The door swung open.

Seeing this, Dawn was reminded of Ravenclaw’s bronze knocker. For some reason, he suddenly felt the urge to answer another riddle.

The Gryffindor common room was lively.

Lee greeted a few acquaintances before heading back to his dormitory.

There was no one else inside.

Which made sense—Gryffindors weren’t the type to stay in on a weekend.

Even after the practical lesson, most of them would still be out enjoying themselves, or gathered in the common room if they had returned.

Lee walked over to his bed, rummaged around for a while, and pulled out a clean set of robes.

He took off his clothes and went into the washroom, rinsing away all the dust from the day.

Then he didn’t linger.

After changing into clean clothes, he left the dormitory.

Dawn slipped out from the corner, climbed back onto him, and followed him out of the common room, down the spiral staircase, and toward the library entrance.

“Madam Pince, do you keep old issues of the Daily Prophet here?” Lee asked quietly at the counter.

“The Daily Prophet?” Madam Pince set down her book. “I’m afraid not, child. The library does not collect such things.”

Something so far removed from true knowledge—mere propaganda for the Ministry—had no place in a sacred space like the library.

“I see…” Lee looked dejected. After standing there for a moment, he sighed and left.

Madam Pince watched him go, puzzled.

It was only a newspaper—why such disappointment?

After thinking for a moment, she considered that perhaps she should start collecting daily issues from now on and organize them near the counter.

Even if she didn’t consider them knowledge, this was still a school. She should listen to what the students wanted.

In the corridor outside—

Dawn found himself asking the same question.

Why was Lee Jordan looking for old issues of the Daily Prophet?

He narrowed his eyes, thoughts racing, and remained perched on Lee’s back, watching his every move.

“What a headache,” Lee muttered, tugging at one of his dreadlocks before tossing it back.

He stood by the corridor for a while, considering whether to sneak out of the castle—

Then suddenly, he seemed to remember something.

A place he knew.

A place that might give him exactly what he wanted.

After a moment of hesitation, Lee took a deep breath and stepped onto the shifting staircase again.

He moved with familiarity, arriving at the eighth floor, stopping before a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by trolls.

The Room of Requirement?

Hidden behind him, Dawn frowned.

How did this boy know about this place? But the answer came quickly.

Dawn himself had told the Weasley twins about it—and Lee was their dormmate.

Of course he would know.

Lee didn’t hesitate.

He began pacing back and forth in the corridor. “I need a room filled with old issues of the Daily Prophet. I need a room…”

A handle appeared on the wall.

Lee hesitated briefly, then gripped it and slowly pushed the door open.

Dawn craned his head, curious.

What kind of room had he summoned?

Inside was a vast space.

Rows upon rows of metal shelves stretched into the distance, filled with newspapers—old and new, pristine and tattered.

All of them—

The Daily Prophet.

Dawn grew even more puzzled.

Why such obsession?

Lee stepped inside, pulled a paper from one of the shelves, and glanced at it.

His expression gradually relaxed.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that the newspapers were arranged in chronological order.

That would make things much easier.

He moved along the shelves, following the dates, until he stopped at one on the right.

He pulled out a paper.

Dawn shifted awkwardly, climbing along Lee’s robes, peeking over his shoulder.

What exactly was he looking for?

The headline read:

[Dawn Richter! The Madman Who Attacked the Boy Who Lived Confirmed Dead!]

Dawn froze.

His eyes narrowed instantly.

This was—

The Daily Prophet from January 20th last year. The day he had been “killed” by Avery in the castle.

Why was Lee looking for this?

In that instant— Countless thoughts surged through Dawn’s mind.

Lee’s expression darkened.

He crumpled the edge of the paper unconsciously.

After a long moment, he let out a breath, folded it carefully, and placed it back.

Then he picked up the next issue.

January 21st.

Dawn leaned closer again.

He hadn’t paid attention to the news back then. He had been too busy researching the Felix Felicis ritual.

The headline read:

[Minister of Magic Declares Public Burning of Dawn Richter’s Corpse to Demonstrate Resolve Against Evil]

Below it was a photograph of a blazing furnace.

Crack—

Dawn’s teeth clenched audibly. His expression turned cold.

Fudge.

Well done.

So the half of his body created by the Flesh-Splitting Curse hadn’t been buried— It had been publicly burned by the Minister himself.

Dawn closed his eyes.

Memories surfaced.

Fudge had also been the one to suggest throwing his future self into the Veil of Death.

Old grudges and new fury surged together.

In that moment, Dawn made a decision.

When all of this was over— He would have a proper conversation with that “upright” Minister.

Lee placed the paper back and pulled out the next one.

January 22nd.

[Murphy Avery Missing After Avenging His Father?]

The report detailed how Murphy Avery, who had killed Dawn, had vanished afterward.

Even his father’s body had been found later in the castle by Dumbledore.

Where had Murphy gone?

The article speculated that, being young, he may have fled out of guilt after killing someone.

It ended with a broader question—

Was Hogwarts’ education truly adequate? Should psychological counseling be introduced?

Lee stared at the report for a long time before folding it slowly.

Then he took out the next issue.

January 23rd.

[Another Pure-Blood Family Faces Decline After the Gaunts]

The Avery family, once powerful and ancient, had been reduced to a single surviving member.

The article even mentioned a proposed marriage alliance with the Weasley family as a possible attempt to save their lineage.

Lee’s grip tightened.

The paper crumpled under his fingers.

He knew very well— Pure-blood families were not united.

In recent years, as their influence waned, they had only grown more ruthless toward each other.

When one declined, the others didn’t help.

They devoured.

Lee’s expression grew pained.

On his shoulder, Dawn stared at both the newspaper and the boy’s face.

Thoughts connected rapidly.

A strange dream. A sudden change in behavior.

Knowledge of the Room of Requirement. Searching for past newspapers.

Focusing on events surrounding Dawn’s supposed death. Reacting strongly to the Avery family’s downfall.

You—

Dawn’s expression changed abruptly.

His six legs tightened against the fabric of the robe as he turned to stare at Lee’s face.

An absurd thought surfaced—And the more he considered it, the more certain it felt.

You…

Could it be—?

___________

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