Back in his office—
Dawn set down his textbook and left again, heading for the library.
He wanted to see if there were any magical creatures that could resist the Stunning Spell, something to make up for his own weakness.
On the shifting staircases, he overheard two students ahead whispering.
He still hadn't memorized every student's name, but from the patterns on their robes, he could tell they were from Hufflepuff.
One was chubby, the other thin.
"Hey, did you hear? We've got a practical lesson in the Forbidden Forest this Saturday.
The professors are going to teach us a bunch of useful spells," the chubby boy said excitedly.
The thin one nodded.
"Of course I heard! But you're behind on the news.
"Not only are we learning spells, we'll also have to deal with tons of dark creatures. I even heard there's a basilisk!"
"Seriously? A basilisk? And we're supposed to handle it?" the chubby boy gasped, clearly remembering last term.
The thin boy nodded solemnly, then began confidently describing what was obviously a completely made-up outcome.
Dawn raised an eyebrow behind them.
So the news of the practical lesson had already spread?
He didn't interrupt their conversation. When the staircase split at the fifth floor, he stepped off.
The library was as quiet as ever.
Madam Pince was at the front desk, repairing a damaged book while muttering about careless students.
Dawn didn't disturb her.
He walked toward the shelves, then suddenly thought of something and scanned the room—
But didn't see the person he was looking for.
Where had Amir gone again?
Dawn stroked his chin.
Thinking about it, ever since a certain day last term, Amir had started disappearing frequently.
Was it because his blood curse was acting up more often?
Dawn shook his head.
He remembered the strange expressions Amir had shown before. There was probably more to it.
Unfortunately, Dawn had too many problems of his own to deal with.
He simply didn't have the time to investigate.
Pushing the thought aside, he moved to the magical creatures section. He deliberately avoided books by Newt and chose more obscure ones.
Flipping through the pages, all kinds of magical creatures filled his vision.
There were countless magical species in the world. And with illegal hybridization still happening despite Ministry bans, the number kept growing.
Like the Concealment Beast he had just taught.
Or, in his memory, the Blast-Ended Skrewt Hagrid would create in a couple of years by crossing a manticore with a fire crab.
Come to think of it—
Wasn't there a theory that wizards originally came from unions between Muggles and magical creatures?
Had none of those hybridization enthusiasts ever tried that?
Dawn's mind wandered into deeply questionable territory, but his eyes continued scanning the pages rapidly.
Unfortunately—
Despite the vast number of magical creatures, none seemed capable of completely resisting the Stunning Spell.
At best, the books mentioned that dragons had thick hides, making ordinary Stunning Spells less effective.
But Dawn didn't need to turn into a dragon to resist basic spells.
He sighed and closed the book.
Time had slipped by unnoticed.
After glancing at the clock nearby, he left the library and headed for his afternoon class.
By coincidence, as he stepped onto another shifting staircase, he overheard a familiar conversation again.
This time, he recognized them.
Second-year Slytherins—Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini.
Theodore yawned, clearly not fully awake from his nap.
Seeing Blaise looking even worse, he frowned.
"What's wrong with you? You look terrible."
"Don't even ask," Blaise groaned. "I had the strangest dream during lunch. I was boxing a Muggle in a ring, and he beat me up for ages."
He rubbed his face and arms as if still feeling phantom pain.
"Boxing?" Theodore looked puzzled. "Don't tell me your dream is to become a boxer."
"What are you even talking about? I didn't even know Muggles had that job before this!" Blaise complained weakly.
Then, recalling the dream where even his teeth got knocked out, he clenched his fists angrily.
"If I see that guy again, I'm definitely punching him back!"
"…Sure. Whatever makes you happy," Theodore replied dryly.
"What's with that expression? Haven't you ever had a ridiculous dream?"
"Sorry, but no. I haven't dreamed at all for months," Theodore shrugged.
The staircase shifted, connecting the fifth floor to the first. The two of them stepped off first, heading to Herbology.
Dawn tapped the railing lightly with his finger.
Dreams?
So the Resurrection Stone powder was already taking effect?
He thought back to what he had heard.
It seemed that, due to the different method of use, instead of immediately causing unconsciousness and dreams, inhaling the powder only connected to the thoughts of the dead during sleep.
Also—
Theodore hadn't dreamed at all.
So even though they both inhaled the powder, the timing of the effect differed?
Dawn exhaled softly.
The staircase finally settled at the fourth floor.
He set the matter aside for now and prepared for class.
Meanwhile—
On the eighth floor of Hogwarts.
After finishing two morning classes, Professor McGonagall finally found time and stormed into the Headmaster's office.
"Albus! Look at the state of the castle these past few days! Peeves cannot be allowed to continue like this!"
The chaos had pushed her past her limit.
"Minerva, calm down," Dumbledore said, rising to greet her. "Would you like some tea?"
"I am not in the mood."
McGonagall cut him off.
"Do you know what happened last night? The Weasley twins actually tried to steal from my office!
They've never done something like this before—this is all because of Peeves!"
She was right.
Driven to desperation by Peeves' relentless torment, the twins had acted.
And failed.
They were caught red-handed by McGonagall—
And, worse, witnessed her in cat form... engaging with certain Christmas gifts not fit for discussion.
They received severe punishment.
As they later described it:
"Professor McGonagall looked like she was about to beat us into amnesia! Worse than Mum when she's angry!"
On top of that, McGonagall had written to their family.
They had received a Howler that morning.
"And another thing," McGonagall continued sharply. "Have you found out who's supplying Peeves with those dungbombs?"
Dumbledore's hand froze slightly around his teacup.
He avoided her gaze, coughed, and after a moment, said quietly—
"…It was me."
The room fell silent.
McGonagall stared at him in disbelief.
She said nothing more, only turned and walked toward the door, her disappointment obvious.
"Wait, Minerva."
Dumbledore stopped her.
He waved his hand, casting a soundproofing charm.
"Let's set Peeves aside for now. There's something more important I need to discuss."
McGonagall paused, still upset.
"What is it?"
"It's about this weekend's practical lesson."
Dumbledore chose his words carefully.
"You know I've prepared two types of bracelets for safety. When it's time to hand out the white ones, I need you to follow behind me and distribute them from nearest to farthest."
McGonagall frowned.
"I don't understand. Are the bracelets different? Albus… do you have another purpose for this lesson?"
Dumbledore remained silent for a moment.
Then he simply said, sincerely—
"Please, Minerva. I promise I will explain afterward."
He did not reveal the truth—that Professor Hickman was Dawn in disguise.
At a moment like this, he trusted only himself.
Just as he always had when dealing with Voldemort.
McGonagall was still unhappy.
But after a long look at him, she sighed.
"…Very well."
"Thank you for trusting me," Dumbledore said gently.
"Just make sure no student is harmed," she replied before leaving without looking back.
Dumbledore could tell she was still upset.
But for the sake of certainty, he could not reveal everything yet.
Before the weekend, he would need to give the same instructions to the other three Heads of House.
He narrowed his eyes, absentmindedly stroking Fawkes, who had recovered.
Outside the window, owls flew past in groups.
Then his gaze drifted toward the Forbidden Forest.
Time flowed on like water.
At last—
Saturday arrived.
The day of the practical lesson.
Although Dumbledore had originally said all seven years would attend together, reality differed.
Only fourth, fifth, and sixth years came today.
Seventh years were exempt due to upcoming exams.
The lower years would attend tomorrow.
After breakfast, the students eagerly gathered near Hagrid's hut, excited for the adventure ahead.
Dumbledore, the Heads of House, Madam Pomfrey, and Dawn were already waiting.
"Good morning, everyone," Dumbledore greeted with a smile, his voice rising above the chatter.
___________
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