At the center of the professors' table sat a pinkish-purple figure who seemed to have been gone for ages. Smiling pleasantly, he held a bottle of wine as he enthusiastically said something to McGonagall.
It was Dumbledore!
Dumbledore was back!
No one had mentioned it beforehand.
Yet when Ron, Harry, and every other Hogwarts student entered the Great Hall and saw that figure beneath the bright glow of the braziers and the dazzling starlight of the enchanted ceiling—dressed in pinkish-purple pajamas that cinched his aged, plump belly into rolls of fat—
The ideological shocks, turbulent thoughts, and wavering public sentiment of recent days—the restless atmosphere brewed up and intensified by it all—seemed to vanish in an instant.
Ron felt his heart drop back into his stomach.
Harry finally pulled his head out of his books. The dullness gradually left his eyes, restoring their liveliness, and he stared at the professors' table with undisguised delight.
The Gryffindor table quickly grew animated, with everyone excitedly whispering to one another.
Even at the Slytherin table, Malfoy's cheeks were slightly flushed. As he spoke to Goyle and Crabbe, he pointed toward the dais.
At the professors' table, McGonagall, who had been frowning constantly these past few days, to the point that her wrinkles had deepened noticeably, finally looked somewhat more relaxed. A wineglass had at last reappeared before her, filled with her favorite wine.
Hagrid's upper body was practically sprawled across the table. His enormous face was flushed red with excitement as he tried his best to strike up a conversation with Dumbledore.
Beside him, Snape was no longer wearing his usual long face. He slowly sidestepped Hagrid's movements, elegantly tucked his napkin into his collar, and set out knives and forks polished to a gleam.
This was the scene Vaughn saw when he