"Headmaster Phineas Black, I need your help!" Jon whispered softly to the portrait before him.
The lavishly decorated frame remained completely empty.
Jon drew his wand and lightly poked the blank canvas inside the frame. "Phineas… Phineas Nigellus… please!"
"'Please' is a word that always works!" The sharp, unmistakable voice of Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black rang out from within the portrait.
His head slid into view, those sly black eyes glancing at Jon with a smug look. "You say you need my help… so what is it?"
Jon suddenly understood why, when dealing with Headmaster Phineas Black, the other Headmasters' portraits preferred deeds over words.
Suppressing his irritation, he carefully recounted the devastating destruction caused by the Death Eaters and the Giants in Lancashire and Cheshire just hours earlier.
Throughout the entire explanation, Phineas appeared distracted, even closing his eyes as if he had fallen asleep… but Jon knew he was listening closely.
"That Riddle boy… what exactly is he trying to do?" Headmaster Phineas Black lifted his head in surprise after Jon finished, muttering to himself.
"It's possible…" Jon hesitated briefly before voicing his earlier suspicion.
"You mean… he deliberately released the Giants?" Phineas Black seemed taken aback, shaking his head in disbelief. "To draw you out and lure you into a trap?"
"I just think… there's a possibility," Jon said quietly, lips pressed together. "Of course, it's only speculation."
"Then who else knows about the Giants?" Phineas Black frowned, his voice turning low. "Besides Dumbledore…"
"Mrs. Greengrass knows," Jon replied thoughtfully. "But she only learned after the Giant attack, and she's absolutely trustworthy. And then there are the other Headmaster portraits…"
"We would never betray you," Phineas Black said firmly. "Our duty and responsibility is to assist every Headmaster of Hogwarts. Betrayal is impossible."
"All right, I'm sorry," Jon apologized quickly. "There are also two half-Giants… Madame Olympe Maxime, Headmistress of Beauxbatons Wizarding School, and Professor Rubeus Hagrid—Hogwarts' Keeper of Keys, Groundskeeper, and Care of Magical Creatures professor."
"The Headmistress of Beauxbatons?" Phineas Black said with open disdain. It was clear he held little regard for that "rival school." "Frankly speaking, she's highly suspicious. Why would she help you for no reason?"
Jon frowned as well. If he remembered correctly, the information about Giants possessing a precise method of separating souls had come directly from Madame Maxime.
Several months ago, both vampires and werewolves had perished in the Black Forest east of Dracula's castle… Tom Riddle had passed through that same path. If, as Horace Slughorn claimed, Riddle knew that Jon Hart and Christopher Patrick were the same person, then he might easily guess that Jon was preparing to create a Horcrux.
In that case, Madame Maxime's revelation truly was suspicious.
Just as Jon was deep in thought—
"This is dreadful news… damn it. I need to return to Hogwarts immediately. I hope Dumbledore is still in the Headmaster's Office—maybe I can still discuss this with him," Phineas Black said irritably.
Just as he was about to leave the portrait, Jon lightly tapped the frame with his wand to stop him.
Lowering his voice, he whispered to the former Headmaster in the portrait, "Headmaster Black… actually, there may still be another way…"
...
Once Phineas Black departed, the basement returned to silence.
After hearing a few coughs outside the door, Jon suddenly remembered that Mrs. Greengrass and the House-elf Hod were still waiting.
He hurried over and opened the door—
The mistress of Greengrass Manor and the House-elf butler stepped inside.
"Who were you speaking with just now, Mr. Hart?" Hod asked curiously.
A trace of hesitation appeared on Jon's face. Diana Greengrass gave her House-elf a subtle look, then smiled and shook her head gently at Jon.
"Is something wrong?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern.
"Nothing," Jon replied simply. "Just some unnecessary worries. It's already resolved."
He didn't tell Mrs. Greengrass the full truth. First, he didn't believe she could offer much help in this matter. Second, he worried that involving more people would increase the risk of leaks. Finally, he didn't want to burden the Greengrass family with additional concerns.
Mrs. Greengrass gave Jon a meaningful look, but said nothing.
"Ahem… Madam, could you tell me more about the details of this attack?" Jon asked seriously.
"Of course." Mrs. Greengrass nodded, her expression equally grave, and began to explain:
"…Amelia has already reached contact and an understanding with the Muggle Prime Minister. This incident has been classified as the 'West Coast Hurricane'—at least, that's how it will be reported in the Muggle news."
"…At the same time, hundreds of personnel from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have been deployed overnight. They'll erase the memories of everyone involved, making them believe that the destruction and injuries were caused by a hurricane. The scene itself will also be 'adjusted' to better fit the hurricane narrative."
"…The Aurors will be deployed tomorrow morning. They'll rendezvous with the temporary members of the Misinformation Office, then track and hunt the Giants based on the traces they left behind. Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, will personally lead the operation."
Jon listened carefully, while quietly making his decision.
This concerned Astoria's life or death. Whether it was a coincidence or a conspiracy, he couldn't afford to ignore the trail left by the Giants.
If it was merely a coincidence, so much the better. But if it truly was a trap aimed at him… then even if it was a dragon's lair or a tiger's den, he would still have to walk straight into it.
"Madam," Jon asked softly, "may I ask… were the temporary members of the Misinformation Office participating in the 'Giant Hunt Operation' all selected by you?"
Although the Misinformation Office wasn't a permanent department, it still fell under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—and thus under Diana Greengrass's authority.
Mrs. Greengrass nodded. "Of course. I finalized the list during the meeting."
"That's fine," Jon said, shaking his head. "May I take a look at it?"
Mrs. Greengrass nodded without hesitation and took out a piece of parchment from her coat pocket. Written neatly upon it were a dozen names.
Jon lowered his head and examined each one carefully.
"It's already very late, Jon," Mrs. Greengrass reminded him softly. "Shouldn't this wait until tomorrow?"
"No. I'm afraid we need to prepare tonight," Jon said gravely. He gestured for Mrs. Greengrass to come closer.
Then he leaned toward her ear and quietly laid out his entire plan.
"Good heavens… have you gone mad?" Diana Greengrass stared at him in shock after hearing it. "You're planning to disguise yourself as—"
She quickly caught herself and didn't finish the sentence.
"Of course," Jon nodded. He picked up his suitcase and said solemnly, "I'm sorry for disturbing you tonight, Madam… but I believe it's time for me to leave."