Meanwhile, in the Ancient Runes professor's office.
Professor Babbling had tossed her coat onto the desk and changed out of the jeans that showed off her figure into a pair of loose trousers.
Though she had lived for several centuries, Professor Babbling was still a fashionista—and nothing like those European Sanguines who liked sleeping in coffins.
She had always done whatever she pleased and lived however she was most comfortable.
If not for a certain reason that had led her to sign a contract with the sinister, scheming headmaster of the time, Professor Babbling wouldn't have even considered teaching Ancient Runes.
After changing, Professor Babbling sprawled unceremoniously across the bed.
She kicked off her sneakers and socks, and her pale, jade-like calves and delicate feet swung in the air, knocking against each other.
"Would you believe it? That little Albus didn't lie to me this time."
Muttering to herself, Professor Babbling picked up a mirror from the bedside table.
"How strange. He loves lying so much."
She lightly tapped the edge of the mirror and called out without a trace of decorum, "Albus! You little rascal! Get out here!"
The Two-Way Mirror lit up, and Professor Dumbledore's face appeared in it.
"Albus, you didn't lie to me today?" Professor Babbling skipped the greetings and got straight to the point.
Professor Dumbledore looked perplexed and gave a wry smile. "Bathsheda, when have I ever lied to you?"
"Oh? Should I add up your total for you?" Professor Babbling raised a hand, and a little notebook flew over from the desk.
She waved the black-covered notebook in front of the mirror, then opened it with a mischievous grin and read a page aloud:
"April 1898. A red-haired, blue-eyed Gryffindor Prefect and Head Boy, name unknown, brought a blond boy from Durmstrang, also