Noticing that Harry and Ron were looking at him, Evan had no choice but to pull his attention away from the parchment in his hand.

“Those curse marks are undoubtedly traces left by a powerful spell,” he paused, searching for a more precise description, “a kind of proof. Hmm… of course, it could also be related to a magical weapon.”

In fact, he was also a little puzzled. What on earth was Dumbledore doing?

The markings could be the backlash of a spell, or they could have been deliberately imprinted.

Without knowing the specifics, Evan couldn’t analyze what kind of magic it was or determine what Dumbledore was working on.

What was certain, however, was that those marks were connected to Gaunt’s ring.

In other words, they were related to fifteen-year-old Riddle.

Beyond that, everything was speculation. Perhaps those markings were a magic seal.

The spell sealed powerful forces, magic or dangerous creatures. This was a form of forbidden Dark Magic that modified one’s own body. Voldemort had used it in the past, absorbing the power of sealed magic items or creatures to enhance his own strength.

Given that Dumbledore would never intentionally use such a method to enhance his power, it was more likely that the energy within the seal could only be unleashed when the seal was broken — and at that moment, it would erupt with devastating force…

“This is indeed suspicious, isn’t it?” Ron continued his rambling analysis. “Dumbledore is often away from the castle this term. In my opinion, he must have been secretly making a weapon. A powerful magical weapon that can easily kill Voldemort and that terrible monster of his.”

There was another brief silence, and Evan sighed and said, “Ron, there is no such weapon.”

“Even if it’s magic from ancient times, is it still impossible? For example, the Philosopher’s Stone! You said before that ancient sorcerers used it as a power source for great magic. What if someone made a weapon powered by the Philosopher’s Stone? And what about the secret treasure left by the Four Founders of Hogwarts? What’s in it? Could it possibly be a weapon as well?”

Well… now that things were getting into such profound territory, Evan truly had no answer.

This was not something he understood, so he should just study the magic of summoning demons.

“I don’t think Dumbledore would do that,” said Harry.

“Hard to say. Dumbledore is a much more powerful wizard than us,” said Ron. “By the way, are you going to tell Dumbledore what you heard Snape and Malfoy saying to each other?”

“Of course I’m going to tell anyone who can put a stop to it,” said Harry immediately, “and Dumbledore’s top of the list, then Sirius. Hmm… I might have another word with your dad too.”

“Just don’t put it in a letter.”

“I know!” said Harry.

“Well, if you ask me, whether it’s Dumbledore or my dad or anyone else, they’ll all say Snape isn’t really trying to help Malfoy, he was just trying to find out what Malfoy’s up to,” said Ron. “Probably the only exception is Sirius, but that’s just because he’s always had a grudge against Snape.”

“Hmph! They didn’t hear him,” said Harry flatly. “No one’s that good an actor, not even Snape. He was sent by Voldemort, and he put on an act to fool Dumbledore.”

Alright, the topic had once again shifted to doubting Snape — a daily occurrence at this point.

Evan tried to focus on reading another passage from the parchment, while Harry and Ron continued their game of wizard chess.

More than half an hour later, Hermione and Elaine came down the stairs rubbing their eyes.

Because it was a holiday and there was no news from Dumbledore yet, everyone was a little lazy.

Snow was drifting past the window outside.

The topic returned to the conversation between Snape and Malfoy last night, and Hermione refuted Ron’s arguments one by one.

Ron’s face was getting redder and redder. If this continued, the fragile friendship that had just been restored between the two of them might end at any time.

Just then, there was a soft popping sound, and Dobby the house-elf appeared out of thin air in front of them.

Bowing so low that his long nose nearly touched the floor, he greeted them.

“Dobby!”

“What are you doing up here?”

“Master Evan, Harry Potter, Miss Granger,” Dobby said in a high-pitched, excited voice, his large green eyes wide with emotion, “Professor Dumbledore sent Dobby up to inform you that he is waiting for you in the kitchens.”

“Dumbledore’s back, he’s in the kitchens?”

“Yes, he is waiting for you down there.”

Evan didn’t expect Dumbledore to act so quickly. It was only the first day of the holidays.

Hardly had the students left Hogwarts when they started to act.

A mix of excitement and nervous anticipation filled the group as they left the Gryffindor common room.

Along the way, Hermione asked Dobby about the recent treatment of the house-elves in the kitchens, and also told him about the house-elves working for Fred and George, hoping that this would set a good example.

“Dobby knows about this. Many elves have been talking about it recently. They say it is something done out of necessity.”

“That’s not bad, at least they’re not outright opposing it, right? I thought they would see it as a disgrace. But ‘necessity’?” Hermione said, seeming to be in a good mood. “So, in a way, they’re actually accepting it? Those stubborn ones are starting to come around to the idea of employment and wages?”

“Not wages, Miss!” Dobby shook his head firmly. “House-elves do not need wages.”

“But Fred and George are paying the two hundred elves working for them.”

“They think that’s, that’s…” Dobby seemed to not know what to say, and he seemed a little anxious and explained incoherently, “They work there to survive. They have no choice. They only need to work and get the most basic food — not wages.”

Well, Evan could probably understand what Dobby meant.

At Hermione’s request, Fred and George now tried to improve the food of the house-elves working for them, but had not yet succeeded in giving them money or holidays. This really couldn’t be considered as wages, but just a better treatment of “slaves”.

“Dobby, what do you think about this?” Hermione asked.

“Dobby thinks they are not free house-elves, and it is wrong for them to do this, but, but…”

“Oh, come on, you can’t bring up that whole ‘spew’ thing every time you see a house-elf,” Ron couldn’t help but say. “You’re making them nervous. Besides, we’re about to summon a demon, a real demon! I couldn’t sleep for days after hearing about it, and here you are, worrying about house-elf treatment?”

“It’s not ‘spew’, it’s the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. The five of us are all members of this organization,” said Hermione angrily. “Of course I’m nervous now. Who wouldn’t be nervous when facing a demon? But this is not a reason for us to ignore the protection of the rights of house-elves.”

This was probably Hermione’s way of relieving stress, but she had indeed done a lot for the house-elves over the years. It was a thankless job, and it was difficult to get the understanding of the wizards and even the house-elves themselves, but Hermione persisted. If there was an award for eliminating unfair discrimination and promoting racial equality, it should be given to her.

Whether or not one could understand it was one thing, but on this matter, Evan felt that Hermione was really amazing.

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