Chapter 472: The Leak
Chapter 472: The Leak
"I haven't figured everything out yet, but Quirinus has definitely learned more than he lets on. He's not as timid as he seems on the surface."
In the Headmaster's office, Severus Snape was reporting recent intelligence to Albus Dumbledore.
"I suspect the magical mechanisms we set up were useless," Snape said expressionlessly as he watched Dumbledore sitting at his desk, deep in thought with his hands folded. "If Quirinus Quirrell is indeed the dark wizard who broke into Gringotts."
"I never expected those mechanisms to stop a determined intruder," Dumbledore said calmly. "But it's undeniable that they've been quite effective so far, wouldn't you agree, Severus?"
"There's also something else," Snape continued, his face involuntarily twisting with disgust as he mentioned the name. "Harry Potter is investigating the item you hid on the fourth floor, and he's likely uncovered quite a bit already. Just like his father, he loves attention, stirring up trouble, breaking rules, and being insolent."
"Other teachers have mentioned that the boy is humble, amicable, and gifted," Dumbledore said peacefully.
"He might get involved in this matter," Snape said, his tone suddenly firm. "No, let me rephrase that—the arrogant boy will definitely involve himself. Have you already figured out something? Who's behind Quirinus' actions, sending him to steal from the school? Knowing Quirinus, he doesn't strike me as someone brave enough to rob Gringotts."
"There are some suspicions," Dumbledore said, his gaze shifting to the delicate silverware on the desk, which was now emitting tendrils of smoke.
"Who is it?" Snape asked, his hand unconsciously reaching for his arm. "It can't be him! Isn't he dead? And the Dark Mark hasn't changed either."
"You should know that Voldemort isn't truly dead," Dumbledore said.
At the mention of Voldemort, Snape's facial muscles twitched.
"Well, it seems we'll have to trouble you further regarding Quirinus," Dumbledore said, bringing the conversation to a close.
After Snape left the Headmaster's office, he narrowed his eyes, studying the delicate silverware on the desk that was now emitting smoke.
"I wonder who it could be?"
...
In the room, Albert sat in a chair, boredly flipping through his notebook by the light of a blazing torch. At his feet lay a blood-red stone.
If Quirinus were here, he would undoubtedly recognize it as the legendary Philosopher's Stone, yet Albert treated it like garbage, casually tossing it aside.
Quirinus would probably be furious if he knew! But, now that I think about it, is this really the Philosopher's Stone?
In truth, Albert couldn't be sure. He had tried to turn other objects into "gold," but all his attempts had failed.
Perhaps, as Albert initially suspected, this was just a stone that resembled the Philosopher's Stone. Otherwise, why would it be left here as bait?
What if it had actually been stolen?
Whether the stone was real or not didn't matter to Albert anymore. He had come here for the adventure, to navigate the magical obstacles set up by the professors, all to complete the "Hero's Challenge" task.
As for the Philosopher's Stone?
Even if it were real, he couldn't take it with him.
If a task ever required him to steal the stone, Albert wouldn't sacrifice the forest for a single tree.
Well, to be honest, the betrayal wasn't worth the payoff.
Hearing unfamiliar footsteps in the corridor outside, Albert turned and greeted the newcomer with a smile. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."
"Good evening, Mr. Anderson," Dumbledore smiled back. "What brings you here?"
"It's quite obvious, isn't it? A grand adventure," Albert said, bending down to pick up the stone from the floor under Dumbledore's watchful gaze. "Though, I must say, the reward at the end was a bit unexpected."
"I simply stood before the Mirror of Erised and saw myself pulling this out of my pocket. Your magical mechanism certainly worked wonders, Professor."
Albert held out the Sorcerer's Stone to Dumbledore, placing it in the headmaster's hand.
Dumbledore examined the stone in his palm before looking up at Albert with a smile. "So, what do you think?"
"It's interesting, but a bit too simple." Albert grinned. "I quite enjoyed Professor McGonagall's giant chessboard challenge. It was a fantastic display of Transfiguration magic. But my least favorite was definitely Professor Quirrell's troll—it was disgusting and unhygienic; the stench was overwhelming."
"I'm not particularly fond of trolls myself," Dumbledore admitted, winking at Albert. "They tend to be rather smelly creatures."
As Dumbledore turned to walk towards the mirror, Albert furrowed his brows. "This place isn't very safe. Are you planning to keep the stone here?"
"Yes, it will remain here. Greedy individuals seeking the stone won't be able to retrieve it from the Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore explained.
He then waved his wand, casting a complex spell that Albert couldn't quite follow, and the stone was once again hidden within the mirror.
"Professor," Albert said suddenly, "is this truly Mr. Nicolas Flamel's stone?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I've heard that the Sorcerer's Stone can turn any object into gold."
"And have you tried it?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Yes," Albert admitted readily. "After all, it's the legendary stone. But I failed."
"The Sorcerer's Stone cannot create gold," Dumbledore said, patting Albert's shoulder. "Now, let's be off. Your friends are waiting, and we shouldn't keep them worried."
There was no mention of points, neither added nor deducted. It was as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Dumbledore was as gentle and understanding as a grandfather dealing with a mischievous grandchild.
Dumbledore didn't need to drink the potion; he simply waved his wand, effortlessly parting the flames to allow them safe passage.
"Professor, is this the Fiendfyre?" Albert asked, glancing back at the black flames.
"No," Dumbledore replied, turning to look at Albert. "You should know from your studies that Fiendfyre is difficult to control, and a disaster when it gets out of hand. Many wizards throughout history have perished in the attempt to cast it."
"As I understand it, Professor Snape is quite skilled in Dark Magic, more so than Professor Quirrell, at least," Albert said, his tone odd. "He should be able to cast Fiendfyre and control it perfectly!"
"This isn't Fiendfyre," Dumbledore stated, "and I would never permit such dangerous magic to be used within the school."
"Those two so-called potions are actually the same, aren't they?" Albert blurted out.
"Why would you say that?"
"My intuition tells me those two potions are identical. It's just the answer written on the parchment, and the answer isn't always the truth." Albert spoke his mind.
Suddenly, he felt a twinge of pity for Professor Quirrell, who had been manipulated and deceived.
Dumbledore merely smiled and remained silent.
They reached the exit, where Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were already waiting.
"Gentlemen," Dumbledore addressed the four of them, "what happened tonight must remain a secret. Do not discuss it outside these walls."
"Of course," they chorused.
"You must swear that you will not tell anyone or intentionally reveal it to anyone," Dumbledore said sternly.
"We won't tell anyone or intentionally reveal it to anyone," they promised.
After Albert made the vow, he glanced at his panel and seemed to have triggered a new task, which he quickly checked while the others weren't looking. His eyes widened in surprise.
The new task was: The Leak?
(End of Chapter)
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