"…Has the investigation team gone mad?"
"…Has Dumbledore gone mad?"
"…Have I gone mad?"
"Or… has the world itself gone mad?!"
These were the thoughts racing through Avada's mind—as well as through the minds of everyone standing in front of the notice board.
"H-how is this possible…" Avada muttered blankly. The impact of the notice was no less shocking to him than that mysterious sphere of light had been before. "Are you sure Fred and George didn't sneak in and pull a prank? Or is today actually April Fools' Day?!"
"Neither…" Cedric said hoarsely. "The notice bears the Hogwarts seal. That's absolutely impossible to forge. Which means everything written on it is true…"
"Mad… everyone's gone mad…"
For a moment, the Hufflepuff common room fell into near-total silence, broken only by scattered, dazed murmurs.
The reason for this Lovecraftian scene was simple enough: the contents of the newly posted notice.
The culprit behind the coma incidents had been found.
Not only found—but already dealt with.
And this was only two weeks after the investigation team had entered the school.
If that were all, the students would probably have merely marveled at the team's incredible efficiency, then happily raided the kitchens to throw a celebratory feast. What truly left everyone dumbfounded, however, was the description of the "culprit" itself, and the full truth of the case.
According to the notice, Hogwarts' water pipeline system had undergone a major overhaul in the eighteenth century. At the time, the original pipes were severely aged and damaged, and by the standards of that era, poorly designed. Maintenance costs were exorbitant, so the school decided to construct an entirely new pipeline system and abandon the old one.
As a result, Hogwarts Castle had long contained a second, unused pipeline network. Although the castle's defenses were tight, nearly three hundred years had passed, and the abandoned pipes had been largely forgotten. With no maintenance, the defensive enchantments around them inevitably deteriorated, and the likelihood of outside interference steadily increased…
Under these circumstances, at some unknown point in time, a group of Banshees entered the pipeline system from outside and made it their habitat, settling and breeding within it.
They were the true culprits behind the recent student coma incidents.
The faint, almost imperceptible shrieking sound each student heard before collapsing was, in fact, the cry of the Banshees within the pipes.
As for why students and the Banshees had coexisted peacefully for so many years, only for comas to begin occurring this very school year, the investigation team's explanation was even more unexpected—
It was because of the roosters.
For reasons unknown, this year Hogwarts' Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had insisted on adding large numbers of roosters into every painting in the school and having them crow frequently.
Although Dumbledore's eccentric behavior had long since become something the staff and students were used to, this time it produced an unforeseen consequence. The roosters' crowing was perceived by the Banshees in the pipes as a provocation, directly triggering them to retaliate in anger by unleashing their sonic magic—and the unfortunate students caught in the crossfire fell into comas.
Furthermore, the unique ecological environment within the pipeline system had driven a new evolutionary trend among the Banshees, concentrating their shrieks and greatly increasing their penetrating power. This explained why, even within a crowd, only one or two people would collapse—while those right beside them might have no idea anything had happened at all.
And just last night, the investigation team had entered the abandoned pipeline system and captured all the Banshees in one sweep, completely resolving the coma incidents.
Because the Banshees might have undergone mutations, they were sent to a magical creature research institution for detailed study. At long last, students could safely and carefree continue their studies and daily lives…
"…"
Everyone looked at one another, seeing the same shock and disbelief reflected in each other's eyes.
"Is it… really that simple?" someone said dazedly, rubbing their head. "If that's all it was, how could Professor Dumbledore not have discovered it? Or Professor Kettleburn? Or Professor Sprout?"
"They… actually had a chance to," Rolf said, looking as though his worldview had collapsed. "Professor Sprout once suspected that the cause of the comas might very well be Banshees!"
"The professors even pursued that line of investigation. I took part in it myself… We searched the castle with everything we had for any trace related to Banshees—but in the end, we found nothing!"
"That's right!" another student suddenly remembered. "I also recall Professor Sprout once having us check the Mandrakes in the greenhouses—it happened during that investigation too! They'd suspected magical creatures from the very beginning!"
"Then… does that mean the investigation team's seemingly absurd explanation is actually completely reasonable?!"
"Even so, it still feels ridiculous…"
"Reality is often like that, isn't it? I mean, last year even You-Know-Who managed to sneak in—so what's so strange about a few Banshees getting into the pipes? Don't you think…?"
"Hey—where's Ken?"
…
"Sherbet Lemon!"
"Cockroach Cluster!"
"Blood-Flavored Lollipops!"
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans!"
"Lemonade!"
"Chocolate Frogs!!"
As the stone gargoyle leapt aside, Avada immediately rushed up the spiral staircase and knocked urgently on the door to Dumbledore's office—only to find it slightly ajar. From inside came a chaotic chorus of raised voices.
"You know it's impossible, Professor! I'll swear it on my limbs!"
"The old pipeline's outlet is located directly in the depths of the Black Lake! Even if all the magical defenses and filtration systems failed, tell me—what kind of Banshee could dive dozens of meters underwater?!"
"But… maybe…" Hagrid's rough, hesitant voice chimed in. "Didn't the investigation team say those Banshees showed a new evolutionary trend? Maybe they really can dive?"
"Do you seriously think that's possible, Hagrid?!"
"I reckon I could manage it, given enough time…"
"You're a magical creature expert!!"
Kettleburn finally roared in frustration. "If you wanted to achieve that, you'd need to raise a huge population of Banshees, conduct incredibly precise research and modification of their magic, and find ways to ensure those modifications were inherited! Even then, it'd take you years!"
"But according to those pure-bloods, the Banshees underwent natural mutation!"
"Nature contains all possibilities…"
"Enough, Silvanus. Hagrid."
An aged, low voice—yet one that seemed to carry power—rang out, instantly silencing the two who had been arguing so fiercely. "I am aware of all the information you've gathered. I will make a decision on this matter. Rest assured."
"And besides, we shouldn't keep our guest waiting any longer…"
"Ken, did you need something from me?"
(End of Chapter)