Outside the hospital wing, McGonagall hurried to catch up with Dumbledore.
"Albus, what do you think this attack was really about?" Professor McGonagall asked with deep concern.
After rooting out Voldemort, who had been lurking in the school last year, Professor McGonagall had finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking this semester would return to peaceful normalcy.
But unexpectedly, less than a week into the school year, two professors had been injured, and both were Defence Against the Dark Arts instructors. Was there some malevolent curse on this particular course?
Did anyone who taught this subject have to suffer mysterious consequences?
Wait, Dudley was currently also teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. This had effectively taken down all the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers.
"Perhaps it was just an unfortunate accident," Professor Dumbledore said after thinking for a moment.
"But..." Professor McGonagall still looked very worried about the implications.
"Minerva, we can't control everything that happens," Dumbledore said with serious gravity.
"Also, compared to the attack Dudley and Snape encountered, I'm more concerned about the danger in the castle that Dudley mentioned earlier. That's the real crisis lurking in the shadows."
McGonagall frowned and asked with obvious puzzlement, "Don't you think it was that hidden crisis that attacked Dudley and Professor Snape?"
Dumbledore shook his head thoughtfully.
"Dudley mentioned that the sense of crisis was very faint, which means the danger was relatively far from his location. Also, after Dudley and Snape fell unconscious, they lost all ability to resist. In that situation, if you were the attacker, what would you do?"
Hearing Dumbledore's logical explanation, Professor McGonagall fell into contemplative thought. Soon, she roughly understood what Dumbledore was implying.
"Then, about Dudley and Snape's incident..." McGonagall still had lingering questions about this matter.
She felt like Dumbledore seemed to know something important but wasn't sharing it with her.
"Let's discuss that after Snape regains consciousness," Professor Dumbledore said diplomatically.
"Good night, Minerva."
Dumbledore didn't want to elaborate further. After bidding goodnight, he hurried away through the corridors.
Back in the headmaster's office, Dumbledore didn't rush to sleep but approached the ancient Sorting Hat.
"Oh, Professor Dumbledore, it's so late. Aren't you sleeping?" The Sorting Hat stirred and woke up with obvious surprise.
"No hurry," Dumbledore said calmly. "I want to know something. Last year when you were sorting Dudley Dursley, you tried to enter his consciousness, didn't you?"
"Yes, but to be precise, it wasn't entering his consciousness. I don't possess that powerful an ability," The Sorting Hat said with self-deprecating humour.
"I only read his surface thoughts."
Dumbledore nodded and continued asking, "And then you discovered nothing, correct?"
"Exactly right," The Sorting Hat nodded very humanly.
"Could you describe that experience to me in detail?" Dumbledore requested.
The Sorting Hat didn't answer immediately, showing a thoughtful expression.
After a considerable pause, the Sorting Hat spoke: "Actually, I didn't have any particular sensation, because the moment I attempted to read his consciousness, I knew absolutely nothing."
"If I had to describe any feeling, I suppose I felt overwhelming fear, like encountering some incredibly powerful wizard who could destroy me at will. Yes, that's right, a genuinely terrifying presence."
The Sorting Hat described with obvious unease.
"I understand completely," Dumbledore nodded and walked silently toward his desk.
"If it wasn't the danger Dudley mentioned that attacked them, then it should have been Snape himself..." Dumbledore roughly guessed how events had unfolded.
"As the most excellent Legilimency master, Snape might have wanted to invade Dudley's consciousness at the end of their battle, and then something similar to what happened with the Sorting Hat occurred."
Dumbledore made his logical judgement.
After discovering what had happened to the two, Dumbledore had carefully examined the scene.
He found no traces of dark magic, nor any evidence of attack by other wizards, so he had initially judged that Snape might have been backlashed by his own Legilimency attempt.
Coming back to question the Sorting Hat was just to confirm this speculation.
"Dumbledore, don't tell me you also want to enter Dudley's consciousness to take a look?" The Sorting Hat asked with obvious curiosity.
"No, I don't want to die yet," Dumbledore shook his head with dry humour.
"Is it that serious? Then it seems I was genuinely lucky to survive," the Sorting Hat showed a frightened expression.
Dumbledore smiled knowingly and said, "You're just a hat, old friend. You can't actually die."
"Oh, that's right, I'm just a hat. But I feel like I could still perish, be destroyed, you know what I mean?"
"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Dumbledore assured.
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."
The next day, news of Dudley and Snape's mysterious attack spread throughout the school, shocking everyone.
After all, this had happened within the supposedly safe school grounds, and those attacked weren't ordinary wizards but Snape and Dudley.
One was the Head of Slytherin House, the other was Dudley, who had defeated dark wizards in combat. If they were both injured in an attack, one could imagine what might happen to ordinary students.
At the same time, another disturbing rumour began to circulate.
The curse of Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Less than a week into the school year, two Defence Against the Dark Arts professors were hospitalised, and even Dudley, who was substitute teaching, couldn't escape injury. Many people thought this was no mere coincidence.
However, what made everyone secretly happy was that they temporarily didn't have to attend Defence Against the Dark Arts classes because there were no professors left to teach.
Other professors with free time were all unwilling to take over this apparently cursed course.
Dudley slept in the hospital wing until noon before finally waking up.
On the bedside table beside him were some food and fresh flowers. Harry and the others must have visited while he was unconscious.
Dudley sat up and began eating the provided meal.
He felt much better physically. If nothing unexpected happened, he could be discharged in the afternoon.
But it depended entirely on whether Madam Pomfrey was willing to let him go.
Just as he was eating, the hospital door suddenly opened a crack, and someone peeked in with obvious caution.
Dudley glanced over and immediately recognised the visitor.
"Professor Lockhart, are you coming in?" The visitor was indeed Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Shh," Lockhart made a silencing gesture to Dudley, then looked around the room carefully. After confirming there was no one else in the hospital wing, he quickly entered.
His face was still noticeably pale, and the bones in his chest hadn't fully regrown yet, supported by a magical brace.
"Dudley, quick, tell me, is the Defence Against the Dark Arts curse actually real?" Lockhart asked with obvious nervousness.
Dudley stared at him with complete bewilderment: "???"