The wizarding world appeared completely calm on the surface, but dark undercurrents were surging underneath.
That very evening, through the international Floo Network, Fudge spoke at great length with members of the International Confederation of Wizards.
No one knew what they discussed.
When Fudge returned to his office, he ultimately decided to let tomorrow's edition of The Daily Prophet be printed and distributed as scheduled.
A little past six in the morning, Hogwarts, the Hufflepuff Common Room.
In the dark, a figure rubbed sleepy eyes and stepped out of the dormitory door.
Though his eyes were still closed, he was extremely familiar with the layout of the common room, winding past every obstacle in the room before slipping out of the common room and into the corridor outside.
Navigating expertly into the kitchens, only then did Kyle open his eyes.
Although conventional morning exercise was completely useless at this point in terms of building Kyle's physical strength, he had still kept the habit.
The house-elves in the kitchen were aware of Kyle's routine, so by the time he stepped inside, a small bowl of thin porridge was already sitting on the table, steaming with white vapor to line his stomach.
Over an hour later, as the Hogwarts students gradually woke up, Kyle also concluded his routine workout.
After returning to his room to clean up a bit, he joined the army of hungry students heading to the Great Hall alongside the newly awoken badgers.
Before Kyle could finish clearing the food off his plate, a noisy flapping of wings echoed above his head. Hundreds of owls poured in from windows all around the Great Hall, dropping copies of The Daily Prophet in front of everyone dining inside.
Kyle frowned; the owls were exceptionally early today.
He always paced his eating very well. Normally, these owls would only come swooping in after he had cleared the plate clean like a whirlwind.
A jet-black crow with a copy of The Daily Prophet in its beak landed right on Kyle's shoulder.
"Go away, Itachi," Kyle said with disdain, shooing the crow off his shoulder.
The Daily Prophet was just like those brainless media outlets from his past life on the internet—a single picture at the start, with all content completely made up. Thus, Kyle never had the habit of reading the newspaper.
If he had the time to read this kind of foolish paper, he'd rather buy a copy of The Quibbler.
Sometimes, the absurd imagination of The Quibbler's editor-in-chief left even a transmigrator like Kyle feeling inferior.
While Kyle kept his head down and continued shoveling food into his mouth, today's edition of The Daily Prophet stirred up a massive storm among the students.
At first, there were only whispers exchanged among the students in the Great Hall. Soon, these discussions turned into commotion, and finally, the noise grew louder and louder until it felt like a chaotic, bustling marketplace.
Moreover, every student kept casting strange looks toward Kyle.
Kyle was a bit bewildered, completely unaware of what had happened.
With her brows tightly furrowed, Hermione handed Kyle a copy of today's Daily Prophet.
Kyle accepted the paper with a confused face. The moment it reached his hands, he caught sight of the large text across the front-page headline:
"The Mystery of Kyle Dumbledore's Lineage: A Rising Star of the Wizarding World, or the Future Dark Lord?"
Kyle: ???
Reading down carefully, Kyle's expression didn't change in the slightest.
So what if his identity was exposed? What was the big deal?
Keep calm.
Seeing Kyle act like nothing had happened, as if the person exposed weren't him at all, Hermione shook Kyle's hand anxiously. "Aren't you worried at all?"
"Worried about what?" Kyle pointed at the two old men at the staff table. "If the sky falls, those two are there to hold it up. What is there to be afraid of?"
Hermione was instantly choked up.
That... actually made sense.
Seeing that both Dumbledore and Grindelwald were still reading their newspapers with no intention of maintaining order in the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall tapped her spoon against her goblet.
"Silence!"
The entire Great Hall instantly fell dead silent, and everyone turned their gazes toward Dumbledore, wanting to get a definitive answer from him.
Dumbledore slowly lowered the newspaper in his hand and stood up.
He cleared his throat. "Regarding your confusion, I can state with absolute certainty: Kyle is indeed the son of Grindelwald."
As Dumbledore's words fell, the previously quiet Great Hall instantly burst into commotion once more.
By the Hufflepuff table, a figure stood up.
The students in the Great Hall looked at Ernie Macmillan curiously, wondering what he intended to do.
Beside Ernie, a pale-faced Justin Finch-Fletchley tugged on his friend's hand, trying to make him sit down, but Ernie remained standing.
During the Chamber of Secrets incident back then, Justin Finch-Fletchley had been unfortunate enough to be attacked by the Basilisk, an event that remained an indelible shadow in his heart to this day.
He was clearly terrified of another Dark Lord popping up inside Hogwarts.
"Kyle, what I want to know is," Ernie's voice trembled slightly, but he still spoke slowly and firmly, "will you despise Muggles like your father did?"
Ernie was asking this question on Justin's behalf.
Hearing Ernie's question, the corners of Grindelwald's mouth twitched.
Who said he despised Muggles?
Utter nonsense!
He simply believed Muggles had a different value and ought to be treated distinctively.
Yet in the mouths of these too simple, sometimes naive media outlets, it turned into him despising Muggles?
Dumbledore cast a teasing glance over from the side, while Grindelwald pretended he hadn't seen a thing.
Because of Ernie's question, the entire Great Hall instantly fell dead silent again.
They were all curious about Kyle's answer as well.
Seeing that the two old men had no intention of stepping in, Kyle had no choice but to stand up and walk to the center of the Great Hall.
Looking around, Kyle's gaze fell back onto Ernie Macmillan, and he spoke slowly:
"I know what you're worried about—worried that I despise Muggles, that I despise those who cannot cast spells. But I do not despise them."
Kyle's voice was very soft, yet every student in the Great Hall could hear him clearly.
"Equally, I will not discriminate against Muggle-born wizards or those less-than-pure half-bloods like Voldemort, believing that pure-bloods are the most noble beings."
"In my eyes, whether they are Muggle-born wizards or pure-blood wizards, they are all the same."
"Bloodline carries no hierarchy of noble or base, nor should anyone be treated differently because of it."
Pausing slightly, Kyle originally wanted to continue, but a clamor of noisy footsteps echoed from the castle entrance hall outside the Great Hall.
Following that, a large crowd of wizards dressed as Aurors filed in. Everyone in the Great Hall stared at these unexpected intruders.
At their head was Cornelius Fudge, and standing beside him was a fellow dressed as though he had come from France.
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