Reasoning, Confrontation, and Parseltongue (I)

A man stood before the window of the Headmaster's Office. His silver-white hair and beard gleamed coldly beneath the moonlight, like a frozen waterfall. His hands were clasped behind his back, his posture relaxed, but behind his spectacles, those blue eyes were deeper and heavier than usual.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he said.

Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and entered. Her face was grim, her lips pressed into a thin line, her chin slightly raised—that was the expression she wore when she was forcing herself to stay upright and not collapse.

"Albus," she said from the doorway without stepping farther inside, "the Ministry of Magic has sent notice. The Wizengamot hearing will be at nine o'clock in the morning, five days from now. Fudge has given you five days to gather evidence."

Dumbledore nodded. "Minerva, you have worked hard these past few days. As for the school, discuss matters with Severus and Filius and handle them together. As for Lockhart—" He paused. "For now, do not let him touch any details related to the Chamber of Secrets investigation."

McGonagall frowned, but did not ask why.

"What do you intend to do about Hagrid?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, I will go to the Ministry of Magic and speak with the people from the Tribunal Office. I think they may still be willing to show this old face of mine a little courtesy," Dumbledore said. "After all, the situation is clear. There is insufficient evidence to convict him. That is the bottom line."

"And the Chamber of Secrets?"

Dumbledore fell silent for several seconds. Outside the window, the treetops of the Forbidden Forest swayed faintly in the wind, like the enormous black lung of some breathing creature.

"Someone is laying a very large trap," he said. "Hagrid