"Arthur was attacked?" Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's brow furrowed deeply.
He lowered his head, lost in thought for a moment...
Then he looked toward Jon. "Would you like to step aside?"
"Mhm." Jon nodded, took a few steps back, and entered the small alcove where the Pensieve stood. He quietly closed the door behind him.
...
A loud rumbling echoed through the stone walls — it sounded like the gargoyle outside was moving aside.
Then came a faint, crackling sound, as though something was rising...
Finally, three crisp knocks sounded on the door.
The doors to the Headmaster's Office swung open on their own. Through the narrow gap, Jon saw three figures step inside.
At the front was Professor Minerva McGonagall, followed closely by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
"Oh, good evening, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore greeted, lifting his head to look at her. "He seemed utterly oblivious to the boys' entrance, not sparing them so much as a glance.
"Professor Dumbledore, Potter just had a... a nightmare," Professor McGonagall said. "He said—"
"It wasn't a nightmare," Harry interrupted quickly.
McGonagall turned to look at him, frowning slightly.
"Very well, Potter. Tell the Headmaster yourself."
Fawkes appeared undisturbed by the commotion in the room. The phoenix slept soundly on her perch, head tucked beneath her wing. Dumbledore watched her intently, as though she were far more interesting than anything else in the office.
"Well, I was asleep..." Harry began quickly. "In my dream... it wasn't an ordinary dream — it felt incredibly real. I saw Voldemort. He attacked Ron's dad — Mr. Weasley."
The words lingered awkwardly in the air, absurd and almost unbelievable. When he uttered "Voldemort," McGonagall's breath caught sharply, and Ron gave an involuntary shudder.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Ron glanced between Harry and Dumbledore, his face pale with shock.
"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "May I ask — how did you see it?"
"How should I know?" Harry shot back, frustration rising at Dumbledore's calm tone. "Maybe it was just in my head!"
"No, Harry," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I mean — from what point of view did you see it? When the attack happened, where were you? Standing beside the victim, or looking down on the scene?"
"I was... standing where You-Know-Who was," Harry admitted after a pause.
Silence filled the room. Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Ron, whose face was still ghostly pale. Then, in a firmer tone, he asked, "Was Arthur badly hurt?"
"Very badly... He was hit by some kind of curse — I don't know which one," Harry said, anger edging into his voice. He couldn't understand why the Headmaster didn't seem more alarmed.
But Dumbledore suddenly rose to his feet, startling him.
...
"Everard?" Dumbledore's voice rang sharply. "And you, Dilys!"
A middle-aged wizard with short black hair and sallow skin, and an elderly witch beside him with long, curled silver hair, both opened their eyes at once. They had been fast asleep just moments before.
"You heard that?" Dumbledore asked.
The wizard nodded, and the witch replied, "Of course."
"It's a man — red hair, wears glasses," Dumbledore said briskly. "Everard, raise the alarm and make sure he's found by our own people. Dilys, go to St. Mungo's immediately. Tell them a patient suffering from a dark curse will be arriving shortly."
The two portraits emptied as their occupants vanished.
"But... Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!" Harry shouted.
"We need a signal, Fawkes." Dumbledore still didn't respond to Harry, instead gently running a finger over the phoenix's golden crest.
Fawkes stirred awake.
In a burst of flame, the phoenix disappeared.
Only then did Dumbledore lift his gaze to his visitors. "Minerva, please take Harry and Weasley to Grimmauld Place. If possible, wake the rest of the Weasley children — let them leave for the holidays early."
Professor McGonagall nodded grimly.
She patted Harry's shoulder, tugged Ron's arm, and motioned for them to follow her out.
...
Once again, only two people remained in the Headmaster's Office.
"I'm terribly sorry, but this lesson will have to be interrupted," Professor Dumbledore said apologetically, glancing at Jon.
Jon did his best to look shocked. "Is it that serious?"
"Absolutely dreadful!" Headmaster Everard had reappeared in his portrait, breathing heavily. "I shouted until someone came. The Aurors found him... He looked terrible, covered in blood — but thank Merlin, it wasn't the Killing Curse!"
"Seems Tom didn't want to draw too much attention," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Let's hope Arthur pulls through."
A minute later, Headmistress Dilys Derwent returned to her portrait. "Albus... He's been taken to St. Mungo's. His life isn't in danger."
"Good. Thank you both." Dumbledore turned toward another portrait. "Phineas?"
Headmaster Phineas Black appeared in his silver-and-green Slytherin robes, seemingly still asleep and unaware Dumbledore was calling him.
"Phineas."
"Phineas!"
"Phineas!"
The other portraits joined in, shouting his name.
"Phineas is asleep!" Phineas Black said indignantly, covering his face with a hand.
"Is that so? Perhaps you'd like to try this," Headmistress Derwent said, raising her wand.
"Ah!" Phineas yelped, leaping up and forcing a nervous grin. "At your service, Albus. What do you need?"
"Locate Severus. Tell him to proceed to Grimmauld Place at once — the plan must be brought forward," Dumbledore instructed gravely.
...
As Headmaster Phineas Black shuffled away, the Headmaster's Office once again fell silent.
"Oh, right — Jon." Dumbledore turned to him kindly. "Do you have any plans for the Christmas holidays?"
"Yes, Professor," Jon replied earnestly. "I'd like to visit France."