— — — — — —
Fontaine stood there, completely caught off guard by how forcefully Dumbledore had responded. Now he was stuck in an awkward spot. Leaving would look bad, but staying didn't feel any better.
Keep talking tough and blow up at Dumbledore?
Yeah, right. That would be ridiculous.
The only reason he'd dared raise his voice earlier was because this was Hogwarts. Even if Dumbledore dropped his polite mask outside the school, here, in front of so many students, he wouldn't actually go for the kill.
But if he kept pushing… what if he really made the old man angry?
Standing at the entrance to the hall, Fontaine had his back to the students, but he could feel their eyes on him like needles prickling his skin. It made him deeply uncomfortable. The looks from the Ilvermorny students he'd brought with him were the worst. Their faces were full of confusion—and disappointment.
He let out a heavy snort and strode out of the hall.
If he couldn't solve the problem, the only option left was to get out of there first.
Dumbledore had already returned to his seat. He casually nudged aside Grindelwald, who had been enjoying the spectacle, then motioned for McGonagall to lean closer.
Lowering his voice, he said, "Please go and speak with Professor Fontaine. Convey my apologies… and try to calm him down."
McGonagall looked at Dumbledore with an expression that had probably never appeared on her face before. It was a complicated mix of disbelief and silent accusation.
Are you even human?
You just publicly tore the man apart in front of a hall full of students, made him lose face completely, and now you want ME to go apologize?
Why don't you do it yourself?
Dumbledore's old face reddened slightly. He knew perfectly well that what he was asking was rather shameless.
"I couldn't back down earlier," he explained. "The Quahog matter truly has nothing to do with me. If I had yielded, it would've looked like I was guilty."
"But… I understand Professor Fontaine's feelings. If I go explain now, he won't hear a word of it while he's this angry. So I'll have to trouble you with it, Minerva."
McGonagall sighed. Feeling helpless, she pushed herself up from her seat and made her way toward the door.
Only today did McGonagall realize that the greatest challenge of her career wasn't becoming the head of Gryffindor House.
It was ending up with a boss like this.
Dumbledore sounded like he was speaking quietly, but the staff table wasn't that large. The nearby headmasters had heard most of the exchange.
The irritation on their faces softened noticeably.
Just now, it might have seemed like only Fontaine had been humiliated, but as fellow "guests," they couldn't help feeling a bit of shared embarrassment themselves. Hearing Dumbledore's explanation—whether intentional or not—dissolved much of that discomfort.
At the same time, doubt crept into their minds.
Could it be that Pierce's death and Quahog's disappearance really had nothing to do with Dumbledore?
This was what reputation meant.
Dumbledore's standing, built up over decades, wasn't something that could collapse from a single outburst. As long as he said a few words, plenty of people would still choose to believe him.
And of course, old Dumbles still wanted to struggle a little. He couldn't let Tom dump the blame on him so easily.
But the very next moment, Grindelwald dealt him a heavy blow.
"Heh, Albus. You're still too modest," Grindelwald said with a light chuckle.
"It was only Pierce. A leader who'd barely been in office a few days. From the looks of it, he was more like a lapdog for MACUSA anyway. If he's dead, he's dead."
"As for that Quahog, he's no saint either. I heard the vampire Lester who stirred up chaos across Europe earlier came from America. Maybe that old bastard was behind it."
He leaned back slightly, eyes glinting. "You captured him, didn't you? How about handing him over to me for interrogation? I guarantee I can get you any answers you want."
Dumbledore's body stiffened.
He stared at Grindelwald in disbelief.
Are you trying to make sure everyone believes I'm the Dark Lord?
"Gellert, stop stirring trouble," Dumbledore said, forcing down his anger and maintaining a calm expression. "I said Quahog's disappearance has nothing to do with me. That means it has nothing to do with me."
"If you continue causing disruptions, then I must ask you to leave Hogwarts. You're not welcome here."
Grindelwald raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.
He finished the last of his lemonade, set the glass down on the table with a crisp clink, and stood up. Carrying his usual air of defiant arrogance, he strode out of the Great Hall.
The professors soon followed, leaving for their classes.
...
"Albus!"
A clear, youthful voice stopped Dumbledore, who had been lost in thought.
When he looked up, a gentle smile immediately spread across his face.
"Ariana."
"Thank you, brother." The girl's eyes sparkled, filled with admiration. "I knew you were the best brother to me. Just like Aberforth, you've always cared about me."
The moment he heard Ariana's words, Dumbledore's whole body trembled.
Worth it… it was all worth it!
He had turned the world upside down, pushed the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards to his death, and nearly exposed the entire magical world. And for what?
To protect Ariana. To earn his family's approval.
Dumbledore's old face broke into a grin so wide it practically bloomed like a tulip. His tone grew light again, but beneath it lay an unshakable resolve.
"Ariana, I told you before. I won't let anyone hurt you."
"Mhm, mhm. Albus, you're the best." Ariana nodded eagerly. "I didn't believe it before, but I do now. I should get to class."
With that, Ariana skipped away with a few girls trailing behind her. Watching his sister's lively figure disappear down the hall, Dumbledore felt like he'd suddenly grown several years younger.
And this time Ariana wasn't pretending; she genuinely was in a wonderful mood. Everything had gone far more smoothly than she had anticipated, and her dear brother Albus had finally changed.
If anything happened later, all she had to do was act a little spoiled. No matter what she wanted, Albus would probably help her.
That meant she could help Tom even better!
Meanwhile, Dumbledore returned to his office in high spirits. He needed to think about how to reduce the fallout, so the upcoming Championship and the students at school wouldn't be affected.
---
In the Charms classroom, Daphne had become the center of attention.
Many people already knew Tom Riddle had appeared at the scene. After all, he had shown himself near the end. Daphne hadn't been seen, but she and Tom had both taken leave at the same time, and she'd returned to school alongside Tom. It didn't take a genius to guess where she'd gone.
It wasn't just the students who were curious. Even Professor Flitwick wanted to hear the details.
"But everything I know is already in the newspaper," Daphne said, blinking innocently with wide eyes. "Tom took me there to watch the excitement… I mean, to assist the headmaster. That huge flying serpent was the mythical Quetzalcoatl. It was incredibly powerful. If Usaki hadn't stepped in, the headmaster wouldn't have dealt with it so easily."
"What about after that?" Zabini asked impatiently. "What happened next?"
"After that, Tom took me to stop the magical world from being exposed and helped wipe the Muggles' memories." Daphne sighed dramatically. "For the sake of world peace, Tom has sacrificed so much."
Even while satisfying everyone's curiosity, Daphne didn't forget to heap praise on her boyfriend, leaving the students around her speechless.
Since she knew exactly what she wasn't allowed to reveal, Daphne kept the conversation focused on Quetzalcoatl and Rayquaza. That at least satisfied everyone's curiosity about the battle itself. As for everything that happened afterward, she didn't say a single word.
It left people with a lingering sense of frustration.
Still, it didn't take long for everything Daphne said in class to spread throughout the entire school.
Gradually, people's attention shifted toward Quetzalcoatl itself. The shock of myth becoming reality was far more gripping than the death of a Supreme Mugwump of the ICW.
Then, at lunchtime, an unexpected group arrived in the Great Hall.
Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour, and several squads of Aurors.
Yet none of those people made Fudge feel any safer.
Hundreds of international Aurors from the Confederation hadn't been able to protect Pierce. What good were the few behind him now?
But as Minister for Magic, he had no choice but to come.
What Dumbledore had done was basically trampling laws and regulations into the dirt. If he didn't show up and demand an explanation, the consequences would be severe.
To be precise, he was already drowning in trouble.
The Ministries of Magic in other countries and the International Confederation might not dare provoke Dumbledore, but they had no problem pushing Cornelius Fudge around.
Formal letters kept pouring in from all over the world, demanding that Fudge deal with Dumbledore's crimes according to British law.
At the same time, they repeatedly emphasized that the matter should be handled strictly under Britain's domestic laws and had nothing to do with them. They were merely "fulfilling their duty to remind him."
Damn it. You people don't dare confront Dumbledore yourselves, so you shove me out as the scapegoat?
But if he ignored it, ordinary citizens would start believing that Dumbledore stood above the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry's credibility would plummet, and governing in the future would become far more difficult.
Before coming here, Fudge had already reserved a bed at St. Mungo's. He'd planned to fake an illness and lie low while sending Umbridge to confront Dumbledore in his place.
But Amelia Bones had strongly insisted that he come personally. She'd even said that Riddle would provide support.
So Fudge had no choice but to grit his teeth and show up.
"Dumbledore!" Fudge shouted loudly, partly to steady his nerves. "I require you to provide the most detailed explanation possible regarding the dangerous incident in New York, to me and to the Wizengamot."
After a brief silence, Dumbledore nodded. "This isn't the place for such a discussion, Cornelius. Amelia, come with me."
Scrimgeour, standing beside Bones, looked completely baffled.
Wait a second.
Out of the Ministry's three top officials… you didn't even mention my name?
Isn't that discrimination?
.
.
.