Chapter 329. The Outcome and the Ball
"Calm yourself, Ms Skeeter."
Albus Dumbledore glanced at the corpse, his expression grave as he rose to his feet.
He walked up to Adrian Wesson and asked, "Professor Wesson, can you tell me what happened?"
Adrian gave a concise account of events, including Lord Voldemort's manifestation through the Dark Mark.
At the mention of "Tom," Dumbledore's eyes flickered behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Interesting," Dumbledore mused. "It seems Tom holds you in particular regard."
Then he turned his gaze to Rita Skeeter.
"Have you anything to say, Ms Skeeter?" Dumbledore said mildly. "Professor Wesson suspects you brought that Dark wizard into Hogwarts."
Rita Skeeter's eyes bulged; she shook her head furiously to protest her innocence.
"I swear I don't know anything!" she finally found her voice. "I only came to do an interview. As for a Dark wizard… how could I have any dealings with them, let alone bring one to Hogwarts!"
"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked again. His voice was very calm, but Rita felt an unprecedented pressure.
"Yes," she replied at the fastest speed of her life.
Adrian sighed inwardly.
Although he was almost certain the Dark wizard had been brought in by Rita, the wizard was stone-cold dead now, and the evidence had vanished.
Dumbledore, of course, understood this. "I cannot draw conclusions without evidence, Ms Skeeter," he said.
Rita visibly let out a breath and patted her chest theatrically. "Thank you for your understanding, Headmaster Dumbledore! I knew you were the fairest—"
"However," Dumbledore gently cut across her, "entering Hogwarts without permission is certainly not the right thing to do."
Rita's smile froze on her face.
"By regulation," Dumbledore went on, his tone still kindly, "uninvited visitors must undergo certain necessary checks by the Ministry of Magic."
"I've never heard of such a regulation," Rita said, her face turning a shade uglier.
"Ah, yes, but it was newly added during the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore blinked. "If you have questions, you may ask Mr Bagman or Mr Crouch."
Hearing this from Dumbledore, Rita forced herself to say, "Mm… I suppose so. I'll cooperate with your work."
Just a small inspection.
She could get through it.
That was basic skill for an excellent journalist.
And… she had already hidden all the leads.
They wouldn't find evidence.
Even so, she felt a twinge of regret.
The Dark wizard had indeed been someone she'd found—but she hadn't meant to have Adrian killed, only to give him a lesson, a warning.
But… she hadn't known it would be tied to Death Eaters.
Wait, this sounded like a huge piece of news!
"Very well," Dumbledore nodded. "Mr Bagman is still at Hogwarts for the moment. In a while, Professor McGonagall will take you for the inspection. I hope you'll be prepared."
Soon after, Rita Skeeter was led away by the hastily arriving Professor McGonagall—Dumbledore had sent a message to her by Patronus.
For the moment, only Adrian and Dumbledore remained in the Headmaster's office.
And the body that had been casually left on the floor.
Dumbledore returned to his chair and asked Adrian solemnly, "When Tom appeared before you, what exactly did he say?"
Adrian thought for a moment. "Let me think… only a few threats. Ah, yes, he said the day of his resurrection was not far off."
"That we already know."
Dumbledore frowned slightly. "Anything else?"
Adrian shook his head.
"And this body," Dumbledore continued, "do you know who he was?"
Adrian cast a glance at the poor fellow and shook his head again.
"Wait," he realised something, took out the two wands taken from the Dark wizard, and turned them over in his hands. "Perhaps Mr Ollivander might know something. He can recognise every wand's master."
In the end, Ollivander did not identify the owners of the wands.
Of course, it was not that Ollivander couldn't recognise them.
It was that the masters of these two wands had been dead for who knew how many years.
Honestly, it was rather impressive that Ollivander could remember the wands of the dead at all.
After that, Adrian stopped concerning himself with the corpse and decisively bowed out, leaving it directly to Dumbledore.
Troublesome matters like this were for the Headmaster to resolve.
As for Rita Skeeter's eventual outcome—only a small fine. Nothing at all to her.
As if everything that had happened that day was merely a brief interlude.
To tell the truth, the woman was even more foolish than Adrian had imagined.
She had actually dared bring a Dark wizard into Hogwarts to deal with him—of course, it wasn't impossible she had been coerced, but Adrian inclined more to the former.
He considered whether to expose Rita Skeeter's Animagus status—not for anything else, but simply to cause her some trouble.
In the end, he abandoned the idea.
Because perhaps later he might need to coerce Rita into writing something in her reports.
After this lesson, he believed she would recognise the lay of the land.
Time slipped to mid-December.
As in years past, by this point at Hogwarts the snow had been falling for a while.
The castle lay under a thick white coverlet; frost crusted the corridor windows, and the distant Black Lake had frozen into a vast mirror.
And with the snow came the approaching Christmas.
Ten days before Christmas, the students received stirring news in the morning—by the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, there would be a grand ball on Christmas night; students in fourth year and above would need to find a partner.
That afternoon, Harry discussed the matter with his friends in the common room.
"Professor McGonagall says, as a Champion, I have to lead the first dance," Harry said, agitated. "I can't dance at all."
"Me neither," Ron replied absent-mindedly.
"Oh, I do know a bit…"
Hermione hadn't even finished before two strange looks swung her way.
"What is it?" she asked.
"When did you learn?" Harry asked.
"My mum taught me before."
"Oh, unimaginable…" Ron muttered under his breath at the side.
However, that line annoyed Hermione.
"All right then, Ron," she said, cheeks puffed. "Don't count on me to teach you."
With that, she left the common room at once.
Seeing this, Harry asked cautiously, "You've set her off?"
"No," Ron scratched the back of his head in confusion. "What's she angry about?"
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