The sound of Minerva McGonagall choking on her tea and the liquid splashing across the table created a small, instant circle of silence around her. Several professors, including Dumbledore, who was closest, turned their heads towards her with expressions of genuine surprise. It was as unusual as seeing a hippogriff doing pirouettes.
"Minerva, my dear," asked Dumbledore softly, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, "have you received some shocking news?"
"By Merlin's beard, Minerva, what happened?" asked Professor Flitwick, almost jumping from his seat to get a better look.
Minerva, her cheeks slightly flushed, had already regained control. With a quick, precise flick of her wand, she vanished the spilled tea and repaired the cup.
"It's nothing,Albus, Filius," she said, her voice a bit tighter than normal. "I was merely startled by the... peculiar synopsis of this book."
Several gazes, from both professors and students who had witnessed the unusual spectacle, fell upon the volume she was clutching tightly. Some, like Professor Snape and a few Slytherin students who saw it, snorted disdainfully upon reading "Harry Potter" on the cover and returned to their conversations, uninterested in what seemed like another sensationalist pamphlet about the boy hero. Others simply continued with their breakfast.
But Filius Flitwick was not one of them.
"I received one too!"he exclaimed, holding up his own copy. "It's a beautiful binding, truly. But I thought it was just another story about young Potter."
Dumbledore nodded, a shadow of weariness in his eyes.
"Unfortunately,Filius, it has become fashionable in recent years to exploit Harry's story. The price of fame, I suppose."
Minerva, however, was not convinced. With slightly trembling fingers, she opened the book. She noted that it contained not only text but also exquisite, moving illustrations, created with magic similar to that of portraits. "The Boy Who Lived..." she read the title of the first chapter, and sighed internally. Here we go again.
But then, her eyes fell upon the first line. And the world stopped for the second time in five minutes.
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense."
An icy chill ran down Minerva's spine. The Dursleys. Harry's muggle relatives. No one, absolutely no one in the wizarding world, apart from Albus, herself, Hagrid, and Arabella Figg, knew their names or address. How was this possible?
"Minerva," Dumbledore's voice was now more urgent upon seeing another startle from the cat-like woman, "what has startled you so?"
This time, Minerva moved with the feline speed of her Animagus form. She sprang to her feet and in two steps was beside Dumbledore, thrusting the open book before his eyes with such force she almost hit his nose.
"Albus,look!" she whispered shrilly. "Someone has written about Harry's muggle relatives!"
Dumbledore, startled by the abruptness of the movement, didn't grasp her words at first. But then, his blue eyes focused on the text. All the kindness vanished from his face, replaced by a sudden seriousness.
"Minerva,"he asked, his voice low but clear, "did this book arrive from Flourish and Blotts?"
"Yes!" she nodded, desperate.
The other professors and the nearest students watched the scene with growing bewilderment and curiosity. Albus, noticing the stares, raised a calming hand and forced a smile.
"Everything is quite alright,nothing to worry about," he announced in his most avuncular tone. "A small misunderstanding. Please, carry on with your breakfast."
His speech was interrupted by a sudden, sharp laugh from Professor Flitwick. All eyes turned to him. The tiny Charms master, utterly unashamed, was laughing heartily, holding his own book.
"Minerva!"he managed to say, breathless. "This 'stiff-legged cat' is you, isn't it! It's too funny seeing you reading a muggle map with that look of superiority in your Animagus form! Hahaha!"
Minerva and Albus looked at the illustration beside the text. It showed a tabby cat with distinctive markings around its eyes, sitting stiffly on a wall, staring intently at an unfolded map. In the background, an extraordinarily fat muggle man with a walrus mustache and a tight-fitting suit could be seen, with an expression of profound bewilderment.
Minerva paled. A flash of memory, from nearly eight years ago, crossed her mind. A long, cold vigil on Privet Drive. It was impossible. No one could know. Or could they?
She turned to Dumbledore with a look of pure panic. Albus no longer looked merely serious, but deeply, worriedly contemplative.
"I think,Minerva," he said softly, but with a weight that froze the blood, "this is not a simple storybook."
"Minerva, Filius," Dumbledore's voice regained its usual authority, but now it was tense, "would you accompany me to my office, please?"
Minerva didn't wait. She was already striding off, her dark green robes swishing in her wake. Dumbledore rose more calmly, but his gaze swept the Great Hall with unusual intensity.
"Ah,Severus, Pomona," he added, pausing. "You as well, please."
Professor Sprout, with an expression of confused concern, obediently rose and followed them. Severus Snape let out a deep, resigned sigh, as if he expected any interruption to his morning peace to ultimately involve him, and joined the group.
The students and the rest of the staff watched, in a silence heavy with rumor, as five of Hogwarts's most important professors exited the Great Hall. Professor Flitwick, still flipping through his book with an amused smile that was slowly fading as he noticed the others' gravity, was the last to leave. Minerva, for her part, was clutching hers so tightly her knuckles were white.
The moment the great doors of the hall closed behind them, the silence erupted into a torrent of murmurs and gossip. Every conversation now revolved around the mysterious book, McGonagall and Dumbledore's reactions, and the sudden emergency meeting. Gazes of curiosity, now mixed with genuine interest and avidity, fell upon the few fortunate (or perhaps not) students who had a copy of "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" on their tables. Breakfast was over. The feast of gossip and speculation had just begun.