There was no fine food or sweet desserts at the hastily convened evening gathering. Instead, it delivered one piece of grim news after another, making it impossible for anyone to linger. Once Snape announced that the assembly could disperse, almost everyone hurried back to their respective common rooms as fast as they could, unwilling to remain under his gaze for even a second longer. Only a handful of people stayed behind, sitting numbly in their seats, struggling to digest what they had just heard.
Among those who remained deep in thought was Avada. Cedric had patted him on the shoulder earlier, but Avada had merely waved him off, saying he needed a little more time to think.
That Book of Admittance was fake—there was no doubt about it.
What Snape had produced was nothing more than an ordinary parchment-bound book, devoid of any additional magical properties. Even the mottled wear on its surface had been artificially aged. The craftsmanship was simply so refined that no one could spot the flaws…
Yet that did nothing to diminish the tremendous success of the hardline pure-blood faction's scheme. Shifting all responsibility onto the vanished Dumbledore and the vague, intangible "will of the castle," sealing it all with the authority of the Book of Admittance, and even inviting the Minister for Magic to sit in—this perfectly chained combination had stunned the vast majority of students in one blow. It made them believe that the force seeking to expel Muggle-borns was something utterly beyond resistance, giving the conspirators an unimaginably powerful backer.
How on earth had they come up with something this outrageous?
Compared to the original approach—using isolated attacks and rumors of the Chamber of Secrets to scare Muggle-born students into leaving—their current plan was on an entirely different level. Not only had they successfully smeared Dumbledore's reputation, but they could now openly expel all Muggle-borns while simultaneously establishing an absolute, supreme authority to deploy whenever it suited them…
Avada could already picture the next steps in their plan. First, they would stall for five or six years, letting Muggle-borns who could no longer attend school age past graduation, forcing them into magical society without qualifications, relegated to its lowest strata. Then they would finally open that so-called school for Muggle-borns, offering inferior education to newcomers who knew nothing about Hogwarts, while subtly indoctrinating them with pure-blood supremacy…
Gradually, the very mindset of Britain's magical society would be reshaped by this disparity. More and more people would come to genuinely believe that Muggle-born witches and wizards were inherently inferior. Once the timing was ripe, a series of laws restricting the rights of Muggle-borns could be rolled out in succession. In the end, those with no background to begin with would become people born to be beneath others. As for whether they would eventually become slaves—that would depend entirely on the benevolence of the pure-blood "lords"…
However, there was one obstacle in the entire plan that could not be ignored—Albus Dumbledore.
Anyone with half a brain knew that Dumbledore would never allow such a future to come to pass. And he possessed overwhelming personal power, along with countless trump cards hidden away. In other words, just like Voldemort, Dumbledore alone could raise a force out of thin air strong enough to oppose the entirety of Britain's magical society.
"How do they plan to deal with Dumbledore? They can't seriously expect him to be a kindly old man who never crosses a single line, can they?"
"Even Voldemort knelt—what do they have to fight Dumbledore with? Don't tell me they're counting on stealing Voldemort's soul back from Dumbledore's hands??"
"…Uh, maybe it's not impossible. Didn't Grindelwald's Blood Pact get stolen?"
"They do still have that Horcrux diary for resurrection, but based on experience, reviving just a Horcrux fragment drastically reduces combat power. At best it'd be another headmaster-tier fighter—not very useful against Dumbledore…"
And beyond all that, there was something else that puzzled Avada deeply.
The reactions of the other professors.
While Snape had been pulling out one tactic after another to intimidate the students during his speech, the younger or more marginal professors—Astronomy, Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, and the like—had clearly shown shock and unease.
But the most important figures—Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Professor Kettleburn—were different. Though they tried their best to look "grim," "ashen-faced," or "biting their lips" as if furious yet powerless, their mental fluctuations were utterly calm, without the slightest ripple.
Why?
Could it be that everything unfolding right now was still part of Dumbledore's plan?
But even the very foundations were about to be dismantled—what plan could possibly remain?
Even if they knew Snape was on their side, he had already sworn an Unbreakable Vow. Any act of betrayal would cost him his life. Were these old professors truly able to sit there without emotion and watch Snape die?
Yet this very abnormality steadied Avada's heart instead. He trusted that these veteran professors would neither betray Dumbledore nor simply give up and lie flat. Their understanding of Dumbledore's situation surely surpassed his own. If they could remain calm, it meant Dumbledore was likely still hiding some decisive trump card capable of overturning everything in one stroke…
"Rest for a few days, recover my strength, then continue cracking the Chamber of Secrets!"
"As long as I can break open the entrance to the Chamber and let Professor McGonagall and the others go in and kill the Basilisk, all this nonsense about the will of the castle will collapse along with every conspiracy!"
"Even though I still don't know how the person who changed the password and erased Myrtle's memories got their information, as long as I hide within the So Near Yet So Far Charm, nothing in the school can threaten me. Even if Slytherin himself were revived, he couldn't interfere with my work on the Chamber's entrance!"
"And even if it can keep changing the password, once I've preliminarily analyzed the soul and grasped the patterns of the entrance's soul magic, cracking any new password will be effortless. And on top of that, we still have Dumbledore…"
"Victory will be ours."
He thumped his chest hard, stood up, and ignored Snape, the members of the Board of Governors, and Fudge, who were huddled together discussing something. Taking the steps two at a time, he headed back to the Hufflepuff common room. Just as he expected, the entire room was shrouded in an unprecedented, suffocating silence—one that even the warm fireplace could not dispel. Many people stared blankly at various things: the fire, the tables and chairs, the round windows, the greenery on the walls, even the wands in their hands…
They were all Muggle-born students.
They believed they were about to be driven out of the school.
(End of Chapter)