Just as Professor McGonagall and Umbridge were locked in confrontation, Hermione seized the moment when no one was paying attention and quietly slipped over to Draco.
Of course—with something this monumental happening, there was no way Miss Know-It-All could just sit still...
"Draco, what Potter just said... could it really be true?"
"Whether it's true or not doesn't matter. What matters is how Potter found out."
"A nightmare?"
The words escaped Hermione's mouth before she could stop herself, and she immediately shook her head, half-amused at her own slip.
Mythical tales do speak of nightmares—beings that can invade dreams—but they are purely fictional creatures. Even in the wizarding world, Hermione had never heard of such a magical entity.
Besides, judging by Harry Potter's expression, it seemed he had genuinely seen it with his own eyes....
"If it wasn't a dream, could it have been a Charm?"
Hermione quickly dismissed her earlier idea and proposed another possibility, though the uncertainty in her tone betrayed her lack of confidence.
As she studied Draco's profile intently, she saw no sign of agreement, nor did she receive any further clarification.
Meanwhile, Pansy frowned and dismissed Hermione's suggestion outright.
"I've never heard of anyone capable of such a Charm... If it truly exists, it would be extremely advanced dark magic."
Though Pansy's grades weren't as high as Hermione's, when it came to knowledge of dark magic, her upbringing in one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Families gave her far greater insight. At least in this area, Hermione wouldn't dare claim to know more than Pansy....
In reality, any magic that involves the brain or soul requires not only exceptional magical control but also an extensive foundation of knowledge. More importantly, it would be impossible for such a spell to escape the notice of Professor Minerva McGonagall. Her eyes were far from failing.
So.....
"Besides, if Potter really was under a spell, how powerful would the caster have to be to cast it on a student right under Professor McGonagall's nose without being noticed?"
Pansy's remark made Hermione think. "…So, are you saying Potter might just be talking nonsense?"
"Who knows? Maybe that Chosen One simply wanted to grab everyone's attention that way."
Perhaps annoyed by Hermione, Pansy could only roll her eyes and throw out a half-hearted excuse.
But the question of whether he had been bewitched was effectively dismissed in just a few words.
In the end, Pansy and Hermione could only turn their pleading gazes toward Draco, who had remained silent the entire time…
…
Although Draco's expression appeared calm and composed, inside he was far from at ease.
In truth, he wasn't entirely clear on the situation himself; he knew no more than Hermione did.
Faced with the two girls' questioning gazes, Draco shrugged. "There's just too little information. As for whether it's true or not, I really can't say, but..."
"But?"
"Don't you think Professor McGonagall's behavior is a little off?"
Putting aside where Harry Potter's information came from, or how reliable it might be, Draco's attention had never been on Harry Potter. From the start, it had been on Minerva McGonagall—the woman who had already drawn her wand and looked as if she were prepared to lead Harry Potter out of the fray.
Draco's observation made Hermione frown. "Now that you mention it... that is unusual."
By all logic, the strict and impartial Professor McGonagall should have immediately punished any student disrupting class. At the very least, she wouldn't have rushed to take Harry Potter out of the room.
Realizing this, Hermione finally shifted her gaze to McGonagall, still standing off against Umbridge.
"So that means..."
"Exactly. Our Deputy Headmistress prioritized Potter immediately—or rather, everything happening to him took precedence, even if..."
"Even if it might have just been a dream?"
"Yes."
"They"?
Who were "they"?
Draco's words contained more than a few points worth noticing....
...
Just as Draco finished speaking, there was a new development on Umbridge's side. Specifically, Harry Potter seemed to have revealed some crucial information.
"The Department of Mysteries… Voldemort is there."
The low, resonant voice drew every eye to Harry Potter.
Just as McGonagall, furious, moved to intervene, Umbridge's eyes flashed as she spoke first. "The Department of Mysteries? Where did you hear that name?"
"That's not important. What matters now is stopping Voldemort!"
"Hmph. The Ministry isn't as easy to get into as you think, and I've received no reports, Potter."
"I don't know—maybe Voldemort was using an Invisibility Cloak or something! Anyway, every time I go to the Department of Mysteries, there's never anyone there...."
Not wanting Harry Potter to continue, McGonagall waved her wand sharply. "You've never been there, Harry!"
The next moment, she scanned the room and fixed Umbridge, now silent, with a fierce glare. "You merely dreamed of that place. That's all."
Whether McGonagall's explanation convinced Umbridge or whether Umbridge simply didn't want to openly clash with Dumbledore at that moment, after a brief hesitation, she dismissed the wizards waiting outside the classroom.
"Very well. Your honesty has earned my trust, Potter. I will investigate this matter thoroughly, but until then… you must remain where I can see you."
"That's against the rules!"
"Don't forget, I am a High Inquisitor on special assignment from the Ministry of Magic. When I deem it necessary, I have the authority to do this, Minerva."
"You..."
Just as McGonagall raised an eyebrow to protest, she never expected to be undermined by one of her own.
"I'm willing, Professor."
"Harry, you?!"
"If it can save Sirius, I'm willing to do it."
"Listen, Harry, you can't even guarantee that's the truth. I need time...."
"Voldemort won't give us time. He'll kill him!"
Whether it was frustration at his own people's inaction or the searing pain of his lightning scar, Harry Potter couldn't think clearly. He could only act on what he believed was the best way to save Sirius Black.
With that, Harry Potter turned and followed Umbridge, whose smile toward him was all false warmth.
Things were beginning to spiral out of control....