"I don't think so. Professor Taylor has never slandered anyone."
So, the two of them put aside the paperwork and began reading.
After about five minutes, McGonagall set the magazine down.
"Without a doubt, it's a modern fairytale. They just swapped out the protagonist's name."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed gently. "They probably did conduct some sort of interview… though I doubt a single word in here was actually said by me."
"But at least it's better than Rita's work. No malicious rumors."
"Still, I've read most of these fairytales already—lacks originality."
McGonagall gave Dumbledore a pointed look, prompting him to quickly set the magazine down again.
"Ah, yes, of course. Back to paperwork."
"Yes, Albus. These are required by the Ministry. We need to repair the greenhouse, replace the desks in four classrooms, and address the Black Lake's water quality."
"I'll take care of it, Minerva."
"Glad to hear it," she replied, gathering all the magazines and stacking them atop her own pile of documents. "I expect all the approvals done by lunchtime."
Apparently suspecting the magazines were distracting him, she resolutely marched off with them.
Still, Dumbledore soon retrieved a fresh copy from the letter pile. With a resigned sigh, he sat back down and returned to grading documents.
"Editor! Reader letters incoming!"
"A mountain of reader letters! No doubt about it—we've done it!"
"I told you this gamble would pay off!"
The atmosphere at the magazine office was electric. This was a serialized story—and from the first chapter alone, it was clear it could run for a long time. If this popularity kept up, they'd have a reliable hit for at least a year.
"All hail the potato!"
"All hail him!"
The celebration even brought out the magazine's editor-in-chief, who ordered a massive round of butterbeer and granted double pay for everyone involved in this series.
Morale soared even higher.
"Dumbledore: A Legend?"
Harry flipped through the magazine Hedwig had delivered—courtesy of Hagrid.
In the accompanying letter, Hagrid praised the semi-biographical story and even shared a "secret": "It's gotta be true—I saw Dumbledore reading it at the castle!"
That sealed it for Harry. He hadn't met Dumbledore yet, but Hagrid wouldn't lie!
He had to admit, he found this book far more engaging than his school textbooks.
"Magic is really that mysterious?"
"Three stages to the Levitation Charm?"
"A special wand…"
"Incredible adventures…"
"Man, I'm so jealous…"
He imagined himself standing before Dudley, shouting something like "Thirty years on the Thames's west bank!" or other dramatic lines.
"…I still couldn't pull it off, though…"
"Levitation Charm…"
"Levitation Charm…"
In a dentist's household, a freckled little girl was practicing the spell on a heavy stone.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Her wand movement and incantation were flawless. The rock floated up easily, even pressing against the ceiling.
"Hmm, no, that's not right," she muttered, carefully lowering the rock to avoid damage.
"It was supposed to be an anti-magic stone, not a normal one… from the word itself, it should be a stone that resists spells…"
"So how many stages have I completed?"
"I've succeeded with several spells, but I can't judge properly… It's still far from enough."
"How many people have been trampled by cattle now?"
"Should we start a special department?"
"Why are so many people getting hurt by the Levitation Charm—the simplest spell?"
"Okay, this spell's done too… summon flame…"
"Arson, lockpicking, body-binding… why do all the spells I've learned feel so sketchy?"
Andrew, unaware of how far things had gone, was starting to lose confidence.