"It's all your fault, Ron! If it weren't for your stupid idea, we wouldn't have ended up collecting Pokémon droppings!"
Covered in stench, Harry glared at Ron resentfully.
"And we each got fifty points deducted," Hermione cried in despair. "That's two hundred points gone in total! Once we get back to the Gryffindor common room, everyone's going to blame us!"
"At least we didn't get expelled," Neville said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"I just care whether we can still get dinner," Ron groaned, rubbing his now completely empty stomach.
"Dinner? I think the house-elves have already gone to bed," Neville said. Just then, the clock struck midnight.
The four trudged dejectedly down the corridor.
"Kill... kill... rip them apart..."
Harry suddenly shouted, startling the other three into leaping back.
"What's wrong with you?"
"That voice!" Harry spun around. "I just heard it again—didn't you hear it?"
But Hermione and the others all shook their heads.
"Harry, can you tell where the voice came from?" Neville asked quickly.
Harry went still, listening intently. The voice was fading but still echoing faintly.
"It passed right by me—and it's heading that way!"
"Quick, after it!" Neville shouted. None of them had time to think what they'd do if they actually caught up with the monster; they just ran.
"This way! Left! It's going upstairs!" Harry said anxiously. He wasn't afraid—he was worried the monster was getting away. If he lost it now, they might never find it again!
They dashed up the stairs. Neville stepped on a trick stair and nearly fell, but Ron caught him just in time.
By then, the creature had already fled far ahead.
When they finally reached the entrance of the second-floor girls' bathroom, they saw two stiff bodies lying motionless in the puddled floor water.
"Percy?" Ron's face went white as he let out a piercing scream.
"The other one's the Ravenclaw prefect... what are they doing here?" Hermione said in disbelief. But there was no time to wonder. Another attack—one of the victims was Ron's brother, Percy.
—A pure-blood!
"Has that so-called heir gone mad?" Neville muttered, horrified.
"Harry, what about the voice?!" Ron grabbed Harry's shoulders, his face twisting in panic and anger.
"It's gone…" Harry said guiltily. He felt responsible—if he'd run faster, maybe he could've saved Percy and the other student.
But it was too late now.
"What's going on here?"
A dark figure hurried toward them—it was Lockhart.
Seeing him, the group felt as if salvation had arrived. "Professor! Someone's been attacked—Percy and—" Harry faltered, realizing he didn't even know Penelope's name.
Lockhart pushed him aside and crouched next to the bodies, inspecting them closely.
"They're fine—just petrified. We'd better take them to the hospital wing and notify the Headmaster. The attacker's getting bolder." He straightened, frowning. "Wasn't he a Weasley? That means the culprit isn't even sparing pure-bloods... or was this a mistake?"
"I doubt it was," Ron said grimly, his tone calm but his eyes filled with worry. "Slytherins always call us blood traitors. I'd say he marked us for elimination from the start."
"Utter nonsense! No one in this school deserves to be 'cleansed'!" Lockhart snapped. "Every student here is chosen by both the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance. It's not up to that madman to decide who belongs!"
Harry thought Lockhart made perfect sense—and anger flared inside him toward the unseen attacker.
"Well said, Gilderoy."
Dumbledore had arrived. Lockhart's eyes flickered, and he immediately stepped aside to make room.
"Headmaster, I think we must find the culprit at once—no more delays!"
"You're right, Gilderoy. And if you're willing to assist, even better. As for you four—return to your dormitories. It's not safe to wander around these days." Dumbledore cast a Levitation Charm, floating Percy and Penelope away.
Harry and the others were dismissed.
From a shadowed corner, young Barty watched Dumbledore leave, his mind racing.Had Dumbledore realized he was the attacker?
If not, then Dumbledore's arrival was far too coincidental. But if he had noticed, why would he let Barty help hunt himself?
"Forget it," Barty muttered. "Better to get rid of Dumbledore altogether."
The next day, news of the new victims spread quickly throughout the school.
Cornelius Fudge arrived looking pale and sweaty, rushing straight to Charles Gold's office instead of Dumbledore's.
"I'm under enormous pressure!" Fudge puffed, removing his hat and wiping his forehead. He looked even rounder than before—almost rivaling Harry's uncle Vernon Dursley. Clearly, he'd been living well off his position.
"Bartemius Crouch keeps insisting I find the culprit fast—or he'll have Hogwarts shut down!"
"Crouch? I thought he'd been on sick leave for ages," Charles asked.
"You've heard about that?" Fudge said, surprised, then continued. "He still drops by sometimes. I think he's plotting a comeback. You know how he is—after what happened ten years ago, he's desperate to restore his reputation. If there's a chance for glory, he won't pass it up!"Scrimgeour also wants to station guards at Hogwarts, but I figured you wouldn't like that idea, so I stalled him."
Charles nodded silently.
He actually didn't mind Aurors patrolling the school—but he didn't want the Ministry meddling too deeply in Hogwarts affairs.
"If we don't catch the culprit soon, my approval ratings will drop," Fudge fretted. "I say we send that fellow—Hagrid—to Azkaban for a while, just to calm everyone down. Don't worry; there are no Dementors now. He won't suffer."
"Fudge," Charles said firmly, "I understand your position, but imprisoning an innocent man is unjust." Then his tone softened. "Here's what you can do—go back and announce that you've already coordinated with me and Dumbledore, and that we're close to catching the real culprit. I'll allow you to assign someone here—send Tonks. When we do catch them, you'll get some credit too."
"Alright…" Fudge sighed, realizing he couldn't throw his weight around with Charles. Still, he wasn't unhappy.
Charles wasn't like Dumbledore—he tolerated Fudge's gray areas. Fudge was a true Slytherin type, much like Slughorn but far more timid.For him, nothing mattered more than fame and benefit. He wanted to be corrupt and adored.
Charles didn't mind the corruption as long as it wasn't excessive and the Ministry actually prospered under Fudge's leadership.
"Oh, and about Dumbledore—" Fudge paused. "Lucius told me some people want him removed as Headmaster."
"Oh?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "Malfoy never mentioned that to me."
"It's recent news. He probably thought it wasn't worth bothering you with. But it's good news! If Dumbledore's gone, you would be the perfect replacement." Fudge chuckled, tipping his hat before leaving.
Charles pursed his lips.Him, Headmaster?That sounded exhausting…Then again—Headmasters didn't have to teach, did they?Suddenly, it didn't sound so bad.
"Bartemius Crouch, huh? So that's which Death Eater slipped through the cracks," Charles mused. "But driving out only Dumbledore? That's underestimating me."
Lucius Malfoy arrived not long after Fudge, trembling slightly.
"Mr. Gold, I need to know—why has the Chamber of Secrets been opened again?" Lucius asked anxiously.
When Voldemort had entrusted him with the diary years ago, he'd been told it could reopen the Chamber. Now that it had happened, he feared the Dark Lord's return.
Which, in truth, wasn't far from reality.
"Don't worry, Lucius. Dumbledore allowed Voldemort to act—it's a test for the young wizards. Haven't you noticed? Not one student has died." Charles' voice was calm.
Lucius exhaled, though his face was still pale.
"The diary was given to me for safekeeping. If something's gone wrong, he'll never forgive me. And besides—"
"No need to worry," Charles said gently. "If anything happens, I'll be your Secret-Keeper. And as for Draco—he's my student. Voldemort would need my permission before he even thinks about harming him."
He knew that mere words couldn't erase Lucius's fear—the man's terror of Voldemort was bone-deep—but the promise eased him all the same.
"Thank you—thank you so much!" Lucius nearly wept.
"And about the Board of Governors meeting—"
"Fudge mentioned it," Charles said. "They plan to expel Dumbledore and then target me next. But they've misjudged. Just follow their plan—by the time they act, the students themselves will crush their little conspiracy."
By afternoon, Charles had already moved into the Headmaster's office.
"At last, I can rest," said Dumbledore cheerfully, not sad in the least—if anything, relieved.
"You know, I've wanted to travel for the last century," he sighed. "But I've been stuck here all this time. When I was young, I promised several people we'd journey to broaden our horizons—but we never did. Grindelwald was only one of them.
"Of course, that doesn't mean I dislike Hogwarts. I love it dearly. And Aberforth—well, he resents me a bit, but that's my own fault. This school feels more like home than my house ever did."
Charles nodded in agreement.
"Since you're in such good spirits, perhaps you wouldn't mind having a companion for your journey?" Charles produced an envelope sealed with a large, floating red 'R.'
"Grindelwald's been seeking Legendary Pokémon and could use someone to keep an eye on him," Charles said lightly, offering him a graceful excuse. But Dumbledore accepted it with serenity.
He took the envelope, eyes filled with memory and sorrow.
"I've waited for this chance far too long," he said softly. "To search for Legendary Pokémon—it's like our old quest for the Deathly Hallows." He smiled, though pain shimmered beneath it.
He accepted the letter and set down the Elder Wand.
"I suppose I'll need a new wand, then."
"I have plenty," Charles said. He'd experimented with nearly every kind of Pokémon material. Some—like Slowpoke's—made wands sluggish, while others were far too sensitive.
"Take this one—made from the molted feather of Roaring Moon."
Dumbledore took it gladly, cheerfully bade farewell to the other professors, and departed.Professor McGonagall, his longtime confidant, knew even his most private regrets and was deeply moved by his leaving—but with Charles around, she wasn't worried about the school's safety.
"Now," Charles said with a grin, "I'm the Headmaster!"
His office had merely changed location, but the Reserve remained where it was—now serving as a weekly gathering spot for student trainers.
As for the Breeding House and laboratory, Charles planned to relocate them to Alola later, leaving only a trade machine behind here.
"This is definitely a conspiracy!" Hermione declared, eyes blazing. "They forced Dumbledore out! He thinks no one can stop him now!"
"But we still have Professor Gold," Ron protested, confused. Charles Gold was the one who had driven Voldemort out of Britain.
"Maybe he believes that now he's got a monster of his own, he doesn't have to fear the Professor's Pokémon," Neville guessed.
"Whatever the case," Hermione said gravely, "with Dumbledore gone, there's one less obstacle. I'm sure he'll strike again soon—we have to stay alert and stop him this time!"
And indeed—she wasn't wrong. Barty was already preparing to act again.
(End of Chapter)