Ozpin glanced up from his desk as another call came in. He checked the ID: Vale Council. What else do they wish to say to me? They've already stripped me of one of my responsibilities in the Festival. No sense in trying to guess their motives, though. He pressed 'accept call'.

"Good morning, Councillors."

"Good morning, Ozpin." One of them speaking for all of them again.

Ozpin waited for the inevitable follow-up statement that told him what the call was for, but found none forthcoming. "Is there a reason behind why you've contacted me again, Councilman?"

"There is, Ozpin, and it's a decision that some of us are… hesitant about."

The choice of words roused Ozpin's interest. Rarely did the Council make decisions without being confident that they were right. Hesitance in those matters was uncommon, to say nothing else.

"Hesitant?"

"We understand that Beacon and its oversight is your domain, Ozpin." Oh. Oh no.

"Respectfully, Councilman, if we could dispense with the formalities, I would be very appreciative. If the Council has plans for Beacon, just inform me of them. Don't try and cover them up in florid language."

His response drew a reaction from the Councilman, a fact that Ozpin took note of. He doesn't want me to be so direct about this. I might push that button again if these plans aren't going to work out.

"Very well, Professor." Ozpin allowed a faint smirk to escape at the condescending use of his title. "Our plans for Beacon, as you put them, came about from further deliberation after Mister Torchwick's attack. It is plain to see, after assessing the reaction from our forces, that were it not for the presence of the Atlesian military in Vale, we would have sustained far greater losses than we had, potentially even losing some of your students."

Ozpin nodded as the Councilman outlined the process behind the decision. What he said was more or less correct; if Ironwood and his forces hadn't been in Vale, the teams that had deployed themselves to the attack – RWBY, JNPR, CFVY – could certainly have been overwhelmed. Potential could only get you so far in a fight, as Ozpin well knew.

"Now, in light of our deliberations, Professor, we have reached a decision: Beacon needs to increase its numbers."

Ozpin cocked an eyebrow at the vagueness. While his dealings with the Council, by their very nature, invited some ambiguity in the wording, this was something else. "'Beacon needs to increase its numbers'. Would the Council care to elaborate on exactly what is meant by that statement?"

"The Council requests that you increase the quantity of students attending Beacon Academy." By Dust, they've gone insane.

"And what would this accomplish, Councilman?"

"By increasing the number of prospective Huntsmen available to the Council of Vale, we might be better equipped to withstand attacks on such a scale again, without needing to resort to the Atlesian forces."

"Yet the Council has been content with the current output of Beacon Academy for decades, and equally content with letting the Atlesian military pick up the slack to the point that they have been appointed primary security detail for the Vytal Festival. Forgive me, Councillors, if I am misinterpreting your words, but you seem to be trying to play both sides. On the one hand, you look to be more independent from the Atlesian forces, but on the other, you are content to have the Atlesians watch over progressively more of Vale. I'm sure I need not remind you that, historically, managing the safety and security of all who attend the Vytal Festival has been a task for men of Vale."

"And times change, Ozpin. I'm sure you're aware of this. When the men of Vale prove outmatched, it is only reasonable to leave tradition by the wayside in the interests of public safety. The Council trusts that you can execute their wishes adequately?"

Ozpin scowled, realising his time to debate the Council's decision was at an end. "I shall fulfil the Council's request to the best of my abilities."

"See that you do."

The figure winked out of existence on the screen, and Ozpin released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. This will take some work. They couldn't have waited for the end of the semester for this? He pressed a button on his desk. "Glynda, could I see you for a moment?"

A quiet knock on the doorframe pierced Magnus's thoughts, bringing him out of his reverie. "Princep Magnus, our ears in the Council have come back with something."

The Princep whirled around, mention of the Council drowning out the rushing thoughts in his mind.

"And? What have they heard?"

"The Breach has rattled the Council more than we expected."

Magnus nodded, pacing slowly from wall to wall behind his desk, spinning a knife between his fingers. "Of course it has. You can't predict bureaucrats when their lives are at stake. I've been telling the other Princeps that for years, and now who's laughing? Carry on, I'm sure that's not everything."

"They've expanded Beacon's freshman year. The Council hopes for a doubled size."

"What, so they'll have double the numbers with half the training in four years?"

"Sir, if you want, I can have them remind-"

Magnus waved a hand dismissively. "No, Victoria, not now. We need the Hunters to fail on an incredible level. The Breach wasn't the failure I was looking for. Do we know who was behind that, yet?"

"Yes, sir. A well-known criminal by the name of Roman Torchwick has been taken into custody by Atlesian forces."

"Atlesians… terrific. That chapter still thinks we're dead, so he's out of our hands."

"Sir, I can re-establish contact with the Atlesians whenever you wish."

"That bitch Aloisa wouldn't let me hear the end of it if she found out the communication breakdown was my fault."

Victoria sighed as she heard yet another excuse for the Valish Cerulans to remain in isolation.

"Do you have a complaint to air, Consul?"

Victoria silently cursed herself as she snapped to attention. "No, sir. Just… got a lot on my mind."

"Of course. Do we have a list of persons of interest at Beacon?"

"A cursory one, sir. Freshman year only, per your orders."

"What about staff?"

"Well, sir, there's only two staff of note at Beacon: The headmaster and his deputy. The headmaster is known to us only as 'Ozpin'. Mononym, no idea if it's his first name, surname or nickname."

Magnus stabbed his knife into at the mention of Ozpin. "That can't be right. He should be dead by now." A nearly-imperceptible hand movement sent the knife clattering to the floor. "Dammit!"

"Sir?"

Magnus looked up at Victoria and was instantly reminded of his own age. She's only twenty-six, or so her file says. Of course she wouldn't know about 'Ozpin'. "Beacon's been run by 'Ozpin' for decades now. Long before you were born. I figured it might have just been one person – one hilariously eccentric person – but I know now that's not the case. There would have been an obituary by now. Do we have any recent images of this Ozpin?"

"Not many. He's reclusive, but we have descriptions of him. Should I read the most recent?"

"Please do."

Victoria pulled up the appropriate document on her scroll and cleared her throat. "Tall, approximately six feet six inches. Middle-aged, tending towards old, but curiously unwrinkled. Grey hair, dishevelled. Brown eyes. Clothing consists most commonly of black suit jacket, black vest – buttoned, green undershirt, black shoes and dark green pants. Sound familiar, sir?"

Magnus shook his head in disbelief. "That's him. How old is that description?"

Victoria quickly glanced down at the time stamp. "Three weeks old, sir."

Magnus allowed a dark smile to escape at the news. So, he looks the same three weeks ago as he does the last time I saw him nearly thirty years ago. I'm surprised he doesn't have some cosmetics company breaking down his door. "And the deputy?"

"Beacon's deputy headmistress is one Glynda Goodwitch."

"Goodwitch? We have a file on her?"

"Somewhere, sir. If we do, it hasn't been digitised yet."

Victoria ducked out of the way just in time to evade the thrown coffee mug. "What do you mean 'it hasn't been digitised yet'?! We've been using digital records for the past twelve fucking years!"

"What I mean, sir, is that not all of our records are automatically transcribed digitally. Sometimes, a scroll is more conspicuous than pen and paper. And, due to our underground status, finding people willing to transcribe several-page-long dossiers on Vale's esteemed Huntsmen and Huntresses is a rather difficult task. Finding people who won't talk about the fact that they are transcribing several-page-long dossiers on the aforementioned Huntsmen and Huntresses is slightly more difficult. Seeing as the only activity you've contributed in the past four weeks, sir, has been requesting updates on every major Hunter-related event in Vale and sputtering away in this office, I feel somewhat vindicated in not prioritising such menial administrative tasks in favour of appeasing your requests."

Magnus walked up to the young Consul, bringing her eyes up to his. "Consul, if you wish to leave this building, you may want to watch your tone. I plan. You obey. We are not a two-person operation, so I refuse to believe that you could not have delegated some tasks. The only hole here is in your effort."

"Sir, might I remind you that we are the only sworn members in the entire building. Unlike myself, the people I delegate to are not honour-bound to obey. Seeing as we pay them barely above standard, I would expect that any work is slow to get done."

"And this is where I reveal to you exactly what I've been whiling away the hours on for the past four weeks. Get your gear, we're going outside the walls."

Victoria looked on as her superior, who, scant moments before, looked ready to throw her across the room for her insubordination, took on a far cheerier demeanour and began strapping on armour plates over his clothes.

"Go on, I'll see you outside in five."

Victoria nodded quickly, darting away to her own office to gear up.

"You wanted to see me, Ozpin?"

Ozpin span in his chair, sipping from a coffee that he felt was much-warranted after his meeting with the Council. "Yes, Glynda. The Council came calling again."

"Oh. The Festival again, or…?"

"They want me to expand the freshman count."

"That's not possible. This late into the year, with the Tournament looming on the horizon…"

"I know. But this is the Council. They'll get somebody in who will if I don't. I'd like you to compose a message for the students informing them of this change. The last thing I need is more questions than necessary being asked."

Glynda sighed, pulling out her scroll. "All Beacon students, or just the freshmen?"

"All of them. We don't want to draw more suspicion from the upper years."

"More suspicion?"

"I'm sure you hear the same things I do, Glynda. The fourth-years and their cynicism isn't exactly a secret. If we were to exclude second-years and above from finding out about new students, they'd riot."

"I thought your normal intent with these requests was to keep the circle of knowledge as tight as possible, Ozpin."

"Most Council requests have the kindness to stay out of administrative matters. This one is rare. Unfortunately, the fact that it concerns the students here means that they must all be informed or else rumours begin to spread. And nothing's quite so dangerous as a rumour."

Glynda glanced up from her scroll to shoot Ozpin an annoyed look. "I'm not one of the students, Ozpin. You can stop with the little nuggets of wisdom concealed within mundane sentences when I'm around."

Ozpin smiled, taking another sip from his mug. "So you admit that there's wisdom in what I say."

"I would hope so, considering your position."

"So do I."

Ozpin's cryptic statement drew a sigh from Glynda, who saved the message quickly before putting her scroll away. "Ozpin, the doubt won't do you any good. I know you try to hide it, but it's obvious to anyone who spends more than a few moments around you. If the ghosts of the past are still bothering you, I can understand that, but don't let them cloud your judgement. You've told me hundreds of times that nothing is truly won without sacrifice, no matter how hard you work to avoid it. I hate to turn your words against you, but you've got to sacrifice those doubts sometime. Especially if you want your protégés to last as long as their predecessors."

Ozpin's veneer of contentment faded at Glynda's mention of the 'predecessors'. "I know, Glynda. I know." He stood from his chair and walked over to the window, a silent indicator that their conversation was finished. Glynda thought about going and reassuring him, but thought the better of it. Wouldn't be right, sending him mixed messages like that. Especially not with what I said. Nodding in delayed acknowledgement, she walked out of his office, pulling her scroll back out.

The concerted noises of four scrolls pinging in quick succession drew the attention of Team RWBY as they went through their morning routines. Yang, who'd already co-opted hers to serve as a pocket mirror in light of the bathroom's occupation by one frosty member of the team, was first to see the message. "Might want to take a minute, guys. It's from Goodwitch."

"Professor Goodwitch? Why would she send us a-"

A scream from across the hall interrupted Weiss's line of investigation. "NEW STUDENTS!? REN, WE'VE GOT NEW STUDENTS COMING!"

"Looks like it's more than just us who got the message, Ice Queen."

"Well, what is it?"

Yang looked up at her teammate disbelievingly. "You didn't hear Nora just then? New students. Seems the Council wants some more Hunters on hand."

Ruby's head emerged from her bed, a question following it. "We handled that breach pretty well, I think. Why should they be worried? We'll just do it again."

"We didn't do half as much to stop the breach as the Atlesians did, Ruby. I don't understand why they'd bring in more people, though. It just means there's more of us to teach."

Weiss shook her head as she walked out of the bathroom. "It's a buffer, Blake. If there's more people who have Huntsman training, then it'll reduce the number of people willing to attack Vale."

"Or they'll just employ more elaborate plans. Ones with a harder clean-up than 'fix the hole'."

"And there'll be enough people to make the clean-up easier."

Yang and Ruby shared a glance as their partners continued to debate the merits and drawbacks of Ozpin's plan, before Yang cut in to bring the argument to an end.

"Uh, guys? I don't think you've covered the short-term here. They'll probably be invited by Ozpin and have to go through initiation, just like we did. Remember what he told us when we first got here? About how we beat out hundreds of other hopefuls to get here? Even if he wants to double the classes, that's still a lot of people to choose from. Besides, they're not our problem to deal with. Yet. So, can you both calm down before I really have to get involved?" Yang blinked, feeling her eyes switch colours as she finished.

Blake cast a glance at Yang, noting the change in eye colours before looking at Weiss, who, from the sideways look she was giving Yang, had noticed the same change. "I think that's for the best."

"Yes. Let's agree to disagree."

A/N: REVIEW/FOLLOW/FAVOURITE

Hi reader! This is a re-working of a piece I posted here back in January, now featuring less terrible writing choices and more plot. Still going to have an OC, as that's an unavoidable part of the plot.

Chapters will be posted once a week, Monday evenings.