A Game of Wits and Misdirection: A Psychological Battle Between the Master and the Demoness

Harley's gaze did not change in the slightest, but she remembered the letter from earlier.

The moment she had touched it, the letter had changed. Its salutation had shifted from "Mr. Harry Potter" to "Miss Harley Potter."

In other words, had Hogwarts been monitoring her all along? Or had that letter been imbued with some special Beyonder power, such as so-called magic?

"Dear Headmaster Dumbledore, thank you very much for your concern." Harley replied in a tone that carried a young girl's innocence without losing any politeness.

"By the way, staring so openly at a beautiful lady is very impolite."

Dumbledore said with interest, "Thank you for the reminder, Miss Potter. By the way, may I call you Harley?"

"Of course." Harley answered with a smile, naturally shifting her hands slightly and folding them together again over her lower abdomen.

In truth, Harley did this so that her arm could quietly come into contact with the box containing the soul fragment.

The Dumbledore before her clearly possessed the strength of a demigod. If he had abilities similar to those of the Visionary Sequence and could read her memories, she would be in serious trouble.

Harley knew that she had once traveled between worlds, and such an occurrence should be extremely rare. Even powerful figures like Amon and Mr. Door had wanted to study her.

Therefore, Harley would never allow her secret to be exposed in this world as well.

Amon and Mr. Door were big shots. She could not afford to provoke them, nor did she have the ability to stop them from seeing through everything.

But this old man before her was probably only between Sequence 3 and Sequence 4 in strength, so Harley was confident that she could keep him from seeing her memories.

The secret lay in that box. Inside was a damaged soul fragment, one that had fallen into a state of loss of control and madness.

Although most of Harley's strength was temporarily sealed, with certain curses and Dark Magic, along with direct physical contact between her body and the box, she could still forcibly make that soul fragment receive another person's memory probe in her place.

If the old man before her tried to forcefully probe her soul, it would surely be very interesting.

There was still a small flaw in her plan, but Harley was gambling that it would not be noticed.

A Demoness's nature was madness. It was only a small gamble, but one that could determine life and death. Harley believed she would win.

Harley thought pleasantly, a polite smile curling at the corner of her lips.

However, Dumbledore did not seem prepared to read Harley's memories. Instead, he began chatting with her as if making casual conversation.

"Harley, the reason you were admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is because you possess this talent.

"Both of your parents attended our school, so from the moment you were born, your name was automatically recorded on our school's list."

Dumbledore chatted with Harley as though casually, first introducing the school's background before gradually steering the conversation in the direction he wanted.

"That really is magical. I would love to see for myself the list that can automatically record our names." Harley had already put on white gloves when she entered the living room.

Now, she covered her mouth with a hand clad in a white silk glove and laughed softly.

"Yes!" Dumbledore nodded. "Wonderful, isn't it? Every child qualified to study at our school has their name appear there automatically.

"More wonderfully still, Harley, did you know? The first name to appear on that list was Mr. Harry Potter, not Miss Harley Potter.

"Only this morning did the name on that list automatically change back to Miss Harley Potter."

Dumbledore's eagle-like gaze watched Harley through his half-moon spectacles. "Quite an interesting mistake, isn't it?"

Harley nodded in agreement. "It certainly is interesting. Such an important magical item making such a basic mistake really does mean it needs repairs."

Harley had already realized it. Someone at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was definitely monitoring her, or perhaps magic itself was watching her.

Then, without revealing her secret of having traveled through worlds, she would need to tell a small lie.

Someone had once said that pretty girls were best at lying, so Harley had naturally learned that skill as well.

Combined with the linguistic ability granted to her by the Sequence 8 Instigator, Harley was exceptionally skilled at disguising herself and guiding people in the wrong direction through words and actions.

Thus, from the moment she met Dumbledore, Harley had displayed the etiquette she had learned among the upper classes of countries such as the Loen Kingdom and the Feynapotter Kingdom.

Moreover, Harley wielded that etiquette with great proficiency. Every movement made it seem as though elegance had seeped into her bones.

After all, even the most powerful demigod, or perhaps even an Angel, would probably never guess the truth out of thin air.

Who would casually speculate that a child had traveled through worlds, spent many years in another world, and then returned to find that no time had passed in her original world?

With that, Harley's practiced etiquette and flawless demeanor became highly misleading.

Especially since the white-haired elder before her looked like a wise man. Such wise men were perhaps even more likely to be led astray because they thought too much.

Sure enough, Dumbledore was beginning to have doubts. From Harley greeting him, to every movement she made as she sat down, to the way she covered her mouth and laughed softly.

Everything the girl did was incomparably natural, as though she truly were a girl. Her movements combined proper etiquette with a young girl's unique liveliness, as if she had practiced them countless times.

Together with the girl's natural reactions and innocent eyes upon hearing his words, Dumbledore found it difficult to harbor even the slightest suspicion.

Dumbledore considered the fact that Harley's name in the Book of Admittance had changed this morning and approached the matter from another angle.

"After learning today that you could go to Hogwarts to study magic, were you very happy? Did you feel as though you were different from usual?"

Harley nodded and said cheerfully, "Yes! I woke up very early today, much earlier than usual.

"After I woke up, I heard the mailbox make a sound, and then I received this letter.

"At the same time, I felt much lighter overall, as if some burden had been lifted from my soul."

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked with interest. "Then may I boldly ask you, Harley?

"What exactly do you mean when you say you felt much lighter, as though some burden had been lifted from your soul?"

Harley keenly caught the gravity Dumbledore could not conceal in his eyes and immediately judged that this was useful information. She could continue misleading him in this direction while probing for more information.

Thus, Harley thought for a moment before answering, "Headmaster Dumbledore, that begins with last night. Last night, I had a very terrifying nightmare."

As she spoke, Harley furrowed her brows, revealing an expression woven from pain and fear.

"I... I dreamed..." Harley's expression grew increasingly frightened, as though her entire body instinctively rejected recalling everything from that dream.

Dumbledore still smiled, but he quietly cast a Calming Charm.

Harley felt a force soothing her mind, one similar to the abilities of the Spectator Pathway, so she cooperatively changed her expression.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, you may not believe me, but last night I dreamed of a person with no nose wailing inside my mind."

Harley put on an expression as though she were struggling to remember. "But in the end, the wailing disappeared, and that noseless person was reduced to ashes.

"At the same time, he left a great deal of incomprehensible writing in my mind. It was chaotic and disorderly, and it made my head hurt terribly.

"Only one of those words barely formed a phrase. That phrase was Avada Kedavra." At this point, Harley's body trembled slightly.

"Then this morning, I felt much lighter, as though something had been removed from my soul."