Outside the shops in Diagon Alley, wizards gathered in twos and threes, flipping through the newspapers they had just bought, their voices rising and falling in discussion.
A retired Auror standing in front of Flourish and Blotts folded his newspaper and put it in his pocket, then said to the young man squatting next to him studying the catalog in the window:
"That masked man, I'm certain he's not from the Ministry of Magic. I've worked there for thirty years, and there's no one like him among the Auror."
"Could he be a member of the Order of the Phoenix?" the young man asked.
" The Order of the Phoenix has been disbanded for almost ten years." The retired Auror shook his head.
"Even if there are still people contacting each other privately, it's impossible for such a young masked person to suddenly appear with such ruthless methods."
"So who exactly is he?"
"Who knows? Maybe he's a descendant of some reclusive family. I've even heard some people say he's a trump card that Dumbledore been secretly cultivating."
"Do you think Dumbledore would hide someone of that caliber in the shadows? He's always been aboveboard."
"That's hard to say. Maybe he's not a Great Britain wizard at all, but came from Europe."
"Do you think he might be a student of some legendary figure? Grindelwald used to have a very capable subordinate who disappeared later; could it be that he was his student?"
Just then, someone nearby suddenly interjected, "I'm telling you, don't tell anyone. This person was seen in St Margaret's Bay before."
" St Margaret's Bay? Isn't that a place in the Muggle world?"
"You guys don't know this, do you? Let me tell you..."
Discussions were equally lively in Hogsmeade.
At the Three Broomsticks, Madam Rosmerta had to temporarily convert the long table, which was usually used to store drinks, into a reading area.
That afternoon, at least four groups of guests occupied those seats with newspapers and sketchbooks, drinking Butterbeer and discussing whether the fox-masked man was a descendant of some reclusive family.
"Did you notice his wand?" A wizard wearing a monocle put down his wine glass and tapped the newspaper on the table with his knuckles.
"My seat that day was very close to the light screen. Although the picture wasn't particularly clear, I could see that the staff seemed to be glowing through something."
"You mean his wand has special materials?" the person on the other end asked.
"I'm not sure, but it certainly doesn't resemble common wood."
Rumors about St Margaret's Bay also began to appear sporadically in some tabloids.
It started as an unremarkable short article titled "Sighting of a Mysterious Wizard on Kent Beach," mentioning a green light and sounds of fighting on the beach that night.
At first, not many people noticed, but as the fox-masked man's popularity continued to rise, some people dug up that report and connected it to the battle at Hogwarts.
But the Ministry of Magic quickly suppressed any discussions about St Margaret's Bay.
The Ministry of Magic's operations became unusually efficient after this incident.
Although Fudge was still a hundred times unwilling, the sight of the students collapsing in the Great Hall Hogwarts that day, seen through the light screen, still made him finish approving the "unconventional security budget" document overnight.
The next morning, a bag full of Galleon had already been delivered to Hogwarts ' Treasury Office via the Ministry of Magic's express mail.
Also arriving in the same batch was the special permit for outsourced security, stamped with Fudge's ministerial seal and countersigned by Amelia Borns.
When McGonagall received the documents, she showed a rare hint of surprise.
I thought it would take at least half a month.
She couldn't help but glance at the parchment a few more times as she placed it on Dumbledore's desk.
Dumbledore simply smiled and offered no comment.
Life at Hogwarts Castle became surprisingly peaceful, with most students choosing not to leave, although a few Howler were still Accio in the corridors.
In fact, the Hogwarts Express did not run an extra train as some parents had hoped, the day after the attack.
Dumbledore addressed a group of visiting parents at the school gate. Although his words were brief, his statement, "It's safer here than anywhere else," did indeed quiet many people down.
By the third day, the remaining students had resumed their normal routine, the long tables in the Great Hall were set up again, and the kitchen was serving three meals a day as usual.
Although the classes have been temporarily changed to self-study and Q&A sessions, at least the whole castle is no longer in a state of panic.
Meanwhile, the defense upgrades at Hogwarts were rapidly rolled out.
Professor Sprout accelerated the arrangement of a batch of defensive plants around the greenhouse.
Flitwick, along with several senior enchanting students, added new Protective Charm to several windows on the side of the castle.
Snape then prepared a batch of emergency compound medicines and stored them in the Hospital Wing, in addition to the existing stock.
In the days that followed, the atmosphere in the castle gradually returned to its normal rhythm.
Although you could occasionally hear people talking about the "fox mask" and "the blue eagle" while walking down the hallway, classes were still going on, and the final exams were getting closer and closer.
Ron was holed up in the Gryffindor Common Room, a half-read book, * the Standard Book of Spells *, lying in front of him. His head was still wrapped in bandages, but that didn't stop him from complaining:
" Hermione, do you really have to pronounce that line so clearly? ' Wingardium Leviosa,' I can recite it by heart now."
Hermione turned a page without looking up. "Then you should do it right."
Seamus leaned closer and asked in a low voice, "Do you think that person with the fox mask will reappear?"
Harry, who was sitting by the fireplace wiping the broom, looked up when he heard this. "I think so."
Ron looked at him curiously. "How did you know?"
Harry thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know, it's just a feeling..."
That evening, the corridors of Hogwarts fell silent, and the afterglow of the setting sun slanted in through the high windows, casting golden-red streaks of light on the stone floor.
Dumbledore sat in the Headmaster's Office, holding a cup of tea that had gone half-cold, gazing out the window at the now-calm Black Lake.
Snape stood before him, holding a research report that had just been transferred from the Ministry of Magic.
His expression remained as somber as ever, but his tone carried an unusual seriousness.
"The identity of the leader in black robes has been confirmed."
Dumbledore didn't turn around. "He's not Death Eaters?"
"No." Snape unfolded the report and placed it on the table.
"He did attend the early gatherings of the You-Know-Who, but he never truly joined the inner circle of the Death Eaters. His superiors were someone else."
Dumbledore finally turned around, his blue eyes showing not much surprise, but a hint of contemplation.
"His true identity is that of one of Grindelwald's former subordinates."
Snape said calmly.