Upon hearing Dumbledore's words, McGonagall looked away from Quirrell's face, nodded, and said nothing more.
Then Dumbledore immediately seized the opportunity and continued, "I'll go check the Gori first and see what he'll say this time. If necessary, I can disable his magic to ensure safety."
As McGonagall listened to Dumbledore's words, she suddenly realized something was wrong.
What does it mean to disable magic to ensure safety?
Is this a plan to let him move in?
She opened her mouth, about to say something, but Dumbledore had already stood up.
"Alright, that's settled for now. I'll go check on the Vampire and also have someone inquire about Hogsmeade."
After saying that, he didn't give McGonagall a chance to speak again and walked towards the door.
Quirrell followed almost reflexively, walking much faster than usual, clearly not wanting to be in the same space as McGonagall.
The office door closed behind them with a dull thud.
In the blink of an eye, only the four deans of the academy remained in the room.
McGonagall sat there, her lips pressed into a thin line, staring at the closed door for a long while.
Flitwick jumped off the chair, straightened his robes, and his expression relaxed somewhat.
Professor Sprout also stood up, nodded slightly to McGonagall, and then walked towards the door.
Snape followed suit, slowly rising from the corner. Since Harry wasn't involved, Snape felt much relieved and prepared to return to his office to rest.
In any case, with Dumbledore's return, the four heads of the house were much more relaxed. After all, even if the sky were to fall now, the big guy would be there to hold it up.
Deep in the Forbidden Forest, it gets dark earlier than outside.
The tall, overlapping canopies blocked most of the light, with only a few streaks of dim, yellowish light leaking through the gaps and casting dappled shadows on the moss-covered ground.
The deeper you go, the stronger the damp, earthy smell in the air becomes, mixed with rotting leaves and some indescribable fishy odor.
Dumbledore walked ahead at a leisurely pace, the hem of his white robe occasionally brushing against low bushes, picking up a few small, withered leaves.
Quirrell followed half a step behind him, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the shadows of the trees on either side, his hands hanging at his sides with his fingertips slightly bent, as if ready to draw his wand at any moment.
The two walked along the barely visible path, turning past a few crooked old oak trees, and finally stopped in front of the cave covered with vines and moss.
The cave entrance was unchanged from the last time I came. The vines that had been cut off had sprouted new buds from the edges, and the slender tendrils clung to the stone wall, gleaming with a light green luster in the dim light.
Dumbledore paused for a moment at the entrance of the cave, as if examining the magical traps he had set up, before stepping inside.
The light inside the cave was dimmer than outside, with only a small area illuminated by the sunlight filtering through a crack in the ceiling.
Hagrid was squatting at the back, holding a large earthenware jar, feeding his Vampire minions.
The henchmen huddled against the wall, their complexions much better than in the past few days. Some of them had managed to maintain their human forms fairly well, at least they hadn't turned into bats and collapsed on the ground.
However, Hagrid was clearly dissatisfied, sighing as he fed him.
In the Gori, he sits in the deepest corner of the cave, leaning against the stone wall, his posture composed.
He was wearing a worn but neat Gryffindor robe, which Hagrid probably found somewhere and gave to him.
In the Gori, his hands are resting on his knees, and his expression is as calm as if he were drinking tea in his own living room.
He showed no signs of the urgency of being hunted or the anxiety of being imprisoned; in fact, he seemed more relaxed than when Dumbledore saw him.
Dumbledore scrutinized him for a moment; his deep blue eyes appeared exceptionally profound in the dim light.
Then he turned to Hagrid and Quirrell and said, "You two go out for a bit, I need to talk to Gori alone."
Quirrell almost reflexively headed outside, walking much faster than when he arrived, clearly not wanting to linger in this place.
Hagrid hesitated for a moment.
He looked down at the pottery jar in his hand, then glanced back in the direction of the Gori. His lips moved, but he couldn't help himself. " Headmaster Dumbledore, it's been very well-behaved in the Gori lately. It's stayed in its cave and hasn't caused any trouble. Those Vampire that came looking for trouble have all been driven away."
He spoke with a cautious pleading tone, as if he were speaking on behalf of his own pet.
Gori in the corner, Geli's lips twitched slightly when he heard Hagrid's words.
He looked at Hagrid, his gaze softening slightly, but that softening quickly turned into helplessness.
The more Hagrid spoke, the more it sounded like he was telling someone to treat their pet well. What did he mean by "well-behaved"? He was a dignified elder of a Vampire clan; when did he ever need others to describe him as "well-behaved"?
Dumbledore nodded, his tone gentle. "I will seriously consider your opinion, Hagrid."
Upon hearing this, Hagrid's expression seemed to show both relief and uncertainty. In the end, he put the pottery jar on the ground and turned to walk towards the cave entrance.
His footsteps made a dull thud on the gravel, and after he bent over and crawled out of the hole, the sound of his footsteps quickly faded into the distance.
Only Dumbledore and Gori remained in the cave, along with their Vampire underlings huddled in the corner.
Dumbledore glanced at his underlings, then turned his gaze back to Gori.
I understand what he means from the Gori.
He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over his underlings. He didn't chant any incantations, nor did he make any unnecessary movements; he simply glanced at them. One by one, the underlings who had been keeping their eyes open collapsed, their bodies slumped against the wall, their eyes closed, their breathing becoming even, as if they had fallen into a deep sleep.
"It seems that being confined here hasn't made your magic regress," Dumbledore said calmly.
The Gori modestly shook his head. "Just a little trick. Vampire cannot disobey higher-ranking Vampire, whether in thought or life; it's something etched in their blood."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, as if savoring the meaning behind those words, then said, "Perhaps it was once so. Recently I've heard that some Vampire have other ideas, such as Ulric."
When I heard that name in the Gori, my gaze flickered slightly.
"As expected of Dumbledore, he got the news so quickly." There was a hint of self-deprecation in his tone, as if he were lamenting, "It's a pity I didn't get this news sooner, otherwise I wouldn't be in such a hurry to find the Child of Prophecy. There's an old Eastern saying, 'To fight external enemies, one must first pacify internal strife.'"