"So, you're saying Potter was attacked?"
Walking behind Dumbledore, Dawn raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise as he heard the news.
It wasn't the troll attack—it was a slashing assault… The original plot had completely fallen apart!
But why?
Had he done something so different that it triggered such a serious butterfly effect?
Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, hiding every trace of emotion beneath his usual calm expression.
"Yes. On the castle stairs. It was blatant. If Fawkes hadn't arrived in time, the consequences would have been unimaginable."
Dawn tilted his chin slightly, thinking that Voldemort was getting far too bold at this stage.
But suddenly—
As he looked at Dumbledore, who had shown up unexpectedly and was now leading him somewhere, a strange feeling of foreboding welled up inside him.
He narrowed his eyes. "Professor, why exactly did you come looking for me?"
"…Ten minutes ago, Harry regained consciousness under Madam Pomfrey's care."
Dumbledore's tone was gentle as he continued walking with Dawn toward the headmaster's office. "He told us that the person who attacked him had the face of Dawn Richter."
"Oh? And do you believe it was me?" Dawn asked calmly, his expression unchanged.
"No, I said—the attacker only had your face."
They arrived at the eighth floor. Dumbledore spoke the password, "Lemon Sherbet," to a stone gargoyle, and the staircase began to spiral open. He guided Dawn inside.
"Don't worry, my boy. I'm not accusing you… Even Severus doesn't believe you were the attacker."
Dawn let out a light hum. "Really? I thought Professor Snape would leap at the chance to pin the blame on me."
He said this casually while taking in the space—his first time inside the headmaster's office.
Beyond the stone statue was a rotating staircase, leading to a spacious, circular room bathed in soft light.
Portraits hung unevenly on the walls, their subjects murmuring amongst themselves, though their voices were indistinct.
A wide desk stood at the center, flanked by cabinets filled with silver instruments.
Above, on a golden and crimson perch, sat an empty space—Fawkes was not here. He was probably still keeping watch over Harry.
Dawn sighed inwardly. He had hoped to study the magical patterns inside the phoenix's body.
He stepped forward a few paces and noticed the Sorting Hat, fast asleep on a nearby stool.
He had to admit—
This office truly radiated magical energy.
"Severus isn't a bad man at heart. He simply struggles to express himself. If you ever asked him for help, he likely wouldn't refuse."
Dumbledore offered a mild defense of Snape.
Dawn shrugged, clearly not convinced.
The headmaster gestured for him to sit. Then he conjured two cups of steaming tea and continued.
"Besides, the attacker used the spell 'Sectumsempra.' That's a curse created by Severus himself, never publicly taught… He's certain you couldn't possibly know it."
"I see…" Dawn nodded thoughtfully.
But then a question struck him.
"Wait, Headmaster—if the castle could tell you where I was, what about the attacker? This all happened within the castle. Shouldn't you know where he escaped to?"
"In theory, yes," Dumbledore said with a frown, spreading his hands. "The headmaster does have the highest level of control over the castle."
"But in this case, he truly vanished right under my nose. Even the ghosts and portraits didn't see where he went."
"Hold on, Albus!"
A woman's voice rang out from one of the portraits. "Why didn't the attacker just use the Killing Curse?"
"Oh, Headmistress Derwent, that's actually easy to explain."
Dumbledore returned to his seat, fingers steepled. "Harry survived because of a rebounded Killing Curse. Tom likely fears the same thing happening again. That's probably why the attacker chose not to use it."
Derwent?
Dawn's eyes flicked toward the speaker. He immediately recognized her—a graceful woman in a silver robe with her hair pinned up.
—So this was Headmistress Derwent, the one connected to the tale of the Fountain of Fair Fortune during Olivia Carter's time?
As if sensing his gaze, Derwent smiled gently at him.
Before he could respond, another portrait interrupted—Headmaster Black.
"Albus, if you ask me, just give everyone in the school a drop of Veritaserum. It's simple, effective, and harmless in small doses!"
He looked quite pleased with his suggestion.
But after he finished speaking, the room fell into one of its typical awkward silences.
Dawn decided to cut to the point. "Professor, could Quirrell have anything to do with this?"
Dumbledore's hand holding the teacup froze slightly. "Oh? Why do you suspect Professor Quirrell?"
"Isn't it obvious, Headmaster? Just ask anyone about how different he was last year compared to now. It's clear something about him is suspicious."
Dawn gave a vague explanation.
Looking straight at Dumbledore, he asked, "I understand you must have your reasons for keeping him around, but given what's happened, why not just arrest him for questioning?"
There was a pause.
Then Dumbledore gently set his teacup down. "I'm sorry, Dawn… but I can say with certainty that Professor Quirrell was in my sight the entire time before the feast began."
Just like when the three-headed dog got out—Quirrell had been seen on the Quidditch field.
Dawn let out a cold laugh. "Perhaps Polyjuice Potion?"
"Oh, you and Severus do think alike!"
Dumbledore chuckled. "He asked me the same thing after the Cerberus incident… But I'm quite sure that Quirrell hasn't drunk anything at all in the past four hours."
Then the headmaster's tone shifted. "Still, since the attacker wore your face, you might want to consider—has anyone come into contact with your hair recently?"
"Impossible!"
Dawn shook his head firmly. "I know about the Polyjuice Potion. I've been extremely careful about collecting any hair I shed. There's no chance any was left behind."
Dumbledore fell silent for a moment. "In that case… The attacker must have used Transfiguration to mimic your appearance… That level of skill is rare."
He began tapping his index finger against the table, clearly deep in thought.
Dawn lowered his eyes slightly and said nothing.
He was thinking—
Why use his face to commit the attack?
And if the goal was to frame him, why use a curse like Sectumsempra, something so uncommon it could be traced back?
Voldemort might have been arrogant and unstable due to fragmenting his soul, but he was not stupid.
Such an obviously flawed frame-up didn't seem like something Voldemort would orchestrate at this stage.
And what was the point of the attack anyway? Wasn't he supposed to be obsessed with the Philosopher's Stone and his resurrection right now?
Maybe the incident with the three-headed dog was related to the Stone. But if so, why take the risk of drawing more attention by targeting Harry at this critical moment?
Dawn shook his head.
Was it possible he had misjudged Quirrell entirely?
Could Harry's slashing attack—and the Cerberus breakout—have nothing to do with Voldemort at all?
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