Chapter 132: Detective Game
After listening to a series of conversations, the three quickly saw the scene picture displayed in the Projection Mirror.
A group of professors sat around in an environment very similar to the Great Hall Antechamber, but the placement of objects was slightly different. Candlelight flickered on the sparkling crystal chandelier, various gold and silver materials and bronze items gleamed with metallic luster, and a round table was placed in the center of the room, surrounded by adult wizards dressed as professors.
Harry looked at the wizard at the head seat. Sitting there was not the silver-haired and bearded Dumbledore, but a skinny, withered old wizard with only a few strands of white hair on his bald head, wearing an old-fashioned black wizard robe, speaking without much strength, frail and weak.
Having visited the Headmaster’s Office several times before, the walls there were hung with portraits of past headmasters. The moving pictures were somewhat blurrier than real images and had been appropriately beautified, but the characteristic features were very prominent, allowing Harry to recognize him at a glance.
“It’s Headmaster Armando Dippet!” he exclaimed in surprise.
“Former Headmaster of Hogwarts, who had a very good reputation during his tenure and died in 1971 from a severe case of dragon pox at the age of 334.” Hermione quickly recalled the record from school history, her gaze shifting to the side, somewhat incredulous. “And next to him is… Dumbledore in his youth!”
Harry and Ron’s gazes followed to the wizard beside the head seat. He had a tall and slender figure, his auburn beard and hair not yet entirely white, a hooked nose with half-moon glasses perched on it, and behind the lenses were those signature blue eyes, bright and gentle.
The meeting scene in the Projection Mirror continued, now allowing them to match the voices of the conversation to the specific people.
“Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Kettleburn in their youth… They’re discussing some dangerous magical creature. What does this have to do with Hagrid?”
The three, harboring similar doubts, huddled in front of the Projection Mirror, unwilling to miss any useful information.
“Headmaster Dippet, the truth of the matter is not as simple as we thought. Tom Riddle, he…” Young Dumbledore paused, his deep blue eyes revealing a complex and inscrutable expression. “We all know clearly that the girl did not die from an Acromantula poisoned fang.”
“I’ve already said it.”
The aged Armando Dippet sighed, speaking weakly and feebly: “We believe that child Rubus is not the culprit, but Tom witnessed him feeding the Acromantula on site, and that is an undeniable fact.
“We cannot prove that the Acromantula was the killer, nor can we prove that the Acromantula had nothing to do with Moaning Myrtle’s death. The girl’s parents are coming to the school tomorrow, and Aurors will be coming too. We must give them an explanation.”
Dumbledore frowned slightly, about to say more, but Headmaster Dippet waved his hand to interrupt: “He’s still a child and won’t be treated as a criminal and sent to Azkaban. For breaking school rules, the school’s punishment is expulsion. For illegally keeping a dangerous creature, the Ministry of Magic’s punishment is breaking his wand.”
Dumbledore looked at the old headmaster’s frail and weak appearance, his eyes somber.
Silver mist surged in the Projection Mirror, the picture swallowed by a vortex of mist, and when it reformed, it turned into a blurry teaching video again.
Hermione glanced at the two boys who were dazed, stepped forward to fiddle with the Projection Mirror, shaking and tapping it, trying several times, finding that no matter how she stirred it, only the teaching video appeared, and finally could only shake her head:
“Can’t get it back. Can’t find that memory in the Projection Mirror anymore.”
The three exchanged a few glances and sat down to sort through the information they had just obtained.
“From the conversation just now, it seems an accident happened while Hagrid was a student at school. Moaning Myrtle died without any wounds on her body. During the Ministry of Magic and school’s investigation, a student named Tom Riddle discovered Hagrid keeping an Acromantula.” Hermione frowned and said softly, “So Hagrid was expelled and his wand was broken.”
“No wonder Hagrid always hides his wand in that pink umbrella…” Ron muttered. This was a secret they had known for a long time.
They just hadn’t figured out why. Those in the know were deeply taboo about it. Every time it was mentioned, Hagrid would cough loudly to clear his throat, clumsily pretending to be deaf and playing dumb, acting shameless until the topic changed.
“It was Dumbledore!” Harry added. “Dumbledore knew Hagrid was innocent, so he helped him avoid the punishment, fixed his wand, and hired him as the school’s gamekeeper.”
“I think I remember…” Hermione muttered to herself, “Last year when we sent Norbert away, Professor Levent vaguely mentioned this.”
Harry and Ron showed thoughtful expressions. The corner by the Black Lake shore quieted down, with only the sound of wind blowing over the lake surface audible for a moment.
The development of events wasn’t complicated. The Projection Mirror had revealed enough information, and piecing it together made many past words and actions of the professors and Hagrid match up.
“Hagrid is definitely innocent!” Harry’s expression was firm as he said loudly, “We need to help Hagrid uncover the truth and restore his reputation!”
Hermione gave him a light glance and had no objection to his overambitious decision. She wanted to try too.
“Maybe not…”
Ron raised his hand in objection, lacking confidence, and could only mutter softly: “Didn’t Headmaster Dippet say it? Hagrid isn’t the killer, but the Acromantula might be. Maybe the Acromantula did it behind Hagrid’s back?”
Seeing his two partners lost in thought, he continued: “And aren’t you curious about the Projection Mirror’s anomaly? Why did a normal teaching video suddenly turn into a professors’ conversation from decades ago? Was it an accident or arranged by the professor?”
Harry hesitated upon hearing this. He wasn’t sure either.
Finally, Hermione made the decision: “We can put that question aside for now. Later, back at the castle, we’ll ask Professor Levent. Now we need to go find Hagrid and ask if it was really the Acromantula that killed Moaning Myrtle back then.”
The three quickly got up, stuffed the Projection Mirror into their backpacks, dusted off their bottoms, and ran briskly toward the Forbidden Forest Hut.
……
Dinner time, Great Hall, high table.
Most professors attended dinner. Headmaster Dumbledore sat at the head seat, hands holding knives and forks, slowly cutting a piece of fried pork chop. The other professors spoke in cheerful tones, discussing recent interesting anecdotes.
“I heard you’re preparing the Drama Club, Melvin. That’s great!”
Professor Kettleburn’s rough, cheerful laughter could be heard throughout half the Great Hall: “Because of one accident, many teachers and students have prejudice against me. They always think I burned down the Drama Club in one fire, and I’ve been wronged for decades. I never thought I’d see the Drama Club reformed before my retirement. This is so delightful!”
“Prejudice?” Snape said coolly. “Isn’t that the truth?”
Professor Kettleburn took a sip of whiskey and shook his head as he retorted: “I must clarify that during the pantomime performance of Good Luck Fountain, I did use a fire ash snake as a prop, but the real cause of the big fire was that the fire ash snake happened to be in its egg-laying period. The two lead actresses were fighting each other, Professor Bilius got caught in the fray, startling the prop, and its eggs ignited the floor.”
“Ignited half the Great Hall.” Professor McGonagall corrected.
“Alright, alright, half the Great Hall!” Professor Kettleburn muttered. “Anyway, it was an accident caused by many coincidences. I was just one link. The Drama Club’s closure can’t be blamed on me.”
Next came feeble excuses, like using the fire ash snake as a prop was well-intentioned, and it wouldn’t have been startled if not for the leads, etc. The atmosphere at the dining table was exceptionally cheerful.
Dumbledore glanced at the Gryffindor long table and saw the trio who had been staring at the high table since dinner began. He found it somewhat amusing.
He turned to the young professor who was eating and asked curiously: “Melvin, I’m a bit curious. Why did you entrust the rehearsal of the play to two… children not particularly skilled at this sort of thing?”
“Only a few people are born skilled at something, and what I need isn’t the result, but the process. The gains during their efforts toward a goal are often more substantial.”
Melvin swallowed a sausage. “Marietta and Neville are both quite repressed. It’s the heavy expectations from their parents causing long-term pressure. Pressure without proper guidance will erode the outstanding parts of their personalities. I’m trying to guide that pressure.”
“Storms make flowers grow more than clear weather.”
Dumbledore said meaningfully, then suddenly changed the subject to another matter: “Melvin, I heard you asked Filius and the others for memories of Hagrid’s case. My brain isn’t fully clogged with honey yet. I have some useful things too…”
Melvin looked at him suspiciously, wondering if the headmaster had gotten some information from the Diadem, but the old headmaster smiled kindly, showing no abnormality.
He pondered briefly and nodded: “I’ll make good use of these memories.”
……
At the Gryffindor long table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione ate slowly while discussing the intelligence they had just extracted at the Forbidden Forest Hut.
“Hagrid said his Aragog is a good child. Is that credible?” Ron asked with a frown, clearly doubtful.
Harry thought for a moment and nodded slowly: “It should be credible. We poured all the whiskey in Hagrid’s house into him. He was so drunk his eyes could barely stay open. He couldn’t lie even if he wanted to.”
That afternoon, when they went to the Forbidden Forest Hut to ask about the events back then, Hagrid avoided talking about it as usual, changing the subject to muddle through. Fortunately, Hermione was clever and secretly poured whiskey into his soup while he wasn’t looking, getting him thoroughly drunk.
The three also got the answers they wanted.
“What if the Acromantula killed her behind Hagrid’s back?”
“…”
These two were still obsessing, but the professors at the high table had almost finished eating and were leaving one after another.
Hermione quickly stood up and pulled the two along: “We’ll talk about this later. First, let’s go ask Professor Levent about the Projection Mirror.”
The three passed through the aisles between the long tables, ran out of the Great Hall, and caught him at the staircase entrance.
“Professor Levent! Professor!”
Melvin stopped in place, waiting for the three to trot up: “I remember tutoring is on weekends. Can’t wait until then?”
“It’s not about tutoring.” Hermione was breathing a bit rapidly. “Professor, this afternoon we saw strange pictures in the Projection Mirror, completely different from the teaching video, but later we couldn’t find them no matter what. Is this a hidden Easter egg?”
It was a clue for the detective game, the opening act for the Drama Club.
Melvin answered silently in his mind but said: “Strange pictures? What exactly?”
Hermione began recalling the details of the scene, with Harry and Ron supplementing from the side, almost recounting all the dialogue: “It was a conversation meeting with Dumbledore in his youth. It should be shortly after Moaning Myrtle was attacked. Hagrid was discovered by a student keeping an Acromantula… The final punishment was breaking the wand and expulsion.”
Melvin made a thoughtful expression, pondered for a moment, and said solemnly with deception: “Hogwarts Castle has many magical things, but this anomaly might be explained by Muggle science principles.”
The three blinked their eyes.
“The Projection Mirror’s anomaly might be related to the upgrade. The new generation Projection Mirror has a signal reception function, similar to radio and television.”
Melvin explained seriously. “Harry and Hermione should understand. Sometimes appliances pick up unexpected channels. It’s said some people received a fishing boat distress signal from across the Atlantic from months ago. This anomaly might be the Projection Mirror receiving other memories.”
“I understand too!” Ron raised his hand cheerfully. The fat rat sleeping in his pocket rolled over. “We have a radio at home. My mother uses it to listen to Cetina. When George, Fred, and my father were messing around, they always picked up Muggle stations.”
Hermione and Harry hadn’t quite believed it at first, but Ron’s words made it seem reasonable.
Wizards’ things can’t be viewed with ordinary eyes. A bit strange is normal.
Seeing the mysteriously smiling professor, Hermione pressed: “So if we want to investigate the truth and restore Hagrid’s reputation, how can we see more pictures?”
“The Projection Mirror anomaly is a chance event. I don’t know how to trigger it either.” Melvin frowned slightly. “Besides, this matter is very difficult. Even Dumbledore back then couldn’t prove Hagrid’s innocence. There might be no direct evidence in the castle.”
“We want to try!” the three said solemnly.
“Then good luck to you.”
Watching Professor Levent’s back disappear up the stairs, the three little ones standing in place felt a bit lost, as if they had heard a lot of news but none of it helped much in uncovering the truth.
……
Late at night, Muggle Studies Office.
The window was half open, a cool evening breeze gently blowing into the room, parchment flipping on the table, the open ink bottle exuding a faint fragrance, and ink floating on the open diary.
Melvin and his intimate pen pal were experiencing a crisis of trust:
「Tom, while reviewing Chamber of Secrets materials, I found some past events. The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, and the student who exposed Hagrid taming a dangerous creature was you, Tom Riddle.」
「Yes, and I received a special contribution award for it.」
Melvin paused briefly, seemingly very hesitant: 「But actually, the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets was you, right?」
The diary was silent for a long time: 「How did you find out?」
「Hagrid’s brain is no different from a troll’s. With just a few bottles of whiskey, he spilled everything…」 Melvin tried his best to show the bias and coldness influenced by dark magic. 「Compared to Rubus Hagrid, you, another Slytherin’s outstanding graduate, proficient in dark magic and familiar with Chamber of Secrets details, seem more like Slytherin’s heir.」
No new ink emerged on the paper surface. Senior Riddle was pondering.
Melvin continued writing: 「Now, tell me what’s inside the Chamber of Secrets and how to open it.」
