6kv Chapter 170 A Small Meeting in the Principal's Office
Chapter 170 A Small Meeting in the Principal's Office
Chapter 170 A Small Meeting in the Principal's Office
Dumbledore stood up, and the Great Hall fell silent instantly.
"As you all probably already know," he said, his voice low but carrying clearly to every corner, "last night, an unfortunate incident occurred in the castle. Mr. Filch's cat suffered a serious magical attack."
He looked around at the faces below the stage, some filled with fear, some with curiosity, and some with unease.
"To ensure the safety of every student, starting today, please ensure that you are in groups of at least five when you are in the castle. In addition, professors will increase the frequency of patrols throughout the castle."
He paused, his gaze behind his half-moon spectacles becoming unusually serious. "Everyone must strictly abide by this rule and remain vigilant. Deans of each college, please take responsibility."
After making the announcement, he sat back down. After a brief silence in the auditorium, a more noisy and worried discussion erupted.
Lynch sat at the long table of teachers, his fingertips lightly resting on the side of a glass of water, calmly listening to Dumbledore's announcement.
There was no alarmist talk, no unnecessary panic-inducing details; instead, clear and practical instructions were given: group up, patrol, and rely on the prefect. Efficient and calm, the pieces on the chessboard were moved precisely, quickly establishing a framework of order amidst the chaos.
"An efficient and concise management approach," Lynch thought to himself, "using minimal disruption to stabilize the overall situation." He gave it a highly positive evaluation.
This is indeed the most appropriate way to deal with the current situation.
Breakfast ended in a tense and uneasy atmosphere.
After the students left the Great Hall amidst their chatter, Dumbledore's gaze swept over the teachers' table, and he nodded slightly.
Professors McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick, along with Lynch, all understood and silently rose from their seats.
Gilderoy Lockhart also stood up, his face showing concern. He straightened his forget-me-not blue robes and quickly approached the departing teachers, lowering his voice but still clear and bright: "Professor Dumbledore, if any help is needed—I mean, dealing with this—well—unexpected situation, my experience is always available. I've been through countless similar—"
Professor McGonagall turned around abruptly, her lips pressed into a tight line, her gaze behind her glasses sweeping sharply at him.
"No need, Professor Lockhart." Her voice was deep but carried an undeniable force. "The Headmaster has summoned the Deans of the House and Professor Lynch. Please return to your seat, or, if you really can't stand being idle, you might as well think about how to ensure that nothing goes wrong in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
Lockhart's well-prepared smile faltered momentarily. He seemed to want to add something, but Professor McGonagall gave him no chance, quickly turning around and joining the others in escorting Dumbledore away.
Lockhart's outstretched hand froze awkwardly in mid-air before he had no choice but to withdraw it, watching their figures disappear outside the auditorium doors.
The group silently followed Dumbledore up the spiral stone staircase and into the headmaster's office.
A large figure was already waiting anxiously inside the office.
Hagrid practically filled the open space next to Fawkes Perch. His large fingers gripped the fur trim of his rat-skin coat tightly. When he saw so many people coming in, especially Dumbledore, his large, bell-like eyes immediately filled with a complex mix of grievance, fear, and hope.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but under Dumbledore's calm light, he only managed a muffled, whimpering sound, and his massive body took a half step back, almost crashing into the table with the silverware.
"Please have a seat," said Dumbledore.
Everyone settled down on the comfortable soft chairs or the more sturdy-looking chairs.
Hagrid hesitated for a moment, then finally chose to sit on the sturdiest-looking stool, his body causing the stool to groan slightly. He clasped his hands tightly on his knees and remained silent.
"Gentlemen," he began, his voice deep and powerful, instantly tightening the air in the room, "the situation we face may be even more dire than it appeared last night. The opening of the secret chamber means that an ancient and terrifying entity, one that we still do not fully understand, has been unleashed. I must remind you all that we need to be on our guard."
His gaze slowly swept over each of the deans, finally landing on Lin Qi, where it lingered for a moment.
Then he looked at Hagrid, his gaze softening slightly: "Regarding the tragedy fifty years ago, official records state that Rubeus Hagrid unintentionally released the giant spider he was raising, which led to the death of Maitl Elizabeth Warren."
Hagrid's breathing suddenly became heavier.
"Professor—" his voice was rough and pleading, "You know—that's not me—"
Dumbledore didn't let him continue.
He raised a hand, signaling Hagrid to calm down.
Hagrid's surging emotions seemed to be held back by an invisible dam; his massive shoulders slumped, and he fell silent once more, though his eyes remained fixed on Dumbledore.
"But," Dumbledore's voice became clearer and more resolute, "I have never fully believed this conclusion. I have always suspected that the person who actually opened the Chamber of Secrets, released the monster, and then accurately reported Hagrid, pinning all the blame on him, was someone else."
"Tom Marvolo Riddell"
He paused for a moment, his deep blue eyes gleaming behind his half-moon tinted glasses.
He is known to the world by another name—Voldemort.
The name struck most of the people in the room like a cold bolt of lightning.
Professor McGonagall gasped sharply, her face turning deathly pale, and she clutched her chest. Professor Sprout let out a short gasp, his plump hand covering his mouth. Professor Flitwick nearly slipped, shrieking, "Merlin's Beard! You mean... Mysterio?"
Snape's face remained as expressionless as a wax figure, but his dark eyes suddenly narrowed, becoming even more unfathomable, like a bottomless, icy pool. His knuckles turned slightly white as he concealed his hands within his sleeves.
"Yes, Philius." Dumbledore nodded heavily. "After what happened last year, we all know that Voldemort is not dead, but still lurking in the shadows."
"Before he became Voldemort, he possessed this ability and had this motivation."
"He may still possess the ability to open the secret room."
"This is very likely an operation orchestrated by Voldemort against Hogwarts."
He looked around at everyone, his tone becoming extremely serious: "This news must be kept strictly confidential. Its leak will only cause greater panic and may alert the enemy. Your top priority now is to reassure the students in your respective colleges, strictly enforce the regulations announced this morning, and do everything possible to ensure their safety."
His gaze sharpened once more as he scanned each of the headmasters: "Fifty years ago, we lost a student. I will never allow the same tragedy to befall any Hogwarts student today. Understand?"
A subdued, heavy chorus of agreement echoed in the office.
"Alright," Dumbledore seemed to breathe a slight sigh of relief, but his expression remained grave. "Please go and fulfill your duties. Minerva, Severus, Pomona, Philius—please."
The four deans stood up with somber expressions and left the office in silence, one after another. Hagrid seemed to want to say something, but under Dumbledore's gentle gaze, he lowered his head and, like a wounded bear, knelt down and followed him out.
The heavy door closed gently.
Only Dumbledore and Lynch, who sat quietly in the office as if he were just an observer, remained in the office.