Harry Potter: Glory Bows to Me

After Rita Skeeter left, it seemed as if she had taken some of the noise from the auditorium with her.

The atmosphere remained lively, but a sense of weariness, typical of students before a morning class, was beginning to emerge.

Students packed their bags one after another, yawning and still feeling the lingering fatigue and excitement from last night's celebration, dragging their feet towards their respective classrooms. The groups of students resembled a loose flock of ravens, flying towards the battlefield where they would soon face roll call and paper review.

Amanta stood up behind a group of students who were yawning.

She glanced down at the Philosopher's Ring on her wrist, examining the textbooks, parchment, ink, and quill pen that lay quietly inside.

Everything she needed was there, and the sense of reassurance that she was prepared breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fortunately, the first class is herbalism," she thought. "Professor Sprout has always been a kind person... I hope she's in a good mood today."

She looked up, just as she was about to pull Harry, who was sitting across the table looking equally sleepy, up, when she heard a gentle voice behind her:

"Please wait, Miss Merlin."

Amanta paused for a moment, then immediately recognized the owner of the voice.

She turned around and saw Dumbledore standing there.

Dumbledore was still wearing his crescent-shaped spectacles, his gaze deep and unfathomable, as if he could see right through her thoughts. He wasn't wearing his magnificent star-and-moon robe today, but rather a simple grey robe.

"Could you please come to the Headmaster's office?" Dumbledore said gently. "Don't worry, I will speak with Pomona myself so you don't have to worry about being late."

Amanta nodded, though many questions arose in her mind, she did not show them.

She turned to look at Harry and Draco.

Harry hesitated, while Draco frowned. She gestured to them that she was fine, and only then did she manage to persuade them to leave.

"Don't worry," she whispered.

Then she turned and followed Dumbledore, leaving the Great Hall, which was gradually quieting down.

They walked through a long corridor filled with portraits. Most of the wizards and witches in the portraits were still asleep, but a few opened their eyes and cast curious glances at their whereabouts.

Footsteps echoed on the stone pavement, their rhythm steady, yet Amanta felt her heart beat slightly faster.

What was the principal trying to say? Was it about the competition? Or... the crown?

Her mind raced, conjuring up images of what had happened underwater the day before.

She didn't know exactly how Julius got the crown from Snape, but in any case, he got it and even gave it to the mermaid in yesterday's match.

She wasn't sure if the judges had noticed these details, but she was almost certain that Dumbledore wouldn't turn a blind eye to such things.

A crown must be one of the items he cares about most.

She unconsciously clenched her sleeve. Her steps didn't slow down, but her heart was already churning with turmoil.

A short while later, they stopped in front of the familiar statue.

Dumbledore whispered a command that sounded like the name of some kind of candy—"Lemon Bubble Gum".

The statue rotates, revealing a spiral staircase leading upwards.

Amanta silently stepped forward, circling again and again, until she finally arrived at the familiar circular rooftop.

The furnishings in the principal's office were almost exactly the same as when she last visited.

The magical instruments in the cabinet emitted a faint hum, the shelves were piled with yellowed ancient books, and orange flames burned in the fireplace.

On the high shelf behind the desk, the phoenix Fox was lazily nestled, its wings somewhat sparse, looking listless, and it didn't even raise its eyes when they came in.

Amanta stood at the doorway, gazing at the crimson feather in a daze for a while.

"It's just getting old and has been a bit tired lately, so there's no need to worry."

Dumbledore's gentle voice sounded from beside her, and Amanta realized that she had been staring at Fawkes for far too long.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster." She quickly looked away, apologizing for her rudeness. Then, after a slight pause, she tentatively asked, "Headmaster Dumbledore, is there something special you wanted to discuss with me today?"

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly; his blue eyes, hidden behind his half-moon spectacles, remained deep and penetrating.

“Amanta, let me ask you something,” he said gently. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Amanta was speechless for a moment. She opened her mouth, but her throat seemed to be bound by an invisible spell.

The first thing that comes to mind is a crown and a mermaid.

But she wasn't sure if she could tell anyone, or even if she should.

She took a deep breath and cautiously changed her approach to answer:

"I thought you called me here because you had something to tell me." She chose her words carefully, her voice low and clear. "You want to know about yesterday's match?"

Dumbledore slowly walked back to his chair, sat down, interlaced his fingers on the table, and spoke calmly:

“Amanta, I’ve always thought you’re a very talented child.”

He paused, then changed his tone slightly: "However, a fair competition is always more interesting, isn't it?"

Amanta frowned: "Professor, we did not use any cheating methods."

“Is that so?” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow slightly, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. “I saw Severus today. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him in such a hurry… He seemed to be looking for something important.”

Amanta's heart tightened suddenly. A thin layer of sweat appeared on her forehead.

But she couldn't appear flustered.

“If Professor Snape has lost anything…” she tried to remain calm, “we will do everything we can to find it for him.”

"Is that so?" Dumbledore blinked his clear eyes behind his glasses, a slightly teasing smile playing on his lips. "I think Severus is lucky to have such a group of thoughtful children like you."

Then he pulled a stack of parchment from a drawer on the table and handed it over: "Take a look at this."

Amanta stood up, walked over, and took the slightly crumpled stack of papers. The moment her fingers touched the paper, she sensed something was wrong.

Her gaze swept quickly over the few scraps of paper with messy handwriting, and her pupils suddenly contracted.

"Principal, what are these...?"

“As you can see,” Dumbledore said, raising a finger to the corner where wrinkles and scorch marks overlapped. “I found it when Filch was burning junk. Unfortunately, he doesn’t even remember where he found it.”

Amanta tried her best to suppress the unease in her heart and continued to review the contents:

They were fragments of handwriting, some like notes or letters, others like pages hastily torn from a notebook.

The content is fragmented, but the direction is surprisingly consistent:

Manipulating the outcome of the Triwizard Tournament to ensure Hogwarts' victory.

And, I offer the warriors... to my master.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She knew the title "master" all too well.

She noticed the handwriting more closely, so familiar it almost gave her goosebumps. The way certain strokes ended and the angle of slant... she remembered.

She had seen this handwriting before, in someone's casually left notes, in letters she had once read...

Amanta lowered her eyes, trying to appear calm and composed.

Dumbledore scrutinized her expression.

"Do you know who wrote this?" Dumbledore asked.

Amanta shook her head, her voice calm and steady: "No, Headmaster. I'm not sure."

She certainly dared not make any rash judgments. If she pointed to the wrong person, the consequences would be unimaginable; if she pointed to the right person… she would still need time to confirm the truth.

"Are you still determined to continue participating in the competition?" Dumbledore didn't press the issue, but instead changed the subject, asking casually, "If you decide to withdraw, I will handle the follow-up matters for you."

Amanta looked up and answered without hesitation, "Of course, continue."

She did not hesitate at all.

This is her chance to prove herself alongside Harry, Draco, Julius, and their group.

They were already tired of the stigma surrounding Slytherin, and she never stopped resisting being labeled as the "successor of the Dark Lord."

“Moreover, if they have already infiltrated the area,” she continued, “then even if we choose to withdraw, the subsequent plans will not stop.”

"Now that we know this, we should prepare early and deal with it in advance."

Dumbledore looked at her, his expression finally relaxing a little.

“A very good judgment.” He nodded. “You can tell your companions about this. The sooner they are alert, the better.”

"I will secretly arrange some people to provide assistance if necessary. Hopefully, you won't need to use them."

Amanta nodded gently: "I understand."

Dumbledore waved to her, indicating that she could leave.

She walked to the door and reached out to grasp the doorknob when Fox suddenly shook her feathers and let out a low chirp.

She couldn't help but glance back at the sleepy phoenix, Fox.

The red and gold phoenix finally raised its head, tilted its neck, and seemed to be staring at her.

“It seems it considers you a young man worth observing,” Dumbledore said.

She let out a soft breath, feeling the tension in her back finally ease a little.

"You should go to class, Miss Merlin."

She stood up and nodded to him.

"Thank you, Principal."

Dumbledore said nothing more, but simply watched her push open the door and leave.