Dumbledore's expression made Harry's heart practically break.
But just as he felt he was about to accept the fact that Sirius and the others were dead, he heard Dumbledore say in a hoarse voice, "Someone did die, but Sirius and Remus, they're only injured."
"Th-then… who's the one who died?"
Ron stepped forward to ask.
His voice sounded a little shaky.
Harry's heart, which had just sunk, suddenly rose again.
Ron's parents were members of the Order of the Phoenix too.
If that wonderfully kind couple had died…
"It was Fletcher," Dumbledore said with slightly reddened eyes, sounding sad. "Someone who had his little flaws, but was still a great warrior. He happened to be standing right in front of Tonks at the worst possible moment."
Ron stared blankly at Harry and Hermione, as if asking who this guy named Fletcher was.
"Mundungus Fletcher! You've met him before!"
Dumbledore reminded them.
But from his expression and tone, he seemed pretty angry that Ron and Harry had forgotten Fletcher.
And with that reminder, Harry remembered.
Mundungus Fletcher.
A short, chubby man with an unkempt beard and two short, bow-legged legs.
To be honest, Harry didn't like him.
He was too much of a wheeler-dealer.
He was always drooling over the antique Black family heirlooms in Sirius's house, trying to convince Sirius to sell them to him, claiming he'd give the best possible price.
If the person who'd died was him instead of someone else…
Harry would have been truly delighted.
But he couldn't think that way.
Because no matter how Fletcher had been in life, now he was a hero who had died in battle.
Those two conflicting feelings mixed together, leaving Harry wearing an incredibly strange expression.
Ron, beside him, was also struggling not to laugh.
Seeing Dumbledore's increasingly displeased look, Harry coughed sharply twice and changed the subject, "Professor Dumbledore, they, why did they go somewhere so dangerous? And my dream, my vision. What's really going on?"
As expected, Dumbledore's attention shifted.
His expression froze, and something odd flashed in his eyes. He shook his head at Harry, "These matters are confidential. I can't tell you."
Harry wanted to keep pressing, but Dumbledore continued, "However, you might want to visit Hagrid's hut."
"Why wou..."
Harry frowned instinctively, but before he finished, Hermione screamed, "You mean Hagrid is back?!"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
Receiving that confirmation, Harry and the others practically exploded with joy.
They hadn't seen their good friend for almost half a year.
Harry and the others were eager to leave; they politely said goodbye and hurried out of the office.
Harry didn't even bother to ask Dumbledore about anything else.
Because he knew, Hagrid would tell him everything.
Hagrid was that kind of person, someone who couldn't hide a secret.
Especially from them.
Once the trio disappeared, Professor McGonagall, who had been silent, slowly stepped closer and asked, "Is the situation very bad?"
"Can't say it's easy," Dumbledore said with a smile, "but it's not exactly dire yet."
"Then," Professor McGonagall said, "do you need my help?"
"Of course, Minerva. You've always been my best help, I can't do without you."
Hearing that, a faint smile began to spread across Professor McGonagall's face.
But she hadn't smiled for long before Dumbledore added, "Without you, I don't even know how much trouble those mischievous students would stir up. So promise me, help me look after those students, and this school, alright?"
The smile disappeared from Professor McGonagall's face.
She stared at Dumbledore seriously, lips pressed tightly together.
A moment later, without saying a word, she straightened her robes and left the office without looking back.
Bang!
The office door slammed shut.
The force was so strong it nearly shook Fawkes the phoenix off his perch.
And as she left, Dumbledore's expression turned cold.
He walked to the rack and stroked Fawkes gently, calming him.
But his gaze stayed fixed on the castle grounds outside the tall window.
There, excited, Harry and his friends were running toward Hagrid's hut.
"Things are getting worse and worse, aren't they, Dumbledore?"
From the wall behind him, an elderly man with a goat-like beard who looked somewhat like Sirius spoke from inside his portrait.
Dumbledore did not reply.
He didn't even turn around, as if he hadn't heard him at all.
"You're just going to let him run off to that fool Hagrid?" the white-bearded old man continued.
"You know his mind is connected to Voldemort's. Just like he can sense what's happening on Voldemort's end through dreams, Voldemort can also learn what's happening on your end through him.
Aren't you worried he'll leak information to Voldemort?"
Dumbledore finally turned, looking calmly at the old man, "Anything Hagrid knows and leaks isn't real information."
"Ah, here we go again! Dumbledore, you're always like this, you use everyone you can use to achieve your goals, no matter how close they are to you, no matter the cost! That damn Sorting Hat was really negligent. You should've been sorted into Slytherin when you were a student!"
The old man muttered angrily, but soon seemed to remember something and laughed, "But imagine if they knew they were being used by you. For example, that Harry Potter. If he knew that your care for him was merely an upfront investment and some compensation, and that you're ready to destroy him at any moment, that coincidence-born Horcrux, just like slaughtering a pig, what do you think he'd feel?"
"Honestly, I think you're even more Slytherin than we Slytherins!"
"Tell me the truth, isn't your Dumbledore family secretly descended from a Slytherin lord?"
Dumbledore didn't answer; he simply stared coldly at the portrait.
And as the two spoke, the other portraits on the walls all turned their eyes toward them.
The old man seemed to enjoy being the center of attention and continued, "Maybe you think you're the righteous one here, but honestly, we don't care who wins in the end, you or Voldemort."
"Because no matter who wins…"
"Neither of you would close Hogwarts or harm it."
"You both have deep affection for this school. And this school is crucial to your ambitions."
"Even if Voldemort ends up winning, the worst that happens is Hogwarts changes its teaching approach a bit."
"What's the big deal?"
"Hogwarts has had countless headmasters in its history, each with different educational philosophies!"
"There have even been those far more extreme than Voldemort."
"Oh right! And that Link Flamel, your little ally."
"He hasn't been behaving, has he?"
"Started some factory, and then started the D.A. too."
"You can't possibly not see it, can you?"
"He's also eyeing Hogwarts, wanting to use the Ministry of Magic to drive you out."
"Honestly, compared to you and Voldemort, I actually like that Link Flamel kid more."
"Judging from bloodline, ability, and wealth, he's a perfect example of a noble."
"Someone like him wouldn't be an idealist like you, nor would he turn everything into a bloody mess like Voldemort. He'd make a fine headmaster."
"Have you really not considered giving the position to him?"
As the goat-bearded old man went on, the mockery on his face grew so thick it was practically overflowing.
And strangely, aside from a few portraits shouting in protest, the rest remained silent.
They simply stared at Dumbledore with the same mocking look as the goat-bearded man.
It was obvious, they agreed with him completely.
Dumbledore's gaze swept across all those sneering faces, growing colder and colder.
Fawkes felt his mood shifting too.
The phoenix tilted his head, lowered himself, ready to strike at any moment.
The next second, Dumbledore swung his arm sharply.
A violent gust of wind suddenly rose in the office, and pieces of black cloth in the corners flew up and slapped over the portraits' faces.
The office became quiet again.
As the current headmaster of Hogwarts, he had authority over everything in the castle.
This was the power granted by the Four Founders.
A few former headmasters' portraits were not enough to override that.
After finishing all this, Dumbledore returned to the tall window.
Harry and the others had already reached the hut.
———
[Hogwarts Grounds]
[Inside Hagrid's Hut]
Hagrid was sitting on a four-meter-wide bed, which, for him, was only big enough for one, carefully spreading a gray-brown ointment on his arm.
His hair was a tangled mess with clots of blood in it. His left eye was swollen into a slit, bruised purple and blue.
His face and neck were covered in wounds, some still bleeding.
As he applied the ointment, he kept sucking in sharp breaths, his whole body moving stiffly, his ribs were broken.
But to Hagrid, none of this really mattered.
Thanks to his half-giant blood, even with no treatment at all, he'd heal completely within half a month.
He had plenty of experience with this.
Being the Hogwarts gamekeeper wasn't exactly a comfortable job.
The creatures in the Forbidden Forest weren't any friendlier to him than to anyone else.
The worst injury on him was actually the arm he was treating.
A Death Eater had sliced it open with a Sectumsempra curse, deep enough for the bone to show.
A curse-inflicted wound like that could only be healed by a specific counter-curse. No other method worked.
Luckily, those Death Eaters' Sectumsempra spells all traced back to Snape, and after Snape had used the counter-curse, the wound had closed.
Unfortunately, he had waited too long.
The deeper bone and nerves had suffered damage and now required ongoing potion treatment.
A moment later, Hagrid finally finished applying the medicine.
His tangled hair was soaked with sweat, and the sweat stung the wounds on his face, making him scrunch up his expression in pain.
Hagrid wiped his forehead and had just reached down to pat Fang, who was wagging his tail beside him, when three orderly knocks sounded at the door.
Hagrid frowned.
Fang, who had just been lying quietly, suddenly leapt up and barked wildly at the door.
"Hagrid! It's us!"
Harry's familiar voice came from outside, and Hagrid relaxed immediately.
"I should've guessed!"
A smile broke across the part of Hagrid's face not hidden by hair and beard. Pushing Fang aside with his foot, he hobbled toward the door. "I only just got back half an hour ago. Move, Fang, you sleepy lump…"
Creak!
The latch was pulled, and the wooden door opened.
Hagrid beamed at the trio outside, the pain in his body easing just from seeing them.
But once Harry and the others saw Hagrid's condition, the excitement on their faces vanished.
Replaced entirely by shock.
"Oh my gosh! Hagrid! Did you go pick a fight with a dragon?!"
Hermione screamed, covering her face.
"Shh! Keep your voice down! Don't let anyone hear!"
Hagrid warned, dragging all three into the hut, glancing nervously outside for a moment before shutting the door.
Even inside, he didn't stop.
He quickly pulled the curtains closed.
The hut darkened at once, leaving only the flickering firelight from the stone fireplace.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched silently as Hagrid rushed around. Only when he sat back down on the bed did Harry frown and ask, "Hagrid… those injuries… what happened?"
Hagrid tried to speak casually, "Nothing much. Just got scratched by a few nasty bird monsters."
He limped over to put a copper kettle on the fire. "Want some tea?"
Ron and Hermione shook their heads repeatedly. They still remembered Hagrid's cooking skills all too well.
Negative memories, for the most part.
Harry, meanwhile, was frowning as he looked around the hut.
It was dirtier than the last time he'd visited, everything covered in a thin layer of dust.
On the floor was a huge backpack big enough to fit several children, and a dragon-hide boot with the sole nearly worn through.
Hagrid must've been traveling for a long time and only just got back.
Harry reached that conclusion quickly.
On the other side, Hagrid totally ignored Ron and Hermione's refusal and still poured each of them a "basin" of tea, though for Hagrid, those basins counted as cups.
When his eyes fell on Harry, his brows furrowed in concern, "Harry, you look awful. Are you sick?"
Harry took a deep breath and asked seriously, "Hagrid… did you, I mean you and Sirius and the others, were you attacked by Voldemort and the Death Eaters?"
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