Chapter 139: Dumbledore Leaves the School

At dinner, Silven waited for Dumbledore in the entrance hall and told him that Hagrid was not the murderer of Moaning Myrtle—the basilisk was.

Dumbledore appeared greatly surprised, puzzled how Silven had learned of this.

"This happened fifty years ago."

He said, "Almost no one in the school knows about it—not even some professors."

Silven explained that he had repaired Hagrid's wand, so he had specifically looked into events from that time.

Dumbledore's expression cleared with sudden understanding. "No wonder the Halloween pumpkin last time was so enormous—it was you who fixed his wand."

"I didn't exactly fix it," Silven said. "I just made minor repairs. Headmaster, I just realized—the bathroom might be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Perhaps Myrtle was killed when she saw the basilisk's eyes."

"Your speculation makes sense," Dumbledore said. The candlelight on the wall glinted faintly off his spectacles.

"I've always believed Hagrid wasn't the true killer of Miss Warren, but it's true he kept a giant spider in the castle—that's why he was expelled."

"But many still suspect him."

"That's correct," Dumbledore nodded. "But we have no evidence, Mr. Ollivander. The Ministry won't believe Hogwarts houses a basilisk based on two unverified snake skins."

"They need more direct evidence—like a memory, or the actual basilisk. But we can't find either right now."

Silven truly had no solution. He couldn't open the Chamber, and Harry—who could—couldn't enter the bathroom.

As for memories… no one knew if the present-day Riddle could still provide relevant ones.

"I'm still glad you told me this, Mr. Ollivander. Hagrid would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore walked past Silven. "But let's hurry to dinner now. I suggest you try the orange marmalade pudding—it's truly delicious."

Hearing Dumbledore's words, Silven wasn't sure what he was thinking, but he didn't press further and followed him into the Great Hall.

As Dumbledore had said, the orange marmalade pudding was indeed delicious—though overly sweet, as if extra syrup had been added.

…

In the many days that followed, the three Gryffindors grew increasingly busy; few saw them in the common room, and Silven was the same.

But Harry and the others ran all over the castle, while Silven read in his dormitory.

"The Reversing Transfiguration"… that chained Transfiguration book was truly fascinating. Silven accidentally discovered that when he cast a Transfiguration spell on the pages while reading, the content changed depending on the type of Transfiguration used.

Normal reading showed "Advanced Transfiguration Guide: Advanced Edition." When casting a standard Transfiguration spell while reading, the original text vanished and was replaced with content on multiple transformations.

Multiple transformation meant first turning a matchstick into a needle, then the needle into a quill—this two-step process was called secondary transformation; turning the quill into a fork was tertiary transformation.

Silven wasn't interested in that. He tried turning the book back into a porcupine.

The content changed again—now it was about human transfiguration, with detailed explanations of Animagi.

This must be what Professor McGonagall truly wanted him to read. Why she hadn't told him directly and made him discover it himself—he didn't know.

Perhaps she wanted to test him again.

Still, one book with three different contents struck Silven as novel. Even after finishing it, he pulled it out daily to flip through again.

Until Monday, during Transfiguration class, when Professor McGonagall entered the classroom and just ten minutes later announced the exam would begin next week.

Silven then put away all Transfiguration-related books and took out his other textbooks.

Though he didn't care much about exam scores, performing too poorly would look bad—at least he needed an A (pass) in every subject.

This grade, though not crucial, was still an important measure of a wizard's ability.

Imagine if twenty years from now someone asked how Ollivander's Wand Shop was doing, and a wizard nearby chimed in: "Silven Ollivander? He got a T (Troll) on his school exams."

One would hear that and likely avoid buying a wand from him.

After spending over ten minutes, Silven finally found his other textbooks, especially "A History of Magic," which was covered in thick dust.

Only then did Silven realize that since second year, he hadn't opened "A History of Magic" once—even during class, he'd always read Transfiguration books and magazines.

Besides those, Lockhart's books were mostly piled in the corner.

That night, Silven began reading "A History of Magic" nonstop.

…

With the exam just three days away, students could be seen everywhere in the castle clutching books, eyes glued to the pages, even during walks and meals.

Silven was one of them.

That morning, as usual, he went to the Great Hall for breakfast and silently recited the contents of the Medieval European Wizards' Council.

Ten minutes later, the post owls flew in on schedule, dropping letters and packages into everyone's hands.

Dumbledore also received a letter—and notably, it was delivered by a seagull, not the familiar owls.

"Ron, can seagulls deliver mail?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Of course they can," Ron said. "Not every place likes owls. Some coastal countries prefer seagulls for mail."

Both turned to look toward the staff table; Silven lifted his head too.

Dumbledore took the letter from the seagull's beak, glanced at it, then immediately stood up.

A look of urgency crossed his face. After whispering a few words to Professor McGonagall, he hurried out of the Great Hall.

Silven noticed he didn't head toward the stairs—he walked straight out of the castle.

A few curious students slipped out to peek, then returned to tell everyone that Dumbledore had left the school.

"Absolutely true—I watched him walk out the castle gates," Lee Jordan, surrounded by others, declared confidently. "Then he Disapparated."

"Who sent that letter?" Fred asked with interest. "It made the Headmaster abandon his unfinished breakfast and leave the school immediately."

"No idea," George said. "But it must've been important. You saw his expression—it was deadly serious."

"I bet it came from the International Confederation of Wizards. They're known to use seagulls as messengers…"

…

With the exam approaching, the castle's atmosphere grew heavier. A rare interesting event sparked immediate chatter among everyone—a welcome distraction.

Silven didn't join in. He cared more about why Dumbledore had left the school at this moment—was he truly that confident in his own magic?

Then he glanced again toward the staff table—the farthest seat—where Lockhart was chatting with Professor Sprout, looking delighted, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the conversation or something else.

……

(End of Chapter)