Thousands of miles away, inside Hogwarts Castle, the Great Hall had descended into utter chaos.
At the Gryffindor table, Ron buried his face in his hands and let out a mournful groan at the half-empty plate before him.
"My mum sent me four Howlers in a row tonight."
"I hadn't even had a bite of dinner before I got yelled at four times. Four times!" he said in a voice utterly devoid of hope.
Fred leaned over from beside him, cast a slightly dubious glance at Ron's half-empty plate, and raised the envelope in his own hand.
"The two of us got even more letters. Mum wrote to everyone," George added with a wry smile.
"They're discussing whether to take us home from Hogwarts."
Seamus held the latest issue of the Daily Prophet, his eyes fixed on the front-page article.
"So Skeeter means Dumbledore knew there was something wrong with Quirrell from the start?"
"Not just that," Dean cut in, turning to the second page.
"She also says Dumbledore deliberately left Potter with the Dursley family so he could use him when he grew up."
"That's ridiculous," Neville said quietly, though his tone made it clear that he wasn't nearly as certain as his words suggested.
At the Ravenclaw Table, several older students huddled together, keeping their voices low.
"Have you all read the full version of that book?" a boy with glasses asked.
"Yes. I stayed up last night to finish it." The girl opposite him still found it rather unbelievable. "It's exactly like reality!"
"Then do you think Dumbledore really couldn't tell there was something wrong with Quirrell?"
"I don't know... but then again, how could the greatest wizard of our time not know that a professor at his own school was possessed by You-Know-Who?"
"Exactly. It makes no sense!"
"Thank goodness Quirrell's already disappeared. Otherwise, I'd be leaving school today..."
Things were just as chaotic over at Hufflepuff.
Susan clutched a letter from her aunt, her expression a tangle of conflicting feelings.
"My aunt says the Ministry of Magic is discussing this," she told Hannah Abbott beside her in a lowered voice.
"She said the entire Auror Office was dispatched a few nights ago, but she wouldn't tell me what exactly they went to do."
"A few nights ago?" Hannah's eyes widened. "No wonder I heard noises outside the castle a few nights ago. I thought it was thunder."
The atmosphere at the Slytherin table, however, was entirely different.
Malfoy sat in the middle of the long table with his chin raised, speaking to the Slytherins around him in a deliberately loud voice.
"Haven't you figured it out yet? Dumbledore's finally shown his true colours."
"My father told me ages ago that the old man was never a good person."
"He just puts on a kindly face to fool people. Everything he does behind the scenes is something shameful."
Malfoy continued slowly, deliberately drawing out his words. "After You-Know-Who fell, it was my father and several other School Governors who kept Hogwarts going. Otherwise, this school would have ceased to exist long ago."
"So the Malfoy family has far more say at Hogwarts than you imagine."
He surveyed those around him smugly. Seeing the attentive expressions on the surrounding Slytherins, his tone grew even more arrogant.
"And my father said that if Dumbledore's actions really endanger the school's reputation, the Board of Governors has the authority to replace the headmaster."
"In other words"-he paused, savouring the weight of those words-"the current headmaster could be replaced at any moment."
A few quiet laughs came from the Slytherins around him.
"Do you know what happened at the end of that book?" Malfoy raised his voice further, making sure more than half the Great Hall could hear him.
"Slytherin won the House Cup! It was a clear, unquestionable victory!"
"And then what? At the last moment, Dumbledore handed out a pile of extra points and practically forced the cup into Gryffindor's hands!"
He raised the book he held. The little boy with round glasses on the cover seemed to be smiling at him.
Malfoy scoffed. "Someone like that deserves to be called 'the greatest wizard of our time'? He talks about 'fairness' and 'justice', but everything he does in secret serves his own plans."
"He's a complete and utter hypocrite!"
At the Gryffindor table, Harry's ears began to burn.
His fists slowly clenched on the tabletop. He could feel Ron's and Seamus's eyes on him.
That article called him a pawn being used, everyone was beginning to doubt Dumbledore, and Malfoy was insulting him without mercy...
But Dumbledore had sent Hagrid to take him away from the Dursley family. He had told him what love meant and helped him understand the power of friendship and love.
Someone who truly wanted to use him wouldn't take the trouble to teach him those things.
And Malfoy was still talking. "And that Chosen One-"
He deliberately drew out the words. "He's actually stupid enough to keep defending him! Hahaha! He's been sold out and he's still helping count the money!"
Harry shot to his feet, and the entire Gryffindor table fell silent for a moment.
Harry looked across the long table, his gaze fixed directly on the Slytherins.
"Malfoy."
His voice wasn't loud, but it rang out with particular clarity in the suddenly quiet Great Hall.
Malfoy turned, saw Harry staring at him, and curled his lips into a thoroughly mocking smile.
"What? The Chosen One's finally willing to speak? I thought you were going to keep hiding in your shell."
Harry drew a deep breath. His heart was pounding, but he still strove to steady his voice.
"You say Dumbledore's using me, but have you ever considered that, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't even have known magic existed before I was eleven?"
"You think Dumbledore's a hypocrite? When you read about yourself sneaking off to tell on us in the book, did you think you looked like a hypocrite too?"
Malfoy's smile abruptly froze.
Of course he had read the passage about the midnight duel. He wished he could tear those pages out himself.
Now that Harry had brought it up in front of the whole school, his face instantly flushed a dark red with humiliation and anger.
"You-" Malfoy's voice suddenly rose. "What would someone who grew up in a cupboard know about real dignity? You don't even know what your parents looked like-"
"Draco!" Zabini frowned and warned him under his breath.
Malfoy seemed not to hear him, his eyes locked on Harry's face.
"You're just a discarded pawn tossed from one person to another, Potter. You don't even understand why you're alive!"
"You think Dumbledore's good to you? He's just using you. You're this stupid, and you still want to be the Chosen One?"
"You don't even-"
"Malfoy."
A voice filled with anger came from the Gryffindor table. Hermione closed the book in her hands and slowly stood.
"You've said so much just now. Was a single word of it true?" she challenged.
"You dare conclude that Dumbledore's using Potter based on one Daily Prophet article and a reporter's subjective speculation?"
"Then how are you any different from people under the Imperius Curse? They've lost their judgement. As for you, you really seem to have no brain at all."
Malfoy's expression darkened visibly.
"Granger," he said through gritted teeth, "don't think reading a few books means you can-"
"Can what?" Hermione interrupted, her voice rising slightly.
"Point out the holes in your stupid remarks? You really don't need to read many books for that. You just need a bit of a brain."
A few students in the Great Hall couldn't suppress their laughter.
Malfoy's face turned livid, but he soon recovered.
He narrowed his eyes, swept his gaze over Hermione's face, and slowly stretched his lips into a cruel smile.
"I don't need to argue with you."
"You're nothing but a-"
"Raised in the Muggle world-"
"Mudblood."
As the word left Malfoy's mouth, the expressions of several nearby Slytherins changed.
Harry clenched his fists, Ron's face instantly turned red, and Seamus's hand had already reached for his wand.
And just then-
"Malfoy."
A low, gloomy voice sounded behind them, every word carrying an icy weight of authority.
The entire Great Hall fell silent as though someone had pressed pause.
Snape stood diagonally behind the Slytherin table, his black robes casting a long, slender shadow in the light of ten thousand candles.
Not far behind him, Dumbledore approached alongside Professor McGonagall, with the other professors following them into the Great Hall.
Snape's face was slightly ashen, and a rare trace of anger showed in his usually vacant eyes.
"Get back to your seat! Twenty points from Slytherin."
Malfoy looked incredulous. "Professor, I was only-"
"Did you not understand me?" Snape came up to Malfoy and looked down at him with vacant eyes, making him shudder.
The colour instantly drained from Malfoy's face. He turned and glared fiercely at Hermione, then dropped back into his seat.
The students around them watched in fearful silence. Even those at the Slytherin table silently averted their eyes.
Harry stood beside the Gryffindor table, watching Snape walk past him.
But his gaze didn't linger on Snape. It soon settled on Dumbledore behind him.
He had too many doubts, too much confusion and hurt. He needed Dumbledore. He needed Dumbledore to give him an explanation.
But Dumbledore didn't look at Harry. He went straight to the staff table with Professor McGonagall and the others.
As Professor McGonagall passed the Gryffindor table, she glanced quickly at Harry and Hermione. Her lips moved slightly, as though saying, "Sit down."
Harry obediently sat. Ron immediately leaned over and whispered, "Malfoy's face practically turned green just now. I nearly laughed out loud."
Hermione didn't answer. Her gaze rested on Dumbledore, her brow faintly furrowed.
Dumbledore stopped in front of the central seat at the staff table, his gaze slowly passing over every face in the Great Hall.
Those faces were filled with all sorts of emotions:
Suspicion, confusion, fear, anger, curiosity, delight at another's misfortune-the list went on and on.
The Great Hall suddenly fell quiet, every whispered conversation dying away at once.
More than a thousand pairs of eyes focused on Dumbledore.
"Everyone," Dumbledore began, his voice gentle, as though he were having a heart-to-heart with old friends.
"I imagine you all read that article in today's Daily Prophet."
"Some of what it said concerned me."
He paused, a helpless smile appearing on his lips.
"I know Rita Skeeter is a talented journalist. She always makes her words sound so reasonable that it is difficult not to believe what she says is true."
"However, I see things somewhat differently."
Dumbledore rested both hands lightly on the edge of the table, his gaze passing over all the students.
"The claims being made outside are not true. I do bear responsibility for certain things, but they were not deliberate, nor did I ever intend to place any student in danger."
"As for the decision to place Harry Potter in the Dursley family's care, I had my considerations at the time."
"Perhaps it was not the best choice, but I have never regarded him as a tool to be used at will."
He turned his gaze towards Harry, a complicated tenderness in his eyes.
"You may doubt my words. That is perfectly normal."
"But there is something I would like you to witness for yourselves."
He straightened, his gaze sweeping over the entire Great Hall once more.
"In three days, I will hold a public inquiry in the Ministry Atrium."
"In front of the entire Ministry of Magic, all invited reporters, and anyone else willing to attend, I will take Veritaserum."
"You may ask me any questions you wish then."
"About Quirrell, about Harry Potter, about the Dark Lord, about those books, about anything concerning me."
"I will answer truthfully."