Capítulo 77: Chapter 77: What If The Resolution Is Unjust?
The silence of the night was abruptly shattered by the roar of a Fiendfyre spell. It detonated within the confines of the underground classroom, causing the floor beneath Sherlock and Dumbledore to shudder momentarily before settling back into stillness. This was quickly followed by an atypical sound, unlike the first, this one was rhythmic and pulsating like a steady drum beat.
The sound was the patter of feet, originating from the floor beneath Sherlock and Dumbledore. By the time it reached their ears, it had dulled down to a gentle tapping. Even so, they quickly caught onto the break in the otherwise hushed surroundings. It most certainly wasn't the noise of a two-legged being scurrying away.
Promptly afterward, the distinct echo of stomping feet resonated from the staircase above. Dumbledore, with his face hardened into a stern line, bounded down the stairs, followed swiftly by Sherlock.
Their destination was the corridor leading to the Potions classroom. As they broke from the staircase, they were nearly side-swiped by a hulking, fuzzy silhouette. In the split second that it flashed past, Sherlock caught fleeting glimpses of multiple dark eyes and long, spindly legs. A spider, and a colossal one at that!
Young Dumbledore also appeared to recognize the fleeing creature. Swift as a falcon, he had his wand drawn before Sherlock could so much as blink. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore set off a blinding crimson spell that spread out in a web-like burst, filling the narrow staircase in a red glow.
As green ichor splattered across the stairs in response, a low, guttural cry echoed ominously. Undaunted, the arachnid continued to scuttle at an astonishing pace, vanishing within seconds.
Young Dumbledore's frown deepened at the creature's disappearance, but he refrained from pursuing it. Instead, he made his way towards the source of the original chaos – the Potions classroom. Its disordered condition bore witness to the devastating power of a Fiendfyre spell.
A student from Slytherin, a boy named Tom whom Dumbledore had earlier greeted amicably, was being pinned down by a stocky boy. "It's Hagrid, Professor! He let that monster loose from the Chamber of Secrets! I nearly snared it, but Hagrid intefered, letting that beast escape," Tom accused, although his tone remained remarkably calm for someone who claimed to have experienced such a harrowing ordeal.
Hagrid, in stark contrast, was a mess of panic, his normally cheerful face flushed with embarrassment and indignant fury. "No, Professor Dumbledore! It wasn't Aragog! He's been in my cupboard since he hatched. I swear, he ain't killed anyone!"
The young Dumbledore stayed composed, albeit with a flicker of uncertainty flickering in his gaze. "Let him go, Hagrid" he instructed.
Before the conversation could continue, the clatter of hurried footsteps filled the corridor, and in the next moment, a group of professors entered the scene. Sherlock recognized a few familiar faces: a younger Professor Slughorn and Headmaster Armando Dippet.
Dippet, looking notably more worn than even Dumbledore does fifty years later, demanded an explanation of the situation from Albus.
Dumbledore shook his head, "I've just arrived here myself, perhaps it would be best if we hear it directly from Tom and Hagrid."
He gestured towards the pair. The story, as it stood so far, was unbalanced against Hagrid, despite the evidence suggesting otherwise. Tom, being a prefect, enjoyed the faculty's favor, while Hagrid, smeared in the creature's viscous green blood, seemed to be in a far less favorable position.
The surroundings morphed into silvery hues that swirled around Sherlock and Dumbledore, freezing the scene on Tom's chillingly calm countenance and Hagrid's desperate pleas.
"His talent for deception is truly exceptional," Dumbledore observed in a serene tone. "From our first meeting, I understood his true nature. But even I fell under his spell, almost believing he might have changed, might have outgrown his past misdemeanors, that they were due to youthful ignorance."
Sherlock questioned, "You're referring to Tom?" The boy certainly acted well beyond his years and had a charisma that could potentially make him a very influential wizard.
Before Dumbledore could respond, the silvery particles began to shift and reconfigure themselves into a different scene, transporting them back to the headmaster's office in Hogwarts.
Without the presence of Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, and the light-hearted chimes of magical trinkets, the office was unusually quiet. Occupying the walls were the familiar portraits of previous headmasters, all dozing with eyes closed. However, the portrait of Headmaster Armando Dippet was missing, because he was there in person, ensconced behind his office desk.
"We can't make arbitrary judgments about Hagrid's guilt." Dumbledore was imploring Headmaster Dippet to stall the school's conclusions. "At least wait till we capture the creature that attacked Miss Warren."
Dippet shook his head decisively, his voice weighed heavy with regret, "We can't afford to wait, Albus. The Ministry of Magic demands a swift resolution, as does the Board of Governors, not to mention the grieving family of the victim. They need closure, something to make sense of this unexpected tragedy. Hogwarts must survive, Albus. We need to resolve this case quickly."
"What if the resolution is unjust?" Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow at Dippet's response.
"Hagrid confessed to harboring a dangerous creature and refused to turn it over. He has no confidence in us. He believes we'll kill it. With such damning circumstantial evidence and his stubborn refusal to turn over evidence that could clear him, how could our conclusion be incorrect?"
Upon hearing this, Dumbledore ceased pleading, quietly exiting the room without another word. As he watched his younger self's silhouette fade, he murmured to Sherlock, "I remember wondering then that even if Hagrid managed to prove his innocence, the outcome had been decided. Everyone was desperate for an end, not necessarily a just one."
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