After leaving the Hufflepuff common room, Professor Sprout looked positively relieved.
It was clear that anxiety could be contagious—whatever tension had been weighing on Snape and Sprout now seemed to have migrated to the faces of Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick.
As the group passed through the Great Hall, a hush fell over the students. No one dared speak above a whisper.
But as soon as the five professors left again, the Slytherin table erupted in noisy celebration.
A few Slytherins strutted around the edges of the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, heads held high and smug grins plastered across their faces.
"Honestly, I never would've guessed it—I was sure the intruder would turn out to be one of us in Slytherin."
"Same here. Though, between you and me, I'd suspect those reckless lions in Gryffindor before I'd blame Ravenclaw."
"Whoever dared cross the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is probably getting expelled."
"Let's hope so. That sort of behavior is a disgrace to wizardkind."
If not for the professors' timely intervention, there would have been a full-blown Slytherin versus the rest showdown right there in the Hall.
Hufflepuff?
They were content to sit back and watch the show.
Normally, they might side with Gryffindor, but with their respected upperclassman, Professor Holmes, involved, they were firmly on the professors' side until the truth came out.
Only Percy and Penelope wore troubled expressions.
If their suspicions were correct, it wouldn't matter whether the culprit was from Gryffindor or Ravenclaw—either way, it was something no one wanted to accept.
Thanks to Headmaster Dumbledore's privilege, the group bypassed all staircases and took the shortest route to Ravenclaw Tower.
There, a glowing old wooden board and a bronze eagle-shaped knocker guarded the entrance. To get in, you had to answer a riddle.
"We use numbers every day, but if you think about it, what are they, really?"
Before Professor Flitwick could respond, Professor McGonagall answered offhandedly,
"They're symbols, allowing us to understand certain essences of magic."
Though Douglas had his own thoughts on the matter, the bronze knocker seemed satisfied.
"Hmm, yes, that's quite reasonable!"
With a click, the door swung open.
Professor McGonagall shrugged.
"The Sorting Hat nearly put me in Ravenclaw.
Let's hurry—I hope we find something."
Professor Flitwick looked slightly put out by that.
Inside the Ravenclaw common room, a handful of students were quietly reading or doing homework, completely oblivious to the arrival of so many senior professors.
Professor Flitwick clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please put down your books and come over here."
When the students finally looked up and realized who had entered, a ripple of panic spread through the room.
Wasn't tonight the Halloween feast?
Why were all the Heads of House here?
Flitwick did a quick headcount.
"Fourth-year Mr. Tom Cruise isn't here, but everyone else is present."
With a flick of his wand, the parchment in Douglas's hand magically duplicated and floated down in front of the students.
He spoke in a tone that was sharp but gentle,
"No need to be nervous—just compare your own foot to the print.
By the way, did any of you leave and return partway through the evening?
Ah, Mr. White, thank you for your honesty. We already heard the story from your girlfriend..."
The student named White flushed and stammered,
"Professor, we broke up. I need to focus on my O.W.L.s—been too busy lately..."
The professors, however, had no interest in his romantic woes.
Once they confirmed that none of the footprints matched, they prepared to check the dormitories for the last Ravenclaw student.
Just then, one student spoke up,
"There should've been someone else entering besides White.
I'm sure I heard the main door open twice."
Everyone paused and glanced around.
Snape remarked coolly from the sidelines, "Polyjuice Potion."
Douglas thought, Nice try, but even without taking Advanced Potions, I know about that one.
He countered,
"Fair enough, but has anything gone missing from the Potions stores lately?"
He recalled that some Polyjuice Potion ingredients were so rare and expensive, they were almost exclusively in the hands of Potions Masters.
In the original story, anyone brewing Polyjuice always tried to steal from Snape's office.
Of course, Douglas had never attempted such a thing—he had no interest in becoming someone else.
Besides, he'd never believed it was easy to steal from Snape.
If he ever needed potion ingredients, he'd just sneak them from the classroom supplies—no one ever noticed a little missing from there.
Snape's face went rigid.
The other professors all turned to look at him.
He glared at Douglas.
"No! No student has ever dared steal from my office..."
Douglas nearly retorted, Wait until you're up against a young Voldemort—see if he dares.
But now wasn't the time. He just shrugged,
"Let's compare footprints first. If we really can't find anyone, then we'll consider the Polyjuice angle.
We'll check every student in the school—he can't use an outsider's shoes.
Once we find a match, we'll see who could have had contact with them..."
Everyone agreed this was sensible.
Professor Sprout volunteered to stay in the common room, enjoying the chance to see a different view than her usual in Hufflepuff.
The others, led by Professor Flitwick, made their way to Tom Cruise's dormitory.
When they entered, they found Tom Cruise lying in bed, face pale and tired, reading a book.
He coughed occasionally.
Seeing the group, he tried to get up, but Professor McGonagall stopped him gently.
"Poor child, you look dreadfully ill—why didn't you go to the hospital wing?"
Flitwick came over, concern etched on his face, and tapped the boy's chest lightly with his wand.
Almost instantly, Tom Cruise's color improved.
Snape watched the two Heads of House fuss over the boy and couldn't help interjecting,
"Professors, let's not forget why we're here."
Dumbledore reached into his pocket and offered Tom a piece of chocolate, his voice warm and reassuring,
"No need to be nervous. Try some chocolate—you might feel better."
Tom Cruise wanted to protest that he wasn't a child anymore, but he obediently accepted the chocolate anyway.
He couldn't understand why his illness had drawn the attention of three Heads of House, the Headmaster,
and, standing at the back of the group with a strange look in his eye, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.
After Professor Flitwick compared his shoes to the mysterious footprint,
everyone in the room froze.
It was a perfect match.
Even the sole's pattern was identical to the imprint on the parchment.
At first, Tom Cruise simply looked on in confusion,
but soon realized that the professors' faces had turned grave.
He even caught a glimpse of Professor Holmes's wand sliding from his sleeve into his hand.
Though Tom Cruise had no idea what was happening, the tension made him instinctively reach for his own wand under his pillow.
That movement made everyone tense up. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape both drew their wands,
taking up positions at Dumbledore's left and right, shielding Douglas behind them.
Professor Flitwick quickly interjected,
"Wait, don't frighten the child.
Tom, don't be nervous—the professors just want to ask you a few questions.
Can you tell us why you didn't attend the feast tonight, and whether you visited Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"
Tom Cruise looked utterly bewildered and shook his head,
"I was sick today. I told the prefect and stayed in the dormitory the whole time.
I never went to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Besides, it's the girls' bathroom—why would I ever go in?"
Everyone frowned, including Dumbledore.
He could sense the boy was telling the truth.
Professor Flitwick's voice grew sharp,
"Mr. Cruise, can you explain why your footprint was found in that bathroom?"
Tom Cruise glanced at his shoes and the parchment, then hurriedly shook his head,
"Professor, I swear I never went to any bathroom.
I've been resting in bed since term started—my health's been poor, and lately my cold's gotten worse.
I've just been here, resting...
Professor, I'm not lying.
What's going on? Why do you think this footprint is mine?
I haven't left the dormitory at all."
His distress was so genuine, he was nearly in tears.
Dumbledore, too, felt the boy was telling the truth, and everyone began to relax, quickly offering comfort and reassurance.
But Douglas couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Not only did the footprints match, but the boy's physical state fit the description of someone whose life force had been drained.
Still, no one else seemed to suspect anything—especially not Dumbledore, who couldn't imagine Voldemort would be foolish enough to possess another student and show up right under his nose.
Just then, Snape suddenly asked in a cold, quiet voice:
"Have you ever heard of Tom Marvolo Riddle?"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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