Dumbledore exited the room, striding purposefully toward the third floor where the Defense Against the Dark Arts office was located.
Instead of returning to the Ravenclaw common room, William slipped to the back of the crowd, blending in like an onlooker.
The professors were preoccupied, none noticing him.
Outside Professor Tywin's office, a group of professors had already gathered. Professor McGonagall stood at the outer edge, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
It was the first time William had seen her cry.
Snape wore a deep frown, looking both bewildered… and perhaps even a little worried.
Everyone stood in silence as Dumbledore stepped swiftly inside. At the sight before him, even his eyes widened slightly.
Through the gap in the doorway, William caught a glimpse inside.
The office was meticulously neat, as if nothing were wrong… except in one corner, where a small restroom door stood wide open.
Inside, Professor Tywin sat slumped on the toilet, head lowered, his robes tattered and stained with dried blood. A long, gruesome wound marked his chest—the fatal blow, it seemed.
Worst of all were his legs. Through the torn fabric, bite marks were visible, vicious and horrifying to look at.
Professor Tywin was dead.
He'd died in his own office bathroom.
Dumbledore approached, resting his hand gently on Tywin's chest, feeling the remnants of Dark Magic.
Snape leaned in, examining the wound, pointing it out to Dumbledore and murmuring something. Dumbledore only shook his head slightly.
William couldn't make out their conversation; his gaze was locked on the terrifying bite marks.
His face turned pale.
Those bites were the unmistakable marks of a large magical creature. William could only think of one in Hogwarts—the three-headed dog, Fluffy.
Suppressing a wave of nausea, he watched a moment longer, then slipped out of the room.
Professor Flitwick spotted him and followed him outside.
In his office, Professor Flitwick pulled a bar of chocolate from a drawer.
Handing it to William, he said gently, "Take it, child. You might need it to calm your nerves after witnessing such a sight."
William took it, biting off a large piece to steady himself.
Professor Flitwick choked up.
"Poor Robert… he was just months away from graduation.
"And Professor Tywin, too… he'd told me just a few days ago that he planned to resign after this year…"
William said nothing. He didn't know how Robert had died, but the shredded state of Tywin's legs left no doubt.
Could it have been Fluffy?
If Professor Tywin had unknowingly entered the Room of Requirement and encountered Fluffy, it was entirely possible.
And if Fluffy's illegal owner, Hagrid, were found responsible…
Munching the chocolate thoughtfully, William eventually asked, "Professor, what will happen if they catch the culprit?"
Professor Flitwick sighed, "They'll be sent to Azkaban, of course. The severity of this crime means it'll likely be a life sentence."
Though it was April, William felt as though he'd plunged into winter's chill.
"What's wrong, William?" Professor Flitwick noticed, pulling out another large bar of chocolate.
"If this isn't enough, I have more here. It'll help you feel better."
"It's nothing, Professor. I just…" William trailed off, unsure of what to say.
At that moment, another commotion erupted in the corridor.
William recognized the voice of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.
With such a tragedy happening at Hogwarts, Dumbledore naturally had to notify the Ministry.
Through the window, William saw the castle courtyard filling with Aurors.
Professor Flitwick sighed heavily, clearly uneasy. "If they can't find the culprit, the school may be forced to close. Fifty years ago, a student's death nearly led to closure.
"Today, we've lost both a student and a professor…"
William wasn't sure how he left Flitwick's office. His mind buzzed as he drifted through the corridors. He thought of going to see Cedric, but the Hufflepuff common room was likely under lockdown.
He wandered the hallways in circles, torn about what to do next. He wanted to speak with Hagrid but held back, sitting instead at the foot of the stairs, grappling with his thoughts.
He couldn't bear the thought of Hagrid going to Azkaban, yet if Professor Tywin had indeed died by Fluffy's fangs… what should he do?
After what felt like hours, William found himself on the eighth floor.
After three circuits around, the door to the Room of Requirement appeared, and he slipped inside.
Following the trail of dried blood on the floor, he found Fluffy in a corner, licking its paws.
Its paws were singed, with a fresh gash on one.
Any last sliver of hope willam had vanished.
It was clear that Professor Tywin had somehow wandered into the Room of Requirement. Not recognizing him, Fluffy had attacked.
But wait… how had Professor Tywin entered the Room of Requirement?
A glint of understanding flickered in William's green eyes as he realized something was amiss.
He'd overlooked something important!
Circling Fluffy, William replayed the entire sequence of events in his mind.
Typically, if someone were using the Room of Requirement, no one else could enter—unless the new person's intent matched the user's.
For instance, if William were inside using the room to hide something, the only way for someone else to enter would be for them to also need a place to hide something.
Which meant… if Fluffy had been inside, Professor Tywin could only have entered if he, too, needed to hide something.
But what could Professor Tywin, a Hogwarts professor, need to hide here in the Room of Requirement?
William glanced around, but with so much junk cluttering the room, he couldn't tell what, if anything, belonged to Professor Tywin.
He sighed, as Fluffy lay down, panting and trying to nuzzle his leg.
The three-headed dog's injuries were minor, thanks to its strong recovery ability. Mostly, it just looked hungry!
"All you ever think about is food. One day, it'll be the death of you!" William muttered, giving a light kick to Fluffy's middle head to push it away.
Ding!
A soft clink echoed as something metallic fell from Fluffy's mouth and bounced across the floor, landing among a pile of junk.
William frowned, tracing the sound, then quickly sifted through the rubbish and picked up the object.
It was a bronze ring, shaped like an eagle, with a vintage design and a cool, almost watery feel in his hand.
Inside the ring's band was an inscription:
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."
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