Dumbledore, a rare look of confusion appearing in his blue eyes.
"Don't the members of the Acolytes all have firm beliefs?" he finally asked, his tone hesitant.
"Those who joined Acolytes and have remained loyal to it until now must genuinely believe in Acolytes's ideology."
How could he be associating with Death Eaters?
Snape gave a mocking smile. "Yes, Dumbledore. How did you manage to be so hated?"
Dumbledore fell silent again, unusually lowering his eyes as if deep in thought.
Fawkes shifted restlessly on the perch, letting out a low groan, as if expressing some unspeakable emotion on behalf of its master.
Snape shrugged and pushed the report toward the center of the table.
"The man in the black robes who's leading the group is called Kraft. He was a member of the Acolytes in his early years, and he held a fairly high position."
"Ever since Credence Byrburne betrayed the Acolytes, he has been promoted to senior adjutant and become one of Grindelwald's right-hand men."
Dumbledore picked up the report, his gaze lingered on a certain word, then he closed the paper and put it back on the table.
" Credence..." he murmured the name, his voice tinged with sorrow.
A glint of tears welled up in his blue eyes, as if he were reminiscing about something.
"What are you planning to do?" Snape asked, seemingly oblivious to the situation.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, wiping his eyes. "Sorry, I lost my composure."
"As people grow old, they inevitably become more sentimental. Severus, please forgive an old man's sudden melancholy."
The firelight flickered across his face, making his wrinkles appear even deeper. "I'll find an opportunity to have a proper talk with Grindelwald."
Snape gave Dumbledore a deep look, chuckled, and turned to leave the Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore sat alone in the Headmaster's Office, silently facing the now-darkened fireplace.
Meanwhile, the outside world was far from peaceful, and the Wizarding World's opinions did not calm down just because Hogwarts had returned to normal.
Rumors about the "return of the Dark Lord " spread like wildfire throughout every corner of the Wizarding World.
Inside the Leaky Cauldron, several wizards dressed in old robes sat huddled together, speaking in hushed tones:
"Have you heard? It's said that those Death Eaters who attacked Hogwarts the other day were sent by the You-Know-Who. They said the Master will be back soon."
"Nonsense," the person on the other end immediately retorted. "If the You-Know-Who really had returned, how could he have sent only such a small number of people?"
"Then how do you explain those Death Eaters? Were they insane? Why did they go and attack Hogwarts on their own?"
"Perhaps they acted on their own initiative..."
"Going to your death on your own initiative? Don't try to run away! Dumbledore himself said that the You-Know-Who is not dead..."
The atmosphere in Knockturn Alley has become unusually subtle these past few days.
Those faces that usually hide in the shadows and rarely show themselves even during the day have recently become more numerous.
The alley was bustling with people, much more lively than usual. Some said it was the Death Eaters who had been lying in wait for years making secret contacts, while others said they simply wanted to join in the fun and see how things were going.
There were even queues outside the Borgin and Burkes, which was quite a sight in that alley.
"Business has been fantastic these past few days, ah, it's wonderful," Mr. Borgin said to his shop assistant, wiping a layer of dust off the counter.
"Everyone wants to buy something for 'self-defense.' Guess what? Even those upright wizards who used to think my place was too 'gloomy' have sneaked over here."
"Sigh, I really hope the Dark Lord stays in that 'almost returning but never actually returning' state forever."
The shop assistant didn't reply, just rolled his eyes and continued arranging the rows of dimly lit lockets on the shelf.
The situation on Diagon Alley, however, is completely different.
In Flourish and Blotts ' window display, the most prominent spot is no longer any textbook on Charms, but rows of neatly stacked supplements to The Daily Prophet.
The front page was filled with images of that figure wearing a fox mask and a black trench coat.
A hand-drawn sketch is posted at the shop entrance, depicting the outline of a human figure wearing a trench coat and a mask, with the words "Who is he?" written in cursive script next to it.
Blotts and Flourish were extremely busy.
"Another customer has asked about the masked man."
Flourish peeked out from behind the counter and handed a book to a young witch. "That's right, even people in Gaul are asking about it."
Blotts wiped the sweat from his brow and muttered, "I actually hope he buys a few books at Flourish and Blotts next time, so I can see them for myself."
The rumors became increasingly outrageous as they spread.
Some say that the masked man is the last descendant of an ancient family who has lived in seclusion for hundreds of years and only re-emerged because of the crisis at Hogwarts.
Some say he was Dumbledore's secret successor, having undergone special training on a secluded island since he was five years old.
Some say he is a mysterious wizard from the East, and that his wand is made of a type of wood that cannot be found in England at all.
Of course, most speculations pointed to the most famous and powerful wizards of the time.
This forced many well-known and powerful figures in the Wizarding World to issue public statements.
The first to step forward was Kingsley Shacklebolt, who published a short letter in the Daily Prophet:
"I was on duty at the Ministry of Magic on the day of the attack and did not leave. Please do not confuse me with that mysterious masked man."
Immediately afterwards, Alastor Moody also spoke up, saying that someone in a bar asked him if he was the masked man.
Moody glared at her with his magical eye and said in a deep voice, "Do you think I'm the kind of person who would wear a fox mask? If I were to cover my face, I'd only use a proper Disillusionment Charm."
Even some reclusive old wizards were forced to show their faces.
A witch living in the Wales mountains, known for her research on dragons, appeared impatient during an interview:
"No, it wasn't me! I was feeding a Hungarian Horntail that day! Do you think I could be gracefully floating in the air while wearing a trench coat?!"
Immediately, the entire Wizarding World's social circles were buzzing with jokes: "I heard someone guessed it was you." "Come on, I can't even properly cast the Levitation Charm."
Of course, some people seriously speculate that perhaps the masked man is not even on the Great Britain wizarding register.
Perhaps he is a wizard who has traveled abroad for many years and has never registered with the Ministry of Magic.
This explanation was unexpectedly popular because it explained why no one knew his origins.
But most of the Hogwarts students could only read about this commotion in the newspapers brought by owls.
Aside from the occasional headline in the newspaper brought by the owl, most students were preoccupied with two other things: the final exams and the postponed Quidditch.
During the week of final exams, the corridors were filled with students carrying books and running back and forth.
Hermione practically lived in the library, while Ron spent two whole days smearing ink from his quill all over his face.
But the final exams finally arrived.
Written tests, practical exercises, Potions- making... Within a week, all grades underwent a round of high-intensity testing.
On the afternoon of the day the last Charms was over, the entire castle seemed to have been released from its springs, with cheers and running footsteps echoing throughout the corridors.
"I'm definitely going to fail." Ron slumped onto the sofa in the common room after finishing his Charms, looking utterly hopeless.
Harry wiped his broom, which was so clean it could be used as a mirror, and comforted him, "You did pretty well on your last test."
"Last time was last time. This time, Professor Flitwick asked about a variant of the Levitation Charm, and I didn't even remember its name."
Hermione looked up from her book, about to correct him, when Ron quickly raised his hands. "Please, Hermione, don't tell me to go back to the book."
Hermione rolled her eyes and buried her face back into the pages of her book.
In the days following the exams, the atmosphere in the castle suddenly became much more relaxed.
Younger students began to explore in groups, searching for places they hadn't had time to visit during the semester.