Professor Tywin insisted on telling Dumbledore something urgent.
His persistence caught William by surprise.
Dumbledore glanced at the already ongoing Quidditch match and said, "If it's so pressing, Professor Tywin, let's discuss this in my office."
William felt a slight sense of relief. If Tywin was occupied in Dumbledore's office, he shouldn't have the opportunity to commit any crimes—at least, not for now.
But a question nagged at him. Dumbledore had originally intended to go to Ravenclaw Tower, so how could Tywin have committed the murders right under the Headmaster's nose?
The three of them returned to the third floor, and once they reached the office door, William stopped.
"I'll wait outside, Professor," he said.
Dumbledore nodded, guiding Tywin inside.
William stood by the window, watching the match unfold.
Though he had already seen this match play out yesterday, he still found himself enjoying it as if for the first time.
After some time, the stone gargoyle moved aside, and Tywin emerged, smiling with a distant look in his eyes. He glanced at William briefly before heading downstairs, presumably to watch the game.
Moments later, Dumbledore exited his office with a grave expression.
"As you can see, William, Professor Tywin hasn't stolen the knocker, nor has he attacked anyone…" he began.
Just as he spoke, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the stairwell. Professor Snape appeared, clutching his wand and covered in blood.
"Headmaster," Snape said urgently, "there's been an incident—one of the students is dead."
William's breath caught, and he gripped the ring on his index finger, his knuckles turning white.
"Who?" he demanded.
Snape, clearly unaccustomed to students addressing him this way, nevertheless replied, "Ravenclaw's prefect, Robert Hilliard."
William stood frozen, his mind spinning.
Tywin had just left Dumbledore's office. He hadn't had time to commit a murder, yet Robert was dead.
Had William miscalculated?
He dashed to the Ravenclaw common room with all the speed he could muster. He'd never run so hard in his life.
As he neared the door, William felt himself almost drifting forward, barely aware of his own movement.
Robert lay on the ground, one eye missing, the socket empty and dry. Blood had long since congealed, and there were no other signs of violence. His face was contorted in terror, as if he'd seen something horrific just before death.
Near Robert's body, the wooden door bore a large hole where the eagle-shaped knocker had once been.
William knew he still had the ring on his finger.
Dumbledore crouched, inspecting Robert's wounds.
"It's the Killing Curse, Headmaster," Snape muttered, wiping blood from his face.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied solemnly, then murmured, "But how…"
He examined Robert's empty eye socket before turning the body over. The missing eye hung from the door, hidden by Robert's body.
Dark, thick blood was splattered around it, forming strange, chaotic patterns that, on closer inspection, traced a shape pointing downward.
Dumbledore spoke, his voice low and as if addressing William.
"The Eye of Horus—this symbol is very rare today, but it has appeared many times throughout history. It was coveted and shrouded in mystery among ancient sorcerers."
Snape, puzzled, asked, "Then why would someone leave this mark? What does it signify?"
"Traditionally, Severus, it symbolizes resurrection."
"Resurrection… of what?" William asked.
Dumbledore motioned for Snape to move Robert's body, then straightened up. "For thousands of years, the Eye of Horus has carried the implication of revival.
"Simply put, it suggests the resurrection of someone of great significance—be it an ancient sorcerer, a pharaoh, an emperor… or, potentially, Voldemort."
Snape's grip on his wand tightened, his face obscured in shadow.
"Alright, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, "things may not be as dire as they seem. Take the boy's body to the hospital wing and wait for me there."
"But…"
"Whatever happened to you can wait. For now, come with me, William."
With a gentle hand on William's shoulder, Dumbledore guided him downstairs.
"Where are we going, Professor?"
William could still see the Quidditch match playing out in the distance, the noise feeling surreal and distant.
"We're going to see Professor Tywin," Dumbledore replied. "You said Robert was killed, and indeed, it has happened. So it's likely Tywin won't fare much better…"
"But I don't understand…"
"You're wondering why Robert was killed despite Tywin being in my office, correct?" Dumbledore seemed to read his thoughts.
William nodded, adding, "And just now, Professor Tywin was headed downstairs to watch the game. How could…"
Dumbledore's voice softened. "Child, this may be why you were summoned here."
"Summoned here?" William murmured, nervously touching the ring on his finger.
Dumbledore didn't elaborate further, striding purposefully ahead.
They reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, where Dumbledore drew his wand and tapped the lock, causing the door to explode open, taking half the wall with it.
William flinched slightly. He thought Dumbledore could have been a little gentler.
Dumbledore stepped through the smoke, glancing around before heading straight to the restroom.
Unlike yesterday, Tywin hadn't yet passed away, but he was close.
His chest heaved as blood dribbled from his lips, unable to utter a word.
His arms were locked stiffly on the sides of the toilet, fingers gripping the edges in a desperate attempt to hold himself up.
Tywin's pupils were unfocused, but he seemed to recognize Dumbledore.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came—only more blood spilling out.
Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on Tywin's chest, feeling the shattered ribs beneath his blood-soaked robes.
He shook his head slightly, bending over the dying man.
"We're too late, William."
William remained silent, his brow furrowed in confusion. The situation had spiraled beyond anything he'd expected.
"This means the Quidditch match must end," Dumbledore said, raising his wand and summoning a silver phoenix.
"The final is suspended. Under the protection of your professors, all students are to return to their common rooms."
The large silver phoenix circled William, filling him with a comforting warmth, then flew off, shattering the window on its way toward the Quidditch pitch.
"Come now. We need to discuss this in my office."
Dumbledore turned and left, sparing not a glance at Tywin's body.
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