As McGonagall left, Dumbledore let out a long breath of relief.
"That was close… thankfully, I didn't give myself away…" he muttered to himself, sitting back behind the desk.
McGonagall was arguably the person in the world who understood Dumbledore best—perhaps even better than Dumbledore's own brother, Aberforth.
They had worked together as Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress for decades, not to mention the many years before that as colleagues and as teacher and student.
It could be said that McGonagall knew every detail of Dumbledore's habits and daily behavior inside and out.
Thankfully, this first test had passed smoothly…
Still, he couldn't afford to relax. There was a long road ahead, and the fact that Albus Dumbledore had left Britain had to remain confidential, to be revealed only at the right time.
He glanced at the wall covered in portraits of Hogwarts' former headmasters and headmistresses and asked softly, "Everyone, could you tell me in detail about Professor Dumbledore's mannerisms and behavioral habits?"
"Of course…"
"…Albus is very fond of sweets…"
"…and when he speaks, he has a habit of pushing up his half-moon spectacles…"
The portraits immediately began chattering away.
...
The entire morning passed with Jon questioning the portraits about various "details" concerning Albus Dumbledore.
When the clock pointed to noon and his stomach let out a loud growl, Jon suddenly realized something—
He was hungry.
Yes. Ever since last night, he had barely eaten anything.
Jon debated whether he should go to the Great Hall for lunch. After all, he would inevitably run into plenty of professors there—what if he slipped up and aroused their suspicion?
Moreover, based on his memories from previous years, Dumbledore was often absent from the Headmaster's seat during mealtimes.
That alone proved that the Headmaster of Hogwarts certainly had the privilege of not dining in the Great Hall.
The question was—how was he supposed to get the house-elves to deliver food to the Headmaster's Office?
Jon scanned the room until his gaze finally settled on a long table behind him, covered with silver objects.
They were exquisitely crafted silver figurines, each depicting something different—a tabby cat, a mermaid, a mouse…
In the end, Jon picked up a silver figurine shaped like a house-elf.
"Just tap it lightly with your wand," Phineas Black's lazy voice drifted over from the side.
Jon nodded. He first took out his emerald bamboo wand, then hesitated and switched to the wand that had once belonged to Dumbledore—the Elder Wand.
He gently tapped the house-elf-shaped silver figurine—
Nothing happened.
There were no house-elves Apparating into the office to ask what he wanted, just as Jon had imagined.
Just as he began to suspect that Phineas had tricked him, something extraordinary occurred—
On the far side of the long table, platter after platter of beautifully prepared food appeared out of thin air.
Roast beef, sausages, baked sweet potatoes, rich carrot stew… all of it smelled wonderful.
And there were even more desserts—large scoops of ice cream in every flavor, apple pies, honey biscuits, chocolate sponge cakes, jam-filled fritters, strawberries, custard, rice pudding…
The long table was almost completely filled.
"So this is the treatment Hogwarts' Headmaster gets," Jon muttered contentedly as he ate with evident enthusiasm.
Though he made a mental note to subtly hint to the house-elves later that Albus Dumbledore's tastes had changed—there was no need to prepare quite so many sweets in the future.
"Hmph," Phineas scoffed disdainfully from behind him. "You call this good? Back when I was Headmaster, there was at least twice as much food. Armando and Albus kept cutting it back—that's why there's only this much left now."
Jon ignored him and deliberately chewed as loudly as possible.
Infuriated, Phineas snorted and stormed off.
...
After finishing the lavish lunch, Jon followed the former headmasters' instructions and tapped the house-elf figurine once more with the old wand.
The plates, food, and even the crumbs vanished instantly. The table became spotless, as though the feast had never existed at all.
"She's coming," Dexter Fortescue appeared once again on the portrait wall. "Jon, you should prepare yourself…"
"Oh? Who is it?"
"Hermione Granger from Gryffindor. Didn't you ask her to come see you at noon?" Fortescue said, slightly out of breath.
"We agreed on one o'clock. It's only twelve forty-five!"
With no choice, Jon hurriedly took another sip from the teapot filled with Polyjuice Potion—infused with Albus Dumbledore's hair.
Fortunately, Hermione Granger didn't barge in as Jon had feared.
"She's been waiting outside the whole time," Dexter Fortescue reported after checking again, his tone tinged with approval. "A very polite young lady."
When the hour hand finally pointed to one—
"Syrup Tart!"
A clear voice sounded from outside the door, followed by the sound of the spiral staircase moving upward.
...
Hermione Granger stepped cautiously into the Headmaster's Office, her expression tinged with unease.
It was obvious that she was curious about everything around her, yet she forced herself to keep her gaze fixed on the desk straight ahead.
After all, for this Muggle-born girl, this was her first time ever entering the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts.
"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore," she said nervously.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," Albus Dumbledore replied with a gentle smile. "My apologies for interrupting your lunch break."
"N-no, it's fine," Hermione smiled, her nervousness quickly easing.
"Please, have a seat." Dumbledore gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.
Without any preamble, he took out a smooth, silvery-gray cloak and placed it in front of her.
"This is…" Hermione froze for a moment.
"Yes, this is Mr. Potter's Invisibility Cloak," Dumbledore said calmly. "Mr. Filch found it this morning outside the Gryffindor common room. I believe that when you return it, you should remind Mr. Potter not to misplace something so important."
"I understand," Hermione nodded quickly, carefully picking up the cloak.
"But…" She hesitated, then asked softly, "Why didn't you ask Harry to come and collect it himself?"
Because Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore are far too familiar with each other. If he came in person, there's a real chance he'd notice I'm a fake. You, on the other hand, hardly know Dumbledore at all—you're much easier to fool… Jon thought silently.
Naturally, he didn't say that aloud.
Instead, he spoke in a composed, matter-of-fact tone.
"Does it truly make a difference, Miss Granger? Whether you bring it to Mr. Potter or he comes here himself—it's much the same, isn't it?"
Dumbledore smiled and pushed up his half-moon spectacles.
"If I do have any intention at all, it's simply this—I'd like you to remind him that being careless isn't a good habit. Sometimes, advice from a friend works better than a lecture from an old man."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
"Then I'll be going now, Professor Dumbledore," she said, standing and bowing deeply.
She turned to leave, but before reaching the door, she stopped and looked back.
"Professor Dumbledore… Harry told me this morning that he saw Jon Hart, covered in blood, outside the Gryffindor common room," she said haltingly. "He thought it was just a nightmare, because he believed Jon was already dead… but I know Jon isn't actually dead… so did he take advantage of the situation to steal—no, to take—the Invisibility Cloak?"
So she managed to guess the truth even then… Jon thought to himself. Looks like I'll have to mislead her.
"Of course not," Albus Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "The Invisibility Cloak was given to me by Mr. Filch. I don't know what happened before he found it, but I can assure you that Jon Hart is definitely not at Hogwarts right now."
"Not at Hogwarts… then could it be…"
Hermione's face paled as she cried out anxiously, "Professor Dumbledore—does that mean Jon is working as your undercover agent among the Death Eaters? Wouldn't that be incredibly dangerous?"
On the portrait wall, Phineas Black clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
Several other headmasters twitched at the corners of their mouths as well.
Fortunately, Hermione's attention remained fixed on the Headmaster, and she noticed none of it.
Albus Dumbledore's expression didn't change in the slightest as he replied calmly, "That is not something you need concern yourself with, Miss Granger."
"I'm very sorry, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione apologized at once.
"I'll take my leave."
With that, she lowered her head and left the Headmaster's Office.