"Yes, indeed. So, how did you know that? As far as I know, you don't have access to the Ministry of Magic." Dumbledore folded his hands and looked at Moriarty with his chin raised.
"Is an award for an academic journal worthy of the Minister of Magic's personal commendation?" Moriarty asked rhetorically. He walked over to the Sorting Hat, touched the tip of his own hat, and said casually, "It couldn't be more obvious—she liked it. My fame. She hopes to increase her approval ratings through celebrity influence."
Moriarty added, "It's just the old tricks of politicians. I don't like it."
Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I'm glad you can see through the hypocrisy on the faces of politicians. Although graduates enter the Ministry of Magic every year, I have always opposed the involvement of ungraduated students with the Ministry."
Moriarty nodded noncommittally, glanced at the professors in the room, and said, "If there's nothing else, I think it's time for me to go to class. Professor Flitwick is teaching the Softening Charm today."
"Wait a minute," Dumbledore said suddenly, then he winked at Moriarty. "Prepare for the Quidditch match. I dare say this Slytherin-Gryffindor game will be the best in the last ten years."
Moriarty acknowledged it and left.
Watching him walk out of the office, Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, Mr. Moriarty doesn't seem to be interested in your Transfiguration Club?"
"Yes, Albus." Professor McGonagall answered truthfully. "Miss Gemma Farley mentioned it to Mr. Moriarty, but he didn't respond."
Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "Severus, what do you think?"
"Who? Slytherin?" Professor Snape sneered. "That fool Blanche once said: If you show Moriarty the formula and steps of a potion, he will be able to brew the corresponding potion flawlessly.
In potions alone, Slytherin's qualities give us no reason to doubt him. He is intelligent, strong, calm, and… I can feel it in his potions—love."
"Love?" Dumbledore stood up and approached Snape. "I can't believe that word came out of your mouth."
Professor Snape's gaze faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Believe it or not, instead of making guesses here, you might as well go to Gilderoy Lockhart and ask him. I sense the same familiar feeling from that man's shampoo."
"Gilderoy Lockhart…" Dumbledore walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out In Eastern Tibet with Slytherin. He flipped through the pages and muttered, "Perhaps we have forgotten something important…"
—
On the other side, in the Charms classroom.
The news that Moriarty had won the Most Promising Rookie Award from Transfiguration Today had spread widely.
As soon as he walked into the classroom, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students applauded.
At the podium, Professor Flitwick had to use his wand to conjure a large burst of ribbons, which both completed the celebration and quieted the classroom.
"I regret that there is no academic journal solely dedicated to Charms in the wizarding world. Otherwise, you would have certainly won an award for it," Professor Flitwick shook his head, sounding regretful. But soon, he became excited. "However, I believe, Mr. Moriarty, you will have a chance to showcase your talents soon!
Because Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to start a Dueling Club! I will be teaching first to fourth-year students dueling techniques. You'll also get the opportunity to learn some advanced spells ahead of time."
The surrounding students buzzed with enthusiasm, but Moriarty remained highly alert. The establishment of a Dueling Club was no coincidence.
Is Dumbledore trying to test me? To assess my strength?
Moriarty quickly analyzed the situation and made a decision. He stood up and said to Professor Flitwick, "Professor, I'd like to sign up."
The students were stunned for a moment before they realized it was only natural. As soon as Moriarty sat down, Jericho leaped to his feet. "I want to sign up too, Professor!"
The enthusiasm in the room ignited. Soon, every student in the class had signed up. Penelope and Lilith exchanged a look before signing up last, as if they had agreed beforehand.
Moriarty caught the glance they shared and noticed a flicker of competitiveness in their eyes.
After Lilith sat down, Moriarty turned to her with a smirk. "Since when did you and Clearwater develop such a tacit understanding?"
Lilith rolled her eyes. "You clearly want to ask why we're competing."
"Could it be that conversation on the train?" Moriarty guessed. "No, that doesn't seem like enough of a reason."
"Of course not. Though we certainly don't see eye to eye," Lilith shot him a glance. "Anyway, don't ask. Just know that I will defeat her in the Dueling Club."
"Hey, Mr. Moriarty, stop talking about girls all the time," Jericho interjected. He had just returned from Flitwick's desk and, as if afraid Moriarty would disappear again, instantly took a seat beside him. "We haven't sat and talked properly in almost two weeks! I don't even know what you're up to every day!"
Moriarty merely shook his head lightly. "Sorry, but I'll be busy for a while after class. One day, I'll tell you what I've been doing—if you want to know. But only if you're qualified."
Jericho lowered his head, his expression shifting uncertainly, but Lilith observed Moriarty with a newfound intensity in her dark eyes.
For the rest of the class, the three of them didn't speak.
—
After class, Moriarty left the castle and slowly made his way to a hill near Hagrid's hut.
The Bloody Baron was already waiting.
"Slytherin!" His voice was hoarse and sharp, almost like a whistle. "I thought you had inherited the will of the Founders and returned to guard the school!"
"Did I do something to harm the school?" Moriarty countered, his voice firm and unyielding. His eyes flashed with dissatisfaction. "Baron, I have always respected you as one of Hogwarts' oldest spirits. But you suspect me just because I inquired about the Chamber of Secrets?"
Moriarty sneered. "Do you think I'm the same as the fool who first opened the Chamber of Secrets? That's a ridiculous notion. The most absurd thing is that you tried to stop me! You will never earn Salazar's forgiveness because you never truly understood him."
At the mention of Salazar, the Baron's face contorted in pain. His thin features twisted, his beard trembled, and his spectral form wavered erratically.
"What exactly are you trying to do?" the Baron growled in a strained voice.
Moriarty met his gaze steadily. "That's exactly what I want to ask you. What are you trying to do?"
A struggle played across the Baron's face before he finally sighed. "One day, in December 1987, the Quill of Acceptance wrote your name in the Book of Admittance. From that moment, the castle began to change in strange ways…"
The Baron turned his gaze toward Hogwarts, and for the first time, his eyes softened.
Moriarty tensed and tightened his grip on the Slytherin staff. He had a strong feeling that what the Baron was about to reveal was tied to the Hogwarts Riot and the Moonless Night.
Sure enough, the Baron continued, "You may have heard rumors from the newspapers. The students called the event the 'Hogwarts Riot.' But in truth, that was misinformation. There has never been a riot at Hogwarts."
"I agree with you on that point."
The Baron hummed, his gaze on Moriarty growing gentler. "Still, though it wasn't a riot, chaos did occur…"