Chapter 52: Another Attack

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While she was searching for clues about the heir, her detentions continued.

Amidst all the suspicions, Snape's attitude toward her remained as sarcastic as ever:

"Perhaps Miss Yu believes skipping classes will stop her classmates' gossip."

"Or has your brain, stuffed with Dryncorpse, become too frightened to function?"

Jane mechanically stirred the potion, replying:

"I don't think I've—"

But Snape immediately cut her off, his voice low and angry:

"Don't think what? That you're not avoiding classes? Professors report you've missed over ten lessons."

"At this rate, you'll be expelled for truancy before the Heir of Slytherin gets expelled for attacking students."

Out of respect for the professor who had given her first authorship and 200 Galleons last year, Jane decided to attend a class or two as a courtesy.

After all, classes meant nothing to her now—why would someone planning to drop out care about learning new spells?

But as she climbed the stairs and turned into another corridor, she felt herself trip over something.

"Merlin—" she let out a small gasp.

A Hufflepuff student lay on the ground, cold and rigid, his face frozen in extreme terror, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Beside him floated a ghost—Nearly Headless Nick, who had recently promised to clear her name!

He hung suspended in the air, pitch-black and wreathed in smoke, wearing the same expression of terror.

Jane quickly considered why the heir would attack both a student and a ghost.

Perhaps Nick had discovered something, leading to this fate.

But suddenly a door burst open with a "BANG!" and Peeves shot out, giggling and doing a somersault in front of Jane:

"What's Miss Yu doing—"

He froze, seeing the petrified student and ghost. He stared at her with fear and disbelief, then started screaming:

"ATTACK! ATTACK! Even the Heir of Slytherin's ghost friend isn't safe!"

Doors along the corridor began opening one by one as students poured out. Professors shouted orders for everyone to return to their seats. Students recognized the petrified Hufflepuff as Justin Finch-Fletchley and began screaming:

"It's Justin! She attacked Justin!"

"She and Potter have the same target! They're working together!"

Almost immediately, someone notified Snape, who arrived with billowing robes, his expression dark and brows furrowed, practically forcing words through his clenched teeth:

"Foolish girl! I suppose you've been wandering the castle again, haven't you?"

Snape dragged her upstairs, up the spiral staircase, to what had become like her backyard—the headmaster's office.

The day had finally come!

With both witness testimony and physical evidence!

With such overwhelming proof, surely Dumbledore would have to expel her!

She was so excited she didn't know what to do with her hands, trembling with anticipation.

Snape glanced at her, his mouth twitching slightly as he drawled:

"This matter... is beyond my control now—"

He somewhat roughly handed Jane a bag of Galleons, telling her it was payment for processing potion ingredients this term.

Then he turned and left, his black robes disappearing through the office door.

Jane understood.

It seemed Professor Snape also believed Dumbledore would expel her to appease the angry masses.

And he'd even given her a bag of Galleons before she left—how nice of him!

Perfect for funding her London shop!

Her mind was already full of pleasant fantasies about her future life.

After standing for a while, Dumbledore hadn't returned.

Her feet were getting numb, and she was starting to feel drowsy.

Looking at the massive desk, she thought she could take a quick nap on it.

So she climbed up and stretched out—her foot seemed to kick something!

"Ouch!"

With a "CRASH!", a shelf fell over, and something underneath let out a shriek.

"You again—" the wrinkled, tawny thing began shouting angrily, "Polluting my thoughts wasn't enough, now you're trying to murder me—Azkaban! Azkaban!"

It continued writhing, yelling at Jane:

"I tell you, your plot won't succeed, I'm Godric's favorite hat!"

Now Jane realized what she'd kicked—it was the Sorting Hat that had nearly sorted her into Azkaban!

She only wanted to drop out, but this ill-intentioned hat wanted to send her to prison!

What a vicious hat!

As old grudges mixed with new anger, she leaped off the desk and pinched the dirty hat's tip between two fingers, about to cast a Cutting Curse when she heard a strange choking sound behind her.

Both she and the hat turned to look, finding that the phoenix—Fawkes had lost all his feathers, exposing raw skin, and had shrunk to a third of his original size. He looked terribly ill, staring at her with a sorrowful gaze, seemingly trying but failing to make a sound.

Suddenly, his whole body burst into flames, screaming as he became a fireball.

"Is this bird suicidal?"

Jane was shocked—she'd never imagined a bird would try to kill itself by self-immolation.

She quickly considered fire-fighting strategies: cooling, suffocation, isolation, chemical suppression...

Then she realized she was still holding the Sorting Hat.

The next second, she forcefully jammed the hat onto Fawkes's head!

This was her go-to method for kitchen oil fires in her previous life—put a lid on it!

Now not only was Fawkes screaming, but the Sorting Hat joined in with piercing shrieks:

"Murder! Hat murder! Help!"

The portraits on the walls were all awakened by these sharp cries, and when they saw a student mishandling the Sorting Hat, they angrily exclaimed:

"What are you doing? Release that hat!"

"Breaking into the headmaster's office, stealing the Sorting Hat—must be expelled! Expelled!"

Jane gripped the hat's brim tightly, preventing any oxygen from entering. The hat's surface kept moving as Fawkes struggled inside—his movements gradually weakened until the flames died out.

Jane opened the foaming, barely conscious hat's brim and dumped Fawkes onto the desk, finding him unconscious.

She touched the phoenix and found that although he was black and scorching hot, he was still breathing—alive!

She secretly congratulated herself.

But along with the phoenix fell a sword, its hilt set with a ruby.

"Godric Gryffindor?"

Jane curiously picked up the sword, reading the small text on the blade.

The previously chaotic portraits fell eerily silent at the sight of the sword.

"Stop!"

She turned to see the office door open.

Dumbledore entered, and for the first time, she saw him looking so anxious and grave.

Only Merlin knew how much Dumbledore wanted to faint on the spot!

He'd only been gone for about ten minutes, and his office had become complete chaos!

Shelves and books lay scattered on the floor, a scorched Fawkes lay feet-up on the desk, the Sorting Hat was burned black and barely conscious...

His hands shook with anger as he pressed his chest, his temples throbbing, feeling he needed some Quick-Acting Heart-Restoration Potion.

Why had he left this troublemaker alone in his office!

He deeply regretted his decision.

Quickly passing by Jane, he cast spells to check on the Sorting Hat and Fawkes, finally sighing in relief when he found they were only unconscious despite their pitiful state.

"What did you—the Sword of Gryffindor?!"

Dumbledore's expression changed instantly, cycling through surprise, joy, and wariness... like someone had spilled a paint palette across his face.

After nearly a minute, he forced himself to appear calm, though his slightly trembling hands betrayed his agitation:

"We need to talk, child."