Late at night, a blizzard raged outside, yet the windows of the Headmaster's office were still lit. Dumbledore, dressed in white pajamas beneath a purple robe trimmed with gold, sat in the high-backed chair behind his desk, leafing through the latest issue of Defense Guide by candlelight.
"What a surprise. I never thought my useless great-great-grandson would start a magazine, and one with a fairly good reputation, at that," Phineas drawled from within his portrait.
"Sirius has grown much more mature than he used to be. He also knows better how to look after his friends," Dumbledore said gently.
"Not that I look down on him, but with that fellow's temperament, he couldn't manage something like this on his own. Someone must be helping him." Phineas narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore. "What do you think Anderson is trying to do?"
"I don't know."
Dumbledore's gaze lingered for a long time on the page that revealed Karkaroff to be a Death Eater. No one knew what he was thinking.
"You seem to trust him." Without waiting for Dumbledore to answer, Phineas continued, "To be honest, I've always thought someone with his character belonged in Slytherin. He isn't as simple as you think. I keep feeling that Anderson is plotting something."
"I have never overlooked him."
Dumbledore continued flipping through the magazine in his hands, chatting idly with Phineas. "It is far too rash to judge a person by their House. People are always complicated. Everyone has their own thoughts."
"Stirring up trouble again, Phineas. You're just still bitter about those Galleons you paid last time. Don't forget, the boy saved your great-great-grandson." A large, red-nosed wizard roared loudly.
"I'm telling the truth. That fellow is greedy, greedy for money, and sly. My poor great-great-grandson is merely a tool he can use,