Malfoy walked through the corridor, feeling the scorching heat radiating from the two-way mirror hidden in his robes.
During class, Dumbledore had repeatedly sent him signals, clearly wanting to contact him.
It was obvious that the mirror needed to be kept close to the body, and that it must not be exposed in public while they were communicating.
Malfoy chose the Room of Requirement as their meeting place.
He made his way to the eighth floor and stopped opposite the tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by trolls.
He focused on finding the appropriate space, hesitated several times, and soon a smooth door appeared on the wall.
Malfoy pushed it open.
After finding an empty space between two abandoned bookshelves, he finally took out the mirror.
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore. What can I do for you?"
Malfoy held the mirror up to his eyes, stared at the old man, and whispered.
"How are things, Draco? Life at Hogwarts should be easier now, shouldn't it?"
Malfoy's expression turned cold.
"I hope you didn't contact me over something so trivial."
"The students' state of mind is no small matter, especially when you have such a heavy workload."
Dumbledore still wore the same smiling expression.
"It is rather heavy."
Malfoy did not deny that the work ahead would be difficult.
The task should have been handled by Snape, but it had now fallen to him.
"You've worked hard."
Dumbledore suddenly coughed several times.
"If there's nothing else, I need to do my homework. Professor McGonagall has assigned quite a lot."
Malfoy spoke indifferently and pretended to put the mirror away.
He did not want to listen to the old man rambling endlessly.
"Oh, an examination? I'm sure it won't be too difficult for you."
"I don't want to hear your nonsense, Professor Dumbledore."
Malfoy suppressed his impatience. Dumbledore's carefree attitude made him feel inexplicably anxious.
Although he knew that the old man's behaviour was completely different from his true thoughts, he still could not control his temper.
"All right. Let's talk about our results first. We were rather fortunate."
Dumbledore's face flushed slightly.
"We have gained the recognition of the snakewood."
"The snakewood from Ilvermorny?"
"Yes. I suspect Lord Voldemort may have set his sights on it."
"You took it away?"
"Yes. It took quite a bit of effort, but we've managed to keep it safe for now."
Malfoy believed that Dumbledore was merely understating the situation. Either of those two old wizards was capable of causing tremendous trouble, let alone the two of them working together.
"I don't care about any of that. I only want to know what you intend to do about the Horcrux..."
Malfoy's voice was low.
"I'll think of something regarding that basilisk—"
"Not the basilisk."
"I need more time to consider it."
Dumbledore's smile faded.
"The one who cannot afford to delay any longer is not the Dark Lord. If he realizes that the Horcruxes are almost completely destroyed, then..."
The problem currently facing Lord Voldemort was the disobedient Elder Wand.
The reason for its disobedience was quite simple.
Dumbledore had previously "lost" the wand to Grindelwald.
Lord Voldemort had not actually defeated Dumbledore at that time.
Furthermore, even if the wand's owner was no longer Dumbledore but Grindelwald, the situation would remain the same.
That was also why Lord Voldemort had noticed something unusual when he fought Grindelwald.
He did not understand the complex logic behind it and instead assumed that the Elder Wand possessed some other secret.
Even so, the wand would only become disloyal when its master opposed it.
For the most part, Lord Voldemort was a sufficiently powerful wizard to be recognized as the Elder Wand's master.
At the very least, he would not normally face resistance.
As for now, he was still trying to uncover its secrets.
He needed to find Salazar's wand from that era—the snakewood from Ilvermorny.
That was one of the reasons he had left Britain.
Moody's life-risking deception had indeed influenced his decision considerably.
The unknown magic contained within the wand was simply too tempting.
It had even caused him to temporarily forget his grand ambition of unifying the wizarding world.
"Take some time to think about that snake, Dumbledore. I can't see it at Hogwarts right now."
"Lord Voldemort has disappeared without a trace," Malfoy said rapidly.
"Albus, look at this!"
Grindelwald's aged voice suddenly rang out from the other side of the mirror.
"I may have to end this conversation now."
Dumbledore frowned. Something seemed to have gone wrong on his end again.
"I have no objections."
Malfoy remained calm.
The conversation ended without producing any useful information or constructive results.
Soon, the examinations were approaching.
Every student was called into the office by their Head of House for a discussion about career guidance and their future aspirations.
Clearly, their examination results would largely determine the direction of their future.
One such career was that of an Auror—the wizarding equivalent of a police officer.
In Muggle society, police officers were armed, and even an ordinary person with professional training and a weapon could exercise considerable authority.
For wizards, however, the use of magic could directly determine the outcome of a battle.
It was a profession that allowed individuals to display their abilities to the fullest.
It was also one of the most dangerous careers.
"Professor Snape is still the same."
Pansy spoke to Malfoy after leaving Snape's office.
"He read all my previous grades aloud, told me to think carefully about my future, and then dismissed me."
"That's so irresponsible," Pansy muttered.
"Oh, right. He wants you to go in now. I'll tell you about it when you come back."
Pansy seemed to have suddenly remembered something.
Inside the dimly lit office, a single candle flickered, casting a faint glow.
"Hello, Professor Snape."
"Hello, Draco."
Snape sat in his chair, almost completely concealed by the darkness. He began with an unusually polite greeting.
"I have already passed the latest intelligence on to you."
However, the Dark Lord did not respond.
Of course he won't respond. He's currently in the United States.
Malfoy nodded to himself.
"Career counselling is meaningless for you, don't you agree?"
"You go first..."
What an awkward conversation.
As soon as Malfoy stepped out of the office, Pansy immediately approached him.
"Why did you spend less time with him than I did?"
"Perhaps he thinks I have a bright future and doesn't need to worry about me."
Malfoy smiled without saying anything more.
Compared with Snape, who left students to fend for themselves, Professor McGonagall of Gryffindor was clearly much more concerned about her students.
"Longbottom, I suggest that you give up Potions. It will probably be very difficult for you. At the very least, try not to make your report card look too terrible."
She pointed seriously at the parchment displaying Neville's grades.
"Your performance in Herbology is good. Professor Sprout said she would be delighted to see you in your sixth year."
"Potter, if you intend to pursue a career as an Auror, you need a sufficiently good academic record."
She pulled a small black pamphlet from beneath the pile of documents on her desk and unfolded it.
"I know. You need the necessary certificates, and your grades cannot be lower than 'Acceptable.' After that, you must undergo a series of rigorous personality and intelligence tests at the Auror Office."
"It is a difficult career path. Aurors only recruit the best. In fact, I don't recall anyone being accepted during the past three years..."
"You will need to learn advanced potion-making techniques."
"Defence Against the Dark Arts is essential, but I am not worried about you in that subject."
"And for Ancient Runes, I hope you can achieve an excellent result."
Professor McGonagall also spoke with Harry at length.
"Granger, you are the student I worry about the least. Nevertheless, I hope you can improve your Defence Against the Dark Arts grade from 'Acceptable' to 'Outstanding.'"
"Remember my promise."
Professor McGonagall's stern, bark-like face showed a rare hint of a smile.
"All right, Professor."
Hermione nodded obediently.
Even Professor McGonagall had no idea what her favourite student was truly thinking.
One student after another entered her office and then left with either a smile or a dejected expression.
Professor McGonagall was extremely dedicated to her work.
As for Ron, he belonged to the latter group. He emerged from the office looking thoroughly miserable.
"As a Prefect, your grades are very unsatisfactory. In fact, even if you were an ordinary student, your results would still be quite concerning."
"If you cannot guarantee a certain level of improvement, I believe it is time for you to consider replacing your Prefect badge."
Ron was scolded thoroughly before slinking away.