Snape entered the room.
The students instinctively stepped aside for him, yet their eyes remained fixed on the blood-soaked wall.
Dawn was no exception.
[Using blood and life as the foundation, I shall rise again from death and reshape the order of this world — Voldemort]
Once the injured student had been removed, the blood-written message hidden behind his body was finally revealed in full.
Snape's brows slowly drew together.
Staring at the name written in blood, his expression gradually turned solemn.
"Professor... is this real?" one student muttered blankly. "Is You-Know-Who really coming back?"
The question instantly ignited chaos among the gathered crowd.
"That's impossible!" another student screamed. "He's dead! The Boy-Who-Lived killed him! How could he possibly return?!"
"And why not?"
A different student raised his chin arrogantly.
"Our pure-blood families aren't like you half-bloods. We actually have history and knowledge passed down!"
A witch pointed accusingly at him.
"So you want Voldemort to return?"
"No! Of course not!"
The clever little snake immediately avoided leaving himself vulnerable.
His eyes flickered as he replied, "I'm just saying... even if the Dark Lord really returned, maybe things wouldn't be as terrible as everyone thinks."
Inside the cramped dormitory, all kinds of reactions surfaced.
Among Slytherins, feelings toward Voldemort were undoubtedly the most complicated.
There was fear and panic.
But also excitement and yearning.
"Silence!"
Snape's patience finally snapped.
His furious roar cut through the noise, his face so dark it was almost frightening.
In Dawn's opinion, it nearly matched the expression Snape wore when George had stepped directly on his emotional landmine.
The dorm instantly fell silent.
Snape stared at the bloody words on the wall, countless thoughts flashing through his mind before finally settling on his identity as a double agent.
If Voldemort really had returned, then he absolutely had to protect Lily's son.
That was the only thought remaining in his mind.
Still—
Snape remembered what mattered most right now.
Crouching beside the injured student, he quickly examined him with practiced efficiency before pulling several potions from his sleeves and force-feeding them down the boy's throat.
Then he lifted the student into his arms.
After a brief pause, he switched to simply carrying him by the collar instead.
"Do not gather here. Return to your common room immediately. Prefects, maintain order. I do not want to hear anyone discussing these idiotic rumors again."
Snape issued the command in his usual cold tone.
Yet before leaving, he turned toward Gemma Farley.
"Well done. Fifty points to Slytherin."
Wow.
Isn't that just blatant favoritism?
Watching Snape's bat-like figure disappear into the distance, Dawn silently admired the man's obsession with the House Cup.
Still, judging by Snape's reaction, the student apparently had not died after all.
Only suffered severe injuries.
Dawn looked once more at the blood-covered wall and the sword lying on the ground, now reverted from straw to steel, piecing together the sequence of events from nearby whispers.
At that moment—
Not long after Snape departed, Dumbledore arrived.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, would you kindly make some room for me?"
He clapped his hands lightly.
The old headmaster's authority was immense. Under his guidance, the students finally began dispersing.
Dawn followed the crowd, intending to leave as well.
But suddenly—
He realized his body had become almost transparent.
The surrounding students unconsciously avoided his position without noticing him in the slightest.
A Disillusionment Charm combined with a Confundus Charm? Dawn raised an eyebrow, immediately identifying the magic affecting him.
Turning back, he looked toward Dumbledore. The old man gave a faint nod.
Understanding dawned on him, and Dawn calmly stopped walking. Soon, only the two of them remained inside the dormitory.
With a heavy thud, the door shut itself.
At the same time, the spells concealing Dawn gradually faded.
Walking toward Dumbledore, he asked the question already on his mind. "Headmaster, how did you know Blaise was me?"
After all, he had never exposed that identity.
Dumbledore replied calmly, "Yesterday morning, I received a note. It contained the names Fred and Blaise."
"Of course it was Voldemort."
Dawn clicked his tongue in annoyance.
The suspect was obvious immediately.
That snake-faced freak simply could not tolerate him having anything good.
Originally, Dawn had intended to keep the Blaise identity hidden if it avoided attacks unlike Fred's body.
Perhaps it could have been useful later.
Dumbledore smiled faintly, silently agreeing with the deduction.
Though the note had technically been delivered by a Hufflepuff student, he too believed Tom was behind it.
Dawn shrugged.
"Headmaster, did Tom enjoy tattling to teachers even as a child? Honestly, that doesn't sound very much like a good student."
"I agree with your final statement," Dumbledore replied mildly. "But I still believe informing professors when problems arise is the correct choice."
For reasons unclear, Dumbledore showed no urgency in discussing serious matters.
Instead, he simply chatted with him casually.
Dawn was even less hurried.
Pointing toward the wall, he asked curiously, "Headmaster, what do you think of this? Hogwarts really is becoming wonderfully safe lately. Last year we had a basilisk. Now this."
He counted on his fingers.
"And adding George, currently lying in the hospital wing... honestly, your dismissal as headmaster can't be too far away, can it?"
"Ah, you're quite right. I truly am not a particularly competent headmaster."
Dumbledore admitted it openly before pausing.
"However, Dawn... I don't think George's situation can reasonably be blamed on me."
"So you saw that too?" Dawn sounded unsurprised. "As far as I remember, even wizarding law doesn't approve of spying."
"Then please keep it secret for me."
Dumbledore smiled soundlessly.
Within that cold dormitory filled with the scent of blood, the old man and the young boy chatted casually together.
Strangely enough, the scene almost looked harmonious.
Thinking back to Fred and George's wager, Dumbledore suddenly found himself wondering—
If Voldemort had never interfered... If Dawn had simply remained under his guidance through first year...
What kind of child would he have become?
"Dawn," Dumbledore suddenly asked, "have you ever regretted leaving Hogwarts during your first year?"
Dawn shot him a sideways glance.
"Why ask that?"
"Simple curiosity."
Dumbledore looked at him steadily.
"I noticed you actually seem quite happy around the other students."
"That's just seasoning for life."
Dawn replied naturally.
"And Headmaster, regardless of whether the consequences turned out good or bad, I still believe my choice back then was the correct one."
He paused slightly before continuing softly.
"I didn't trust you."
"Didn't trust me?"
Dumbledore repeated the phrase quietly before shaking his head.
"No. You're mistaken. Back then, the person you truly didn't trust was yourself."
Faced with Dawn's clear expression of You're absolutely making things up, the old wizard continued calmly.
"When you were in first year, your heart was extremely unstable. Or perhaps more accurately... you lacked a sense of security."
"Why are you assigning me such a strange label?"
Dawn sounded helpless.
Dumbledore smiled.
"That conclusion comes from comparing your behavior as Leia Hickman and as Dawn Richter."
He gestured lightly.
"When you acted as Leia Hickman, you were more relaxed. More natural. More willing to reveal the childish side of yourself."
"Hah. That practically counts as a personal attack."
Dawn laughed carelessly.
"Headmaster, why do you always insist on acting like you understand me so well?"
"Perhaps because I truly do understand you."
Dumbledore smiled faintly again.
"There is an old saying: The observer sees more clearly."
After a short pause, he continued as though offering proof. "Dawn, don't you think your progress in magic has been extraordinarily fast?"
What does that have to do with anything?
Dawn curled his lip.
"That's because I'm talented, experienced, and because you pressured me relentlessly."
"I don't deny any of that."
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"But I believe the deeper reason may be the persistent insecurity rooted in your heart. It stimulated both your emotions and your magic."
The old wizard spoke slowly.
"Dawn, as you once told me yourself, magic is a power of the mind. Its outward form reflects a person's emotions."
Hearing this, Dawn frowned.
Mind-based magic...
For the first time, he genuinely began reconsidering Dumbledore's words and his own choices during first year.
The clearest example was his arrogance.
The moment he saw Ravenclaw's Diadem, he ignored every possible consequence and focused solely on the benefits before taking Voldemort's Horcrux.
And insecurity...
Perhaps that part was true as well.
After Quirrell, controlled by Voldemort, came after him and died instead, perhaps he had feared becoming a disposable sacrifice.
And so he abandoned Hogwarts alone.
Dawn fell silent.
Human emotions truly were complicated.
Even he himself could not fully determine which feelings had motivated his past decisions.
"...None of that matters anymore." Dawn finally sounded irritated. "What's the point discussing it now?"
"Hm. Perhaps it was simply a sudden impulse."
Dumbledore answered softly.
In truth, while watching Dawn and George laughing together earlier, he had briefly entertained the weak and foolish hope that perhaps things could still somehow be salvaged.
Silence settled over the dormitory again.
Only the blood-scented air remained motionless.
Dawn changed the topic first. "Headmaster, did you keep me behind just to say meaningless things like this?"
"In part."
Dumbledore glanced toward the wall before continuing naturally. "Then tell me, Dawn. What do you think about this incident?"
"It was probably suicide."
Dawn shrugged.
The injured student's name was Angus Morrow, a third-year Slytherin and not a pure-blood.
This morning he had reportedly claimed illness and stayed alone inside the dormitory while the others attended class.
When his roommates returned after first period, they discovered him nailed to the wall.
"Voldemort controlled the student's body and orchestrated the whole thing himself," Dawn concluded.
"As for the purpose..."
He looked again at the bloody message.
"It's obvious. He wants to deepen belief in his resurrection through blood and death, thereby influencing the castle consciousness."
Honestly, compared to the cases he handled while playing detective before, this one felt absurdly straightforward.
Dumbledore nodded slowly.
He largely agreed with the deduction.
However—
"Is it truly that simple?"
The old headmaster narrowed his eyes.
"If Tom wanted to strengthen the rumors, then an actual death would have had far greater impact than severe injury."
Hm?
Dawn raised an eyebrow.
That was true.
Hogwarts was not a fairy tale where no students ever died.
Not only Myrtle, but several students throughout history had died within the castle itself.
Its modern reputation for safety existed largely because of Dumbledore's title as the greatest wizard of the age.
Yet even Dumbledore could not possibly stop every suicide attempt made by students themselves.
So why had Angus Morrow only been severely injured instead of killed?
"...Perhaps Voldemort feared causing too much panic. If students were sent home, fewer would remain in school, weakening the castle consciousness."
After thinking for a moment, that was the only explanation Dawn could offer.
He turned toward Dumbledore.
"Does the castle consciousness depend upon students physically remaining at Hogwarts?"
"I don't know."
Dumbledore answered honestly.
After all, he himself had only recently learned of the castle consciousness.
Still—
Though Dawn's explanation made sense, Dumbledore remained uneasy.
Having spent so many years tangled with Voldemort, he could not shake the feeling that Tom still had another objective.
"I can't help feeling Tom has another purpose."
Dawn sighed helplessly.
"Headmaster, aren't you overly wary of Voldemort? It feels like you automatically overcomplicate simple matters."
In Dawn's opinion, Voldemort was certainly dangerous, but not impossible to deal with.
Every recent clash between them had ended with Voldemort losing.
Rather than feeling threatened by today's incident, Dawn instead saw further proof of Voldemort's weakness.
The man was running out of options.
That was why he had abandoned pure mental infiltration and begun gambling again within reality itself.
And because of that— Dawn felt no urgency.
He only needed to wait for further mind-links, suppress Voldemort within the students' bodies, and eventually use the castle consciousness to accomplish his goals.
Even if Voldemort resurrected first through the castle consciousness, Dawn would dislike it, certainly—
But it was hardly unacceptable.
He simply was not that worried.
Yet when he glanced sideways at Dumbledore, he found the old man's expression frighteningly grim.
"Headmaster, aren't you worrying too much?"
Dawn stretched lazily, loosening his stiff back.
"Even if Voldemort does have some hidden purpose, the worst possible outcome is simply his resurrection."
Spinning Blaise's wand casually between his fingers, Dawn spoke with complete confidence.
"Trust me, Headmaster. Even though this state limits me somewhat, the two of us together are more than enough to beat him back into being a wandering spirit."
"And afterward..."
"If Voldemort's soul fragments still remain inside the students even after he revives, we can use your potion rumor and the castle consciousness to expel all foreign abnormalities from them."
"Wouldn't that actually be the safer approach?"
That was Dawn's proposal.
If crossing the bridge himself felt troublesome, then let Voldemort cross first.
Afterward, they could join forces to kill him and continue onward themselves.
Dumbledore remained silent.
Although Dawn's reasoning had merit, he still believed it would be far better if Voldemort never returned at all.
Adding both Voldemort and Dawn into the equation created far too much uncertainty.
More importantly—
"If Voldemort resurrects through a student's body," Dumbledore asked quietly, "what happens to that student?"
Clearly, he still remembered his responsibilities as headmaster.
Dawn blinked at him in surprise.
"For someone called the White Lord, that sounds overly soft-hearted."
"...White Lord?"
Dumbledore looked genuinely startled.
"When exactly did I acquire such a title?"
Dawn looked up toward the ceiling thoughtfully. "No idea. Maybe it's just how my subconscious categorizes you."
Trying to remember where he had first heard the term, he still could not pinpoint it.
Perhaps it came from those strange overlapping memories in his mind.
Speaking of those memories...
Dawn suddenly realized that among the trio, the one he had interacted with most at school was not Harry or Hermione at all.
It was Neville.
At that moment, Dumbledore spoke again, giving another reason for opposition.
"Dawn, I don't know where you learned about the castle consciousness. But have you considered that it may not be something usable at will?"
The next sentence made Dawn's eyelids twitch.
"After the castle consciousness is used once, it requires a very long recovery period."
Dawn froze.
He genuinely had not considered that possibility.
The collective consciousness actually needed recovery time? The idea sounded ridiculous.
Yet remembering that the castle consciousness was not a true collective consciousness but rather something artificially created through unknown methods—Perhaps it really was possible.
"Evidence?" Dawn asked immediately.
"None."
Dumbledore spread his hands.
"I merely found fragments of information related to the Four Founders over these past few days. That was the impression I formed."
Dawn clicked his tongue in frustration.
Now he finally felt a headache coming on.
With only a few more mind-links, he would completely suppress Voldemort and gain the initiative.
But if the castle consciousness truly had some sort of cooldown period, then he could no longer afford to relax.
The rumors needed to be suppressed immediately.
Fortunately...
That part was simple.
"Fine. I'll take the blame."
Dawn sighed.
As long as someone publicly claimed responsibility, the storm would quickly pass, and the rumors would naturally weaken.
Especially with the Ministry—and Minister Fudge in particular—desperately refusing to believe Voldemort had returned.
They would eagerly help crush the story.
Then Dawn looked toward Dumbledore again.
"Still, Headmaster... if you had to choose between Fred and Blaise, which one would you pick?"
___________
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