Dumbledore wasn't surprised by the "Golden Boy" in front of him. Over the past year and a half of observation, he believed he had figured him out completely.
"Very few young wizards at your age have the courage you do, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile.
Harry thought to himself, if I were still the second-year student I was a hundred years ago, not to mention facing the Basilisk, I'd have a hard time even confronting Cassandra.
"Thank you for the compliment, Professor," Harry replied with a smile.
Just then, Phineas Black returned to his portrait.
Seeing Harry, he greeted with a smile, "Hello, Potter."
Harry turned his head; he didn't expect Phineas to take the initiative to greet him.
He thought that ever since that Polyjuice Potion incident, Phineas didn't want to acknowledge him anymore.
"Hello, Principal Black," Harry replied.
Phineas smiled mischievously, put on his nightcap, and turned over to go to bed.
Dumbledore, who thought they had met previously in the headmaster's office, didn't think much of it and said with a cheerful smile, "Oh, it seems you two have already met before — quite strange, Phineas, it's the first time I've seen you greet someone from another house."
"After all, he's an excellent student from our school, wouldn't you say, Potter?" Phineas said meaningfully.
"Thank you for your compliment, Professor Black," Harry replied courteously, with impeccable manners.
Seeing the flawless etiquette of this former student, Phineas turned over satisfied and drifted into slumber.
"It seems he really appreciates you, Harry." Dumbledore was a bit doubtful but didn't think much of it: "It's the first time I've seen Phineas appreciate a student who's not from Slytherin College—you're the first."
"Perhaps he can see something extraordinary in me," Harry raised his eyebrows, "which is exactly what a competent headmaster should do."
Dumbledore shook his head with a smile and said, "Oh no, Harry, you might not know, but when Phineas was the headmaster, his reputation wasn't too great..."
"Really?" Harry chuckled noncommittally, thinking to himself that Phineas was indeed a bit annoying, but in fact, he achieved many things that other headmasters could not.
Uniting the four houses was one thing, but during his time as headmaster, Hogwarts graduates were far more outstanding compared to now.
If you look at results-oriented perspectives, in fact, Phineas was slightly more competent than Dumbledore.
While in school, everyone thought a happy education was good, but when it came to exams or facing dark wizards, one realized how precious a bit of hard work in school really was.
After all, Dumbledore wasn't the kind of person who liked to speak ill of others, either in their face or behind their back, nor did he share Phineas' dark history with Harry.
He found an excuse to send Harry out of the headmaster's office.
After leaving the headmaster's office, Harry returned to his dormitory.
Sitting on his bed, he racked his brains thinking about where exactly the Chamber of Secrets could be.
He thought about it the whole night, and by the next morning, he still hadn't slept.
"Oh, Melina," Ron remarked, "Mate, your eyes are so dark."
"Yes, just like that panda in the Muggle zoo," Seamus chimed in, "I think you need some rest, Harry."
He said this as he glanced up at the calendar.
"Congratulations, today is Tuesday—but you'll have to wait until the afternoon to get a chance to sleep."
Seamus was referring to History of Magic, as missing a nap in Professor Bin's class was truly a shame.
This morning, there was a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and Harry, yawning, arrived at the Great Hall, eating breakfast somewhat absent-mindedly and sluggishly.
He was carefully weighing the method he thought of last night.
Two options lay before him: the first option was to find the Chamber of Secrets first and eliminate the Basilisk—a benefit of this was to quickly extinguish the threat within Hogwarts, but the downside was obvious, allowing the Diary to continue lurking, unpredictably resurfacing like a groundhog to cause harm.
The second option was to lure the snake out of its hole, making Voldemort, hidden in the shadows, believe Dumbledore had left the school, thereby lifting the lockdown—but the downside was Harry worried Voldemort might use the Basilisk to run amok in total chaos.
Harry absent-mindedly continued eating until he suddenly noticed a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Here," Ron handed him a mirror, his shoulders shaking as if he was about to burst into laughter.
Hermione was the same, covering her mouth, watching Harry with amusement.
Harry took the mirror and looked into it, discovering his mouth was stained black with ink.
"Oh dear, Harry," Ron laughed exaggeratedly, "We were calling you, but you didn't respond at all, and you were dipping your fries into Percy's ink bottle… What on earth were you thinking about, so engrossed?"
"Haha..." Harry laughed as well, only to show teeth stained pitch black with ink.
After using a magic spell to clean up, he took some fresh ketchup.
"Just thinking about some important things," Harry said casually, not intending to involve them in such dangerous activities, "I was contemplating what to do with you all in the next Dueling House meeting—"
"Isn't it supposed to be practical combat?" Ron said with a smile, "An Unrestricted Magic Spell Tournament—is that what it's called? I'm very interested."