The headmaster's office suddenly fell silent.

People subconsciously held their breath, looking at the small, wrinkled chick that had emerged from the ashes.

The little chick fluttered a few times in Hermione's hand, seemingly wanting to find a place to hide. However, having just been reborn, it didn't have much strength in either its wings or claws, making its struggles look more like it was nuzzling and acting cute in Hermione's palm.

"Will it remember the things that happened before, Professor?"

Hermione looked at the adorable little creature in her hands, her eyes shining, and asked softly.

"You see, it seems to like me, it keeps gently rubbing against me—"

"Each time a phoenix undergoes rebirth, it's essentially a brand new life."

Dumbledore had a gentle smile on his face as he walked over and stroked the little chick's head, saying with a smile.

"It's about time, it had been in that state for days. I kept telling it to hurry up and act. I didn't expect it would insist on waiting until you came before actively choosing to be reborn—though, it doesn't like you right now, it's just afraid..."

He saw an extremely complicated expression on Hermione's face, and couldn't help but chuckle softly again.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, Hermione. When a phoenix is dying, it often hopes to make its rebirth more meaningful. However, when it rises from the ashes, it is a completely new little creature. Compared to the magical oppression in your bloodline, it's too young right now—"

If one were to follow Eastern divination, Veelas and phoenixes are inherently incompatible, destined to clash when together.

However, compared to their first meeting at the beginning of last year, the scene now was clearly much more harmonious.

After more than a year of magical study, Hermione had become more proficient in controlling her magic, and she was now rarely influenced emotionally by her bloodline.

On the other hand, the reborn little phoenix was simply too young. Given the absolute difference in strength, Fawkes couldn't escape Hermione's grasp even if it struggled with all its might.

Most importantly, that terrifying witch was not afraid of the so-called phoenix fire.

Dismissing the little chick's hard-earned flame with a casual gesture, Hermione ignited a ball of ethereal blue flame on her fingertip.

*Guji! ovo!*

The poor little phoenix's eyes widened, and after hesitating for a few seconds, it finally stopped struggling.

"That's more like it. Well then, I'll still call you Fawkes—"

Hermione narrowed her eyes contentedly and, in front of Dumbledore, tucked the phoenix into her pocket.

"Professor, I think little Fawkes seems to have a special connection with me in this life. I'll raise it for a few days and bring it back to you when it grows up."

The newly born little phoenix was warm all over, like a small hand warmer in her pocket. Compared to the disobedient, arrogant golden-haired turkey from before, it was clearly much more obedient. As expected, you have to raise them from a young age.

"I'm afraid you'll have to keep it in the headmaster's office."

As Dumbledore spoke, he flicked his wand gently, and the pile of ashes flew back into the nest on the bird stand like a veil.

"Phoenixes are different from other creatures. There is no master-servant relationship between them and wizards. The ancestors of the Dumbledore family established an ancient magical contract with phoenixes: whenever a Dumbledore needs help, a phoenix will fly to their side. In other words, if you don't let it grow up in this room, it may take a long time to return to its former beautiful form—even if you feed it magic..."

Phoenixes are fascinating magical creatures.

Except for the days around their rebirth, they are very beautiful most of the time: covered in amazing red and gold feathers.

More importantly, they are also very powerful and wondrous creatures. They can carry extremely heavy things, their tears have healing properties, they can travel freely through space like house-elves, and they are especially loyal, brave, and pure.

If a succubus symbolizes cunning, cruelty, and chaos, then a phoenix is undoubtedly its closest opposite.

"Hmm, is that so? I thought phoenixes also had imprinting habits... After all, it's a bird."

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore dubiously, suspecting that the old codger was lying to her.

At least, judging from the feedback from the quiet, motionless little creature in her pocket, it still liked her this time.

Dumbledore shrugged, returned to the high-backed chair behind his desk, and stared at Hermione with his light blue, penetrating gaze, looking remarkably calm, as if watching a child misbehaving, which made Hermione hesitate a little.

After all, if Fawkes really couldn't be raised by another wizard, then the guardianship she snatched wouldn't mean much.

"The contract is the contract, but the phoenix's growth cycle has nothing to do with the contract—"

Just then, a faint voice came from the door of the headmaster's office.

Amid Dumbledore's suddenly helpless expression, a retired old Dark Lord grinned, folded his arms, and said with a smile.

"This phoenix was a gift from me to Albus, and it was already a fully grown bird back then—as for magic and growth, its fiery phoenix form was ignited by my magic... Perhaps it won't listen to my instructions, but that doesn't stop you from keeping it as a pet first..."

"Oh, Professor Apocalyps," Dumbledore's lips twitched, "this child already raises magical creatures—"

"As the voluntarily chosen master of a Cerberus, I believe Hermione is fully capable of caring for a young phoenix. Besides, such a pure, brave, and beautiful creature as a phoenix is very much in line with this little girl's character and appearance—Albus, you're not getting any younger. You can't do everything yourself as you used to. Sometimes you should let young people train and learn more, right?"

Dumbledore wanted to say something, but Grindelwald interrupted him again, the old Dark Lord winking at Hermione.

In Grindelwald's long life, watching Dumbledore being frustrated was undoubtedly one of his greatest pleasures.

And now, there was an extra little pleasure: making Hermione happy.

Such a win-win situation was becoming increasingly difficult to find these days, after all, Dumbledore's health was not as good as before, and many exciting activities and games might not be able to be carried out as recklessly as before.

"Let's leave the phoenix for now and discuss it in detail later. Today's focus is not on the phoenix's rebirth—"

Grindelwald waved his hand, directly sealing Dumbledore's subsequent struggles, and his expression became serious.

"So, Mr. Lockhart, are you ready to face your past experiences? This is not just about social opinion and some personal follow-up work, but also may include questions from the Ministry of Magic, and even attacks from students, parents, or your former fans."

"Professor Apocalyps, I—"

"...It seems you're still hesitant, aren't you? That's understandable. You're so popular now—"

"Mr. Tower!" Lockhart took a deep breath and said in a deep voice, "This time I won't back down. If I can't face the past, I'm not qualified to stay in the Great Arcana. I hope I can put an end to those nightmares."

"Oh," Grindelwald said, raising an eyebrow, "Okay, so what's the plan now, Miss Fool?"

He shrugged noncommittally and turned to look at Hermione with interest.

Ever since he met Hermione, Hermione had always been laughably naive, but her naive ideas all seemed to work.

In this little girl's world, there seemed to be no such thing as choices or sacrifices. Grindelwald was very curious to see how far such a pure idealist could go, and when she would return from that fairytale world to reality.

At least, from Grindelwald's current point of view, there didn't seem to be a win-win solution.

"Do you think I'm an omniscient god, Grandpa?"

Hermione retorted unhappily, refraining from rolling her eyes at the old Dark Lord for helping her trick the phoenix.

"So, you're saying... you haven't figured it out yet?"

Dumbledore said, his expression a little strange.

"Well, I have some ideas—"

Hermione spread her hands, looked at the wizards in the room with their varied expressions, and explained calmly.

"From the perspective of results and core procedures, Mr. Hanged Man's past black history, and even the people he has harmed, will definitely be confessed to the magical public one by one. But there are still many details worth refining in terms of operation methods, order, and tone."

"The same words, the same story, told in different ways will produce completely different effects."

"A world where no one is hurt doesn't only exist in fairytales."

Hermione paused slightly, her gaze turning to the distance.

At this moment, Lockhart was looking at her with a complex expression. The young wizard was silent for a moment, seeming to consider and change the questions several times.

"I've always been confused, Miss Fool. Do you really think I'm qualified to hold a place in the Great Arcana?"

He said seriously, looking around at the three Dark Lords in the room, "Perhaps I'm more suitable for an A-level member, rather than a Great Arcana member who bears such high expectations and power? After all, considering ability, past, and other aspects, I—"

"What nonsense are you talking about, Mr. Hanged Man?"

Hermione looked at Lockhart curiously and replied without hesitation.

"Do you think the Great Arcana is a children's game? Your qualifications don't come from someone else's appointment—they come from your achievements in the magical field, the field of memory, which also include the brilliant achievements you may achieve in the future... The manpower you can mobilize, the resources you can control, the knowledge you can obtain, all of these are based on you, Gilderoy Lockhart, and what you deserve."

Hermione said calmly, carefully examining Lockhart and smiling slightly.

"This is the best resource allocation in the present situation, and you have never disappointed anyone. Are you starting to be afraid of the reporters' flashbulbs?"

Lockhart didn't know how to respond.

He suddenly remembered the farewell words of the director of the Black Sea Shipyard: "This child, the last work of the former Soviet Union, is entrusted to you, wizards. Now let me forget your names, faces, and let it completely decompose into steel in my memory... You know the details, right?"

At this moment, those admirable Muggles were still grieving and distressed for the false memories.

And as the leader of memory modification, he was still guarding everyone's memory—just like an encrypted envelope, no one but him could return those real memories to those Muggle minds. This was also the reason why "forgetting" was so difficult to recover.

Then, he remembered the special execution he had witnessed in the headmaster's office.

Remembering the words written on the title page of the Foundation's membership: "When others live in the sunlight, some must fight in the shadows, preventing those dangerous things from being exposed to the public, so that others can live in a rational, ordinary world."

He also remembered the burning and pure gazes of the scholars in the research institute, remembered the students' private discussions about his aspirations, remembered Quirinus Quirrell's confession of regret, remembered the bravery he felt when facing Voldemort's Horcrux on the streets of Russia...

Of course, there was also Alhihpovna's increasingly casual teasing, the agreement to teach him how to use a gun after Christmas...

And the growing worry in his heart, fearing that one day he would revert to the terrible, vain, and flamboyant self he once was.

And now, the hope of salvation was before his eyes—behind him, stood the entire future.

"Of course not," Lockhart said, "There is nothing to be afraid of anymore."

When the hunt at Christmas was over, he would try to help Alhihpovna apply for Hyperion's tour qualification.

Speaking of which, as a Great Arcana member, Lockhart had never been to the legendary "City of Succubi."

But thinking about it carefully, as the "Hyperion Repair Base" and the entrance to the core inner worlds such as "Gringotts Technology Branch," "Valkyria Research Institute," and "Destiny Group Material Reserve," it should be an academic holy land far beyond the research institute outside the school.

Anyway, he was also a Great Arcana member, and there was no problem in saying that he was the highest administrative officer in charge of that area.

In this way, he could at least get back a point in front of that woman from the Landau Institute.

"..."

Hermione was silent for a few seconds, then turned to look at Grindelwald.

"I was just thinking, let's transfer one more wizard from Salzburg."

"One... wizard?" Grindelwald raised an eyebrow meaningfully, his eyes flashing.

"Yes, by then, there will also be a mixed mobile division of goblins, giants, and Black Olipha on standby at Gringotts at any time."

Hermione touched the little chick in her arms with some disdain.

Due to the change in the timeline, this operation couldn't rely on the phoenix Fawkes to blind the basilisk. It was still better to prepare as thoroughly as possible, to avoid the disaster of having Lockhart and those guys actually raise their flags. That would be too terrible.

"It would be good if the basilisk stayed quietly in the castle and died, but what if it just happened to run out..."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, glanced at the clouds outside the window, and said softly.

"In short, if something unexpected happens, just cover the area with firepower—strive for zero casualties, and it's okay if the basilisk skin gets beaten up."

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Yay!