As for the "Albus Dumbledore" currently inside the Headmaster's Office, he was completely unaware of the two "incidents" unfolding—one not far away in Gryffindor Tower, the other in distant Scandinavia.
In truth, he was busy with something else—
A sheet of parchment lay spread out before him. Holding a quill, he carefully wrote line after line in neat, orderly script.
"Fawkes, come here," Dumbledore said, setting down the quill and beckoning to the phoenix dozing nearby, her head tucked into her feathers.
The brilliant red bird fluttered over lazily, pressed one talon onto the parchment… then yawned and flew back to resume her rest.
"All done." Albus Dumbledore examined the parchment in his hand with evident satisfaction.
He softly read through its contents—
"Whereas Jon Hart, a fifth-year student of Hufflepuff House at Hogwarts, has withdrawn from school for a period of one year and four months without providing any justification. This behavior constitutes a serious violation of Hogwarts School Rules Forty-Four and Eighty-One, with severe consequences and a profoundly negative impact.
The decision is hereby rendered: expulsion.
This declaration is hereby issued!
Hogwarts Headmaster:
Albus Percival Dumbledore!"
Holding the parchment, Dumbledore rose from his chair and lightly tapped the uppermost portrait on the portrait wall.
"Oliver… Oliver…" he called softly. "There's a new Headmaster's Order."
"Just hand it to me," replied the portrait—a stern-looking middle-aged wizard clad in military attire—as he gave a nod.
Dumbledore passed the parchment forward. The instant it touched the portrait of Headmaster Oliver Cromwell, it vanished into thin air.
Inside the portrait, Oliver now held the parchment in his hand. He glanced down at its contents, and the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
"Should this be made public, Al… Jon?" Oliver Cromwell asked, his expression quickly returning to solemn seriousness.
"No need. Something this trivial is best handled discreetly," declared the current Headmaster of Hogwarts with righteous conviction.
...
Early the next morning, fierce winds howled outside Gryffindor Tower.
Although it was Saturday, Harry Potter woke up early. Lying in bed, he flipped through a copy of Advanced Potion-Making to pass the time.
The book had once belonged to a peculiar individual known as the "Half-Blood Prince," who had filled its pages with countless clever potion-brewing tricks. Thanks to those notes, Harry had earned enthusiastic praise from Professor Horace Slughorn in Potions class. The book also contained a number of intriguing little jinxes.
Sleet and rain lashed mercilessly against the windows. Harry closed the book and climbed out of bed. Neville Longbottom was still snoring loudly. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were busy—one washing up, the other getting dressed—but Ron Weasley was nowhere to be seen.
Harry ran into Hermione in the common room, bundled up from head to toe. After eating breakfast together, the two of them set off for Hogsmeade.
As usual, Filch stood at the oak front doors, checking the names of students approved to visit Hogsmeade Village one by one, while prodding each of them with a long, slender Dark Detector.
Harry briefly considered asking whether Filch had tampered with his Invisibility Cloak. But remembering that Filch was a Squib and unlikely to be capable of such a thing, he let the thought go.
Just like the day before, Hermione seemed distracted the entire time, responding to Harry's attempts at conversation with little more than perfunctory remarks.
With Ron off accompanying Lavender Brown instead, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit lonely.
At the Three Broomsticks, however, they ran into two members of the Order of the Phoenix: Mundungus Fletcher and Nymphadora Tonks. Harry thoroughly disliked Mundungus, but he had always gotten along fairly well with Tonks.
The four of them each ordered a Butterbeer and began chatting amicably.
"Tonks, what have you been busy with lately?" Hermione asked, sipping her Butterbeer.
"Mostly handling security around Hogsmeade," Tonks replied with a smile. "But when special situations come up, we're sent elsewhere too. For example, Kingsley and I went to the Isle of Man a few days ago…"
"The giant-hunting operation on the Isle of Man!" Harry said excitedly. "I read about it in The Daily Prophet. You Aurors were incredible—catching them all while they were asleep…"
"To be honest, it wasn't just us Aurors," Tonks said, shaking her head. "If someone hadn't stepped in to help—"
"Oh? Who was it?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Well, of course it was—"
"Nymphadora!" Mundungus Fletcher cut in sharply. "Didn't Dumbledore tell us not to spread his identity around just yet?"
"Oh… right…" Tonks stuck out her tongue apologetically at Harry. "Sorry, Harry. Some things are still classified."
"It's fine," Harry said, nodding. He was already used to the Order of the Phoenix operating like this.
Hermione, who had remained silent, frowned slightly.
...
Outside the window, the wind and snow grew heavier, the weather steadily worsening.
While Harry went up to the counter at the Three Broomsticks to ask Madam Rosmerta for a refill—
Hermione leaned close to Tonks and whispered, "It was Jon Hart, wasn't it? He's the one who helped you."
Tonks froze instantly. The look of surprise on her face betrayed everything she knew.
"So it really was him…" Hermione drew in a deep breath.
"Hermione, you absolutely can't tell anyone about this," Tonks whispered urgently, trying to undo the damage.
"Of course. I understand."
Just then, Harry returned with the Butterbeer, forcing them to drop the subject.
"Madam Rosmerta seems a bit off today," Harry remarked casually. "She nearly poured mead into my mug instead of Butterbeer."
As soon as Harry finished his drink, Hermione said, "Why don't we call it a day and head back to school?"
Harry agreed, and the other two nodded as well.
There was little enjoyment left in the outing, and the longer they stayed, the worse the weather would become.
Once again, they wrapped their cloaks tightly around themselves, pulled scarves up over their faces, put on gloves, and followed Katie Bell and her friend out of the pub, heading back toward the castle along the main road.