Dumbledore indeed somewhat in the wrong.
As the headmaster, Hagrid entrusted a Vampire elder to Hagrid's care in the Forbidden Forest without consulting the vice-headmaster beforehand or giving a formal notification afterward, only vaguely mentioning that "some things need to be taken care of."
He knew Minerva McGonagall's personality all too well; she could accept a dangerous secret, but she could never accept being the last person to know.
McGonagall continued, her tone growing increasingly harsh. "A Vampire, or some kind of elder, lives in the Forbidden Forest, on the edge of the students' usual area, guarded by a hunting ground with absolutely no magical abilities. I suppose you know he's a dark creature, a guy who lives on human blood?"
After listening to McGonagall's explanation, Dumbledore spoke up, saying, "That's indeed not quite right. But there's a Prophecy about Vampire that I need to figure out— Prophecy about the student."
" Prophecy?" McGonagall frowned.
Upon hearing those two words, her momentum noticeably faltered. Prophecy that Dumbledore would single out couldn't possibly be something a random street hustler would spout; it must have been made by a true prophet.
And the prophet's Prophecy will surely come true.
Although McGonagall never believed Trelawney, who was a heavy drinker all day, and even doubted her qualifications to teach at Hogwarts, feeling that Filch was inferior to Filch, who at least diligently performed her duties, McGonagall believed in Prophecy and in prophets. After all, she had seen living prophets, though not upright ones.
Seeing that McGonagall had quieted down, but her gaze was still fixed on them, waiting for a more in-depth explanation, the other deans of the colleges did the same.
Snape sat in the corner, and when he heard the word " Prophecy," his expression changed, becoming complex, a mixture of wariness and a kind of undisguised disgust.
He probably remembered the Prophecy that had killed Lily.
That incomplete Prophecy led Voldemort to target the Potter family, and also caused Snape to live with an inescapable sense of guilt for a long time.
Dumbledore continued, " The Vampire, and perhaps the Werewolf, are looking for a first-year student. According to Prophecy, that student will be able to end the thousand-year curse on Vampire and Werewolf."
After those words were spoken, the office was silent for a few seconds.
Then Snape chuckled.
The laughter wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet room, carrying an undisguised mockery. "End the curse? A first-year student? A curse that so many great wizards Potions Master haven't been able to break over the years, and a first-year student?"
He tilted his head slightly, a cold glint in his eyes. "If this Prophecy was made by a true prophet, it must have been made by someone who was drunk."
Snape habitually dragged out the last syllables of his words, each one sounding as if coated with frost.
Professor Flitwick, sitting in his chair with his toes barely touching the ground, nodded in agreement after hearing Snape's words.
His voice was much gentler than Snape's, carrying the cautious tone characteristic of an old scholar facing a bizarre claim. "I think the Vampire might have misheard, or misjudged the state. I've heard that prophets are in a similar state when they make Prophecy as if they're drunk; they might have misjudged, and it might just be drunken talk."
McGonagall disagreed as well.
She placed her hands on the table, her tone crisp and decisive. "The curse of Vampire and Werewolf is a Bloodline Curse, which neither Potions nor magic can break. Even Wolfsbane Potion Potions, considered the pinnacle of Potions art, can only suppress the Werewolf's loss of control after transformation, but cannot stop the Transfiguration."
She paused, shifting her gaze from Dumbledore's face to the others present. "This Vampire is probably stalling for time. I think it would be best to send him to Azkaban and have the Dementor keep an eye on him."
As those words were spoken, Snape, sitting in the corner, twitched his lips slightly, a very small movement, as if to say, "Finally, someone said something serious."
Seeing the professors' objections, Dumbledore explained helplessly, "I've done some research on Prophecy Prophecy, and it does exist. Furthermore, as far as I know, while this prophet drinks, he's not an alcoholic, so I believe the Prophecy is reliable."
He raised his hand in a reassuring gesture, adding, "Of course, the Prophecy doesn't mean that a first-year wizard can solve it right now; it just means he can. Perhaps it won't be solved for hundreds of years after he becomes Vampire."
Dumbledore speaks slowly, each word carefully chosen, so that he neither sounds perfunctory nor forces anyone to believe him.
The group exchanged glances.
Dumbledore had explained it to this extent, and there was no reason to refute it, but he still couldn't quite believe it.
Flitwick tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest of the chair. Professor Sprout, who hadn't said much, was now only slightly frowning, seemingly still processing the information he had just received.
Quirrell then raised his hand to speak.
After all, he was the youngest and lowest-ranking person present, and his words carried little weight. He had to wait until all the deans had finished speaking before he could speak.
He carefully chose his words, speaking softly with a hint of "I'm just adding some background information": "I was there. The Vampire were indeed targeting a group of first-year wizards. After stopping me, the Vampire elder attacked a carriage full of first-year wizards."
"Who is it?" McGonagall pressed, and the other deans of the academy also looked at Quirrell with curiosity.
Quirrell glanced at Dumbledore, Dumbledore didn't respond, but the gist of it was that there was no need to keep it a secret any longer.
Quirrell then spoke up, "The carriage was crowded at the time, including Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Herman Horace, Draco Malfoy, Hugo Granger, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Neville Longbottom."
As Quirrell rattled off a string of names, Flitwick couldn't help but scoff, "Is the carriage really that big? Are they all having a party together?"
Snape suddenly interrupted Flitwick's rant.
His expression turned serious the moment he heard Harry's name.
He sat up straight, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore, and pressed, "Whom does the Prophecy refer to?"
Snape looked at Dumbledore, already making plans in his mind.
If Dumbledore says the Prophecy points to Harry, then he'll have to figure out how to interrogate that Vampire elder named Ginger under Dumbledore's nose, how much Veritaserum Vampire needs to reliably administer, and how many people actually know the Prophecy, so he can deal with them one by one.
Dumbledore replied, " The Gori doesn't explicitly tell me who it is yet. But it was assumed to be Neville, and the Gori didn't object. His attitude makes me unsure."