Chapter Sixty-One: The Argument

“The culprit behind the destruction of the magical nodes is Professor Lore,” Siwen declared.

His words echoed through the corridor on the first basement level, leaving the assembled professors stunned and speechless.

“Siwen, that's not something you should say lightly,” Professor Kettleburn, leaning on his cane, quickly shot Siwen a look, signaling for him to apologize to the headmaster. “Headmaster, young Siwen must be thinking of the school’s best interests, and is merely offering his own hypothesis. He would never slander a professor without reason.”

“Professor, I am certain that Professor Lore is the one who destroyed the magical nodes,” Siwen replied, paying no heed to Headmaster Dippet’s darkening expression, but turning to Professor Kettleburn and shaking his head. “Do you remember the two dark wizards we encountered in the Forbidden Forest that day?”

“I do remember. Why?” Professor Kettleburn nodded in confusion.

“The person wrapped head to toe in bandages—his eyes were exactly the same as Professor Lore’s,” Siwen said. “And though he disguised his voice, if you listen closely, there’s a resemblance to his normal manner of speaking in class.”

Professor Kettleburn grew serious, his expression grave. “That’s odd, but now that you mention it, it does seem that way!”

At that moment, Headmaster Dippet interjected, “But these are only your suspicions. Without any evidence, we cannot simply accuse a member of the faculty out of thin air!”

“So it’s permissible to detain a ghost without evidence?” a sudden voice called out, as the ghostly Siwen and Helena floated in hand in hand.

“Mr. Strange, I don’t recall you having permission to leave the Hall of Ghosts,” Headmaster Dippet said darkly. “By openly defying our arrangement, you risk provoking unnecessary suspicion.”

“So you admit it’s merely suspicion?” the ghostly Siwen shot back, his gaze sharp as he fixed the headmaster with an icy stare. “Is it only under special circumstances that a ghost can be imprisoned on suspicion alone, but in a more urgent situation, a professor cannot even be questioned?”

“Mr. Strange, these are not the same,” Headmaster Dippet insisted. “Professor Lore has worked at Hogwarts for many years, and we have every reason to trust him. You, on the other hand, arrived at Hogwarts at this very peculiar time, giving us reason to be cautious.”

“What’s more, the moment you left the dungeon, this incident occurred. I cannot help but suspect that the destruction of the second magical node may be related to you.”

Siwen let out a snort of laughter, about to argue further, when Helena cut in coldly.

“I spent the entirety of tonight’s ghostly banquet with Stephen—I can vouch that he did nothing to endanger the castle,” she said, locking eyes with Headmaster Dippet. “Or do you suspect that we are both accomplices in the sabotage?”

“Lady Grey, I don’t mean that,” Headmaster Dippet replied at once. Knowing Helena was Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter, he would not risk offending her; he offered a slight bow in apology.

Helena shook her head in disappointment. “If the next magical node is destroyed, the castle’s magical system will collapse. I’ve said what I must; the rest is up to you.”

Her words sent a chill through everyone present. If the true saboteur was not found, the entire functioning of the castle would be in jeopardy.

Young wizard Siwen spoke up, his tone sharp. “Headmaster, in such an urgent situation, you still refuse to believe me?”

Headmaster Dippet bit his lip, then shook his head with difficulty. “I’m sorry, Rozier. While we cannot risk the collapse of the castle’s magical system, we also cannot risk a crisis of confidence among the faculty.”

“If we question Professor Lore as you suggest, and it turns out he is guilty, all is well. But if he is innocent, nearly a millennium of Hogwarts’ hard-earned reputation would suffer a grievous blow. The outside world would see Hogwarts as a place that mistrusts its own, and we might never attract new professors again.”

The headmaster’s expression was earnest, and the other professors appeared convinced as well. If they truly interrogated Professor Lore now, it could provoke outrage among the staff.

Siwen stared into the headmaster’s eyes for a long while, then suddenly let out a derisive laugh.

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” he said with a crooked smile, then turned and walked away without looking back.

Watching Siwen leave, the old headmaster let out a sigh of relief and began assigning tasks to the professors. He instructed them that the true culprit lurking in the castle must be caught before another node was destroyed.

At the same time, Professor Lore was not entirely above suspicion; he was now under strict surveillance by two house-elves.

Before Headmaster Dippet could announce arrangements for him, the ghostly Siwen called out to Dumbledore. “Professor Dumbledore, would you kindly escort me back to the dungeon?”

Dumbledore walked over, looking at him in surprise. “I thought Mr. Strange would refuse to return to the dungeon.”

Siwen chuckled. “This may be my last night in that dungeon—I’d best savor it!”

Dumbledore blinked in surprise. “What do you mean by that?”

Siwen only smiled in reply.

...

In the entrance courtyard, a new moon hung in the night sky, its cool light casting shadows on the ground.

Siwen stood alone at the center of the courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, awaiting someone’s arrival.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the direction of the Great Hall, and a portly figure emerged in the torchlight.

“I appreciate you coming, Professor Slughorn,” Siwen greeted him with a smile.

“Siwen, you asked me to meet you here for something?” Professor Slughorn wore a puzzled expression, suspecting Siwen had not abandoned his plans concerning Professor Lore.

“Professor, I need a bottle of Veritaserum,” Siwen said calmly.

“What?” Professor Slughorn exclaimed, immediately refusing. “That’s out of the question. Veritaserum is strictly regulated by the Ministry and extremely dangerous!”

Siwen had anticipated the refusal and presented his prepared argument. “Professor, from now on, the Rozier family’s various businesses will offer you a fifty percent discount. I’ll also be inheriting the French branch in the future, and you’ll enjoy the same privileges there.”

Professor Slughorn swallowed hard, offering an awkward smile. “That’s far too generous…”

Though he protested, his actions were brisk. He produced a box—enchanted, evidently, with an Undetectable Extension Charm—and from it withdrew a vial of potion, placing it on the ground.

“Oh dear, it seems I can’t find one of my potions. I’ll have to go look for it,” he said with feigned confusion, turning toward the stairs.

Siwen gave a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, Professor. I just happened to find this Veritaserum lying around.”

Professor Slughorn nodded in amusement, then added gravely, “Remember, three drops are enough. Any more could be fatal.”

...

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