Reasoning, Confrontation, and Parseltongue (IV)

Daphne raised her head, thought back for a moment, then frowned.

"She said—'Your accusations have no evidence.'"

"Exactly." Madara's voice remained calm. "She didn't say, 'I believe Cass,' nor did she say, 'I understand your suspicions.' What she said was, 'There's no evidence.' She wasn't considering this from Gryffindor's perspective. She was considering it from the acting headmistress's perspective. She had to present an image of 'fairness and impartiality' where everyone could see it. And she did. But when she said that, she put particular emphasis on the words 'evidence.'"

Draco set down his teacup and leaned back in his chair. "Because Harry and the others couldn't produce any evidence." He looked at the Water Mirror as though he were watching a painting whose ending he already knew.

The image in the Water Mirror gradually blurred. McGonagall sat alone in that temporary office, the firelight dancing across her face and revealing the exhaustion she had forcibly suppressed.

Madara's projection lifted a hand and gave it a light wave. The Water Mirror vanished soundlessly, leaving behind only a patch of shifting shadows.

"McGonagall has no choice left. If she wants to preserve Dumbledore's position, she has to walk a tightrope between Slytherin and Gryffindor. But her students—the Gryffindor fools she most wants to protect—are personally cutting that rope." He slowly rose to his feet, his scarlet Sharingan sweeping over everyone seated along both sides of the long table.

Moonlight emerged from behind the clouds outside, illuminating the dungeon's narrow iron-barred window like a half-open eye. The treetops of the Forbidden Forest swayed gently in the wind, like countless strings being plucked.

In the corridor, Harry's footsteps were heavy, each one feeling as though he were stepping on cotton. Ron grumbled behind him, repeating the same lines over and over: "Snape definitely