Amostas watched the somewhat disappointed Harry Potter leave his office. In the end, he couldn't extract a single secret from him that couldn't be revealed to outsiders.
Amostas wasn't surprised by this. A young wizard of this age was naturally in a sensitive period, and he himself was from Slytherin. If it were him, there would be no reason not to tell Headmaster Dumbledore everything he knew and instead trust a stranger.
However, after the recent probing, Amostas did confirm that Potter was hiding some crucial information. If he knew this information, the situation would probably not be so passive.
"Perhaps, I should think of a way to gain his trust?"
Amostas stared at the shifting light and shadow on the ceiling, frowning in distress. If the heir never showed his hand, what would he do?
Amostas had considered that he could perhaps brew some Polyjuice Potion and pretend to be Colin or Justin, spreading rumors that the petrified young wizard had woken up and provided crucial clues to the perpetrator's identity. He would just need to show the impostor's face and then hide in the infirmary, not coming out.
This was a good idea, but it had a flaw: if Colin and Justin hadn't seen the culprit's true face when they were petrified, then this method probably wouldn't scare the attacker.
"Let's wait and see—"
Amostas averted his gaze. He moved his finger towards the monitoring wall, and the curtains silently drew open. Staring at the flickering figures on the wall, he muttered,
"If there's no progress, then I'll just have to cling to the protagonist group's leg—"
Harry, leaving Mr. Brain's office, walked towards Gryffindor Tower. Originally, he had planned to tell Hermione about the conversation, but Harry thought carefully and felt there was no urgent need for Hermione's wisdom.
He had figured out the most crucial point: Mr. Brain wouldn't easily believe the school rumors. Before getting concrete evidence, he wouldn't imprison anyone in the castle. For Harry, that was enough.
As for not telling Mr. Brain about the terrifying voice and Dobby's warning, Harry thought this way:
Since Mr. Brain refused to clear his name, then even telling him these things would probably not change the outcome, and it would only make him seem more suspicious.
Moreover, he always believed that if anyone needed to know these things, it should be Headmaster Dumbledore—Harry thought this as he passed through the portrait hole after the Fat Lady.
Aside from Percy, the Weasley children were all sitting on a soft, large sofa under a bright crystal chandelier. They immediately looked relieved when they saw Harry and happily waved to him. This scene warmed Harry's heart.
"How was it, Harry? Did that Brain guy give you trouble because of Filch?" Ron stood up and handed Harry a glass of pumpkin juice.
"Better than I expected, Ron," Harry said with a grin.
Twenty minutes later, when Harry had recounted the entire conversation, the Weasley family, who had been tense with worry, all relaxed considerably.
"Oh, that investigator seems smarter than we thought, George. It seems our plan needs some adjustments," Fred muttered, but his expression looked a little disappointed. "We were going to give him a taste of his own medicine!"
"Definitely not, Fred," Harry said worriedly. "Mr. Brain isn't a show-off like Lockhart; he's not that easy to deal with!"
"Trust the professionals, Harry," George said proudly. "We never fail!"
"What are you planning to do?" Ron looked at George with keen interest. "Are you going to throw dungbombs into his office?"
When Harry said that he wouldn't be inexplicably expelled from school for now, Ginny's pale and haggard face, which looked as if she hadn't slept for half a month, regained some color. She put down her hand, which had been covering her chest, and breathed a sigh of relief. However, not long after, her breathing became ragged again, and she looked very tense.
"That Mr. Brain said he's monitoring the school, but how does he do it? I mean, he almost never leaves his office?"
This was indeed a puzzling question, and Harry couldn't answer it either. But his intuition told him that Mr. Brain wasn't lying. They discussed this issue for a long time, and the final conclusion was that it was probably related to the wall hidden behind the curtains.
"It seems we'll have to make a trip, Fred!" At the end of the conversation, George raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously at his brother.
"Of course, George. Besides the two of us, probably no one else can find a chance to sneak into his office!" Fred winked at George.
After everyone left, Fred whispered to George,
"Do you think that Brain guy will also have a copy of..."
"Shut up, Fred!" George quickly said, looking at Percy, who was struggling to climb into the common room. "Tomorrow, we'll figure out this problem."
On Tuesday morning, Gryffindor's third-year Charms class was with Professor Flitwick. Today, he was introducing the young wizards to a spell that could make people burst into laughter—the Cheering Charm.
"—At the end of the casting motion, your wands need a subtle upward flick. This is very important, ladies and gentlemen!" Professor Flitwick stood on a pile of books beside the podium, lecturing in a high-pitched voice. "Otherwise, when you come to, you'll find yourselves lying on the floor with a black baboon standing on your chest!"
"What are you two plotting again?"
Angelina saw that Fred and George weren't practicing the charm with each other. Instead, they were bent over, secretly looking at a piece of parchment. On the yellowed paper, many tiny, moving words were scrawling back and forth.
"Snooping is a despicable act, Katie. I wouldn't want a despicable person as my teammate~"
Fred turned his head, glaring to dismiss Angelina's gaze. Then he subtly winked at George. George, receiving the signal, immediately shook an orange-colored candy out of his sleeve.
"If I die because of this, Fred, remember to bury my body in Filch's office!" George said with a grin.
Three minutes later, the originally noisy classroom fell silent amidst a series of ear-splitting screams. George's two nostrils simultaneously sprayed bright red liquid, leaving everyone dumbfounded. Professor Flitwick rushed over. When he saw George's pathetic state and the large bloodstains on Fred's robes, he too fell into a panic.
"Fred... no, George... well, no matter which of you two it is, can someone please explain what happened?!"
"He's dying!" Fred, supporting the pale-faced George, said with a look of profound grief. "Will you allow me to find a place to bury my dear brother?"
"No one's dying, Weasley!" Professor Flitwick said angrily.
"Quickly take him to Madam Pomfrey to be treated. If you can make it back in time, I hope you can return to practice the Cheering Charm. This lesson is very important, Weasley, because..."
Professor Flitwick stopped before finishing his sentence, because upon hearing that he allowed them to go to the infirmary, the two Weasleys immediately sprang up, full of vigor, and dashed out of the classroom without looking back, leaving Professor Flitwick standing amidst a large pool of blood, bewildered.
Because it was class time, there were few young wizards wandering the castle. Fred and George, clutching their noses, ran wildly. When they reached the fourth floor, Fred suggested that he go to investigate Brain's office, while George went to the infirmary for a simple treatment.
"We haven't found an antidote for this thing yet, George. It might drain all the blood from your body!"
"Don't even think about going solo, Fred! You can't hog all the credit!" George, clutching his gurgling, bleeding nose, directly charged towards the third floor.
According to the observations from the past few days, Amostas Brain would only leave his mysterious office between 10:30 AM and 11:00 AM, and between 4:00 PM and 4:30 PM. He would first go to the kitchen to find something to eat, then go to the Prefects' Bathroom for a bath to relieve fatigue, and finally, rush back without delay.
The process of breaking the defensive charm on the office door was much easier than the twins had expected. A simple Alohomora charm solved everything.
The twins crept into the room. The simple furnishings in the office were transparent at a glance, not worth much attention. Fred and George stood excitedly facing the black curtain.
"Count down from three, and let's pull back this mysterious veil together!"
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