An utterly drained Dumbledore finally returned to his office after dealing with the drooling stone gargoyles.
He consulted a few former headmasters in the portraits; they had heard some noises last night, but things later quieted down and no one came looking for Dumbledore, so they hadn't paid it much mind.
What in the world happened?
Dumbledore pulled out "WhatsApp" and sent a message to Tom, but after waiting for quite a while, still received no reply.
This thing was convenient, yes, but Dumbledore felt it needed more features.
For example: an emergency-contact mode that would force the recipient to notice the message immediately, or a confirmation system that would tell him whether the other person had actually read it.
Just sitting there and waiting in silence was pure torment.
At the end of the day, Dumbledore really was quite impatient by nature, very much a textbook Gryffindor.
He simply relied on sheer rationality and years of experience to keep that impulsiveness under control.
Fortunately, even though Tom didn't respond, Professor McGonagall arrived very quickly.
Unfortunately, the moment she appeared with a stony expression, Dumbledore's heart gave a heavy thump.
Oh no. Minerva is furious.
He hurriedly tried to recall whether he had recently done anything that might have angered her.
But after a moment of thinking… nothing.
Had some other student caused trouble and provoked her?
"Minerva, "
"Dumbledore! Why did you not tell me about something as serious as the Chamber of Secrets and the Dark wizard involved?!"
"And why, pray tell, did you insist on dragging Mr. Riddle and Mr. Potter, two students, into a dangerous situation?! What are the teachers supposed to be doing?!"
Dumbledore didn't even get to finish his sentence before McGonagall cut him off, fury blazing in her eyes.
She thought Dumbledore was brilliant in many ways…but he hid far too much, planned far too many things on his own.
And even after making all his arrangements, he never explained them clearly to anyone. No one knew what he was doing, or what he was thinking.
Dumbledore instantly understood why she was angry…
But he still had no idea what on earth had actually happened.
Fine, he could accept Tom being involved; Tom was deeply entangled in the whole matter.
But since when had Harry jumped into this too?!
The old wizard let out a weary, helpless smile, this time not a pretense. He truly felt the weight of it all.
"I returned to the school only to find the Quidditch pitch and the castle in ruins. There wasn't a soul inside the castle. I had no idea what happened last night, so I asked Wilkinson to fetch you."
"Could you please tell me what happened before you continue scolding me?"
McGonagall's expression softened slightly, but she still recounted everything that had occurred the previous night.
The castle's magical protections meant ordinary Repair Charms couldn't mend the damage. Manual repair was needed. To prevent students from wandering into the Chamber, house-elves delivered breakfast directly to their common rooms, and no one was allowed outside for the time being.
Dumbledore felt a headache forming.
He knew the Basilisk was asleep in the Chamber. As long as the diary was in hand, it was essentially harmless, that was why he hadn't interfered.
But how had Tom ended up dragging Harry into the Chamber?
And why had they even released the Basilisk?
If Tom wanted to resolve the matter, couldn't he have simply taken care of it down there?
Other people might not believe in Tom's abilities, but Dumbledore did. With that Fire-Calling Charm he gave Tom as a Christmas gift, the boy could roast the Basilisk into a holiday feast if he wished.
What exactly had happened in between?
Dumbledore wanted Tom summoned. McGonagall could only relay what she herself had seen and heard, there were surely details she hadn't been told.
But for now, calming her down was more urgent.
"Minerva, you are right, this was my mistake."
Dumbledore offered a sincere apology before continuing,
"Spreading secrets solves nothing. It only increases the risk of leaks and unnecessary panic."
"Mr. Riddle has an exceptional understanding of facing Voldemort. He discovered the diary first and informed me later. I trust that he can handle a fifth-year version of Voldemort."
"As for the Basilisk… it's ideal combat training for him. Don't look at him as an ordinary student. Geniuses must constantly break through limitations."
Dumbledore gritted his teeth and took the blame.
From McGonagall's retelling, Tom had already dumped every bit of responsibility on him. If he didn't follow through, who knew how that boy might retaliate later, and Dumbledore's old bones couldn't take that.
"Then please show me more respect in the future," McGonagall said stiffly. "If you are making dangerous decisions, as Deputy Headmistress I have the right to know."
"Next time, Minerva. I promise, next time."
Dumbledore answered with genuine earnestness.
"Repair the damaged areas as fast as possible. Once we can be sure students won't wander off, let them move around again. They can't stay locked in their rooms forever."
"And please inform Severus, I need to speak with Riddle."
"Very well."
McGonagall left.
But Dumbledore still did not see Tom.
It wasn't until the afternoon, after the damaged floors were finally patched up, that Tom returned from London. He was summoned to Dumbledore's office immediately, and the two talked for a long time.
Then they went down to the Chamber of Secrets together.
Tom didn't return to the common room until late at night.
He raised a hand to stop the little snakes, who nearly pounced on him, telling them they would understand everything tomorrow morning, then slipped straight into his dormitory tunnel.
Inside the study space, Grindelwald and Andros were still discussing Slytherin's inheritance.
The two had reached a disagreement, not because Andros disapproved of bloodline fusion.
Despite his righteous aura, he was not rigid, especially in that primeval era where raw strength was the only guarantee for survival.
What he rejected was Slytherin's method of directly modifying the human body during the process, an approach that preserved more advantages of the fused bloodline but left irreversible negative side effects when using Dark magic.
"You didn't see Slytherin's statue, did you?" Grindelwald snorted. "Ugly as a monkey."