A Speech During Breakfast

At night, Scott lay in bed, carefully reviewing everything he had done over the past two days. Only after confirming once more that he had left no loose ends did he finally heave a sigh of relief.

Of course, while he believed he wouldn't be caught, he still couldn't fully set his mind at ease.

After all, this was Hogwarts, and their headmaster was Dumbledore. He could not use his own shallow experience of only three years in the magical world to second-guess the old man known as the greatest wizard of the century.

However, Scott was also quite curious about one thing: how would Dumbledore react if he knew about all the little schemes Jasmine Travers had been up to since enrolling?

Jasmine Travers was born into a pure-blood family loyal to the Dark Lord. Her father, a notorious Death Eater, was currently locked away in Azkaban, so one could say her "family heritage" was quite deep.

Furthermore, as a daughter, Travers was far more ambitious than her father; she was not satisfied with her father groveling at the feet of the Dark Lord—she wanted to become the next generation's Dark Lord herself.

What a pity.

Scott felt it was a great shame that he wouldn't be able to see Headmaster Dumbledore's expression.

He also wanted to know if Dumbledore would be as wary of a little girl as he was of Tom Riddle in the "original story."

However, he felt that the so-called pure-blood witch group likely had no future; the professors who knew the truth would certainly keep a close watch on these little pure-blood witches.

But all of this was just his speculation and couldn't be taken as fact. He just needed to wait for the results with peace of mind.

At breakfast the next day, when Scott arrived at the Great Hall with his roommates, he found all the professors sitting at the staff table, including their headmaster, Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore might have news to announce to us," Eddie whispered excitedly. "He must have found the cause of those three girls' illness, and I bet they've even cured them already!"

Scott was noncommittal toward Eddie's words.

If the girls had fallen ill due to magical means, he believed Dumbledore could solve it quickly. But as for the virus he had brought from the Muggle world, wizards, who were always arrogant toward Muggles, would never think in that direction.

Therefore, he guessed that the only treatment method the wizards could use was to strengthen their constitutions with potions or charms, relying on their own immune systems to overcome the virus in their bodies.

Thus, those three girls would not be able to leave the hospital for some time.

As time passed, students arrived at the Great Hall one after another. All the young wizards sat at their respective house tables, whispering to one another.

It seemed that Dumbledore's presence had dispelled the panic, and the students were generally much calmer than they had been yesterday.

This was the deterrent power of Dumbledore.

As long as he was here, he made people feel at ease.

Clink, clink, clink.

Professor McGonagall tapped her glass with a silver spoon three times.

"Quiet."

With one sweep of her stern gaze, the vast Great Hall fell silent immediately.

"Ahem."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and was about to speak when Lockhart, sitting at the staff table, suddenly stood up.

"Hello, everyone!"

Lockhart grinned, revealing his neat, white teeth.

"I see that many of our young wizards are not in the best of spirits, which deeply pains Hogwarts' most popular professor—that is, me, Professor Lockhart."

Lockhart was still wearing a brightly colored robe, his head held high with an air of confidence.

Scott noticed that the other professors at the staff table were looking at the suddenly jumping Lockhart with indescribable expressions.

Especially Professor Snape; he looked at Lockhart as if he were staring at a Flobberworm. His face was also extremely ugly, as if he were reacting to seeing a hundred Harry Potters smiling at him.

Professor McGonagall kept signaling to Headmaster Dumbledore, but Dumbledore hesitated, and for some reason, he did not stop Lockhart from speaking.

"I know you are worried about what happened yesterday. But you seem to have forgotten that you actually have no need to worry."

Lockhart didn't notice the reactions of the other professors at all, performing with great enthusiasm.

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award—but I don't go around bragging about that; I don't get rid of banshees by smiling at them!"

He repeated his classic line once more, then held his head high, seemingly waiting for the students' reaction.

However, he was disappointed; no one screamed or laughed, and even his most fanatical admirers were in no mood to cheer for him at this moment.

"He really is a big idiot," Roger cursed under his breath. "That fool who only knows how to grin—doesn't he know everyone is waiting for Dumbledore to tell us the results!"

No one responded, but Lockhart, standing at the staff table, felt no embarrassment at all.

"Well, well, I know you're not in the best of moods," he sighed theatrically. "But you shouldn't forget that there happens to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts expert in the school right now."

He spread his hands with a helpless look. "Yes, with me here, what do you have to worry about?"

At this point, he giggled again. "Don't worry, don't worry, young wizards, this matter will be resolved very soon, I assure you..."

"Very well, thank you for your words, Professor Lockhart."

Dumbledore finally stood up. He even clapped his hands lightly, nodded at Lockhart, and signaled for him to sit down.

Lockhart, interrupted mid-speech, had his smile falter for a moment before he bowed to Dumbledore with feigned grace. When he raised his head again, the smile on his face had returned to normal.

"I know everyone is very concerned about what happened yesterday."

As Dumbledore began his speech, all the students in the Great Hall listened intently.

"Our Miss Rowle, Miss Avery, and Miss Travers have fallen ill for unknown reasons and have ultimately been sent to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."

Dumbledore spoke rather slowly, and the anxious students could not help but crane their necks.

"Unfortunately, we have yet to find the cause of their illness, nor have we developed a targeted treatment plan for the time being."

Hearing this, a look of panic appeared on the faces of many students once again.

Dumbledore continued, "But fortunately, none of the three young ladies are in any life-threatening danger. According to the healers at St. Mungo's, with conservative treatment, they will recover in three months. We will welcome them back to school together when that time comes."

"So that's it! Thank Merlin!" Tears welled up in Milton's eyes again. "I thought... thank goodness, it turns out it wasn't a fatal illness..."

At this moment, many students were cheering. It was not until Professor McGonagall tapped her glass again that they quieted down.

"Although it is not the worst news, do not forget that we still have not found the cause."

Dumbledore pressed his hands downward.

"I still hope that students will remain vigilant. If anyone discovers any relevant clues, you are welcome to come to me or the other professors. I believe that neither I nor the other professors will be stingy in awarding house points."