When we appeared before the headmaster's office, covered in mud and blood, there was a brief silence, followed by cries of alarm.
"Ginny!"
Mrs. Weasley, who had been crying by the fireplace, jumped up and rushed to Ginny. A moment later, Mr. Weasley joined her, and together they wrapped their daughter in a tight embrace.
"You saved our child! You saved her life! But how?"
"I believe all of us would like to know that," Professor McGonagall said quietly.
We walked over to the desk. Harry placed the sword down, Ron set the Sorting Hat beside it, I laid out the basilisk fang, Ginny put down Riddle's diary, and Saya placed the rooster last.
"A rooster…?"
Up until the diary, Professor Dumbledore had remained calm, but now he opened his eyes slightly in surprise.
"It's thanks to Professor McGonagall's class. By the way, his name is Cockatrice."
With that, I began recounting everything that had happened. Sometimes I spoke emotionally, sometimes I deliberately paused to build suspense. Those listening were utterly captivated, listening in complete silence.
When I finished telling the whole story, a discussion began between Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Professor Dumbledore about Riddle's diary. How the diary had controlled Ginny, who Tom Riddle really was, and his connection to Lord Voldemort.
After that, Professor Dumbledore instructed Professor McGonagall to take the Weasleys and Ginny to the hospital wing. Left behind were Harry, Ron, Saya, and myself.
"Well then, you four have shattered nearly a hundred school rules," Professor Dumbledore said. "However, given the circumstances, there will be no punishment. Each of your houses will receive one hundred points, and you will all be awarded the Hogwarts Special Award for Services to the School."
He then went on to tell Harry and the others that the basilisk's victims had recovered thanks to Mandrake juice. Ron leapt into the air with joy.
"Then Hermione and the others are really okay!"
"There were no irreversible aftereffects at all," Professor Dumbledore replied.
He told the Gryffindor students to go visit their friends first, and the three of them left the office happily.
As for me, the headmaster looked at me with clear curiosity and asked, "May I have a little of your time?" I had no reason to refuse, so I stayed behind. Soon, only Professor Dumbledore and I remained in the room.
"Now then, Elaina, please have a seat."
Following his invitation, I sat down in the chair.
"First of all, allow me to thank you. In the Chamber of Secrets, you showed great ingenuity in thwarting Riddle's scheme."
Professor Dumbledore glanced over the magical artifacts lined up on the desk, and finally his gaze settled on the rooster, Cockatrice.
"This one is called Cockatrice, was it? Unfortunately, he will not last until tomorrow."
Being a magically created creature, he could not live long. I had known that, but when the moment of parting drew near, I could not help feeling a touch of sadness.
"…Isn't there anything that can be done?"
"There are a few ways to prolong his life," Professor Dumbledore said, "but none of them offer a fundamental solution. Forcibly extending life through magic would only lead to a pitiful end. You saw that yourself last year, in the Forbidden Forest, did you not?"
It was obvious he was referring to unicorn blood.
"Then tonight, I would like to stay by Cockatrice's side together with Harry and the others."
"Cockatrice would be pleased to hear that."
Professor Dumbledore said he would arrange for us to remain in Ginny's ward until nightfall.
"Now, let us move on to someone who is not here."
"You mean…?"
"Feigning ignorance will do you no good. You noticed it too, did you not? I speak of Gilderoy."
Professor Dumbledore smiled, and the blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles peered straight at me. Reflexively, I looked away.
"Professor Dumbledore, staring at a lady so intently is poor manners."
"Oh, quite right. My apologies."
With a gentle expression, he spoke kindly to me.
"I am not blaming you. The outcome differed slightly from what I had anticipated, so I merely wished to ask."
As he spoke, Professor Dumbledore stroked Fawkes, who was resting quietly on his lap.
"To be frank, I hired that man to serve as a negative example for you students. That included the expectation that his shameful truths would be exposed by Harry and the others."
He paused, then continued.
"However, you found a virtue in Gilderoy that even I had overlooked. His actions were hardly praiseworthy, and he was certainly no hero, yet as a writer you admired him. And without Gilderoy himself realizing it, changes were slowly beginning to take root within him."
Professor Dumbledore reached into a drawer of his desk and took out a neatly folded newspaper. It was a proof copy of tomorrow morning's Daily Prophet.
"Gilderoy Lockhart Donates a Vast Sum of His Personal Fortune to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."
"This is…"
"It means there was still a trace of conscience left within Gilderoy," Professor Dumbledore said. "Of course, that does not erase his past misdeeds. But would you like to know more?"
At his words, I slowly shook my head.
"I heard from Saya that in the East, there is a saying: 'Ignorance is bliss.' The truth can be beautiful, but it can also be frightening."
"Indeed. That is why it must be handled with care. If you feel that the time is not yet right, I will say nothing further."
Though he said so, his voice carried a hint of lingering dissatisfaction. Still, it was unlikely he would resort to anything underhanded.
As if he could see through my thoughts, Professor Dumbledore smiled.
"Elaina, I know your mother well. Both during her time at Hogwarts, and afterward."
I raised my face.
"At the height of Lord Voldemort's power, when this country was split in two, she never declared which side she stood on. Instead, she fled to America with the man she loved. There, in safety, she gave birth to and raised you without exposing her family to danger."
Even after Voldemort's disappearance, there were those on both sides who pointed fingers at our family and called us cowards. And in truth, that accusation was not entirely unfounded.
"Victorica was astonishingly similar to you," Professor Dumbledore continued. "She was sociable, with many friends on both sides. To an outsider, it may have seemed she lived a carefree life in America, but her heart could not have been at peace."
Mother never seemed eager to talk about that time. She would tell me many things, but I could always sense that she chose her words carefully, so the conversation would not grow too dark.
"Even so, Victorica tried to help her friends in her own way. I have heard that she petitioned the Magical Congress of the United States of America, MACUSA, to protect refugees from Britain, and that she even humbled herself before your grandfather, despite her dislike of him."
"You even know about my mother and grandfather not getting along…?"
At that, I could only stare at him in disbelief.
Mother thoroughly disliked my grandfather, the head of the Celesteria family. As an adult, she never made it obvious, but even to a child it was clear that she tried to keep as much distance from him as possible whenever we visited relatives in America.
"More to the point," Professor Dumbledore said, "Victorica herself told me. She asked that, at the appropriate time, you be told the truth: that she was a hidden child, raised in an orphanage, just like Riddle."
(End of chapter)
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