Chapter 111 Phoenix's Tears
"Quidditch is over today. He's crying and making a scene, wanting to go to London. I just can't do anything about it. You know me, I can never bring myself to refuse."
Vaughn was speechless.
That shameless old bastard actually used him as a shield behind his back!
Seeing that Professor McGonagall seemed to believe him and began to hesitate, Vaughn quickly coughed loudly and walked over.
Upon seeing Vaughn, Dumbledore showed no sign of surprise and cheerfully exclaimed, "Vaughn's here! We were just talking about you... By the way, Minerva, you don't need to worry about the school for now. I just asked Vaughn to explain the situation to Severus, and he will temporarily take over for you for the next few days."
"Vaughn, darling, what did Severus say?"
Vaughn gave a half-smile: "Professor Snape isn't very happy. He said he's more interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Of course, the headmaster position isn't unacceptable either. He's very dissatisfied with the current headmaster because that guy is a liar who even manipulates children!"
Upon hearing Vaughn's "outrageous" words, Professor McGonagall first glared at him sternly, then looked at Dumbledore with suspicion.
Unfortunately, Old Deng's skin, thickened over a century ago, was truly immeasurable. Unfazed by Vaughn's sarcasm and Professor McGonagall's suspicion, he calmly changed the subject, cheerfully saying:
"So what are we waiting for? Let's go! If we get to London now, we'll still have time to explore the Muggle night market. There are a few stalls that make really good desserts; I highly recommend you try them..."
As they were talking, Fawkes flew over and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder.
It kept its eyes straight ahead, trying its best not to look at Vaughn, but the look Vaughn gave it still made it feel like it was being pricked by a thorn in its side. So, after Professor McGonagall started rambling on, saying things like "Why not use Floo Powder?" while linking her arm with Dumbledore's, it got ready.
It then spread its wings, and with a burst of fire, it vanished with the three of them with a snap.
The eighth-floor corridor returned to silence. About ten minutes later, Fox finally "squeezed" out of the air again, panting heavily.
After resting for a while, it finally caught its breath, raised its head and looked around. Perhaps because that villain named Vaughn Weasley had left, it suddenly felt that the air at Hogwarts was especially sweet tonight.
But it knew that this good mood was just a temporary illusion caused by being away from the big villain; it had not escaped the other party's clutches!
Fox didn't fly back to the principal's office. Instead, it stood there preening its wings, and after a while, a meow came from the depths of the corridor.
Meow~
Fox looked up at the sound and saw a huge cat walking around the corner, its amber-like vertical pupils reflecting its shadow.
Tch, lackey of a great villain!
Unfortunately, Hogwarts is now a place of moral decay and twisted humanity, where evil walks openly among us, and even Dumbledore has been deceived and conspired with the devil!
Thinking of this, Fox felt sad and couldn't help but shed a tear.
Guoguocha, who was squatting in front of it, saw the teardrop in the corner of the phoenix's eye and immediately went closer. It had a small pouch hanging around its neck, which was usually used to hold dried fish, but today it had another purpose.
It clumsily opened its pocket, pulled out a small medicine bottle filled with wisps of smoke, and carefully held the bottle to Fox's eyes to catch the tears.
Throughout the entire process, Fox remained motionless, seemingly immersed in his own world of sorrow.
After Guoguocha finished its work, it "coincidentally" finished reminiscing about the bitterness and the sweetness, flapped its wings, and prepared to go back to sleep.
But fruit tea stopped it.
"Meow!"
Um?
Fox raised his head and stared intently at the fruit tea, watching it clumsily pull a bottle out of its pocket again.
Unlike before, the new bottle is small, only about two-thirds of an inch, roughly the length of a finger joint, yet it is exquisitely beautiful, shimmering with a golden luster.
Fox's eyes widened in disbelief.
Fructus Felicis!
One of the most precious and difficult-to-brew potions in the magical world, and in the eyes of the phoenix, who loves to devour herbs, it is an even more rare delicacy and tonic.
Fruit Tea carefully placed the small bottle of Felix Felicis on the ground, and its chubby paw gently pushed it toward Fox.
"Huh?"
Fox finally barked, a rather unpleasant sound, but the meaning was quite clear—was it for me?
Fruit Tea nodded: "Meow!"
reward?
Fox suddenly felt that the whole world had become bright.
What? Vaughn Weasley is a villain?
Who said that? That's utter slander!
That was clearly a wealthy and generous patron who was dressed entirely in gold!
Fawkes was overjoyed and felt the air at Hogwarts become sweet again. He was so excited that his feathers trembled, and inevitably one or two feathers fell out.
Guoguocha quietly swiped the fallen feather into her pocket, but Fox didn't care anymore. What was a tear and a few feathers?
Even if you pluck all the hair off it, what does it matter?
It's quite heartbreaking to think about. Fawkes followed Dumbledore for many years, but because of Dumbledore's mediocre potion-making skills, he rarely got to take Felix Felicis.
Snape was good at brewing, but that greasy man who never washed his hair in Fawkes' eyes never thought of caring about Lord Fawkes. Instead, every time Fawkes was reborn, he would come and pick up his feathers and blood for free.
After all these years, finally someone has remembered to reward it!
Overwhelmed with emotion, Fox couldn't help but shed two more tears.
Guoguocha also tacitly took out two more medicine bottles and collected the teardrops.
A phoenix and a cat, working together seamlessly, look exceptionally harmonious.
In the basement, Snape, sitting in front of the crucible, suddenly sneezed, snapping him out of his reverie and looking around in confusion.
Snape had been sitting there for a long time.
The brain surgery allowed him to control his facial expressions freely, but he couldn't control the turmoil in his heart.
Although Dumbledore's plan had begun before the start of the school year, and although he had long been prepared for Harry to confront Voldemort, Snape found himself less calm than he had anticipated when the moment finally arrived and the plan was about to be launched.
The potion simmering in the cauldron churned, releasing a rich fragrance. Usually, the aroma would calm even the most agitated heart.
But today, they failed, just like that night more than ten years ago.
"Take the God's Protection!"
In the dimly lit basement, as he whispered softly, a faint silver-blue light gradually appeared, so gentle that it seemed to contain endless tenderness and affection.
Snape didn't try to control himself; he just stared blankly as the light gradually intensified and a translucent doe emerged from it.
Its bright, pure eyes looked over, and Snape was momentarily lost in thought, before being jolted back to reality by a sudden pang in his heart.
Long ago, his guardian deity was not a doe, until more than ten years ago.
That night, his world collapsed. Ambition, resentment, ideals, obsession... all vanished with the death of his beloved.
In a sense, the Severus Snape of the past had already passed away that night, as he held Lily's body and wept bitterly.
What is alive now is merely an empty shell, refilled with love and regret!
Snape's cheeks felt a little warm. He raised his hand to wipe them, his expressionless face showing a few glistening drops of moisture on his palm in the faint glow of his Patronus.
He watched indifferently as they grew cold and then evaporated.
He turned his head away, no longer looking at the Patronus, and simply ordered, "...Go to the castle and keep an eye on Harry Potter..."
The doe gently touched him, and as he flinched as if burned, she lightly leaped and disappeared into the wall.
Snape was left alone, sitting blankly in the now dimly lit room, like a lifeless puppet.
...
"Harry, wait, why are you running so fast?"
Outside the castle, on the path leading from the edge of the Forbidden Forest to the castle's side gate, Hagrid, holding a lantern, struggled to keep up with Harry and his two companions who were running at full speed.
"You went to the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night to have the centaurs tell your fortunes? And the centaurs made prophecies about Harry and Voldemort? Quirrell is Voldemort? Merlin, can someone explain this to me? What's going on?"
The mountain path was difficult to walk on at night. Harry had already fallen several times. He had sprinted all the way here, and his lungs were burning with pain.
He wasn't in the mood to reply to Hagrid, and Hermione wasn't much stronger than him; she was barely holding on. Only Ron, though not particularly bright, had solid muscles and still had some strength left.
"Isn't it clear enough? Hagrid, Vulcan... The mysterious man isn't dead. He's currently inside Quirrell, possibly a remnant soul or something. He wants to steal the Philosopher's Stone to prolong his life—we told you long ago that someone wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone, but you adults just wouldn't believe us!"
Perhaps it was Ron's words that finally made Hagrid's thoughts clear, and he was frightened by the amount of information contained in them. Hagrid slipped and fell to the ground with a thud.
The trio had no time to pay him any attention and, despite Hagrid's cries of "Harry, don't be impulsive," they continued their arduous journey toward the castle.
When Harry finally reached the side gate of the castle, he was already out of breath, but the sense of urgency in his heart urged him not to stop and to push the door open immediately.
But Hermione stopped her: "What if we run into Filch if we just go in like this?"
"There's no time to worry about him now..."
"Filch won't listen to your explanations. He'll just think we're making excuses and then he'll keep arguing, which will only waste more time."
"What should we do then?" Ron's eyes widened, a wicked thought creeping into his mind: "Should we cast a curse on him?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at him: "Don't always think about casting curses on everyone. I know the Disillusionment Charm, although it's not very good, it should be enough to fool Filch..."
Ron urged, "Then hurry up and cast the spell!"
"Ronald, can you please let me finish?" Hermione said angrily.
Seeing that she was really angry, Ron didn't dare to speak and obediently shut up.
Hermione ignored him and looked at Harry: "Harry, do you have any plans? Should we talk to Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore?"
Harry blurted out, "Dumbledore, of course!"
"Do you know the password to the principal's office?"
"I…" Harry was speechless, realizing his mistake. Of course, he didn't know that the passwords for Hogwarts changed every day.
Although he had heard Vaughn say that the password to the headmaster's office was usually the name of a candy from the magical world.
But... there are so many candies in the wizarding world, who knows which one Dumbledore will use today? Besides, as a complete novice in magic, he doesn't even know all the candy names!
Hermione wasn't surprised to see him stunned; she was used to her two friends' recklessness and folly. "If you don't have a plan, could you listen to my thoughts?"
"Uh, of course."
Hermione nodded in satisfaction: "My suggestion is that we split up and go find Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Vaughn separately. Of course, our goal is still to make sure we find Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall and Vaughn know the password to the Headmaster's office. You have no objections to that, right?"
Harry shook his head blankly.
Professor McGonagall is the vice-principal, so she definitely knows the password; Vaughn is even more so.
"Very good." With a few words, Hermione, who had taken command of the small team, began to assign tasks: "Harry, you go find Professor McGonagall. I'll take care of Vaughn. I know the password for Slytherin House. As for Ron, you go to the headmaster's office on the eighth floor and wait for us. You can also try to guess the password. The password is the name of a candy in the wizarding world, which you know best among us."
Seeing Hermione's efficient and effective division of labor based on each person's characteristics, Harry suddenly realized that he hadn't really gotten to know her properly.
Until today, at least Harry had never realized that Hermione had such leadership qualities.
He felt a little strange, but he didn't reject it. On the one hand, Hermione was his good friend, and on the other hand, he was self-aware.
"Okay, I'll do as you say."
Seeing that he agreed, Ron, who was used to letting others make the decisions, naturally did not object.
Having finalized their plan, Hermione took a breath and began chanting the Disappearance Charm. As she inscribed the spell, the three of them vanished one by one.
Meanwhile, Snape, who was lost in thought in the basement, looked up and saw the Patronus return, bringing news that Harry Potter had returned to the castle.
"I'm sorry, Lily, Dumbledore said it's all for Harry's sake…"
Muttering to himself, Snape dismissed his Patronus and stood up.
When he stepped out of the basement, the Snape who would stare blankly, shed tears, and apologize was completely gone, leaving only a cold, lifeless shell.
He will use this body to once again contact and deceive his former master, to fulfill Dumbledore's plan, and also to fulfill the vow he made more than ten years ago in pain and regret.
Harry thought Hermione was probably exaggerating when she said she wasn't proficient with the Disillusionment Charm.
Not just unskilled, they're practically complete novices!
Professor McGonagall's office was on the second floor, the closest place to Harry, but Hermione's spell started to fail as soon as Harry got halfway there.
To make matters worse, he also saw Peeves, the prankster who had become mentally twisted ever since Vaughn taught him a lesson last year.
Unable to retaliate against Vaughn, it spent its days trying to cause trouble for other night-wandering wizards, even going so far as to cooperate with its "arch-enemy" Filch.
If it sees them, it will definitely yell and call Filch, and might even alert Quirrell, whose office is on the same floor but in another corridor.
While Peeves wasn't looking, Harry quickly hid behind a thick pillar.
All he can do now is pray that Peeves will leave quickly, or that someone will come and lure it away.
For example, those upperclassmen who know about the Hogwarts secret passages and love to explore them at night.
Unfortunately, perhaps due to the increasing pressure of recent exams, or perhaps because today's Quidditch match had already exhausted their enthusiasm, not a single one of the older students who used to frequently outwit Peeves and Filch was present today.
Instead, as time went by, Hermione's illusion spell completely lost its effect, and Peeves was about to wander into the vicinity.
Just as Harry's heart was racing, he was desperately trying to figure out what to do and regretting not bringing the Invisibility Cloak with him today.
A voice suddenly came from afar.
The voice trailed off, each word sounding like it was being squeezed out of the throat, as it spoke slowly and deliberately: "Pikachu—what are you doing here?"
It's Snape!
Harry pricked up his ears; he was sure he hadn't misheard. No one else in all of Hogwarts spoke like that old bat.
Sure enough, Peeves' wicked and smooth voice called out his name: "Severus—oh, no, you're not that crybaby anymore, you're now the esteemed Professor Snape, hee hee!"
"Oh, and Quirinas Quirrell too, the new crybaby, hee hee, what kind of wicked scheme are these two crybabies up to instead of sleeping?"
Quirrell?
Harry's heart skipped a beat!
I barely managed to resist the urge to peek out and could only try my best to concentrate and listen to what was happening over there.
He heard Snape say indifferently, like a still pond, "Get out of here, Peeves!"
Then, for some unknown reason, Snape did something, and Harry only heard a thud, followed by Peeves' furious cursing: "Damn Snape, damn Quirrell, Peeves will remember you, we'll see!"
Peeves ran away, flying right over Harry's head, scaring him so much that he cowered under a pillar, too afraid to utter a sound.
However, Peeves, who was grumbling, didn't notice him. Harry noticed that there was a faint black aura surrounding it, which seemed to make it very uncomfortable.
After Pippi left, the corridor fell silent.
Just as Harry was wondering if Snape and Quirrell had already left, he heard Quirrell's stammering voice: "Sissyphus, why did you call me out?"
Snape's voice deepened, reminding Harry of a snake slithering on the ground: "Quirinus, are you still after the Philosopher's Stone?"
"oh--"
Quirrell let out a choking sob, "I, I didn't..."
"Hmph, you can't fool my eyes, Quirinus." Snape scoffed. "I can only say that your stupidity has opened my eyes. You gave Hagrid that dragon, didn't you? You wanted to get the method to get past that three-headed dog from him?"
"It must have been a waste of your sunken brain. And I must congratulate you. Vaughn Weasley brought that dragon to Dumbledore, and that old madman easily connected it to Hagrid's big mouth. After that, he readjusted the mechanism of the Guardian Stone and eliminated the three-headed dog from the mechanism. What do you think, genius?"
But faced with Snape's sarcasm, Quirrell could only sob, "I didn't... I, I don't know what you... what are you saying..."
Bang!
With a muffled thud, Harry heard Quirrell groan in pain, seemingly being pinned against the wall by Snape.
"You should be grateful that you still have someone loyal to your master like me to clean up your messes. Otherwise, Dumbledore would have caught you red-handed long ago. You should be even more grateful that I have cultivated some connections in the Ministry of Magic over the years and, after much effort, finally managed to use Vaughn Weasley's situation to transfer him to the Ministry of Magic along with Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall."
"Tomorrow... no, it should be today, today. This is the longest I can buy. To do this, I will temporarily disrupt the operation of the Filu Network to ensure they don't come back."
"The biggest obstacle is gone. You'd better take advantage of today to complete the task your master assigned you!"
"This is the last chance before summer vacation. Dumbledore will move the Philosopher's Stone away during summer vacation, so if you mess this up again... you'll have to think carefully about what kind of place you should find as your grave!"
Snape's venomous words made Harry pale and break out in a cold sweat.
He suddenly felt that everything that had happened today was like a nightmare with no end in sight.
The centaur's prophecy, Voldemort, the cruel reality of Dumbledore's transfer, and... Snape's true colors!
He suddenly wanted to laugh at himself for having studied Occlumency under Snape. During that time, he had changed his opinion of Snape more than once, thinking that the Potions Professor was not a bad person. He thought his dislike for him was probably too biased!
You're such an idiot, a hopeless fool, Harry Potter!
Harry's heart clenched, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to scream, to vent his anger wildly.
But he controlled himself. He knew this was not the time to be resentful or willful. He had to pass on the information he had gained from this unexpected encounter to his friends.
He must protect the Philosopher's Stone on the day Vaughn, Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall leave!
Sometime later, Quirrell's sobs had ceased to be heard in the corridor. Harry peeked out and saw only a few candlesticks burning quietly in the direction from which the sounds had come. Quirrell and Snape were both gone.
Harry didn't dare to delay and quickly ran back to the Gryffindor Tower.
Harry didn't lose his mind.
Even though he felt like his chest was on fire, he could still tell what was most urgent.
He needed to return to the Gryffindor Tower, retrieve his Invisibility Cloak, and bring Ron and Hermione back—he needed to share information with his two friends; he needed their wisdom and their support.
Vaughn's existence prevented Harry from becoming arrogant and stubborn, as he had originally followed the path of his destiny, immersing himself in the unique "savior persona."
This is normal.
When there's a peer around you who completely outclasses you, even if they don't intend to influence you, their very existence serves as a constant reminder:
What are you so arrogant about? There's someone even more powerful than that!
Under Vaughn's relentless beatings and torment, Harry now has a very clear understanding of himself. He knows he is not a "savior," nor does he possess any powerful magic capable of killing Voldemort, and his mind isn't even that sharp.
Just like those ordinary little wizards around me, and even inferior to them in some aspects.
His only advantage is probably that, as the "boy who survived a great calamity," he is quite popular and at least holds a unique position in the hearts of professors and the principal.
But this sole advantage has vanished in the information Snape just revealed.
Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Vaughn were all transferred away from Hogwarts by the treacherous Snape. Harry was horrified to discover that none of his main supporters at Hogwarts were there!
Now, all he can rely on are Ron and Hermione.
Back in his dorm room, Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak from under his bed. Neville, in the next bed, was startled awake. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, saying, "Harry, what are you doing? You look terrible."
Harry wasn't sure what his face looked like, but he figured it must be a mess. He gave a perfunctory reply: "I'm fine, Neville, go back to sleep!"
He didn't invite Neville along because he didn't want to involve more people.
If possible, he didn't want to involve even Ron and Hermione.
Donning his invisibility cloak, Harry hurriedly went out.
...
Hermione stood in Vaughn's empty dorm room, looking completely bewildered.
Her journey was anything but smooth. First, she overestimated her Disillusionment Charm, and after going down to the dungeon from the first floor (Slytherin House only occupies a part of the Hogwarts dungeon, located in the dungeon maze), the spell began to lose its effectiveness.
Fortunately, even Filch and Mrs. Lorris rarely patrolled the dungeon, which was gloomy and dark, and even the animals were afraid of it.
Peeves never comes here, because there is a Blood Man Barrow here, the ghost that Peeves fears most.
This gave Hermione enough time to solve the problem of getting lost in the maze—the dungeon maze seemed to have a different route at night than during the day. It took her a long time to finally find the stone wall with the words "Seaview Room" carved by Vaughn, recite the password, and successfully enter.
But Vaughn wasn't there!
Hermione didn't know where he went, and there was no one she could ask.
Just when she was at her wit's end, she heard a light, hopping sound outside the door. She quickly ran out and saw Guoguocha jumping around and sniffing around, as if trying to figure out who had trespassed into its territory.
Upon seeing her, Guoguocha snorted, then meowed and happily rubbed against her feet.
Normally, Hermione would have hugged and rubbed it, but she wasn't in the mood today: "Fruit Tea, is Vaughn behind us?"
Hermione noticed the dew on Fruit Tea's body; it had come in from outside. A cat that can't speak can't answer commands, so someone needs to open the door for it.
But to Hermione's surprise, Fruit Tea shook its head repeatedly. It broke free from her embrace, squatted down, opened the little pouch hanging around its neck, and reached in with its chubby paws to rummage around. Surprisingly, it pulled out a Walkman just like hers.
The fruit tea sticks out its claw; carefully press the play button, and Vaughn's voice immediately rings out:
"Pureblood forever!"
This is Slytherin's latest password.
Hermione's expression was a little strange. The demonstration of the fruit tea was obvious; Vaughn wasn't with it, and might even have left Hogwarts.
But here's the problem: what kind of urgent matter could have prevented Vaughn from even notifying her and entrusting her with taking care of Guoguocha?
He had never done this before when he was in trouble.
As she was pondering, Guoguocha meowed twice and then pulled a transparent medicine bottle out of her pocket.
A misty fog floated in the bottle, but the fog wasn't the main point. The main point was a crystal-clear water droplet enveloped in the fog inside the bottle!
Hermione could sense that the water droplet contained a strange power!
This is...?
Seemingly understanding her confusion, Guoguocha put down the bottle, first flapping its two front paws, and then pointing the bottle opening at its eyes.
"Uh..." Hermione paused for a moment before realizing that the fruit tea seemed to be demonstrating the source of the water droplets in the bottle. Watching the fruit tea blink frequently and catch the droplets with the bottle opening, she tentatively asked, "Tears?"
"Meow!"
Fruit Tea shouted happily, and then began a new demonstration. It struggled a few times as if it were seriously injured and dying, lay down, and then put the bottle opening to its mouth, simulating the action of "drinking" water droplets. Then it immediately stood up with great energy and stared intently at Hermione.
Meow~
Do you understand?
Hermione understood, of course. Tears, drinking, resurrection... There might be many other magical things in the wizarding world that she didn't know about, but she happened to know one that had such powerful effects: tears. It was one of the symbols of Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, and was recorded in "Hogwarts: A History of the School".
The Phoenix's Tears!
The magical world has many medicines that are incredibly effective at healing injuries, such as White Pepper, which is learned in the first year. However, Phoenix Tears is still highly praised in "A School History" because, in addition to healing injuries, it can also detoxify and even alleviate some of the damage caused by dark magic.
Hermione was unaware of the conditions under which Phoenix Tears were formed, but from the records, they were undoubtedly very precious.
But now, a cat has taken three bottles of these precious treasures out of a bag of dried fish and placed them in front of her.
Fruit Tea's chubby paws pushed the three bottles of Phoenix Tears toward Hermione.
"For me?"
"Meow!" Fruit Tea nodded.
Hermione frowned slightly, thought for a moment, and said, "Did Vaughn ask you to give this to me?"
Obviously, a cat couldn't possibly possess such a treasure.
Moreover, in her memory, Guoguocha wasn't a very generous person.
Unless it is ordered by its master.
This time, Fruit Tea didn't respond, as if it had suddenly turned into an ordinary pet that couldn't understand human speech, and licked its paws: "Meow!"
Things started to get a little strange.
Leaving the Slytherin common room, Hermione stared blankly at the three bottles of Phoenix Tears in her hand, a strange sense of unease filling her heart.
Why did Vaughn suddenly leave?
And why did you give yourself Phoenix Tears, and even three bottles of them?
She couldn't understand it, but subconsciously felt it was strange.
Hermione!
Just then, she heard Harry's voice.
Turning around, they saw Harry and Ron's heads floating in the deep darkness of the dungeon maze a few steps away.
Hmm, it looks pretty scary at first glance.
That's an invisibility cloak; she's used it many times.
Hermione walked over, and Harry pulled up his Invisibility Cloak to cover her as well. He glanced at the Phoenix Tear in her hand and asked, "What is this? You didn't find Vaughn, did you?"
Chapter 112 Harry Ron: We don't seem to be of much use?
Hermione opened her mouth, but before she could answer, Harry rattled off the information he had just received: "...Snape, he betrayed Vaughn and Dumbledore's trust. I heard it with my own ears. He schemed to transfer Vaughn, Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall to the Ministry of Magic, creating an opportunity for Quirrell to steal the Philosopher's Stone."
Ron chimed in, "Hmph, I've always said that Old Bat isn't a good guy. You didn't believe me a few months ago, but now you know, right?"
"Alright, Ron, there's no point in saying that now."
Harry rubbed his forehead. For some reason, the scar started to hurt again. He endured the discomfort and looked at Hermione: "Quirok will probably make his move soon. What should we do now?"
He hoped that his smartest friend could come up with some ideas.
But Hermione seemed not to hear, remaining completely dazed.
Hermione?
"Oh…" Hermione finally responded, indicating that she was listening. She thought for a moment and asked, "Are you sure Snape threatened Quirrell?"
"Of course, I heard it with my own ears, is there a problem?"
"...No, I was just thinking, before Ferrenze told us that Quirrell was the Man of Mystic, why did Snape still dare to threaten him?"
"What's so strange about that?" Ron said nonchalantly. "Prophecies are usually rhetorically crafted, full of mystical and mysterious details. Ferenze also said that the mysterious man is in a bad situation. Perhaps Quirrell obtained a dark magic item containing his remnant soul, which is why the prophecy considers him one with it."
He makes a lot of sense. Of the three, he is the only one who comes from the magical world and knows the most about all kinds of magical legends and stories.
Hermione didn't argue, saying, "That's actually good news. At least until dawn, we don't have to worry about Quirrell stealing the Philosopher's Stone."
"Huh? Why?" Harry asked, bewildered.
"This shows that Quirrell and Snape are not on the same page. Snape doesn't know the true situation of the Man of the Void, and Quirrell is hiding things from him. This is a clear sign of distrust. How could Quirrell immediately believe and act on the plan of someone he doesn't trust?"
Hermione shrugged: "I think Quirrell will definitely try to find out if Dumbledore has really left Hogwarts, but whatever his method is, whether he asks or probes, he can only wait until daytime, unless he is willing to take the same risks as last year."
ah--
Hearing her say that, Harry and Ron felt their anxiety immediately ease.
Quirrell certainly won't take the same risks as last year, otherwise he wouldn't have remained in seclusion for several months.
Harry slammed his fist in excitement: "That means we still have a few hours."
"What can you do in a few hours?" Ron's mood had improved, but he wasn't as optimistic as the others. "Sigh, that treacherous old bat destroyed the Floo Network. Otherwise, we could have used the Floo Network to send a message to the Ministry of Magic."
"Can't we use an owl?"
"Don't joke around, Harry. By the time the owl delivers the letter, it will be too late."
No way this works, no way that works, Harry started to get impatient again. He chewed on his nails and thought for a moment, then said fiercely, "If we can't think of any other way, then we'll do it ourselves! Quirrell wants the Philosopher's Stone, right? We'll take it from him!"
Looking at Harry, Ron's eyes widened in admiration for his wild imagination: "Are you crazy?"
"What else can we do? Are we just going to wait for hours, or even a whole day, and watch Quirrell confirm that Dumbledore isn't there, then casually pick up the Philosopher's Stone and cure Voldemort?"
"No, that's not right... that's too dangerous..."
Ron said in a panic, looking at Hermione, hoping that his usually calm and rational friend could help him persuade Harry.
But Hermione simply kept her head down, lost in her own thoughts.
Phoenix Tears, Resurrection...
Why did Vaughn ask Fruit Tea to give him these things? And exactly three bottles?
Thinking about it further, this wasn't the first time Vaughn had given her strange items. He had previously given her some potions that could prevent poison or fire, as well as a recorder that recorded unicorn language.
It was as if... he had foreseen something.
Hermione was well aware that Vaughn had a poor talent for divination. The astronomy professor had commented on their papers more than once, regretfully and euphemistically saying that the two of them lacked spirituality in divination.
So, if it wasn't a prophecy, does it mean that Vaughn knew this day would come? That he knew she might be in danger one day, and for some reason, he couldn't be there to explain, which is why he sent her the gift?
Let's expand on this further... Were Vaughn, Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall really transferred away by Snape using his so-called connections within the Ministry of Magic?
She knew that Vaughn had complained more than once that Snape was a "nerd" who had been a Potions Master for more than ten years but hadn't even earned a Level 3 Merlin Medal, and was not as good as a lousy writer.
That lousy author is Gilderoy Lockhart. Two months ago, he lavishly praised the Werewolf Affairs Committee in the newspaper, saying that Vaughn had done what he had always wanted to do, and promoted his book, "Wandering with Werewolves."
Vaughn was very unhappy about this and told her that he would convene the Order of Merlin and Wizengamo to re-examine Lockhart's 3rd Class medal when he had time.
That was the first time Hermione had ever seen Vaughn dislike someone so much.
"Snape had no connection to the Ministry of Magic; he deceived Quirrell. Vaughn and Dumbledore left voluntarily, so what was their purpose…"
The girl meticulously analyzed all the suspicious points and clues, arriving at a conclusion that chilled her to the bone and left her bewildered: "...They're luring Quirrell to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"
Hermione was in a state of confusion. Of course she believed Vaughn and Dumbledore, but why were they doing this?
In her opinion, Dumbledore could have easily captured Quirrell, or even Voldemort, so why did he go through all that trouble?
Just then, a commotion broke out around her. Hermione snapped out of her reverie and heard Harry and Ron arguing.
"Don't you understand? Ron, if Quirrell gets the Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort will come back..."
"Don't call that person by his name, Harry!"
"Why can't I call him?" Harry's face flushed red. "Yes, he's terrifying, everyone's scared, and I'm scared too. Tonight in the Forbidden Forest, when I found out that my fate was intertwined with his, I was too scared to speak. But… but will fear and running away solve the problem? If we let Quirrell steal the Philosopher's Stone because we're scared, will Voldemort let us go when he comes back?"
"Ron, you grew up in the wizarding world. You know better than us how crazy he was back then and how much harm he caused to wizards. Do you remember? The deaths of my parents and my relatives, and Neville's parents going insane, were all because of him!"
"It's not a question of danger anymore. Once Voldemort returns, where will we be safe? Would you rather kneel at his feet and kiss his robes?"
"I can't do it! No matter how scared I am, I won't!"
These words left Ron speechless and his face flushed red.
He grew up listening to the legends of Voldemort, which included not only the powerful Dark Lord but also the ruthless Death Eaters under his command. He even knew that his mother's two older brothers, Gideon and Fabian, had died fighting the Death Eaters.
Hermione also looked at Harry, amazed that he could speak so clearly and logically.
However, it was still too reckless.
In the past, she would not have agreed to such a crazy thing as trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Quirrell. The three of them were just first-year students. How could they possibly stand up to an adult wizard?
but...
"I agree with Harry; we can't let Quirrell get the Philosopher's Stone!"
"Hermione, you..."
Hermione ignored their surprised expressions and reached into her handbag to touch the three bottles of Phoenix Tears inside.
The reason she suddenly agreed was not because of them, but because it suddenly occurred to her...
Perhaps Vaughn and Dumbledore deliberately left so that Harry and Quirrell could clash?
At least, she believed Vaughn wouldn't harm her!
Ron looked at Harry, then at Hermione, and sighed, "I always thought that if I ever died, it would be Fred and George who killed me. I never imagined that what they hadn't even finished might be beaten to it by you guys!"
Having just vented his anger and his righteous indignation subsided, Harry realized his attitude was inappropriate and awkwardly said, "Ron, I understand your fear, you don't have to..."
"No!"
Ron interrupted him, "We're friends, how could I watch you two go and die like idiots? No matter what difficulties we face, we should face them together!"
"Ron…"
"Harry…"
The two called out to each other with deep emotion, almost to the point of tears.
Looking around, Hermione suddenly felt a little superfluous...
...
Harry suggested they should head to the fourth floor immediately and get the Philosopher's Stone before Quirrell.
But Hermione did not agree this time.
"Dumbledore redesigned the mechanism, and the information you overheard confirms this. Cerberus is no longer here, and we know absolutely nothing about the mechanism now. If we rush in, no one knows what will happen."
"So what should we do?"
"Of course, we'll have Quirrell scout ahead for us." Hermione said confidently, regaining command. "Go back and rest first. During the day, keep an eye on Quirrell. He'll definitely try to find out if Dumbledore has left. When he decides to make his move, we'll follow him."
"How are we supposed to monitor them? Wear an invisibility cloak all day?" Ron asked, habitually finding fault.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him: "I'll ask Fruit Tea for help. Of course, it would be even better if Ronald's fat rat could behave."
Ron protested, "It's not a fat rat, it's called Scabbers. I'm warning you, you'd better not bring Fruit Tea to the Gryffindor Tower!"
"snort!"
Ultimately, amidst their bickering and arguing, Harry reluctantly agreed to Hermione's suggestion—Ron was too unreliable, and he could only trust Hermione.
Back in his dorm room, Ron, who had seemed terrified earlier, started snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Brave Harry, however, tossed and turned, unable to sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of why the centaurs called him and Voldemort twins of destiny, and what the specific proverb was.
I wonder what the mechanism Dumbledore used to protect the Philosopher's Stone would look like.
He finally managed to fall asleep just before dawn, but then, as if he had only closed his eyes for a moment, he was woken up again by Ron.
When he woke up, the sun was already up, and Ron said, full of energy, that he had worried all night.
Looking dejected and sporting dark circles under his eyes, Harry didn't want to talk.
He was somewhat annoyed that he always suffered from insomnia whenever something happened, and even more worried that his current state might hinder their operation today.
Fortunately, Hermione, who was waiting for them in the common room, gave him a bottle of euphoria.
"I knew you'd have trouble sleeping. This is what Vaughn gave me before, and it works great."
The effect is indeed fantastic.
After drinking it, Harry immediately beamed with joy, all his worries vanished, and he didn't even want to care about Quirrell anymore. All he wanted was to go boating on the Black Lake, take a walk in the Forbidden Forest, and enjoy the beauty of the world.
Ron and Hermione had to drag him to Madam Pomfrey, who scolded them and forced Harry to drink several bottles of potions through his mouth to suppress the effects of the euphoric potion.
As Harry walked from the school hospital to the dining hall, he was still shaken: "The terrible effects of the potion, and the smell of Madam Pomfrey's potion, were even worse than Quirrell's garlic scarf!"
Hermione didn't want to make that kind of analogy: "What have you been thinking about all night?"
"Too many…" Harry sighed. "Did you ask Fruit Tea for help? We have to keep an eye on him the whole day. Once he's sure Dumbledore is gone, he'll definitely start making his move."
Fruit Tea was willing to help, and Hermione only contributed two packets of dried fish.
However, it was of little use, because as soon as the trio entered the restaurant, they discovered that the entire school knew that Dumbledore had left.
"Vaughn Weasley and Dumbledore are meeting with representatives of Ilvermorny at the Ministry of Magic late at night! Merlin, late at night?"
"Maybe that means they haven't adjusted to the time difference?"
"What is Iphamony? A magic school? Good heavens, I always thought Hogwarts was the only school in the world!"
"Idiot, do you think the world you're talking about only consists of England, Scotland, and Ireland?"
Everyone was engrossed in discussing the freshly printed Daily Prophet, and the trio noticed that Professor Quirrell was also reading the newspaper.
The pages that had already been turned over now featured their front-page headlines, showing Vaughn and Dumbledore smiling broadly, posing with a middle-aged man.
For some reason, I always felt that the middle-aged man had darker dark circles under his eyes than Harry, and his smile looked very bitter.
"Wolfsbane Potion and the Werewolf Affairs Committee are now attracting worldwide attention. Mr. Josiah Potter, representing Ilfamoni, highly praises Mr. Vaughn Weasley, believing that his two initiatives have profoundly influenced the magical landscape worldwide, especially in North America."
"'Werewolfism has always been a serious threat to the North American wizarding world. A large part of the tension between North American wizards and Muggles is due to the proliferation of werewolves. Now, I see hope for the easing of this problem,' Josiah Potter commented."
"It is understood that the North American wizarding world is currently in turmoil. On that land, the once infamous Salem anti-witch movement has been revived. The Magical Congress has had to use harsh measures to strengthen their determination to protect the Statute of Secrets, but this has also led to a large number of Muggle-born wizards standing on the opposite side."
"The shadow of war seems to be looming over North America."
"At this very moment, Ilfamoni has sent a representative to invite Mr. Vaughn Weasley to visit him for academic purposes during the summer vacation. It seems that he hopes to use the werewolf issue as a breakthrough to peacefully resolve the dispute and end the war. This is the most significant international invitation since Mr. Vaughn Weasley established the Werewolf Affairs Committee."
The trio rushed to the Gryffindor table, borrowed newspapers from their classmates, and published a detailed front-page report on the meeting.
"Hey Harry, this guy also has the last name Potter!" Ron said, pointing to Josiah Potter's name with surprise.
Harry didn't care much; he was more interested in "Evermony".
Like most Muggle-born young wizards, this was the first time he had ever learned that there were other magical societies and magic schools in the world.
Such questions are usually Hermione's moment to shine, and this time was no exception. She explained to her two friends, "Evermony is a magic school in America. It is said that its founder longed for Hogwarts when she was young, but for various reasons she was unable to enroll. After being stranded in North America, she eventually created Evermony based on the Hogwarts model."
"I heard that there are also four houses there, and even the Sorting Ceremony is very similar to Hogwarts."
Listening to her explanation, Ron asked in bewilderment, "Where did you learn all these secrets from?"
Hermione raised her neck like a swan: "The American edition of 'The History of Magic' by Ronald, that big book was our main textbook for grades 1, 2 and 3. I think if you hadn't been playing all the time and had flipped through the pages more often, you could have seen these'secrets' too!"
"you..."
"Alright, you two," Harry stopped them, giving them a wink to look towards the professors' table. "Quirok has finished his meal and looks like he's about to leave."
The two looked over and saw that Quirrell had indeed put away his newspaper, pushed aside his plate, and was talking to Professor Flitwick, who was sitting next to him.
Ron lowered his voice and asked warily, "Could Professor Flitwick be one of his accomplices?"
"Suspicious!" Hermione rolled her eyes at him, looked for a moment, then suddenly got up and walked towards the professor's seat.
Harry and Ron were startled. They wanted to stop her, but were afraid of making a commotion and attracting more attention, so they could only watch nervously as Hermione ran to the professors' table.
In the noisy restaurant, only her sweet voice could be faintly heard:
"Professor Quirrell, Professor Flitwick, I'm not very familiar with the'Salem anti-witch movement' mentioned in the newspapers. Could you please tell me..."
"Merlin, has she gone mad? What is she trying to do?"
Ron suddenly understood what Ferrenze meant by the ostrich mentality yesterday. Now, he just wanted to shove his face into a plate so he wouldn't have to see the foolish Hermione get hit by the Dark Wizard's Killing Curse.
Of course, it never happened.
Hermione exchanged a few words with Quirrell and Flitwick, then bowed and returned unharmed.
Looking at the trembling Harry and Ron, she snorted: "Quirok will probably make his move during lunch break. Keep an eye out, and we'll hide nearby and follow him in."
Harry stammered, "How...how did you know?"
"Some conversation skills, Harry. I pretended not to know about the Salem Anti-Witchcraft Movement and asked Quirrell and Professor Flitwick to explain. The cause of this historical event was due to many factors, and it cannot be explained in a few words. Therefore, I asked to ask them separately in private."
"This is very much in line with my usual way of seeking knowledge, and Professor Flitwick immediately agreed, but Quirrell said he needed to take a lunch break and asked me to come to his office later."
At this point, the girl said smugly, "See, he determined the timing of his actions with ease—I don't believe that he would be in the mood to take a nap once he knew Dumbledore wasn't at school!"
Harry and Ron were dumbfounded, and suddenly felt that Hermione was incredibly intelligent, brave, and great at this moment!
At least neither of them could think of such a way to test her, nor could they do what she did, smiling and calmly in front of Quirrell.
The two looked at each other, speechless, and inexplicably felt as if they were useless.
...
Ministry of Magic, Division of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation.
In the spacious drawing room, Vaughn and Dumbledore were having lunch with Ilfamoni, the representative. Mr. Potter, sporting heavy dark circles under his eyes, listlessly stirred the "British cuisine" on his plate with his spoon, forcing himself to speak with great enthusiasm:
"...I have a deep connection with England. Did you two notice my surname? That's right, I share the same family as your famous Harry Potter, Lynfred of Stinchcomb. He is our common ancestor. It wasn't until about 300 years ago that our branch separated from England and crossed the ocean to America."
"Life in the New World was not good. North America was full of Puritans and Purgers. The former were extreme Muggles brainwashed by religion, and the latter were the descendants of despicable wizard hunters. To fight against their persecution, my great-great-great-grandfather, Mr. Abraham Potter, became one of the first twelve Aurors of the Magical Congress…"
"Those were 12 great and respectable men who protected wizards from harm in that hellish land. They fought their entire lives, but only two of them were able to enjoy their old age in peace. The rest died in the terrible war... that hateful war!"
Josiah Potter wiped his eyes with deep emotion, then looked at Dumbledore expectantly: "I heard that Harry Potter has enrolled. I wonder if I will have the honor of visiting him at Hogwarts? He's the only one left in the main line of business, how pitiful!"
Dumbledore smiled and politely declined: "Harry is just an ordinary child, Potter..."
"Call me Josiah, dear Dumbledore!"
"Okay, Josiah, like I said, Harry is not an adult yet. The title of Savior is just a compliment from everyone. In reality, he is just an ordinary little wizard who can't help you at all, and it's impossible for him to affect the important matters."
"If you are truly sincere in inviting Vaughn, I suggest you consider Vaughn's opinion more carefully, instead of always trying to please a useless old man like me!"
Josiah Potter glanced at Vaughn after hearing Dumbledore's rather blunt words.
In the analysis of Iphamoni and some departments of the Magical Congress, they did not believe that the wolfsbane potion was developed by a 12-year-old child.
Not to mention that the 12-year-old was also a political strategist, even defeating Cornelius Fudge, who had been in politics for many years.
It is widely believed that Vaughn Weasley was actually Dumbledore's mouthpiece, a puppet that allowed the White Lord to remain behind the scenes and vie for power!
That's why Ilfamoni deliberately chose Josiah Potter when selecting a representative—everyone knows that Harry Potter is Dumbledore's darling.
Even though Dumbledore made it clear at that moment, Josiah only thought that the other party was deliberately avoiding suspicion.
As a seasoned politician, he certainly wouldn't show any unusual reaction. Instead, he continued Dumbledore's words, smiling as he said to Vaughn, "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, I didn't mean to ignore your opinion. As I told your country's journalists, I have a great admiration for you and sincerely invite you to raise any opinions you may have. We will certainly give them our full consideration!"
Ha, diplomatic language, all bureaucratic jargon!
Vaughn gave a half-smile, saying that his so-called "all-out consideration" was basically just empty talk; take it with a grain of salt, and anyone who takes it seriously is a fool.
So he didn't want to waste any more words and politely replied, "I have no objection and don't think there's anything to talk about. Mr. Josiah Potter, let's end lunch here. I suggest you learn more about the English magical world recently, and first find out who invented the wolfsbane potion and who founded the Werewolf Affairs Committee."
"If you still can't grasp the main point at our next meeting, then I regret to inform you that I am not destined to meet Iphamoni!"
After saying this, he got up and left, and Dumbledore followed him with a smile. Also leaving with him were high-ranking officials from the Department of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation of the Ministry of Magic.
In the blink of an eye, only Josiah Porter remained in the huge drawing room, his expression one of astonishment, unable to maintain his elegant demeanor any longer.
Stepping out of the drawing room, Dumbledore flicked his fingers, casting a spell around him and Vaughn to ensure their conversation would not be leaked:
"Don't be sad, darling. People always have some prejudice against age. They subconsciously question the young and blindly believe in the old."
"I'm not upset," Vaughn said calmly. "I was just using him as an excuse. I don't care what he thinks. Even if we talk about real things later, the power is in my hands—they need me, not the other way around!"
Dumbledore nodded and said nothing more; Vaughn had always maintained a good attitude.
He then turned to the real business: "The news published in the Daily Prophet should have already spread throughout Hogwarts. When do you think Quirinus will make his move?"
"Lunch break!" Vaughn said confidently.
Dumbledore laughed heartily: "Just as I thought. So, boy, what is your reasoning?"
"What else could it be? Quirrell is already a nervous wreck. Voldemort is like a giant leech sucking his life out. In his current state, he has no ability to make any more mistakes. Even if he has no other choice, he has to be as cautious as possible because he only has this one chance left!"
As he listened, Dumbledore's smile gradually faded, and he sighed.
He still couldn't get over Quirrell's downfall, and this trial, whether successful or not, marked the end of his former student's life.
Although this is the fate that those who help the demon king do evil deserve, it is still inevitable for an old person to feel sad when their child is outlived.
He didn't say much after that, just wandered around the Ministry of Magic, and Vaughn silently accompanied him.
Until one moment, the two suddenly felt a connection—
The door to the trial space was opened.
The long-prepared checkpoints are about to welcome their first batch of "guests"!
...
On a hot summer afternoon, the air is so stuffy that it makes you want to drowsily sleep.
Wearing invisibility cloaks and hiding at the entrance to the fourth-floor checkpoint, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to dilute a bottle of euphoria with water, sharing a cup among themselves, just to barely fight off their drowsiness.
Harry's condition was more serious, after all, he hadn't rested well, and the boring wait made his eyelids feel like they were weighed down with lead.
In a state between dreaming and waking, a violent shaking suddenly woke him up.
Harry opened his bloodshot eyes and saw Ron pushing him with his lips tightly pursed, but his gaze was fixed on the Invisibility Cloak. He followed his gaze and saw Quirrell, wearing a hooded black robe and looking haggard, walking hurriedly towards him.
He was very alert, and would sometimes suddenly stop and turn around to make sure no one was following him.
However, his anxiety still affected his judgment. When he reached the door of the entrance room where the three-headed dog was originally kept, he was only 3-5 centimeters away from the trio hiding there.
The three of them had to cover their mouths tightly to avoid coughing, sneezing or other unexpected situations.
They watched silently as Quirrell opened the door and went inside. They immediately stood up, ignoring the soreness and numbness in their legs from sitting for so long, and stumbled after him, wearing invisibility cloaks.
Before entering, Harry had almost no knowledge or concept of the mechanisms protecting the Philosopher's Stone.
In the past, he only knew that the first level was Hagrid's three-headed dog. Now, Dumbledore has canceled the three-headed dog level and all the mechanisms have been redone. The seemingly small room contains a great deal of unknowns.
On the way here, he, Ron, and Hermione had discussed the function of the mechanism.
Ron believed that inside were some ancient iron or bronze golems, incredibly strong and impervious to weapons, which were the tools that wizards used to fight Muggles hundreds of years ago.
Hermione thought there might be "intellectual challenges" inside, designed to test the intruder's intelligence.
Harry doesn't know who's right.
Just as they followed Quirrell, pushed open the door, and felt as if they had stepped into empty space, plummeting downwards, Harry suddenly realized that they were all wrong.
"Hmm—"
Harry, who had been falling for an unknown amount of time and whose mind had been blank for an unknown amount of time, felt solid beneath his feet again, and everything before him had changed.
Before him lay an enormous, dazzlingly luxurious hall.
He stood alone in the hall like a tiny ant; Hermione, Ron, and Quirrell, who had come in earlier, were all nowhere to be seen.
Only a stone tablet stood silently before him, towering as if it could pierce through the endless dome.
A faint light shimmered on the stone tablet. Harry impatiently wiped his glasses, looked closely, and discovered that the glowing part had several lines of text engraved on it:
Welcome to the Trial Space!
Please follow these rules:
"First, magic is not allowed here."