Dumbledore returned to school quietly.
He's been very busy lately.
Not only must they investigate Voldemort's whereabouts, but they must also find the magic that allows the soul to leave the body and survive for a long time.
He and Fawkes appeared in the Headmaster's Office, and both the man and the bird were stunned on the spot.
The picture frame has been restored, but the antique table has not.
"Albus Dumbledore, hurry to the Great Hall!" Armando's tone was very urgent. "It's him, him from his student days!"
Dumbledore instantly ruled out 22 types of magic in his mind, but 16 remained.
Although he really wanted to eliminate them one by one, time did not allow him to do so.
The man and bird that emerged from the red flames were stunned again.
While all the teachers and students were eating breakfast, Tom didn't see a single ghost.
"You're back, Albus Dumbledore." McGonagall was at the staff table, stood up and walked toward him.
Dumbledore noticed that she was different from before; in fact, everyone present seemed to have experienced something.
"He opened the Chamber of Secrets and released this thing, and then tried to trap us inside..."
The small bottle in her hand made him realize the seriousness of the situation.
Just because nothing happened before doesn't mean it will always be safe.
It was fortunate that only Filch and Mrs. Norris were petrified.
After he had a general understanding of the whole situation, he turned his attention to the Gryffindor table.
Harry was not injured; he just seemed a little shaken.
Vincent ate his breakfast as if nothing had happened, and even winked at him playfully.
"Have they come back?"
"Yes, I just lent him the small bottle for 5 minutes."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him slightly. "I thought I could solve the Forbidden Forest problem once and for all. Hagrid, aren't you very moved?"
"Yes." McGonagall's expression was somewhat unnatural. "Vincent said that the Forbidden Forest should maintain its diversity, and that overpopulated species need to be controlled by introducing predators."
"Any other very reasonable suggestions?"
"Half a horn, or better yet, a complete horn."
Dumbledore, and he nodded gently. "Have you informed Cornelius?"
"It's already on its way, maybe it'll be here soon." McGonagall's eyes held a hint of melancholy.
"Albus Dumbledore, did you already know that Gilderoy was connected to him?"
"No, I just wanted to expose a swindler, but I didn't expect to attract an even bigger swindler."
She frowned and pursed her lips. "I think that besides being a liar, Gilderoy will be accused of many other crimes."
This is what Hagrid was like fifty years ago.
The Ministry of Magic was in dire need of a scapegoat, and Tom's report was particularly timely.
A competent politician like Fudge has no reason to let Lockhart, who is involved, off the hook.
Hopefully, he can learn from this experience.
A fleeting smile crossed McGonagall's face, followed by a serious expression. "Albus Dumbledore, about this—"
She tried to suppress the slight excitement in her heart, "Gilderoy's life force had been drained too much, and coupled with a little fright, his head had suffered multiple severe blows—"
She paused, as if organizing a more precise statement.
"In short, Gilderoy's situation is very bad, and he will probably end up like Quirinus."
Dumbledore looked at Vincent once again.
To begin with, it's already incredibly difficult to find a suitable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor; after this incident, even his personal connections might not be of much use.
Lockhart himself has serious problems and is incredibly stubborn; the original plan was for him to stay until the end of the academic year.
However, plans can't keep up with changes, and even the most stubborn person can only stay for a little over half a month longer Quirrell.
The nemesis of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?
Vincent looked up as if sensing something, and blinked at him in confusion.
"Sigh—I'll go check on Gilderoy first. If Cornelius and the others arrive, remember to call Vincent over too."
McGonagall suppressed a laugh. "I will, Albus Dumbledore."
Dumbledore rushed over, but left looking a little down.
Newt Scamander?
No, I have to get past Tina.
Alastor?
I haven't been retired for a full year yet, so I'll wait a bit longer.
Aberforth?
My own brother? Forget about it.
Gellert Grindelwald?
I'm getting a little excited just thinking about it.
Today is Tuesday, a Tuesday when there are no classes.
Unfortunately, it's only for one day; tomorrow's Potions Class will still be held as usual.
After breakfast, Vincent took his diary, which was almost broken in two, to the kitchen.
The answer to some missing details was revealed when Dobby saw it start to back away in fear.
Lockhart said that even before he became famous, Voldemort might not have taken notice of him.
Tom's diary could only belong to the Malfoy family.
Perhaps it was because of the raid led by Arthur during the summer vacation, or perhaps it was because Lockhart injured his nose; in any case, Lucius did it on purpose.
Considering the conspiracy Dobby mentioned, even without these unexpected factors, the diary would have appeared at Hogwarts sooner or later.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth—that has always been Vincent's way of doing things.
Several brass bullets engraved with Magical Circuit;
Hermione and her fragile little heart were hurt;
Wasting the six children's enjoyable night outing;
The Acromantula fled in terror at the sight of the Basilisk;
The entire school spent the night in fear and trepidation...
Lucius will have to foot the bill for these extremely serious losses.
"Dobby, do you yearn for freedom?" Vincent tried to make his expression more friendly.
Dobby — Dobby dares not think about it—
"If you are free, you can visit Harry anytime."
"Mr. Wayne, is this true?" Dobby eyes were full of longing.
"Of course it's true, I just need you to cooperate with me a little."
Dobby nodded seriously. "Mr. Wayne, how should Dobby cooperate with you?"
Vincent's lips curled up slightly as he bent down and whispered a few words into his bat-like ears.
"There are no lies, just a slightly different perspective."
Dobby understands.
Before leaving the kitchen, Vincent's gaze swept over the hundreds of House-elf.
Voldemort was too arrogant; he didn't even take advantage of their special movement method.
If it were him, conquering the British Isles and even the whole of Europe wouldn't take much time at all.
There was only one Dumbledore, and only one Fawkes.
"Ignorance and stupidity are not the greatest obstacles to survival; arrogance is—"
With those light words, Vincent walked out of the kitchen.
When he arrived at the Great Hall, he was stopped by McGonagall.
"Albus Dumbledore you to go to his office."
"Okay, did he say why?"
"People from the Ministry of Magic are also there."
Vincent blinked his big eyes, suddenly feeling a sense of unease.
Your principal is still your principal; he easily guessed his little scheme.
It's been two years in a row; the Ministry of Magic should do something concrete by now.
Otherwise, he would add a new faction to the upcoming Gwent and make Fudge's abilities even more fancy.