The afternoon in the Hogwarts Headmaster's office should have been peaceful.
Sunlight stread through the tall windows, dancing on the swirling silver of the Pensieve, the golden-red feathers of Fawkes, and the humming, peculiar silver instrunts.
However, a cold heaviness hung in the air, like the low pressure before a storm.
Bang!
The office door was slamd open.
Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, his bowler hat askew on his sweaty forehead, burst in like an eager bull, followed by a grim-faced Professor McGonagall.
"Albus!" Fudge's voice was almost a shout as he waved a copy of The Daily Prophet, its front page emblazoned with news of the attacks, the paper rustling loudly.
"This must stop! Imdiately! Now! Dozens of students have been petrified! In your school, right under your nose!"
Dumbledore looked up from behind his large desk; he first nodded to the Deputy Headmistress, signaling her to leave, and then said calmly, "Please sit, Cornelius. Would you like so tea? I understand your concerns…"
"Understand?"
Fudge didn't even look at the chair; instead, he leaned on the desk, body forward, spittle almost spraying onto the surface. "What good is understanding? The public demands an explanation! The Ministry of Magic needs to see action! Hogwarts can no longer be seen as a dangerous place that could kill students at any mont!"
Dumbledore looked at him, and Fudge's voice imdiately, unconsciously, lowered, carrying a hint of imperceptible apprehension and a desire to distance himself.
"So, Cornelius, what do you expect to do?"
Fudge seed to have been waiting for that very question; he imdiately straightened up, his voice becoming urgent and resolute. "It's simple! Hand over the culprit. We need soone who can quickly calm the situation—Rubeus Hagrid! He's right by the Forbidden Forest, isn't he? He was let off fifty years ago, but now the attacks have happened again—it's too much of a coincidence! Hand him over to , that will be the fastest way to reassure people and put parents at ease!"
The temperature in the office seed to drop several degrees.
Dumbledore's voice suddenly turned cold, carrying an undeniable authority. "Cornelius, Rubeus Hagrid is innocent. He was fifty years ago, and he still is now. I will not allow you to send an innocent man to Azkaban for political convenience."
Fudge's face instantly turned a purplish-red. "But you have to think of too! I'm under imnse pressure—I have to do sothing. The situation is out of control, and the Ministry won't just sit idly by. Soone has to bear the consequences!"
"Ah, Minister, Professor Dumbledore! What a 'tily' eting!"
A sickly sweet, artificial voice interjected.
The office door had been pushed open at so point. Professor McGonagall walked in again with a stern face, while Rita Skeeter leaned against the doorfra, a professional fake smile on her lips.
Her erald-green Quick-Quotes Quill was already hovering above the parchnt, its tip trembling excitedly, ready to capture any stray word.
"It seems I've arrived at the heart of a major news story?"
She twisted her waist as she walked in, her gaze sweeping over the two like a searchlight. "For the thousands upon thousands of worried readers of The Daily Prophet, for the parents who can't sleep at night, please allow , Rita Skeeter, to conduct a… well… an in-depth interview with you two regarding this terrible Chamber of Secrets attack?"
Her gaze was firmly fixed on Dumbledore.
Fudge, seeing the reporter, seed to grasp at a lifeline; he imdiately adjusted his crooked hat, trying to project an air of being in control. "Ms. Skeeter! Yes, the Ministry is actively intervening to ensure student safety, we—"
"Actively intervening?"
Rita's quill imdiately began to fly wildly. "Minister, does this an you believe Headmaster Dumbledore is no longer capable of handling this crisis? After all, such a large-scale attack, right here in what he claims is the safest fortress…"
Her attack instantly turned to Dumbledore, her smile full of ill intent. "Professor, regarding the Chamber of Secrets, regarding Slytherin's legendary monster, do you possess crucial information that the outside world doesn't know? The vast majority of parents and the public have an undeniable right to know!"
Her quill drew an exaggerated question mark in the air.
Dumbledore calmly looked at Rita and her malicious quill, his voice still steady. "Ms. Skeeter, the monster in the Chamber of Secrets has been dealt with, but the truth has not yet co to light. Any irresponsible speculation and insinuation now will only create unnecessary panic. I advise you not to spread unverified rumors, as that would only make you an accomplice to darkness."
"Oh, dear Professor, 'rumors'?"
Rita's smile deepened, and a strange light flickered in her eyes.
"The public craves to know the truth! Especially when a highly respected Principal seems… well… to be struggling. If the school cannot provide convincing answers and assurances to the public, I believe the public and the gentlen of the school board will have their own judgnt. My pen"—
She elegantly pointed to the excited quill—"rely faithfully records all the facts that are currently unfolding."
The quill spun triumphantly in the air.
As if to confirm Rita's prophecy, the office door was pushed open for the third ti.
This ti, Lucius Malfoy entered silently.
He was dressed in a well-tailored suit, and his silver serpent-headed cane made crisp, regular clack sounds on the floor, each step carrying a cold oppression.
His pale face was expressionless, and there was no ripple in his grey-blue eyes as he arrogantly swept his gaze over the slightly flustered Fudge and the excited Rita. Finally, that cold gaze, like a tangible force, fell upon Dumbledore, carrying undisguised scrutiny and disdain.
"Good afternoon, Minister. Ms. Skeeter." His voice was drawn out, finally turning to the person behind the desk. "And Dumbledore… Headmaster."
He deliberately omitted the title "Headmaster," each syllable seeming to emphasize sothing.
Fudge appeared sowhat flustered. "Lucius! You've co at just the right ti, we were discussing…"
Malfoy slightly raised his hand, a subtle gesture that silenced Fudge, and his gaze never left Dumbledore.
"No need for pleasantries, Minister. I am here on behalf of all mbers of the Hogwarts Board of Governors."
His voice was steady and cold as he unhurriedly took a parchnt scroll sealed with deep purple wax from his pocket and elegantly placed it in the center of Dumbledore's desk.
"In light of the… extrely disturbing and completely unacceptable malicious attacks that have recently occurred at Hogwarts," Malfoy's voice echoed clearly in the office, "and the resulting… widespread, uncontainable panic, and serious doubts about the school's current managent capabilities…"
He paused deliberately, seemingly savoring the solemnity hidden beneath Dumbledore's calm deanor.
"The Board convened an ergency eting last night, and after deliberation, unanimously determined that the current situation constitutes a significant threat to Hogwarts' reputation and student safety. This docunt"—he tapped the scroll with his cane—"is a… suspension order… jointly signed by myself and eleven other school governors."
The air seed to solidify.
Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill scribbled frantically across the parchnt, almost sparking.
Lucius's lips curved upwards in a slow, subtle arc, and he continued: "It requires you, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, to suspend all your powers as Headmaster of Hogwarts, effective imdiately."
He clasped his hands over his serpent-headed cane, his tone harsh: "Until… the Board deems that the school has restored safe order, or until you yourself find and thoroughly resolve the true source of the current crisis."
He spoke his last few words exceptionally slowly, with heavy sarcasm.
Dumbledore did not imdiately look at the suspension order on the desk, which lay there like a venomous snake. He slowly, steadily, stood up.
"Lucius," Dumbledore's voice remained steady, "the Board exercising its oversight powers granted by the charter is beyond reproach."
His gaze swept over the varied expressions of Fudge and Rita, finally returning to Malfoy. "However, the crisis Hogwarts is currently facing cannot be resolved by a re suspension order. The monster in the Chamber of Secrets has been dealt with, but the true culprit has not yet been apprehended."
He gently patted the large Headmaster's chair. "Whether or not I sit in this chair, protecting students, uncovering the truth, and confronting all darkness that seeks to defile this Castle are the undeniable and inescapable responsibilities of myself, and every person who truly cares about the future of Hogwarts."
He extended his hand unhurriedly and gently picked up the weighty suspension order.
He did not break the wax seal, but rely held it in his old yet strong hand, weighing it, as if weighing the contempt and conspiracy contained within.
"I have received this order," Dumbledore's voice sounded sowhat weary, "but before I leave this office, I must remind you all: the true crisis does not stem from this chair in the Headmaster's office."
His gaze, through his half-moon spectacles, swept firmly and calmly over everyone. "Expelling , perhaps, is easy. But expelling the darkness lurking deep within the Castle requires true wisdom and fearless courage, for this is not about political machinations and the venting of personal grudges."
No sooner had he finished speaking than a raven landed on the windowsill. It tilted its head, looked at everyone in the office, and then coldly uttered a sentence:
"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in the girls' lavatory where Myrtle is."
~~~~~~~~~~
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