Chapter 327: Chapter 327
Eighth Floor, Headmaster’s Office
Dumbledore had finally ended his vacation of more than two months and returned once again to his faithful Hogwarts.
He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the armrest while the other held a cup of "hot tea."
The tea had already gone cold, but he didn’t drink it.
His gaze fell upon the copy of The Daily Prophet spread out before him.
His expression was filled with mixed emotions.
Although he had been on vacation during this time, he hadn’t missed a single newspaper he ought to have read.
He could almost recite the contents of the past few days’ newspapers from memory.
The front page always contained the same things.
A certain high-ranking Ministry of Magic official who wished to remain anonymous stated that Dumbledore’s claims about You-Know-Who’s resurrection were "seriously irresponsible."
A certain authoritative figure pointed out that Dumbledore’s recent behavior was "worrisome" and suggested that the Ministry of Magic intervene and investigate.
A certain "well-informed source" revealed that the reason Dumbledore was spreading rumors was to divert public attention away from his "poor management of Hogwarts."
The end of every article was also largely the same.
Each one firmly insisted that it was impossible for You-Know-Who to have returned, that Dumbledore’s words were complete lies, and that the public should not be easily deceived.
Over and over again, the same arguments were repeated in circles.
Dumbledore could almost recite them all.
But today’s paper was different.
"Regarding the question of whether You-Know-Who has returned, the Ministry of Magic is currently still investigating. Relevant sources state that the existing evidence is not yet sufficient to reach a clear conclusion and awaits further verification."
From "absolutely impossible" to "awaiting further verification."
This change was too significant.
Far too significant to be a coincidence.
That part made Dumbledore quite satisfied.
However, the following piece of news left him rather distressed.
The Truth Behind Dumbledore’s Vacation—He Intends to Run for Minister for Magic
The article wasn’t very long, and the author’s byline was a name he had never heard before.
The famous Albus Dumbledore has been in frequent contact with high-level Ministry of Magic staff in recent days. Sources say he seems dissatisfied with current Minister Cornelius Fudge’s slander against him and intends to run for Minister in order to restore his reputation...
According to well-informed sources, Dumbledore has already held private meetings with several members of the Wizengamot to discuss the possibility of his candidacy.
A high-ranking Ministry of Magic official who wished to remain anonymous stated that if Dumbledore truly runs, he will "undoubtedly become the strongest contender"...
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
When he opened them again, his gaze fell upon a certain corner of the office.
There, Lynn was crouching beside Fawkes’s perch, reaching out and stroking Fawkes all over.
Or rather, plucking feathers.
"Mr. Lynn."
Lynn’s hand paused for a moment, but he quickly resumed his movements.
"Hmm?"
Dumbledore pinched the newspaper between his fingers and waved it in the air.
"Can you explain what’s going on here?"
Lynn slowly turned his head, glanced at Dumbledore, then at the newspaper, and finally back at Dumbledore.
"Headmaster, why don’t I understand what you’re talking about?"
"Isn’t this your doing?" Dumbledore asked.
"Of course not," Lynn blurted out without the slightest hesitation.
Dumbledore’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
"But I haven’t said what it is yet."
The air in the office fell silent for a moment.
Dumbledore watched as Lynn’s face turned red at a visible speed.
"No matter what it is," Lynn said, his tone righteous and confident, "it wasn’t me."
Dumbledore stared at him for another two seconds.
Then he bent down and pulled open the drawer beneath his desk.
There was a dull thud.
A large stack of envelopes, a full foot high, was placed on the desk.
"You probably don’t know," Dumbledore said leisurely, "but in just these few short hours, I’ve received this many letters."
He tapped the stack of envelopes with one finger.
"From this morning until now. Less than half a day."
Lynn looked at the pile of envelopes and said nothing.
Dumbledore casually picked up the topmost envelope, tore it open, and pulled out the letter inside.
He scanned it briefly, then read it aloud.
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,
I was once your student during your years teaching at Hogwarts.
Although you may not remember me, I have always admired you greatly.
I was very excited to see in the newspaper that you intend to run for Minister for Magic. If you need any help, please contact me at any time.
I am willing to do anything for you, including but not limited to assisting with campaign publicity, contacting other alumni, and providing financial support...
He stopped there and glanced at the signature on the letter.
"Yours faithfully, so-and-so."
He placed the letter back on the table and picked up a second one.
Albus, I am your former classmate. I’m not surprised at all to see the news that you’re running for Minister.
You should have done this a long time ago. That fellow Fudge doesn’t deserve to sit in that position at all. If you need me to help you gather votes, just ask.
Your old friend, so-and-so.
Then the third.
Headmaster Dumbledore, I am a reporter for The Daily Prophet. May I ask whether you truly intend to run for Minister for Magic? If so, would it be convenient for you to accept an exclusive interview? I hope to write a special report on you. Looking forward to your reply.
The fourth.
The fifth.
The sixth.
Dumbledore continued reading them one by one, and the contents of each letter were much the same.
Some offered support.
Some asked for confirmation.
Some volunteered to help.
"This is only a portion of them."
No sooner had Dumbledore finished speaking than—
Flap, flap.
The sound of beating wings came from outside the window.
An owl flew in through the open window with a white envelope clutched in its talons.
It circled the office once, then accurately dropped the letter onto the desk.
It landed right on top of the stack of envelopes.
"You see," Dumbledore said, his voice carrying a hint of helplessness, "everyone seems to have taken this article as the truth."
"They think I truly intend to become Minister for Magic..."
He paused and tapped the stack of letters with his finger.
"They’re even actively giving me advice and helping me make plans, even though I’ve never met most of the people sending these letters."
"Honestly, I’m starting to become a little afraid of owls."
Lynn almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud.
He held it in.
"This might not necessarily be a bad thing," Lynn muttered under his breath.
Dumbledore’s hearing was better than most people’s.
He heard it.
His eyes widened.
"You must come up with a solution, or else don’t even think about fishing at Hogwarts ever again!"
Lynn’s expression froze.
This is too much!
"I don’t have one!"
Lynn’s voice suddenly rose.
"Either change the Minister, or have Fudge go head-to-head with Lord Voldemort!"
He paused.
"Pick one!"
Dumbledore looked at him.
Lynn looked back at Dumbledore.
The two simply stared at each other.
"Changing the Minister is impossible," Dumbledore said calmly. "As for having Fudge face Lord Voldemort..."
He paused, probably imagining that scene in his mind.
The image of Fudge, belly protruding, standing before Lord Voldemort, raising his wand and shouting, "Avada—"
"That won’t work either."
Lynn shrugged with an expression that clearly said, Then there’s nothing I can do.
"Then there’s nothing to talk about."
The office fell silent.
Just as the atmosphere between the two of them entered a strange deadlock—
Knock. Knock knock.
Someone knocked on the office door.
Dumbledore withdrew his gaze.
"Come in."
With a click, the door was pushed open.
Sirius walked in with a swagger.
"Good morning, Dumbledore," he said, his voice carrying a hint of a smile.
Then he turned his head and looked at Lynn, who was still standing beside the perch.
"And Lynn."
"Good morning, Sirius," Dumbledore said.
"Welcome back, Professor Black," Lynn said.
Sirius smiled and waved a hand.
"No, no, no."
He shook his head.
"Just call me Sirius. That title, Professor, makes me feel uncomfortable all over."
He walked to the desk, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
His movements were so natural that it was as if he were in his own home.
Dumbledore watched him, waiting for him to speak.
Sirius didn’t beat around the bush either.
"Dumbledore," he said, his voice slightly more serious than before, "I’m here to submit my resignation."
The office went quiet again for a moment.
Dumbledore’s brow furrowed slightly.
"Sirius, weren’t you doing well as a teaching assistant? Why resign?"
Sirius leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.
"Oh, come off it," he said. "I know my own level in Transfiguration. If I keep teaching, I’ll only lead the students astray."
Lynn stood to the side, and upon hearing this, he thought:
What a pity Fudge doesn’t have this level of self-awareness.
Sirius continued, "Besides, compared to teaching, I’d much rather go deal with those Death Eaters. I heard from Professor McGonagall on my way here that their activities have been growing increasingly frequent."
Dumbledore sighed.
"Yes."
The Death Eaters’ activities had indeed become more frequent.
The Ministry of Magic had already discovered the Dark Mark in several places.
Although Fudge insisted they were merely "pranks by a few extremists," Dumbledore knew the truth.
Lord Voldemort was already moving.
He was preparing for something far larger.
"Are you sure you won’t reconsider?" Dumbledore asked. "Professor McGonagall will likely be very reluctant to lose such a capable assistant."
"I’ve already made up my mind," Sirius said.
Then he paused and added in a half-joking tone, "Besides, if I stay any longer, it’s not like I’m getting paid."
Lynn couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
Seeing Sirius’s firm attitude, Dumbledore no longer tried to persuade him.
He took a piece of parchment from a drawer, spread it out on the desk, picked up a quill, and began writing.
"Today is Sunday," he said as he wrote. "Spend some more time with Harry before you go."
Sirius nodded.
"I will."
Dumbledore finished writing the final word and handed the parchment to Sirius.
Sirius took it, folded it without even looking, and stuffed it into his pocket.
"Thanks, Dumbledore."
He stood.
"I’ll be going now, then."
"All right."
Sirius turned and waved at Lynn.
"I’m off, Lynn."
Lynn waved back.
"Take care on the road."
The office fell silent once again.
"We were just—"
Dumbledore had only just begun speaking when—
Bang!
Lynn’s hand slammed onto the desk.
The sound exploded through the quiet office.
The portraits on the walls were all startled awake.
Someone shouted, "What’s happened? What’s happened?"
Someone else cursed, "No manners!"
Others rubbed their eyes, looking around in confusion.
Even Dumbledore was startled.
"Either change the Minister, or let Fudge fight Lord Voldemort!"
After saying that, Lynn didn’t wait for Dumbledore to react.
He dashed out of the Headmaster’s Office in a flash.
Dumbledore was left alone in the office, completely bewildered.
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