Chapter 286: Hot Topic

According to Harry and Sirius's original plan, they would use Thursday afternoon to visit Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood, the editor of The Quibbler. For this, Harry had already taken leave from Professor McGonagall for Transfiguration and from Angelina for the Quidditch team.

But early Thursday morning, Harry unexpectedly saw the Death Eaters' first strike in the Daily Prophet.

"... his friendship soon took another turn: two handsome young men forged a blood oath in a barn, vowing never to harm each other. In truth, what they did in the barn went beyond magic; this blood oath did not signify close friends or comrades, but something far less accepted by society—love."

Harry's head buzzed. He didn't continue reading, because as he considered this direction, every memory of Grindelwald and his subsequent actions provided overwhelming evidence and support for the idea.

"The book didn't say the Death Eaters had started already?" Ron said, scanning the paper as he shoveled oatmeal into his mouth. "This is ridiculous. Newt's nearly a hundred. They can't bully an old man like this."

"What bullying of an old man?" Harry forced his focus on the lower half of the paper—a profile of the magizoologist Newt Scamander, who believed Albus's attitude toward Gellert went beyond ordinary friendship; another interviewee was even bolder, explicitly stating the two were a same-sex couple.

Queenie Goldstein, an American Auror who had once served closely under Grindelwald, provided further details: Grindelwald had repeatedly fantasized about persuading Dumbledore to return to him, or even applied hair gel and changed into a flowered tie before meeting Dumbledore. The most crucial evidence was that, while manipulating her, Grindelwald had openly admitted his relationship with Dumbledore—and Queenie, through her innate Legilimency, confirmed he was not lying.

"She's right. Newt just won't admit it," Harry said dazedly. "The Death Eaters' move is clever—because this might have actually happened."

"That's impossible," Ron exclaimed. "If it's true—if it really happened—Rita would never let this go. She'd put it in her book!"

"Did you notice Queenie's identity?" Harry shook his head. "Rita was manipulated by the White House. They deliberately released the book first to make us lower our guard, then immediately published conclusions in the paper to catch us off guard."

"Can we expose this lie? It's fake, right?" Ron stammered. "Can we find Dumbledore's wife or children—even an illegitimate one? Aurelius—yes, could Aurelius be Albus's son?"

"Calm down, Ron. That's the stupidest response," Harry sighed deeply. "You know I've read Grindelwald's memories. Their relationship was exactly like this—we just never thought of it that way before."

"So if it's true, to disprove it now, we'd have to lie—and the more we lie, the worse it gets." Harry took another deep breath. "This is a trap designed to make us stumble."

"But this—" Ron blinked, noticing classmates around them, after reading the paper, had begun enthusiastically discussing it.

"Do you know why Newt refuses to speak, but Queenie readily admits it?" Harry nodded. "For old-fashioned English gentlemen, same-sex love is disgusting, shameful, and morally corrupt. But for younger generations shaped by American values, it's honorable, beautiful, or at worst, neutral and perfectly acceptable."

"The only problem to solve is how to separate Dumbledore from Grindelwald's persecution of Muggles, so people understand Dumbledore isn't a hypocrite—he simply corrected a mistake from his youth." Harry gradually regained his rational thinking. "It's not hard. We can shift blame entirely onto Grindelwald: Dumbledore was deceived, or blinded by love. Either way, he ultimately defeated Grindelwald and shattered his plot—that's an undeniable fact, so it's not defamation."

As he spoke, Harry suddenly remembered: in Rita's book, she had also emphasized this point—that Dumbledore ultimately chose the light, beyond dispute. So perhaps the White House or the Ministry hadn't fully sided with the Death Eaters, but leaned toward neutrality.

After a troubled morning, Harry met Sirius as planned. They quickly exchanged opinions on the day's paper, and Sirius promised he'd contact Diggle and Albus's brother to help strengthen the Order's resolve.

As for the other key figure, Severus Snape, he still had seven Potions classes before Saturday—he likely had neither the time nor energy to respond to this, and might not even have read the paper.

When they Apparated to a location just beyond the hill from the Burrow and saw Lovegood's house—a bizarre, towering black cylinder—Harry inexplicably felt a bad premonition.

"Looks like a war chariot," Sirius chuckled.

They passed through the gate with hand-painted wooden signs, walked along the winding path, passed two wind-bent old crabapple trees, then rang the doorbell.

The wizard who opened the door had snow-white hair, wore a pale yellow robe, and had slightly cross-eyed.

"Ah, Mr. Black, we had an appointment, didn't we?" He shook Sirius's hand. "And this must be the famous Harry Potter—you know our Luna, right?"

"Yes, we're quite good friends," Harry said politely. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lovegood."

"Come in for a cup of Gurdyroot tea," he said, leading Harry and Sirius upstairs. Clearly few guests came here; though tidied, Harry noticed a covered printing press dominating one corner of the living room, out of place.

"Mr. Black already told me—you're here to discuss next issue's content," Xenophilius said, pouring tea. "I understand. The Quibbler carries weight in public opinion. But I need to clarify something upfront."

"I didn't start this magazine to be anyone's mouthpiece, but to spark thought and inspiration. So if you want me to drop an article already prepared, you must present a more clever perspective." Xenophilius pulled a magazine from beneath the printing press cover. "I haven't finished layout yet, but you can read this—it's from a man named Cresswell."

"Cresswell?!" Harry and Sirius exclaimed together. Harry instantly recalled his near-argument with Albus's brother and flipped open the magazine—sure enough, it was about Aurelius.

"Why would he care about this?" Sirius frowned at the magazine, which depicted a young black-haired man with large letters beside him: Aurelius Dumbledore.

"He heard something from Albus's brother," Harry began reading. "It's impolite to pry into others' privacy, and as an Auror, he shouldn't be doing this."

Skimming quickly, Harry realized Cresswell wasn't betraying Albus—he was likely trying, in good faith, to use Aurelius to prove Dumbledore wasn't gay, but had accidentally stepped into the Death Eaters' pre-set trap.

"I can guess," Xenophilius said as Harry and Sirius finished reading. "This topic is hot right now, and clearly, Cresswell's points are real. I'd say there's at least a thirty percent chance Aurelius is truly Dumbledore's son."

"First, we see three hard-to-answer questions: Why did the Dumbledore brothers hide Aurelius's mother's identity? Why wasn't Aurelius raised by the Dumbledores but given to Muggles? And why did Grindelwald know his name and lineage?" Xenophilius said. "Behind these three questions, we must place a giant question mark: Who is Aurelius's father?"

"Could it really be Albus?" Sirius asked doubtfully. "But then how do we explain his relationship with Grindelwald?"

"Godfather, I think we need a new approach," Harry tugged Sirius's sleeve. "The truth may be lost forever. What we need is a theory that fits all facts while protecting Dumbledore's reputation as much as possible."

"Then Aurelius's father can only be Albus's brother," Sirius said gravely. "We'd rather admit Albus is gay than admit he's a heartless father who abandoned his child."

"In fact, Albus really is gay, so he's unlikely to have fathered a child with a woman," Harry added.