After the dinner ended, students began filing out of the Great Hall, eager to return to their dormitories and unpack for the new term. As Roy stood to leave with Hermione, Daphne, Astoria, Cassandra, Cho, and the others, Dumbledore's calm voice echoed across the room:
"Mr. Valvas, if you would be so kind, do meet me in my office after you return from your dormitory."
The girls turned to Roy immediately.
"Why does the Headmaster want to see you?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
Roy shrugged casually. "No idea. Maybe he wants to ask about the World Cup chaos?"
The girls exchanged looks—clearly unconvinced—but after bidding him goodnight, each headed for their dorms.
The Principal's Office
Roy walked the silent third-floor corridor until he reached the familiar stone gargoyle.
"Evening," Roy greeted it casually.
The gargoyle, used to Roy's visits, jumped aside without needing a password, and the staircase began spiraling upward.
Inside the office, the glow of candle flames illuminated shelves of ancient books and magical instruments. Dumbledore stood behind his desk, and lining the walls were dozens of portraits—the former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts.
"Good evening, Roy," Dumbledore said warmly.
"Good evening, Headmaster. Good evening, all," Roy replied, bowing politely to the portraits.
Many of them had met Roy several times, and several nodded approvingly. Even Phineus Black gave a reluctant nod—likely still embarrassed from the last incident Roy teased him about.
Roy sat, waiting.
The Triwizard Ban
Dumbledore took a measured breath."Roy… I received an unusual request. Both the heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have formally asked that you not be allowed to enter the Triwizard Tournament."
Silence.
Then Roy laughed lightly. "So they're afraid I'll win?"
Dumbledore nodded helplessly. "Terrified, I'm afraid."
Every portrait muttered among themselves. Some even sighed as if the situation was inevitable.
Roy shook his head. "I didn't even have the slightest interest in entering. The tournament is more trouble than it's worth."
A few portraits chuckled.
"But," Roy continued, "since they fear my participation so much… I want to join as a committee member."
Dumbledore rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Interesting. That would technically bypass their concerns, as you're not a champion. I will send your request to the heads of both schools. I expect they will… reluctantly agree."
Roy nodded. "Thank you."
The Question That Changed the Room
Before standing to leave, Roy asked,"Headmaster, how is the progress regarding Voldemort's horcruxes?"
Dumbledore sighed. "I have begun the search. Once I confirm the remaining locations, I will inform you."
Roy accepted this… then leaned slightly forward, his eyes sharp with curiosity.
"Then, Headmaster… I have a question."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
Roy asked slowly:
"Where did Voldemort learn the dark magic and rituals he used?And how did he first approach — and convince — the ancient pure-blood families to join him?"
The room froze.
Dumbledore stared at Roy, surprised.The portraits turned their heads sharply.Phineus Black's monocle nearly fell from his face.
This was not a question ordinary wizards ever asked. It was not something written in books.Not something spoken of publicly.
It was a question that struck at the origin of Voldemort's darkness — something the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry had overlooked for decades.
Dumbledore leaned back slowly, clearly thrown off-guard.
"That…" he admitted, "is a profound question, Roy. One I will need time to think about. There are… gaps in our understanding of Tom's early years. I shall reflect on it."
Roy nodded. "Take your time. I was simply curious."
After bidding the portraits farewell, Roy left the office.
After Roy Left
Silence lingered in Dumbledore's office.
The portraits—every single previous Headmaster and Headmistress—were deep in thought.
Phineus Black muttered,"We spent decades analyzing the boy's actions, but never once asked where he first learned the forbidden arts…"
Another portrait added,"And how he acquired influence with the ancient houses. Such alliances do not form overnight."
Dumbledore himself stood lost in thought.
Roy had asked something that should have been obvious.
Something crucial.
Something dangerous.
And something no one had bothered to investigate properly.
Roy's Night
Meanwhile, Roy walked calmly through the corridors, reached the Slytherin dormitory, changed, and slipped into bed.
He smiled faintly.
Because he knew—
His one question had shaken the foundation of Hogwarts' leadership more than any spell ever could.