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Having quickly restored the damage caused to the class, we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, from where I went alone to the Headmaster's office.

A statue of a gargoyle guarded the passage to the Headmaster's office in an alcove.

"Sugar toffee," I called the password quietly, and the gargoyle began to turn, lowering itself down, thus opening the way to the spiral staircase upstairs, after climbing which I knocked on the door of the Headmaster's office.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's muffled voice from the door, and I stepped inside.

The Headmaster's office hadn't changed. It's still just as spacious, with all sorts of magical things on the desks and cabinets. A little gloomy because of the dark time of day. Gloomy and dark, but every corner of this office was fairly well lit. The Headmaster stood in the far corner of the office, near a bowl of water on a stone pedestal, and around the pedestal, close to him, were tall mirrors.

"Come in, have a seat," the Headmaster indicated with his hand to a chair near his desk.

As I walked to the chair and sat in it, I glanced over at the phoenix that sat on its perch next to the Headmaster's chair. Fawkes also looked at me studying, occasionally distracted by eating peanuts in a saucer.

"Well..." spoke Dumbledore, walking over to his chair and taking a seat. "Let me tell you, Mr. Knight, you surprised the professors and me by unraveling the Age Line. You have shown extraordinary magical sensitivity. Let me guess - that's what you need a second wand for? And it doesn't suit you at all?"

"You're right, Headmaster."

Just then, a white cat ran into the office, transforming into Lady Greengrass on the fly. Not in a dress, but in that pantsuit for training and in a rather odd cloth cloak with lots of almost invisible rune and symbol embroidery.

"Ah, Mrs. Greengrass, you're just in time," the Headmaster moved another chair from the depths of the office with a gesture of his hand, and Delphine hurriedly took it.

"You don't mind if I tell Mr. Knight about some of our ... problems?" asked the Headmaster.

"I'm totally for it, Headmaster."

"Fine," interestingly enough, the Headmaster wasn't smiling. "I think I'll start with some sherbet lemon. Would you like some? Tea?"

"With pleasure," I nodded, as did Lady Greengrass.

"Wonderful."

With another gesture of his hand, the Headmaster levitated a tea service and a tall plate of sherbet lemon from somewhere.

Well, let's find out.

A teapot levitating through the air quickly poured tea into three cups, and there was a distinct scent of bergamot in the air.

"Classic. Always loved citrus," the Headmaster smiled for the first time, taking a cup of tea from the table and inhaling the aroma. "Help yourself."

Taking a candy and sipping the tea, we looked intently at the Headmaster, who covered his eyes for a moment.

"It's just candy. Somehow it's not even interesting."

"So," the Headmaster spoke up. "Mr. Knight. I can't give you admission to the Restricted Section just because you became a champion. However... Professor Flitwick, you know, once again conceived a grandiose breakthrough. A very complex and voluminous subject, these magic storages. But you and I understand that all new is well forgotten old. This means that you need to properly study all the different materials you can find in the Restricted Section. All for the professor's project, of course, but who knows what book might contain something important?"

"I understand you, Headmaster. Thank you."

"No need," he smiled. "Now, as to Mrs. Greengrass's presence here. Several factors at once, some of them not the most pleasant, have influenced this decision. Would you like to tell it yourself?"

"No, thank you, Professor," smiled Delphine. "You're good at telling stories. I even regret that I studied with you as my professor for only a couple of years."

"Oh, come on," the Headmaster smiled for a moment but then got serious. "The situation is extremely ambiguous and incomprehensible. When Mrs. Greengrass asked about the possibility of a personal apprenticeship for you, Mr. Knight, I was extremely puzzled. A personal apprenticeship is not one or two lessons a day, but a much denser mentoring, incompatible with the school curriculum - there simply isn't enough time. I'm not even talking about the difficulty of registering Mrs. Greengrass as a member of the castle staff. There are too many rules and restrictions for outsiders, and they are not just written on a piece of parchment. Soon, however, the fact of Mr. Greengrass's disappearance became definitively clear. You may not know it, but the Greengrass family was actively involved in the organization of the tournament, along with several others, as were the ministries."

We took a couple more sips of fragrant tea, and the Headmaster continued:

"This fact has planted some misgivings in my soul. Do you remember this diary?"

The Headmaster pulled an old black Tom Riddle diary, pierced with a basilisk fang, from his desk.

"Absolutely, Headmaster. I personally destroyed it."

"Yes. Exactly," the Headmaster turned the diary thoughtfully in his hands and placed it on the table. "Even on that unfortunate day in October of '81, I suspected that Voldemort did not die completely, and I have received more than one confirmation of that fact in recent years. I tried for a long time to piece together the pieces of the puzzle. I went through my memories, over and over, but whenever the clue seemed to be in my hands, it slipped away. Some little detail that could explain all the horrible events that had happened. It was literally driving me crazy."