Once Jon finally understood the "truth"—
He had to forcibly suppress the urge to give Armando Dippet a furious scolding. Instead, he ordered him to return to Essex and explain everything properly to the magical portrait artist, Miss Christabel Bulstrode—making it clear that it had all been a misunderstanding and that no portrait was needed at all.
Fortunately, with reminders from several other headmasters, Dippet quickly realized that he had "caused trouble"…
Jon watched him leave in disgrace, then sat back down, torn between exasperation and amusement.
...
He hadn't even warmed his seat when a familiar song drifted in from outside the window.
A magnificent crimson bird was singing as she skillfully flew through the skylight of the Headmaster's Office.
Trailing a long, shimmering golden tail, she glided gracefully through the air before finally landing on the phoenix perch beside the desk.
"Oh?"
Jon glanced at Fawkes in mild surprise.
"Why are you back? Weren't you accompanying Professor Dumbledore?"
It wasn't that he was worried about Albus Dumbledore encountering danger on his journey.
After all, with Mr. Gellert Grindelwald at his side, any creature that could trouble them likely didn't even exist yet.
The phoenix lifted her head and looked at Jon, blinking at him. Her eyes, filled with golden light, seemed to be communicating something silently.
"Oh…"
Jon suddenly looked enlightened, then broke into a mischievous grin.
"I get it—you didn't want to be stuck between the two of them as the third wheel, did you?"
Fawkes shot him a frosty glare, then turned around and presented him with her tail, clearly displeased.
"Come to think of it…" Jon continued from behind her, "didn't Mr. Grindelwald also keep a very rare Lethifold? Why don't you go make a pair with that one?"
A faint glow of flame suddenly flared around Fawkes. She snapped her head back and glared furiously at Jon.
That indignant look all but shouted at him: Don't you dare compare me to some lowly magical creature like a Lethifold!
Still unsatisfied, the scarlet bird angrily swooped toward Jon—
"Ow!" Jon cried out, clutching his arm.
The phoenix had "viciously" pecked him.
...
After considerable effort—and several pouches of herbs—Jon finally managed to placate Fawkes.
At the same time, he took the opportunity to "bribe" her into giving him a few drops of phoenix tears. Not only did they heal the peck wound on his arm, he even managed to save a few extra drops for later use.
Meanwhile, he took advantage of the time to unpack some items from his suitcase and place them around the Headmaster's Office. After all, he might be staying here for quite a while.
He put his daily necessities into the small side room that housed the Pensieve, ensuring that passing teachers or students wouldn't spot them and grow suspicious.
As for the large pile of potion ingredients and medicinal herbs, Jon cleared out a cabinet and sorted them neatly inside. To prevent Fawkes from sneaking a bite, he even locked it.
Naturally, he also took out a teapot filled with "liquid" and placed it prominently on the desk, setting several teacups beside it.
Just as he finished all of this, a stir suddenly broke out among the portraits.
It was Headmaster Dexter Fortescue, who had abruptly returned to his frame.
"Jon!" Fortescue called loudly. "McGonagall is on her way up to the eighth floor. It looks like she's coming to the Headmaster's Office—you need to be ready!"
"Mc—Professor McGonagall?!" Jon exclaimed, startled.
"Jon, if you're going to keep pretending to be Albus, you should call her 'Minerva,'" Dilys Derwent reminded him kindly.
"Of course… I understand," Jon nodded hurriedly. "Thank you, Headmistress Derwent."
"Just call me Dilys. There's no need for formalities between us anymore."
"Alright… thank you, Dilys."
As he spoke, Jon waved his wand somewhat clumsily. The small teapot on the desk floated into the air, pouring a cup of pale violet liquid into one of the teacups.
He downed the pale violet liquid in a single gulp—
"Headmaster Fortescue… Dexter!" Jon Hart declared solemnly, his face contorting wildly as the potion took effect. "You may let Minerva in now!"
...
Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, entered the Headmaster's Office.
Her expression was noticeably gentler than the stern look she usually wore in front of students.
"Good morning, Albus. By the way, why was the password changed? And why wasn't I informed beforehand?" Professor McGonagall asked curiously. She wore square spectacles, her curled black hair neatly tied into a high bun, and a dark green robe.
"Good morning, Minerva," Albus Dumbledore replied. He had been bent over a stack of documents, only lifting his head after a moment to adjust his half-moon spectacles. "I just changed it today—my apologies. I seem to have forgotten to notify you. The new password is 'Syrup Tart.'"
"Quite in line with your tastes," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "Are you busy?"
"Yes. The matter on the Isle of Man—you know. Amelia and Rufus have been seeking me out these past few days. It's been somewhat troublesome," Dumbledore said gravely. "But what brings you here?"
"It's about the arrangements for the Halloween festivities, as well as the security measures for the occasion," Professor McGonagall explained promptly.
"That's fine—handle those yourself. The same scale as previous years will be sufficient," Dumbledore said casually, lowering his head once more to study the "documents" on his desk.
"Very well, I'll take care of it," Professor McGonagall nodded. "I won't trouble you further over such a small matter, Albus."
"Thank you for your hard work, Minerva," Dumbledore replied distractedly.
Just as Professor McGonagall turned to leave the office—
Dumbledore suddenly looked up from the desk. "Minerva, I almost forgot—there's one more thing I need to ask of you. Please have a student come to my office."
"Mr. Potter?"
Professor McGonagall asked without hesitation.
"Potter… oh, no," Dumbledore hesitated briefly, then shook his head. "Have Granger come instead."
"After lunch—around one o'clock. I'll be waiting here," he added.
"Very well, Albus," Professor McGonagall replied as she left the Headmaster's Office.