"Professor Dumbledore?" Jon couldn't help but frown.
"My great-grandmother was friends with Headmaster Dumbledore back when she attended Hogwarts…" Astoria explained softly. "The Greengrass family is one of the few pureblood houses that maintained a relatively good relationship with Headmaster Dumbledore."
"I see..." Jon began to understand why Umbridge had targeted Astoria's mother. With such a connection, it was inevitable that the Ministry of Magic would be wary.
"Professor Dumbledore was a truly great wizard..." Astoria continued. "Mother told me that without his help, I might have..."
Astoria's voice trailed off. Her breathing suddenly grew slightly ragged.
"If there's a secret you'd rather not share," Jon said calmly, "then don't. Everyone has their own secrets."
Astoria's face showed a look of struggle, but in the end, she nodded. The small room fell into a brief silence.
...
"What's that?" Astoria suddenly pointed outside the window, calling out in surprise.
Through the frost-covered glass, the outline of a bright red bird could be seen.
"Oh, damn it!" Jon muttered, rushing toward the window to open it.
Before he could reach it, however, the crimson bird had already transmigrated through space, leaping through the wall to appear before them.
"Good heavens!" Astoria covered her mouth in shock, scrutinizing the crimson bird with utter disbelief. "Could this be... a..."
"You're right. This silly bird is a Phoenix!" Jon shook his head helplessly, watching Fawkes rudely stick his head into Jon's pocket before pulling it back out with a look of disgust.
"That's impossible..." Astoria still found it hard to believe. "According to records, Phoenixes are incredibly proud and precious Magical Creatures, rarely tamed by humans..."
"But there are exceptions to every rule!" Jon chuckled. "You've seen her once before!"
"I have?" Astoria glanced at Jon in confusion, then looked back at the Phoenix on the table.
"Last June, she delivered a letter to you..." Jon prompted.
Astoria propped her chin in her hand, deep in thought. After a few seconds, she seemed to realize something and tentatively asked Fawkes, "Could it be... that little golden owl was you?"
Fawkes shot Astoria a dismissive glance before nodding slightly.
"How could you..." Astoria looked to Jon for help. "Do Phoenixes grow that fast?"
"Rebirth... this silly..." Jon started to say "silly bird," but then remembered Fawkes' recent sacrifice to protect him; it would be rather rude, so he quickly changed his words. "Poor Fawkes... she'd just undergone rebirth, so she was smaller in size."
"I see..." Astoria's eyes lit up with understanding. She clearly knew about the Phoenix's rebirth through fire.
Her face glowing with excitement, she approached the Phoenix on the table and asked softly, "May I touch your tail feathers?"
Fawkes seemed offended. She flew up haughtily, flapping her wings.
A golden feather fell before Jon. At the same moment, a flash of gold filled the air, and the Phoenix vanished.
Astoria looked slightly embarrassed and withdrew her outstretched hand.
"Don't worry... this silly bird just has such an unpredictable temperament!" Jon reassured her.
He then picked up the golden feather from the table, and Dumbledore's voice echoed in his ears—just two simple words: The Hog's Head.
"Sorry..." Jon glanced at Astoria. "I might have something to attend to. I'll be gone for a little while."
"Is it important?" Astoria asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"Yes." Jon nodded. "Why don't you head back to Hogwarts first?"
"Alright."
...
Ten minutes later, Jon, having parted ways with Astoria, appeared at the entrance of The Hog's Head.
Unlike the Three Broomsticks next door, this place was noticeably quieter. A tattered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket above the door, depicting a severed pig's head with blood seeping through the white cloth binding it.
The oddly dressed bartender, wrapped head to toe in layers, crouched at the bar entrance feeding several goats.
As Jon approached, the man looked up, his aged voice asking, "Looking for the Headmaster?"
Jon nodded.
"Follow me!" Before Jon could respond, the old man roughly pulled him into the tavern.
Inside, the few customers present were dressed much like the bartender—completely wrapped up. Jon, by contrast, stood out.
Fortunately, everyone was preoccupied with their own affairs, and no one noticed the boy who had just entered.
The bartender dragged Jon all the way up to a small room on the second floor. It was a tiny, dim, and filthy space, permeated by a strong, pungent smell of sheep.
Jon took a careful look around. Thick grime caked the bay windows, blocking out nearly all outside light. Rough wooden tables held a few stubby candles. At first glance, the floor appeared to be compacted earth, but stepping on it revealed centuries of grime piled atop stone paving.
Beside the wooden table sat a tub of Butterbeer and several grimy drinking cups.
Fawkes stood on the bucket lid, her expression suggesting she found every other spot in the room too filthy.
On the other side of the wooden table sat an elderly man with kind, benevolent features.
Albus Dumbledore wore a black traveling cloak and a pointed hat.
"Good morning, Jon!" Dumbledore removed his hat and smiled.
Jon slipped off the iron ring on his finger for the second time that day and greeted him in return. "Good morning, Professor."
"My apologies," Dumbledore said regretfully. "Fawkes informed me... I seem to have interrupted your meeting with Miss Greengrass."
"It's fine. She'll understand." Jon shook his head. "Besides, I have quite a few matters I need to discuss with you."
"Very well, take a seat!" Dumbledore waved his hand, and a cleaner cushion appeared on a nearby grimy chair.