The uproar on Privet Drive continued, while far away, inside an ancient castle hidden among mountains and lakes, the atmosphere had also grown unusual.
Hogwarts.
Whispers echoed through the castle corridors, portraits murmured to one another, and suits of armor clattered louder than usual as people passed.
Even the staircases turned more frequently than usual, as though the ancient building itself felt uneasy.
The Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts seemed unusually crowded.
Normally, Dumbledore sat alone in this spacious circular room, reading and drinking tea. Occasionally, a professor came to report on their work, but there was always more than enough space.
Today, however, the usually spacious room clearly felt a little too small.
Professor McGonagall sat in the chair to Dumbledore's left, her lips pressed tightly together as she looked at the open book in her hands.
Snape stood beside the fireplace, his expression somewhat dark, with a book in his hands as well.
Hagrid sat on a stool that clearly could not bear his weight, his enormous body hunched up. He alone took up most of the Headmaster's Office.
His huge hands also held a book, with the same cover as everyone else's: a little boy wearing round glasses, a lightning-shaped scar clearly visible on his forehead.
It was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part One.
This was already the fourth copy in the Headmaster's Office. Dumbledore had somehow obtained four copies at once and had handed one to each of the professors when they arrived.
For nearly three hours of silence, there had been only the sound of turning pages, occasionally interrupted by a gasp or a hushed "Merlin."
Once everyone had finished reading, McGonagall was the first to speak. "Albus, who is Allen Vane?"
Dumbledore leaned back in his high-backed chair, his blue eyes flickering behind his Half-moon Spectacles, his fingertips pressed together like an old professor listening to a student speak.
But his expression lacked its usual ease. Clearly, this book had troubled him greatly.
At Professor McGonagall's question, he could only shake his head to indicate that he did not know.
Then Dumbledore turned his gaze toward the fireplace. "Severus?"
Snape slowly raised his eyes, his tone rather inscrutable. "This book... describes my behavior in Potions Class in far too much detail."
He paused, then added, "It even includes some of my inner feelings."
McGonagall turned sharply. "The parts about your thoughts?"
Snape did not look at her, only stared at Dumbledore. "The book says, [Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked at him. Snape, of course, was not pleased.]"
"You know, Dumbledore-" Snape stared at Dumbledore, his lips moving soundlessly.
Of course, Dumbledore understood what Snape meant. Snape had said, "Occlumency."
Hagrid did not notice the little exchange between Dumbledore and Snape. He sniffed. "Same for me. The book says Harry's uncle called Dumbledore a mad old man."
"I really was furious at the time, and I instinctively tried to turn his son into a pig."
"The book even describes me using that pink umbrella. You know..."
He did not finish, but everyone knew exactly what the umbrella was.
Silence fell over the Headmaster's Office for a moment, broken only by the occasional sound of Fawkes the phoenix uneasily rubbing his beak against the tree trunk.
Hagrid took a moment before saying gruffly, "But, everyone... what if this book just happened to guess some details right?"
"I mean, some people might really be more observant..."
Snape interrupted him. "But what about our thoughts? Can those be determined through observation too?"
McGonagall's lips moved as though she wanted to say something, but in the end, all that escaped was a quiet sigh.
Dumbledore had been listening quietly, his eyes lowered, his fingertips still lightly pressed together.
Now he stood and walked slowly to the window.
Outside lay the twilight of Hogwarts. A dim gleam shimmered on the surface of the Black Lake, and the distant Forbidden Forest cast long shadows in the fading light.
"This book is only the first volume. Perhaps-no, there will certainly be a second." His voice carried a rare trace of weariness.
"Which means," McGonagall took over, a note of gravity in her voice.
"The author of this book, or rather, its recorder, is still gathering information. Perhaps even now, as we speak-"
"He may be watching," Snape said.
Hagrid's face went pale. "You mean... someone's watching us now? Right now? Like someone peeking through the window?"
"Worse than peeking," Professor McGonagall said solemnly. "If he can even record our thoughts... then this 'observation' may not mean watching with the naked eye."
"Legilimency?" Snape said slowly.
"It doesn't seem so." Dumbledore shook his head. "Legilimency requires direct eye contact."
"Forgive my immodesty-I am certain the author could not have used Legilimency on me without my noticing."
He walked back to the desk and, under everyone's gaze, picked up his copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part One, and gently turned to the first page.
"Perhaps we need to return to that time..." he murmured to himself.
"What?" Hagrid asked in confusion.
Dumbledore put down the book and drew his wand from his robe pocket.
"Yes, we need to go back once more." He seemed to have made up his mind.
Fawkes stood on his perch by the door and gave a low cry, a peculiar solemnity in his voice.
Dumbledore walked over to the Pensieve and pressed the tip of his wand to his temple.
Everyone in the room fell silent, even softening their breathing.
A silvery-white strand of something like thread was slowly drawn from Dumbledore's temple.
It quivered slightly at the tip of his wand, giving off a gentle sheen. Then, with a light flick from Dumbledore, it fell into the stone basin.
The silvery-white memory swirled slowly in the basin like a cloud that had been scattered.
"This is my entire memory of that night eleven years ago." Dumbledore's voice was calm and clear, his gaze passing over every professor present.
"From my arrival at 4 Privet Drive to the moment I placed that letter beside the baby's blankets and turned to leave-everything in between is here."
"Let us go in together and see whether there was a pair of eyes in these memories that I never noticed."
Everyone nodded.
McGonagall stepped forward first, straightening her robes before taking her place beside the Pensieve.
Snape followed her over, while Hagrid wiped his eyes, rose from the poor stool, and walked over to the Pensieve.
Dumbledore moved his wand away from his temple, then extended his other hand, gesturing for them to gather around.
"All together," he said.
His fingers lightly touched the swirling silver substance, with McGonagall's hand following close behind, then Snape's and Hagrid's.
A series of illusory scenes flashed rapidly past their eyes in fragments. Then, as though finding an anchor, the scene before them solidified into reality in an instant.
They stood at the street corner opposite 4 Privet Drive, with yellow lamplight spilling onto the pavement.
They were all like ghosts drifting at the edge of reality. They could see one another and everything around them, but no one could see them.
"This was eleven years ago," came Dumbledore's voice. "Hagrid is on his way here on that flying motorcycle now."
"My past self should have just arrived on Privet Drive."
As soon as he finished speaking, a streetlamp in the distance abruptly went out.
Everyone looked up. At the end of the road appeared a tall, thin figure in a purple cloak, holding up something like a lighter.
They turned to look at the Dumbledore beside them, and a trace of reminiscence flashed through his eyes.
"Ah, that was me back then..."
Then another streetlamp went out. Soon, twelve streetlamps had gone out one after another, leaving only a cat's eyes shining in the darkness.
The Dumbledore in the memory approached the cat on the wall and sat down beside her.
Everyone watched the scene in silence, suddenly recalling the contents of the book.
[He did not look at the cat, but after a while he spoke to it.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."]
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall," said the Dumbledore in the memory before them.
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together and turned to look at Dumbledore beside her.
But to her surprise, she found that Dumbledore had left her side at some point.
Dumbledore had already moved beside the Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall in the memory.
His gaze did not linger on the two of them. Instead, he looked around, trying to find any watcher who might be lurking in the shadows.
Seeing this, the other three followed him and examined their surroundings.
But contrary to their hopes, there was nothing unusual around them.
After a while, a low rumble came from the sky.
An enormous motorcycle swooped down out of the clouds, its engine so loud that the roadside letterboxes shook.
The Hagrid in the memory straddled the motorcycle, tightly holding a bundle of blankets in his arms.
He clumsily dismounted and carefully cradled the baby wrapped in the blankets, as though it were the most fragile thing in the world.
At the sight of the little bundle in his younger self's hands, Hagrid sniffed, his voice muffled. "That... that's Harry."
The Hagrid and Dumbledore in the memory exchanged a few words. Finally, the Dumbledore in the memory took Harry in his arms and laid him on the doorstep.
Then he took a letter from his cloak and tucked it into Harry's blankets.
At that moment, the observing McGonagall suddenly spoke. "Wait. This passage in the book..."
As soon as she spoke, the words from the book flashed through almost everyone's minds at once.
[The three of them stood there, gazing at the little bundle for a full minute. Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the light that usually shone in Dumbledore's eyes had gone out.]
And at that very moment, the Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid in the memory were indeed gazing at the little bundle.
Then they left Privet Drive separately.
The scene before them grew insubstantial. The next moment, they found themselves back in the Headmaster's Office.
"There was nothing unusual," Snape said, shaking his head.
"Indeed..." Dumbledore sounded somewhat disappointed.
"But fortunately, we have at least ruled out the possibility that someone was watching us."
The corners of his mouth lifted as he spoke with a slight smile.
Just then, Professor McGonagall suddenly spoke with hesitation:
"By the way, Albus."
"What is it?" Dumbledore looked at Professor McGonagall with a smile.
"I heard... you're going to be sued? Apparently it's the S.P.U.W. organization. They seem to have already reported you to the Ministry of Magic, and the Ministry has begun processing the complaint..."
As Dumbledore listened, his smile gradually vanished.