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Author: RdeHwyll Story: Harry Potter and the Rampage of Ages Rating: Teens Setting: AU Status: WIP Reviews: 8 Words: 92,749
Harry and Hermione had finished their meeting with the other prefects and were now taking a census of the students as agreed upon in when the group delegated tasks. “That’s five in compartment B, Car Three, Hermione--four first-years and a third year Hufflepuff.” “Right--that makes 147 altogether,” she replied. Harry opened the door to the next compartment and was greeted by a chorus of hellos. Padma and Parvati Patil, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Seamus Finnegan were sitting with a young boy who bore a remarkable resemblance to the Patil twins. “See you’re a prefect, Harry,” Seamus remarked. “Congratulations.” Harry smiled at his friends. “Hello, everyone. They want a census, and I‘m also trying to let everyone in Dumbledore‘s Army to know to be ready--the train may be attacked.“ He quickly sketched out the details about the mass breakout from Azkaban. The young boy whispered something to Parvati, who nodded. “This is our brother Pauleesh, Harry. Paul, this is Harry Potter,” introduced Parvati. Paul‘s eyes grew round, glancing upward at the partially hidden scar on Harry’s forehead. “H-Hello, sir,” the young boy said, extending his hand. Harry took Paul’s hand in his own, shaking it while smiling broadly. “Hello, Paul…“ “Harry, look at Neville’s new wand,” interrupted Luna. “Tell him about it, Neville.” Neville looked embarrassed, but reached into his pocket and pulled out the object asked for. “It’s rowan, nine and three-quarter inches and very stiff with a phoenix feather core,” he explained. “It works so much better than… than my other wand. Mr Ollivander said it was very special, particularly because it was the newest wand he had made. He told Gram and me that it was made for one of the professors at Hogwarts, to their specifications, but they had cancelled the order only the day before.” “And the wand chose you?” asked Harry, remembering the number of wands he had to try before Mr Ollivander brought out the brother wand to Voldemort’s. “Very first try--this was the only wand in the shop he let me touch.” “Harry, what’s taking you so long?” asked Hermione as she nudged Harry out of the doorway. “Oh, hello, everyone… let’s see, that’s four sixth-year Gryffindors, one sixth-year Ravenclaw, one fifth-year Ravenclaw and one first-year--oh, you must be Pauleesh. Parvati had your picture on her nightstand last year. Welcome to Hogwarts, Pauleesh.” “Thank you, Miss --?” “This is Hermione Granger, Pauleesh,” said Patil, introducing the Head Girl. “Hello, Miss Granger.” Pauleesh was studying her with bright brown eyes as he spoke, his smile showing even white teeth. “It is my hope to join one of my sisters in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.” “I’m sure either house would be glad to have you, Pauleesh,” the Head Girl replied. “Harry, we have to finish up this census before the train gets to Hogsmeade--shall we go on?” “Duty calls,” Harry sighed. “We can all talk later, all right?” A general agreement and round of goodbyes followed him as he and Hermione closed the compartment door and advanced to the next. Opening the door, they found a contingent of Slytherins sitting quietly and almost at attention. A grim-faced man, sporting short hair and at the adult point of life where it becomes difficult to accurately determine age, looked up at the interruption. “Well? What is it?” he demanded. “Erm, sorry to interrupt, but we’ve been sent to take census,” answered Harry. From the far side of the man came a snort and Draco Malfoy leaned forward to glare at Harry. When the man noticed this, he barked, “Malfoy! Upright, eyes straight ahead!” Draco winced at the tone and did as he was told with alacrity. “Prefect, eh boy?” The man returned his gaze to Harry as he asked the question. Dark eyes scrutinized the Gryffindor prefect, and Harry felt that he was suddenly under a microscope. “Yes, sir,” Harry replied, taken aback by the gruffness of the man‘s demeanour. “All right then--People, sound off! Year, surname and house. Clockwise from Malfoy.” “Sixth-year, Malfoy, Slytherin!” came Malfoy’s voice. This was followed in turn by, “Sixth-year, Goyle, Slytherin!” “Sixth-year, Crabbe, Slytherin!” “Sixth-year, Parkinson, Slytherin!” “First-year, Miles O’Filisteer, House to be determined at Hogwarts!” Miles response earned a brief smile from the older man, who finished with, “Professor Mackenzie O’Filisteer, Sergeant, Royal British Army Magic Corps, Retired. Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor at Hogwarts. And who might you be, boy?” “Harry Potter, sir.” Professor O’Filisteer nodded. “Thought as much. I understand you took it on yourself to train others in Defence last year.” “I-I was requested to do so, sir. If I had not, many would have done poorly for their O.W.L.s.” “I see,“ nodded the Professor, studying Harry. Involuntarily, Harry stood straighter. “I understand that you were attacked by a Muggle at the station, Potter?” “Y-yes, sir.” Harry saw Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson smile at the news. “More of Voldemort‘s doing, I take it?” Every Slytherin in sight flinched at the professor‘s use of the name. “Yes, sir.” Harry felt a trickle of sweat begin to run down the back of his neck. “I believe he used the Imperious Curse to control the Muggle. Then he had the Dementors set all the prisoners at Azkaban free.” “I see… Well, get along, Potter--you got the information you needed.” With that dismissal, Harry said, “Thank you, sir,” and quickly closed the compartment door. “Who was that?” asked Hermione, looking shocked. “Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor,” said Harry, taking a breath as he willed his heart to slow down. “Professor O’Filisteer. It - it looks like he’s got everyone in there on a short leash.” “So I heard. It sounded like the man has been in the Military, the way he was giving orders.” “He was--Sergeant of the Royal Army Magic Corps,” replied Harry. “He’s got the Slytherins all sitting at attention in there.” “Well, good for him. A little discipline for that lot is just the thing,” smiled Hermione. “I just wonder--what if he’s going to run his lessons the same way? I mean, sitting at attention, not moving or speaking to anyone the entire time?” Just then the compartment door slid open and Miles emerged into the corridor. Now that he was standing up, Harry could see that the boy was obviously related to the new professor. Dark eyes, a grim face, and a military stance gave indication that the boy had been raised quite strictly. “Prefect Potter, sir? Permission to attend the loo, sir?” he asked. Taken aback by Miles’ formal way of speaking, Harry merely nodded. The boy said, “Thank you, sir,“ saluted, turned smartly on his heel and marched down the corridor. Hermione finally stopped staring after him as he closed the door to the car‘s loo, swallowing hard before she commented on Harry’s previous questions. “It appears to be a very good possibility, Harry.” *** When Harry and Hermione had finished the census and taken it to the Prefect‘s car, they made their way back to the compartment where they had left Ron and Ginny to take a break and spread the news about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. “…bet you never saw it coming, did you, Neville?” they heard Ron say as they slid the compartment door open. Inside, Neville and Luna had joined their friends, Neville looking rather embarrassed. “I still have trouble at times believing it myself, but it’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened in my life,” Neville was saying, a shy smile on his face. “Believing what, Neville?” asked Hermione, sitting down next to Ron. Neville’s blush deepened. “Erm, I--I asked Luna to go out last summer after she and her dad got back from hunting Snorkacks, and she and I--we’re --” “Now a couple,” finished Luna, leaning more against Neville and taking his hand to hold. “We go out together whenever Daddy takes me into London, and Neville‘s Flooed to Ottery St Catchpole several times.” Ginny glanced up at Harry and said, “It must be something in the air--Ron and Hermione are a couple now and Harry and I are as well.” “So I’ve heard,” grinned Neville. “Luna, did you know that Ginny’s the one who taught me to dance?” “I know you took her to the Triwizard Yule Ball two years ago,” smiled Luna. “I hope she’s not disappointed that I took you away from her.” Ron started to laugh, but quickly turned it into a fit of coughing as Hermione dug an elbow into his ribs. “Well, it is a shame that there’s only one of him, but at least one lucky girl got him,” said Ginny, appearing to be quite serious. Hermione kept glancing out the window every few minutes as the others kept up the conversation, causing Ron to comment, “The big brown ones are cows, Hermione, and the smaller white ones are sheep.” “What?” she asked, as if only then aware someone had spoken. “You’re in a different world today, Hermione,” replied Ron. “What are you daydreaming about?” “I’m just …thinking, Ron.” “Yes, but about what?” Ron persisted. “I --” she looked at the others in the compartment and a faint blush coloured her cheeks. “I’ll tell you later, when we’re alone.” She stood and left the compartment without saying a word. “What was that all about?” asked Neville. “I’m not sure…” Ron tried to get to his feet to follow her, only to be pushed back down by both Ginny and Luna. “Ron, stay here. It’s obvious that something’s bothering Hermione, and if she doesn’t feel like discussing it in front of others, it’s got to be something personal,” declared Ginny as both she and Luna got to their feet. “Probably something she’s reluctant to talk about with you as well,” added Luna, “so we’ll talk to her and see what we can find out.” With that, the two girls left the compartment, shutting the door firmly behind them, leaving the three Gryffindor boys alone. “They’re mental, all three of them,” grumbled Ron, who quickly opened a Chocolate Frog and viciously bit its head off. *** “What is it, Hermione?” asked Ginny when she and Luna had found the Head Girl standing in a passageway between cars. “It’s just--I was thinking about this next couple of years at Hogwarts. It’s rather silly, actually,” replied Hermione. “I was wondering if Ron and I would ever be able to spend any time alone.” “Alone?” queried Luna. “Alone to do what? Talk? Snog? Or are you talking about going off together for a sha--” “Luna! How can you even think about things like that?” Hermione had blushed a rosy pink. “Because I’ve been thinking about the same things with Neville,” shrugged Luna. “It’s just that he’s so shy, I’m afraid he and I will never get to the good stuff. Oh, we‘ve kissed a few times, but--well, it‘s like pulling teeth to get him to even touch me. He won‘t hold hands unless I insist and if I move closer, he just edges away.” “Well, that’s definitely not Ron’s problem. Sometimes I think he’s doing self transformation and growing a second pair of hands,” Hermione grinned wryly. “I like it, most of the time, but sometimes he’s just a little too eager.” “So what’s the problem, then?” asked Ginny. “It’s not really the time we spend together, it’s--How do we ever get any privacy? The common-room’s full most of the time and getting to each other’s dormitory is out of the question. An empty classroom isn’t good, what with Peeves and Filch always snooping around--not to mention Mrs Norris.” “What about the Room of Requirement?” suggested Ginny. “Too many people know about it now--I imagine almost every couple in the castle will try to use it sometime.” “Broom cupboards and linen closets,” declared Luna. “There are lots of those, and all of them can be locked or hooked closed from the inside. That’s what I’ve decided to use.” Ginny and Hermione looked at Luna, surprise evident on both their faces. “Erm, well--I suppose that would work, but what if Filch comes to get a broom? What do you think he’ll do if the door’s locked?” Hermione’s face was red, but her mind was clearly working on details. Luna’s eyebrows went up. “Have you ever seen Filch use a broom? Madam Pomfrey sweeps the castle with magic once a week because Filch is too busy chasing students or polishing his manacles. There are many opportunities if you just plan ahead. In fact, I’m going to go get Neville now--I’m pretty sure the ‘in use’ sign on the loo will deter most people from snooping.” *** By the time the train reached Hogsmeade and the students were either boated or taken by carriage to Hogwarts, one thing was entirely evident: the Slytherins were cowed. Professor O’Filisteer had already awarded four detentions and taken 100 points from their house before they got off the train. There was a great deal of hushed snarling and muttering between the Slytherin students, lots of glares at Professor O’Filisteer from the Slytherin table and several Seventh year students were seen to approach Professor Snape to complain before the sorting ceremony began. It was when the first-years were led in by Professor McGonagall that Harry realised what had been bothering him since the census totals were totted up on the train. Instead of the usual thirty or forty first-years, there were nearly one hundred new students to be sorted. “Looks like there’s been a population explosion,” he commented to Ginny as they watched the Sorting Hat being set out on the stool. The Sorting Hat beginning to sing drowned out Ginny’s reply.
Professor McGonagall opened her scroll and began to read names: “Adisdain, Benjamin,” whom the Sorting Hat placed in Slytherin; “Bismallah, Ahmed,” went to Hufflepuff; and so on through the names. When “O’Filisteer, Miles,” was called, he strode erect to the stool, sat down and placed the hat on his head, a look of determination on his face. It looked to Harry as if the boy were repeating something under his breath as he waited the Hat’s verdict. The Sorting Hat took only a few seconds to send him to the Gryffindor table. He was followed by “Patil, Pauleesh,” who joined Ravenclaw to cheers led by both of his sisters. One by one, the rest were sorted, until the final student, “Vertinozia, Claire,” took her seat with Hufflepuff. Only then did Professor Dumbledore appear, striding up the centre aisle to take his place at the head table. “Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts. We particularly welcome the first-year students, for they, as are the rest of you, the future of the Wizarding World. There are a few brief announcements to be made--First, we welcome Professor Mackenzie O’Filisteer as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor. We are quite pleased that he has agreed to take the position, and we are sure that he will fill that niche with a new and exciting outlook to teaching.” There was a round of applause, the Slytherins noticeably refraining from joining in. “Next, Mr Argus Filch, our caretaker, reminds us that with Lord Voldemort loose in the world, and the freeing of his Death Eaters this morning from Azkaban Prison” -- there was a gasp of alarm as many students heard this news for the first time -- “it is imperative that everyone stay within the bounds and wards of the Hogwarts grounds. There will be grave consequences for those who fail to heed this warning, with detention at hard labour the lightest punishment, and expulsion from Hogwarts the greatest. He also wishes to reiterate that the forest is forbidden to all students, and that anyone casting spells or using any of the proscribed items, listed on a notice in each common-room, in any of the hallways between classes is also to receive punishment. “Third, it has been determined that the safety of the students has been satisfactorily prepared for, so Quidditch matches between the various Houses for the Quidditch Cup will resume without interruption. Those wishing to try out for their House’s team should see Madam Hooch before the end of the second week of classes.” This was met with a huge roar of approval from all the tables, followed by a sudden quieting as Professor Dumbledore raised his hands for silence. “That being said--everyone tuck in!” Immediately, each table was loaded with a vast array of comestibles, ranging from tiny pickled plover eggs to entire roast piglets. Everyone quickly filled their plates with their favourites and began eating, a low drone of conversation filling the background. Ginny pointed out to Harry that Miles O’Filisteer was sitting straight up, almost at attention as he ate. “Doesn’t he realise he’s allowed to relax here?” she asked. “Apparently not,” replied Harry, frowning a bit as he caught Professor O’Filisteer watching his grandson with a hawk-like stare. Professor Snape also seemed to be studying the boy, though when he noticed that Harry was watching him, he looked away and began a conversation with Professor Sprout. “I think I’ll have a word with him when we get up to the common-room.” Ginny leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Don’t take too long, Harry--I’d like a bit of your attention, too.” Her voice seemed to vibrate with some mischief, but Harry merely nodded and said, “I’ll meet you in the common-room when I’m done.” The feast went on for most of an hour, until everyone was sated and growing sleepy. Professor Dumbledore rose to lead the students and staff in singing the school song, and then sent everyone to their dormitories. Harry and Parvati (who was that year’s female Gryffindor Prefect) led the group of new students up the stairway to the corridor that led to the portrait of the Fat Lady, gave the password (“Lop-Eared Jarvey”), and ushered them into the Gryffindor common- room. Parvati then led the female first-years to their dormitories as Harry took the large group of boys up to their lodging. Harry worried where they would all sleep, as there were so many more than previous years, but was pleasantly surprised to find that the dormitory had been somehow enlarged to accommodate the greater number. Harry sought out Miles as the boys readied themselves for bed. “Miles? You do realise that Hogwarts isn’t run in a military fashion, don’t you?” he asked. Miles looked up from unpacking his pyjamas and dressing gown (both folded so neatly that Harry thought there would be creases) then snapped to attention. “Yes, Prefect Potter--But I prefer to continue behaving in the manner in which I was raised.” “Well, do as you like, but consider that, like Professor McGonagall told you, Gryffindor is your home now, so when you are at home you may relax.” Miles blinked twice, and then fell from attention to parade rest. “Thank you, Prefect Potter. I will follow your orders.” Harry watched as the boy returned to readying himself for bed, then shook his head, wondering if the military training that had been instilled in Miles was a good thing or not. Making his way out of the room and down the spiral staircase to the common-room, he was met at the doorway by Ginny, who grasped his hand and led him to one of the overstuffed chairs in a corner of the room. She had apparently turned it so anyone sitting in it could not be seen by others unless they walked around the chair itself to look. “Sit,” she said, pushing him into the chair, then climbing in next to him, snuggling close and taking his arm to wrap around her shoulders. “That’s much better, isn’t it?” she asked, laying her head on his shoulder. Harry grinned. “Better than what?” he asked in return. “Better than putting a bunch of rowdy first-years to bed? Better than Potions with Snape?” “Better that you kiss me before I get mad,” teased Ginny, turning her head to facilitate the requested action. Harry twisted his own neck to reach her waiting lips, and was lost in bliss for quite some time. When they finally broke apart, Ginny wriggled up onto his lap and laid her head against his other shoulder. Her warm breath on his neck was a comforting sensation, and almost without thinking, he wrapped his arms about her protectively. “Harry, I’ve been thinking that we should do something together,” she murmured. “Like what, Ginny? Other than meeting here in the common-room to play wizard chess, exploding snap, or study?” “How about going up to the Astronomy tower? The moon is waning, so it won’t be up for another couple of hours. We can watch the stars together.” Ginny started to get to her feet, only to be pulled back down onto Harry’s lap. “First thing’s first. Do you remember when you told Neville and Luna we were a couple on the train today?” Harry sounded very serious. “I think we had better not spread that word around too much--if the wrong people were to find out, they might use you to get to me. I don’t want to put you in that kind of danger.” “Oh--I never thought of that,” Ginny bit worriedly at her lip. “Do you think I should tell Luna to keep that to herself, then?” “I asked Neville to tell her, so I think we’re safe on that front. I do not think Ron or Hermione would ever put you in danger that way, either. So that leaves us with the problem of continuing together without too many others finding out,” Harry sighed. “We’re going to have to be careful of our time together--Not that I’d mind spending twenty-four hours a day with you.” That comment returned Ginny’s smile to her lips. “So you think we should try to stay circumspect? Does that mean I should not be sitting on your lap? Or kissing you like this?” She put action to her words, pressing her lips to Harry’s. Harry pulled her into a deeper kiss before releasing her and replying, “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about it here--just out in the school and in public places.” “Well, in that case, I still say we find some privacy up in the Astronomy Tower. Come along,” she said, standing and pulling Harry out of the chair by his hands. *** “Oh, no--Double Potions with Snape first thing this morning? That’s cruel and unusual punishment!” complained Ron. “Why did I have to do so bloody well on that O.W.L.?” “Because you want to be an Auror,” said Hermione, “and that means further studies in Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Transfigurations.” “Well, at least I’ll have some help,” said Ron, looking at Hermione, “right?” Hermione pursed her lips tightly together, giving Ron the impression that she was channelling Professor McGonagall. “Ron, this is the first stage of N.E.W.T. level training and you need to apply yourself more. I do not care to help you just slide along. Why don’t you try something different this year--like studying?” “It wouldn’t hurt you, Ron,” piped up Ginny. “I’ll even let you borrow my new Potions texts to study.” “Maybe I should borrow them too,” added Harry. “While I did better than I expected to, I was still borderline to qualify for N.E.W.T. studies with Snape.” “But you were top of the class for Defence Against the Dark Arts and did very well with both Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. That is where your strengths lay, Harry. You said Professor McGonagall was going to help you with Transfiguration, too.” Ginny smiled at him as she praised his skills. “And with Professor Dumbledore teaching you Occlumency, you’ll be able to qualify for a N.E.W.T. rating in that as well. Maybe your skills in those areas will be more important.” “It would be nice to think so, but you know that Snape hates me--he’ll do everything in his power to find some way to disqualify me.” Harry sighed. “Not if we keep a record of his actions in the class--he may be the instructor, but a personal bias that can be documented would weaken any of his arguments. It says so right on page 34 of the school charter --” “I bet you’re going to say, ‘in Hogwarts: A History,’ right?” interrupted Ron. Hermione stopped mid-sentence, a stunned look on her face. Ron laughed triumphantly at her expression, for beating her to the punch on a comment was a rare occurrence. Even Harry and Ginny had to work at not joining in, resulting in two rather red faces. “Erm, maybe we had best get going, Ron,” said Harry. “We don’t want to give Snape any excuse for taking points from Gryffindor.” With that, he gathered his book bag and stood up, pausing only long enough to give Ginny a quick buss on the cheek and tell her he would see her at lunch. The three sixth-year Gryffindors headed for the castle dungeons, arriving only to find the classroom empty. It was several minutes before anyone else arrived, and by the time the class was due to start, only nine students had shown up. The tenth student, Draco Malfoy, arrived in the company of Professor Snape who, upon surveying the makeup of the class participants, acquired a look of long-suffering disappointment. “This is your sixth year under my tutelage, so it is disheartening to find that so few were able to qualify for my advanced classes--and more so to learn that so many of you are here by the grace of only a point or two on your O.W.L.,” Snape began. “Let me warn you now that any slacking off in this class, any attempts to disrupt the class or to sabotage another student’s work --” He paused to let his eyes bore into both Ron and Harry, “-- will result in your disqualification and dismissal from all further studies, and possibly your expulsion from Hogwarts.” He smiled grimly and turned to make a pass at the blackboard with his wand, causing a complex formula to appear. “Copy this down, then you may start on brewing the potion. You will find the necessary ingredients in the student cupboard at the rear of the room.” With that, the Potions instructor strode to the door of his office and disappeared inside, shutting the door firmly in his wake. “That was somewhat different,” whispered Ron to Harry, who nodded and continued to copy down the formula. It was when Harry went back to check and see if he had missed anything that he noticed the change--what he thought had been Rabbit Whiskers was now listed as Powdered Beetle Wings. He corrected his copy, and checked again, only to find another ingredient changed. Nudging Ron, he pointed out the changes. “There’s something going on that doesn’t make sense, Ron. Tell Hermione.” As the red-haired teen whispered to his girlfriend, Snape’s office door opened suddenly and the Potions master appeared. “No talking, Weasley--Five points from Gryffindor.” This elicited a snicker from the sole Slytherin in the room, who promptly raised his hand. “What is it, Malfoy?” asked Snape. “Professor Snape, sir, someone has been using magic to alter the formula on the board,” Draco announced. Snape whirled to look at the blackboard, and then angrily, with a fierce frown on his face, said,“Everyone stop mixing your potions.” As he strode around the room examining the contents of everyone’s cauldron, his frown became even fiercer. “Everyone take out their wands,” he ordered. Drawing his own, he went from person to person casting a spell on each wand, though no effect seemed to take place. By the time he had examined each one, his scowl could have caused cows to dry up and birds fall in flight. He suddenly whirled, slashed with his wand toward the blackboard and intoned, “Spiritia Immobilus!” Striding to the door of the classroom, he opened it and called out, “Baron! Your assistance please!” Moments later the silvery-white semi-transparent form of the ghost known as the Bloody Baron appeared. “You called for aid, Severus?” the apparition asked. “It’s Peeves, behind the blackboard. If you would be so kind…?” The Bloody Baron drew his ghostly sword and quickly flew about the room. As he drifted past the blackboard, he lunged, his hand reaching out to plunge into the wall and draw forth by the collar the immobile and very scared-looking poltergeist known as Peeves. “YOU DARE TO INTRUDE WITHIN THE CLASSROOM OF THE HEAD OF MY HOUSE?” the house ghost of Slytherin bellowed. “I WOULDST DAMN THY HIDE AFTER FLAYING IT FROM YOU, WERE YOU WORTH THE TROUBLE AND LIVING. INSTEAD, I SHALL MAKEST MINE WRATH UPON YE IN SUCH A MANNER THAT THOU SHOULDST WISH THAT YOU WERE LIVING AND A FLAYING THE GREATEST EXTENT OF MY ANGER!” With that, the Baron dove through the floor, hauling Peeves after him. Professor Snape restored the potion formula on the blackboard with a casual wave of his wand. “Those of you who were so pitifully foolish as to make use of the ingredients that pox of a poltergeist substituted in the formula, I suggest that you dispose of your mixture and thoroughly clean your cauldrons before continuing with the proper ingredients. Twenty points to Slytherin for bringing this matter to my attention.” With that, he once more retreated into his office, slamming the door so forcefully behind him that the door to the supplies cabinet opened of its own accord.
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