Was it an illusion? Or...
Zhang Xiao actually felt a chill creep through him. If Ron really had mispronounced the spell, he seemed to have stumbled onto something extraordinary.
He buried the question in his heart. Now was not the time to pursue this secret, just as Hogwarts' motto said:
"Never tickle a sleeping dragon."
It warned students not to try to control powers they did not yet understand.
Zhang Xiao felt that if his guess was right, Dumbledore-and even the other wizards at the very pinnacle of the wizarding world-could not possibly be unaware of it.
The only reason they kept silent about it... was that it needed to remain a secret.
"Guys, are you all right?"
Zhang Xiao turned his attention back to them and asked weakly.
Ron was helping Harry up from the ground. At Zhang Xiao's question, he shouted:
"I'm fine, and Harry isn't hurt either. Poor Neville crashed straight into a rock. He's passed out."
Then he looked at Malfoy, who still seemed badly shaken, hesitated, and snorted:
"Malfoy, I never thought you had it in you to be brave."
Malfoy abruptly stopped trembling. He slowly picked himself up off the ground, lifted his chin, and declared haughtily:
"I'm one of the noble Sacred Twenty-Eight! Courage runs deep in our blood! What do you know? Weasley, do you even know what nobility is?"
Ron froze for a moment, then flew into a rage:
"Don't forget, I'm one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight too! Pah! You should've stayed on the ground, you obnoxious git!"
Malfoy stood rooted to the spot as though struck by lightning.
That's right! This annoying redhead was also part of the pure-blood aristocracy. He even seemed to be a distant relative.
Were pure-bloods still noble, then?
Like a wounded puppy, Malfoy turned to Zhang Xiao, hoping for support from the sidelines.
Zhang Xiao tilted his head toward the sky and whistled.
What lovely weather... what a lovely night it was...
Dumbledore strolled through the Forbidden Forest. As he advanced, even the faint whispers within the forest disappeared.
"Tom... I never imagined you were truly alive, much less that you would come here. I thought you would go on wandering the forests of Albania."
In the shade of a tree before him, a hooded figure, his entire body concealed in shadow, gave a low, rasping laugh.
"Yes, yes, Dumbledore. You've come to mock me, haven't you?
"The once-mighty Dark Lord is now nothing more than a pitiful maggot, forced to rely on something like this just to stay alive."
The black-robed figure raised a hand stained with gleaming silvery-white blood. He slowly brought his fingers to his cracked lips, making a series of unpleasant sucking noises.
A chilling anger filled Dumbledore's face as he said coldly:
"Tom, you have already failed once. If You Don't understand what truly constitutes power in this world,
"then no matter how many times you try, failure is all that awaits you!"
The black-robed man spread his arms like a skeleton bathing in moonlight:
"Here we go again, Dumbledore. Is it that same old 'love' of yours?
"How pitiful. You possess such immense power, yet you bind your own hands and feet with chains. Dumbledore, You Don't act...
"Because of your ridiculous agreement with the Centaurs, You Don't strike first... How absurd. You need only move a finger to kill me again, yet you willingly remain bound by those chains called rules."
The black-robed man stepped backward, burying himself in the shadows once more, leaving only his arrogant laughter behind:
"Dumbledore, you will never be able to kill me!
"One day, the Dark Mark will shine in the sky again, and the entire wizarding world will remember... what true terror is!
"I will return!"
Just as the man had said, Dumbledore watched him retreat without intervening. A trace of weariness and resolve suddenly appeared on his aged face.
The old man slowly lowered his head and murmured in a barely audible voice:
"Tom... that remains to be seen."
For the second time, Professor McGonagall began to loathe the school's Anti-Apparition Jinx. The elderly professor was already trembling with anger.
"Last time it was the Flying Class lawn, and now it's the Forbidden Forest!
"What next? Will they be underground next time?"
The moment the enormous Tiger-Dragon Roundel began shining in the sky, an ominous feeling had welled up inside Professor McGonagall. She hurriedly gathered the professors and rushed toward the scene.
At the same time, a sense of helplessness rose within her. This was the Forbidden Forest! Simply getting there would take time. Would they find young students strewn all over the ground by the time they arrived?
Her only comfort was that Dumbledore had promised her he would ensure the children's safety.
Professor McGonagall suddenly thought of the student who had broken her heart: Sirius Black.
He had been a little mischievous, but he had always been a good boy, inseparable from James Potter, along with Lupin and Peter.
How could he have done something like that?
She had thought of Black because she vaguely remembered that he owned a motorbike. It was fast enough to rival even the latest Broomstick models-perhaps faster!
Should I get one too? That way, if these children caused trouble again, I wouldn't be unable to reach them in time.
Professor McGonagall used these thoughts to distract herself from her unease. For some reason, this time she was deeply worried about the assurance given by the usually reliable Dumbledore.
She simply waved her wand:
"Accio broom!"
In her office, a well-maintained Comet 260 shot into the air with a whoosh, burst through the door, and flew toward McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall caught the broom, as though she had once again become the gifted Gryffindor Chaser of her youth.
She deftly swung herself onto the broom, lowered her body, and hurtled forward!
Snape watched Professor McGonagall fly away on her broom, his expression dark. He opened his mouth, but could only mutter a curse laden with endless resentment. (Note 1)
"Dumbledore! You old fool! You gave me your word!"
Seething with fury, Snape summoned a broom as well and flew toward the Forbidden Forest.
In the Forbidden Forest, Fawkes cocked his head, his gaze fixed on Zhang Xiao as though curious about something. Just then, Dumbledore slowly returned.
The earlier coldness had vanished from his face, replaced by a satisfied smile. Looking at the young students sprawled about nearby, he said with a smile:
"Look, Fawkes. They're all good children. They believe in their companions. You see, as long as they combine their strength, they can defeat even a monster far more powerful than themselves..."
Fawkes turned his head aside, unwilling to acknowledge this wretched old man who kept working the same bird to the bone.
But Dumbledore's very next words were:
"Hagrid seems to have run into some trouble... Fawkes, could you go and help him?"
Fuming! Chilled! Trembling!
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Note 1: Snape did ride a broom. In the first book, Quirrell jinxed Harry's broom, and Snape refereed the second Quidditch match.
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