Chapter 169: The showdown, but not completely
Before long, Filch arrived with Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress.
She looked at Nick, who was floating in mid-air, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was lying on the ground, completely at a loss, and it took her a while to react.
"Professor, I know you might not believe it, but I really didn't do this," Aaron said helplessly. "Of course, Harry Pottercouldn't have done it either."
"Yes, Professor, I swear, this has nothing to do with me," Harry immediately said. "It was like this when I arrived."
"I can't handle this," Professor McGonagall shook her head. "You two, come with me."
Professor McGonagall led them to the Headmaster's Officedoor, spoke the password, and the self-rotating staircase slowly ascended, carrying them up.
Looking at the gleaming oak door, Harry couldn't help but swallow, worried about his impending fate.
Aaron, however, shrugged. It wasn't his first time here, so he wasn't as anxious.
Professor McGonagall knocked a few times on the door, and it slowly opened.
"Go in and wait. Professor Dumbledore will be very happy to see you."
"Let's go!" Aaron patted Harry's shoulder, smiling reassuringly. "Don't worry, trust me, nothing will happen.
The great Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't expel us just because we happened to be on the scene."
Harry nodded blankly, following Aaron into the Headmaster's Office.
Aaron wasn't so reserved; he directly found a chair and sat down. Abey, meanwhile, involuntarily looked at Fawkes, the Phoenix, and managed to resist the urge to turn him into roast chicken.
"It's you." The Sorting Hat, which had been snoring, suddenly opened its eyes, then saw Aaron waving at it, and immediately became furious.
"Hi! It's been over three months, and I've missed you so much!"
"I don't want to see you," the Sorting Hat squeezed out an angry expression. "In hundreds of years, you are the most embarrassing young Wizard I have ever encountered."
"Be more magnanimous!" Aaron grinned, pulled out his wand, slowly approached, and picked it up.
"You, what do you want to do? Put me down!" The Sorting Hat shouted in panic. The expression on Aaron's face made it feel suffocated, a feeling it hadn't had since over a year ago.
"Scream all you want; even if you scream until your throat is hoarse, Dumbledore won't come to save you."
"Help, help me!
Potter, quick, help me, please."
"This..." Harry hesitated for a moment, looking at Aaronwith some reluctance. "Just put it down, after all, this is the Headmaster's Office."
"Just a moment." Aaron smiled meaningfully, and with a flick of his wand, "Scourgify."
"No..."
Along with a mournful wail, a year's worth of dust accumulated on the Sorting Hat completely vanished.
"That's much better.
If you had just behaved, I wouldn't have done anything to you, but you just had to stick your head out!"
The Sorting Hat glared angrily at Aaron, regretting that the four founders hadn't given it two hands, otherwise it would have slapped him. Although it probably couldn't win, at least it could have symbolically resisted.
Just then, a strange sound came from the desk. Fawkes cried out in Pain!, and crimson flames erupted around him.
The flames burned fiercely, Fawkes was enveloped in a fireball, and his cries became clearer but increasingly faint.
"Water, where is there water?"
Harry said in a panic, his eyes constantly scanning everything around him, trying to find anything that could put out the fire.
But before he could find anything, the fireball turned into a pile of unburnt ashes, which fell onto the desk.
"This is terrible. That's Dumbledore's bird!" Harry clutched his hair, his face incredibly bitter.
He was already suspected of being the perpetrator of a series of attacks and on the verge of expulsion. Now, in the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore's pet had been inexplicably cremated, and besides that bird, there was only himself and... "Aaron, tell me honestly, did you do this?"
"Hey, hey, hey, falsely accusing someone comes at a price.
This bird was destined for this day sooner or later; we just happened to witness it."
Harry's breathing was ragged, the anger in his eyes almost impossible to suppress.
Coincidence, coincidence, always coincidence.
The unfortunate thing was that coincidence was the last thing he believed in now. Someone definitely wanted to frame him, and who that person was, was self-evident.
"Mr. Gaius is quite right." Dumbledore suddenly descended the stairs, smiling. "It was about time; I've always wanted Fawkes to hurry up."
"Professor, your bird..." Harry said anxiously. "I couldn't save him."
"Fawkes is not a bird; he is a Phoenix.
When a Phoenix is about to die, it spontaneously combusts and is reborn from its ashes. Few people get the chance to see it."
Dumbledore walked up to the ashes, and a small red chick, about the size of a pigeon, poked its head out of the ashes, making the same sound as before, but full of ease and joy.
"Phoenixes are magical creatures, with exceptional carrying capacity, and their tears can heal wounds." Dumbledorelooked at the reborn Phoenix with great satisfaction. "He is usually very beautiful, with golden and red feathers, and he is also particularly loyal."
Abey suddenly jumped onto the desk, standing proudly in front of the tiny Fawkes. The bright white Holy Dragon and the ugly Phoenix in the ashes immediately formed a stark contrast.
Aaron awkwardly picked him up. "The scene of your birth was far more sacred than being reborn from fire; there's no need to compare yourself to him. You are unique."
Hearing this, Abey beamed, rubbing vigorously against Aaron's embrace.
Harry quickly recovered from the Phoenix's rebirth. He gazed into Dumbledore's blue eyes, wanting to explain what had happened today, but the words caught in his throat.
"Principal, I suppose you already know about Nick and Justin."
"Of course, I know. Filch is determined to get justice for Madam Norris and has no intention of keeping it a secret.
Certain news always travels very fast at Hogwarts." Dumbledore said meaningfully, "However, if everyone were to vote for the heir, only one out of ten votes would be yours."
"Because I'm not a Parselmouth," Aaron said exasperatedly. "Not good news, but it makes me feel a bit lighter.
Still, I'm quite envious of those who are born knowing a foreign language, unlike me, who has to learn it later."
Just then, the office door suddenly opened, and Hagrid burst in, carrying a dead rooster.
"Professor Dumbledore, it wasn't Harry," Hagrid said urgently, waving the dead rooster, feathers falling everywhere.
"I can swear to it in front of the Ministry of Magic.
In short, sir, you've got the wrong person."
"Ahem!" Aaron interjected, "Hagrid, did you forget something?"
"Right, it couldn't have been Aaron either. I believe him."
"Hagrid," Dumbledore drew out his voice, "I never said I didn't believe them."
"Alright, oh..." A hint of embarrassment appeared on Hagrid's face. "Then I'll wait for you outside."
"Wait, Hagrid." Aaron stopped him, looking at the dead rooster. "What is this?"
"This is the fourth one to die in this period," Hagrid sighed regretfully. "There weren't many chickens in the coop to begin with. It's probably either a fox or a vampiric creature.
I plan to cast a spell on the coop when I get back, but that requires Headmaster Dumbledore's permission."
"Do as you wish, Hagrid," Dumbledore smiled.
Watching Hagrid leave the office, Aaron's mood was somewhat heavy.
Besides the two roosters he had stolen—no, protected—two more had been killed.
This meant that the Heir of Slytherin had begun eliminating threats. Perhaps he would soon order the Basilisk to attack again, and they had to be prepared!
"You don't think it was me, Professor?" Harry asked, full of anticipation.
Dumbledore nodded. "I don't think it was you."
"Thank you."
Harry was somewhat overwhelmed. When everyone else doubted him, Headmaster Dumbledore chose to believe him. What greater encouragement could there be?
"However, I still have to ask you both," Dumbledore said with a solemn expression, "Is there anything you want to tell me?"
Harry thought of all his suspicions about Aaron, and his heart instantly jumped.
He had many conjectures, but no evidence whatsoever. He couldn't possibly tell Dumbledore about the Polyjuice Potion, could he?
Moreover, Aaron was standing right there; scaring the snake out of its hole shouldn't be done so openly.
"Nothing, sir, nothing at all."
Dumbledore nodded, then looked at Aaron. "Mr. Gaius, what about you? Is there anything you want to tell me?"
"Uh... well..." Aaron hesitated for a while before a smile spread across his lips. "The Principal truly has discerning eyes!
I do have some things I've been keeping from you."
Harry looked at Aaron, somewhat taken aback. Even if you are the Heir of Slytherin, aren't you being a bit too arrogant?
The person sitting in front of you is the most powerful white Wizard of this century. Unless Salazar is resurrected, no one can protect you.
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly. "Is it very important?"
"Very important, Headmaster Dumbledore." Aaronemphasized the word 'Headmaster.' "I am willing to give you some respect, but this respect does not come from your status, but from your strength.
But I'm still very sorry, I cannot tell you what I did yet, because if it were to be discovered, Slytherin might lose ten or so points.
However, you can rest assured that what I did is absolutely beneficial and harmless to Hogwarts."