The day had started off normal, the crisp autumn air of Hogsmeade carrying nothing gloomier than the scent of burning leaves and the distant aroma of butterscotch and cinnamon from Honeydukes.
Harry's unlucky morning encounter with Cedric and Cho had been just an awkward, fleeting moment in what should have been nothing more than another pleasant Hogsmeade weekend —at least that's what Harry had thought at the time. Yet what happened later that day was completely beyond Harry's understanding.
Hermione had almost been killed.
This brutal reality roared through Harry's consciousness with persistent clarity. If he hadn't fully realized this fact by now, he would have been too stupid.
But the question that constantly circled his mind was simple: 'Why?'
Harry stood still beside Professor McGonagall in the Headmaster's office; his eyes were focused upon Hermione's body on the conjured hospital bed. Her skin tone was alarmingly pale, almost translucent, with an unnatural bluish tinge beneath her eyes.
Looking at the pale, unconscious girl on the hospital bed, Harry felt a deep sense of bewilderment.
'Why would someone want to kill Hermione? Who did it? Was it the person who made Hermione a champion? Was it on Voldemort's orders?'
Harry instinctively thought so, because they had previously discussed that Hermione's unexpected selection as a Triwizard champion couldn't possibly be an isolated incident or a simple coincidence. If someone had gone to such extraordinary lengths to place her name in the goblet, there would definitely be further conspiracies.
As for identifying Voldemort as the culprit behind it all, Harry needed no special reason. In the years since his life into the wizarding world, all the misfortunes they had encountered could be traced back to the most feared dark wizard in recent magical history.
Looking at Harry, who stood beside Minerva with a dazed look in his eyes and expression, Bryan sighed slightly. In his view, this was just a reaction like that of a frightened little boy.
It was true that those sorted into Gryffindor House never lacked courage—even Peter Pettigrew had possessed it once, before fear and self-preservation had corroded his integrity. However, possessing courage didn't mean an absence of fear. Rather, it meant confronting that fear despite its paralyzing effects, especially when faced with circumstances far exceeding the understanding of a fourteen-year-old wizard.
The present situation was clearly a deliberate assassination attempt—a planned attack targeting a specific student with methods both sophisticated and merciless, executed with a precision that eliminated any possibility of accident or coincidence.
This was in complete contrast to the adventures Harry and his friends had experienced in previous years, which, despite their apparent dangers, had always unfolded under the watchful eyes of Hogwarts' protective enchantments and its staff.
In this horrifying incident, the genuine dangerous nature of the Wizarding world had begun to reveal itself to Harry.
"...the sequence of events," Harry muttered softly. His face had turned pale and he noticed that Professor McGonagall had placed her hand and was giving him a concerned look.
That concerned gaze held empathy mingled with genuine worry. Covered in Professor McGonagall's silent support, Harry felt the grip of terror around his heart loosening slightly. Simultaneously, however, a blazing rage began to ignite in the depths of his being, building from ember to inferno with each passing heartbeat, trying to consume every rational thought!
He wanted—no, he craved—to hunt down and destroy the wizard who had harmed Hermione, whoever it might be!
"Harry—" When obvious fury flashed in those brilliant green eyes and an intense murderous intent began to emanate from his body, Dumbledore blinked wearily behind his half-moon spectacles. "Trust me, trust Professor Watson. We will investigate this matter with the thoroughly. We will ensure that the culprit who harmed Hermione receives the punishment they deserve—"
For the first time, Harry found Dumbledore's reasonable sounding words slightly annoying. He wanted more than voiced assurances of justice and ambiguous promises of future punishment. He wanted to personally hunt down and destroy the mastermind behind this attack!
"Mr. Potter?" Just as Harry's mind was filled with endless cruel scenarios of vengeance, his face was becoming pale with rage, Professor Watson suddenly spoke again and Harry instinctively turned to meet those pale purple eyes.
Bryan calmly observed Harry. "I know that you desperately want the perpetrator who harmed Miss Granger to face severe consequences, to pay for what they've done to your friend. Everyone present in this office feels the same anger as you. However, our main objective must be to uncover the complete truth, to determine exactly how this attack was executed—"
There was an undeniable tone in Professor Watson's voice.
So, swallowing his rage and gathering his scattered thoughts, Harry began to speak. He was still rational enough to recognize that he couldn't possibly uncover the truth alone.
And Harry still had some rationality. He didn't tell Professor Watson the real reason they went to the post office. Although he believed that under the current circumstances, Professor Watson would no longer pursue their unauthorized donation to the orphanage.
Instead, he explained that he, Hermione, and Ron had gone to the post office because Hermione had received notification that there were several fan letters and package waiting for her there. After retrieving the package and letters, they had gone to the Three Broomsticks Inn for a drink. It was there that Hermione had opened her mail and the package that was with it.
"Tell me more about that rose—" Bryan said in an expressionless tone. It was apparent at a glance where the problem lay.
"...It was a pink one, yes," Harry continued, his voice growing steadier as he concentrated on recalling precise details. "It definitely seemed to have been enchanted in some way."
His gaze drifted toward the pastry box at the foot of Hermione's bed. "That rose... it was abnormally beautiful. The shimmering glow that emanated from its petals could only have been produced by magical enhancement."
'How dare you touch a magical item of unknown origin without proper precautions?!'
Professor McGonagall's chest suddenly swelled with indignation and disbelief, her nostrils were flaring as her lips compressed into a thin line. With Hermione already lying unconscious before them, she could only glare at Harry in exasperation. She refrained from reprimanding him because she considered how distressed the boy must be right now.
"Please inform Filch immediately, Professor McGonagall—" The moment Harry finished speaking, Bryan immediately looked at Professor McGonagall.
"From now on, all items and letters sent to Hogwarts from outside must be collected by him personally and delivered directly to the Student Safety Office for my thorough inspection before being distributed to the intended recipients.
Items sent to students from the Hogsmeade post office will likewise be uniformly transported back to Hogwarts under his supervision and submitted to me for inspection. This protocol applies equally to faculty members, without exception—"
Professor McGonagall hesitated fleetingly, as she considered the logistical challenges and inevitable complaints such measures would generate. The infringement on privacy would certainly cause dissatisfaction some students and staff, but it was indeed necessary. They had to take responsibility for the safety of the children in this castle.
After speaking, Bryan looked at Dumbledore. "Do you think there are any additional precautions that needs to be added, Headmaster?"
"You've considered it very comprehensively, Bryan. I have nothing to add—" Dumbledore shook his head and then looked at Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, I need you to take Harry to Poppy."
"I'm perfectly fine!" Harry shouted with unexpected ferocity. Facing the gazes of both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson, his pale face contorted. "What I want... what I need is to find whoever did this and make them pay—"
"We've already grasped the basic situation, Harry—" Bryan said calmly. "We will thoroughly investigate this matter. I think the Headmaster is right. What you need most now is proper rest and medical attention."
"Come along, Potter, there's no use arguing—" Professor McGonagall placed her arm firmly around Harry's trembling shoulders, guiding him toward the office door.
"What about Hermione?!" Harry knew he couldn't disobey the orders of Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson. As he was being pulled away by Professor McGonagall, he turned his head and stared at his best friend and shouted loudly, "She needs treatment! She also has to go to the hospital wing!"
"Come along, Potter!" Professor McGonagall's tone became much sterner. "Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson will ensure Miss Granger receives appropriate care. You need to accompany me to the hospital wing for a thorough examination. Mr. Weasley is already there—"
The door closed, and Harry's unwilling gaze disappeared from Dumbledore and Bryan's sight.
Tap, tap, tap—
Dumbledore had just turned his face toward Bryan to share some relevant insight, when the sound of an owl's beak against glass interrupted his thoughts. An owl with the Ministry of Magic emblem on its leg band hovered outside the window as it persistently pecked at the pane attracting their attention.
"It's from Cornelius—" Dumbledore strode across the room to unlatch the window to take the parchment from the owl's leg.
After breaking the official Ministry seal and scanning the contents for several moments, Dumbledore spoke to Bryan without looking up from the letter. "The Ministry has already received intelligence regarding the incident in Hogsmeade. In about twenty minutes, Cornelius, Umbridge, and Amelia will arrive at Hogwarts via the Floo Network—"
With that, Dumbledore approached the extinguished fireplace on one wall of his office. With a wave of his wand, the cold ashes burst into bright green flames, signaling that the castle's fireplaces had been temporarily connected to the Floo Network, bypassing the usual magical restrictions that isolated Hogwarts from unauthorized entry.
"Let them come—" The original sofa that normally was in the Headmaster's office had been transfigured into the hospital bed where Hermione was now lying. Bryan stood beside her and waved his wand, conjuring a new set of sofas out of thin air.
Leaning on the sofa, his back sinking into the soft backrest, Bryan appeared somewhat lazy. However, the anger in his eyebrows and the coldness emanating from his words, made it clear that his heart was not as calm as he appeared.
"If they had chosen not to come on their own, I would have gone to them directly. This matter won't end so easily—"
*******************************
For More Chapters; patreon.com/FicFrenzy