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When Tonks heard "Nymphadora," she suddenly froze, blinking rapidly, her hands flying to her mouth as she sucked in a sharp breath. "Merlin's beard… how could I? Oh no, I forgot this is a school! I—I've become a murderer! No!"
Tonks seemed to comprehend the gravity of her actions and collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her hands.
Professor McGonagall wavered slightly, visibly shaken. Hogwarts' owlery had suffered an unprecedented catastrophe—one not seen in over a thousand years. And yet, even that was incomparable to the psychological trauma inflicted on Hufflepuff's students.
The professors watched in heavy silence as Tonks and the other culprits appeared to come to terms with the magnitude of their mistake, heads bowed.
"It appears they're calm now. To prevent..." Snape's voice was barely above a whisper, audible only to the surrounding professors and Moriarty. The corners of his mouth twitched as he concluded, "To prevent further incidents of this nature, I recommend administering a demulcent."
From beneath his robes, Professor Snape retrieved a crystal bottle filled with an iridescent liquid.
Moriarty turned, accepting the bottle with a nod and said softly, "Accio goblet."
A silver goblet flew into his hand. Uncorking the bottle, Moriarty poured a generous measure of the soothing potion. Then, approaching Tonks, he crouched beside her and gently patted her shoulder.
"Nymph, it's alright. The school governors invest heavily in Hogwarts every year. In fact, this year and the next few years, the budget will be doubled. I'll request a fresh batch of owls to be brought in immediately."
"Really, Moriarty?" Tonks looked up at him, eyes rimmed red. Moriarty nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, I promise."
His calm demeanor reassured her. Slowly, Tonks stood, and Moriarty handed her the goblet. "This is a demulcent. Drink it. You'll rest easier after this."
She accepted the goblet, peered inside, then threw back the contents in one gulp. Her face scrunched in distaste. "Tastes awful."
Now that her emotions had settled, the absurdity of her actions hit her like a wave. "Moriarty… what do I do? I turned the academy's symbol into braised lion head! I killed over a hundred owls! The students of the other three houses must loathe me and Hufflepuff. How could I have done something so foolish?"
Shaking her head, she tugged at her hair—now jet black from stress. Moriarty feared she'd soon tear it all out.
"Stop, Nymph!" Moriarty caught her wrists, her skin cold and clammy. Not natural coldness—but something else. He gently drew her arms away from her head. "It's not beyond repair. There's still time. You can fix this."
"Really? Will Headmaster Dumbledore expel me?" she asked quietly, her gaze drifting over Moriarty's shoulder to the group of professors tending to the traumatized Hufflepuffs.
Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were gently comforting the students, administering potions and soft-spoken words of reassurance.
Except for Diana.
The Elven professor leaned against the wall, her posture elegant and aloof, watching the chaos of the kitchen with a smirk.
Tonks avoided looking at Diana, and Moriarty said softly, "Think about how it started. You only wanted to cook a meal. How did it spiral into this mess, targeting three Houses? That's the key."
"I don't remember! It just… happened!" Tonks's voice rose, panic flaring in her expression. "I swear I'm not lying!"
"I believe you, Nymph. I do." Moriarty nodded, closing his eyes as he exhaled slowly. "No one's lying. But these events… one after another… Something's wrong in this castle."
He turned his gaze to Dumbledore and Diana. "If either of you know something, you must tell me. This is not a request. This is a demand from Slytherin's heir."
His cold, unwavering eyes left no room for jest.
Three disturbances had occurred in Hogwarts within two days, beginning with Keith's provocation toward Snape. Whatever was happening, it was affecting the students mentally and emotionally. That much was certain.
Dumbledore straightened, his expression unreadable. "Come with me."
He instructed the Heads of House to escort the Hufflepuff students back to their dormitory. With a final glance at Moriarty, Dumbledore turned and exited the kitchen.
Moriarty bid Tonks goodbye and followed, with Diana bringing up the rear. Together, the trio walked the long corridor leading to the Headmaster's office.
Once inside, Dumbledore conjured two armchairs before his desk—high-backed and soft.
"I've looked forward to our next conversation," Dumbledore said, his voice warm. "Ever since we shared cockroach clusters. I've brought toffee this time."
He tapped the desk gently, and a silver tray materialized, filled with neatly wrapped candies.
Moriarty picked one up, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "If you're eating sweets, then it means the situation isn't completely dire… or not yet."
"I trust my students." Dumbledore answered vaguely. He picked a candy himself and smiled as he chewed—but then frowned. "Oh no. Grapefruit. Never again."
Moriarty smirked and picked the same, letting the tangy bitterness seep in slowly. "You mentioned the Headless Horseman?"
"Yes. Do you remember the day your name appeared in the Book of Admittance and Pen of Acceptance? That same day, there was a grand celebration in the castle—and a secret."
Dumbledore's expression turned serious. "The Headless Horseman appeared then, but not publicly. It slipped into the Merlin mural. Only one student noticed."
"Who?" Moriarty asked, though he suspected the answer.
"You'll know." Dumbledore reached for another toffee. "By the way, I truly regret the grapefruit ones."
"Was it Bill Weasley?" Moriarty guessed, watching Dumbledore's reaction closely.
The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Indeed. You're smarter than I expected."
Moriarty nodded. That would explain Bill's absence from Hogwarts last year. Dumbledore had dispatched him on a confidential mission—tracking vampires across Europe.
"What did the Horseman say to Bill?"
"It made a prophecy," Dumbledore said softly. "At the time, Bill thought it was a prank, just the ghost playing tricks. But… the Horseman's words are proving accurate."
He folded his hands atop his desk, his voice lowering.
"The Headless Horseman told Bill that the lakeside of Avalon would suffer a vampire scourge. The elves living there would fall to madness—plagued with apathy, nihilism, even violence. They would turn against each other until none remained.
Bill, being meticulous and dependable, reported it to me immediately. I went to verify the claim… with the High Priestess of the Elves."
Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Diana.
She tilted her head at Moriarty, but there was no humor in her expression. Her emerald eyes gleamed coldly.
"After Dumbledore alerted me, I began observing my people closely," she said. "And to my sorrow, the prophecy was true. My kin began succumbing to despair. Some stared blankly into nothingness, while others turned their arrows on friends.
They were dying—not physically, but spiritually. Waiting to die."
She looked at Moriarty. "That's why I came to Hogwarts. I hoped to trace the curse to its origin. But now, something similar is unfolding here."
She glanced at Dumbledore again. "I warned you: act early. Today the students are listless, tomorrow they're lost forever."
Dumbledore's brows furrowed. "I won't call this a disaster. Not yet. But I agree—we must uncover the truth."
"The Horseman told Bill the vampires caused the elves' affliction," he continued. "So I sent Bill to Europe to track them. He's been gone all year."
"Any progress?" Diana asked coldly.
Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed. Tracking the vampire clans revealed many things. But the real breakthrough came when we discovered someone else was investigating them too."
"Who?" Diana asked sharply.
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