Once the students had all filled their bellies, the main courses gradually vanished from the plates, replaced by an assortment of desserts. When the desserts, too, disappeared completely, the opening feast of the new school year came to an end. Dumbledore rose to his feet once more, and the Great Hall returned to silence.
"Now that we are all well fed and watered, I must ask for your attention while I say a few words," he said. "At the start of term, I wish to remind you of a few matters."
"First-years should note that the forest on the school grounds is strictly forbidden to all students. This is something some of our older students would also do well to remember." Dumbledore's bright eyes flicked pointedly in the direction of the Weasley twins.
"Secondly, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes. Quidditch team tryouts will take place during the second week of term. Anyone wishing to try out for their House team should contact Madam Hooch."
"Finally, I must tell you that anyone who does not wish to suffer an untimely and most painful death should avoid the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor."
A ripple of muffled laughter spread through the student body.
Avada gave a small nod to himself. For now, he intended to obey that rule.
As for how long "for now" would last, that depended on how quickly he completed his research—and whether he could come up with a convincing enough argument to persuade Dumbledore.
To be honest, he had always found Dumbledore's trap to lure Voldemort utterly absurd. The Philosopher's Stone—something so incredibly important—was not kept on his person, nor even within his constant sight, but instead deliberately placed somewhere else. And guarding it was a series of challenges that, aside from the three-headed dog, were all barely above first-year level. Mind you, they were challenges, not barricades or deadly traps—things that could be passed through quite legally.
Most importantly of all, the location was announced to the entire school, staff and students alike, without an explicit prohibition against entering. Anyone who didn't know better might think Hogwarts had secretly unlocked some kind of hidden dungeon, with the Philosopher's Stone as the final reward.
Avada was willing to bet that long before Harry and the others ever set foot there, countless Gryffindor upper-years had already tested the waters. There were probably even a few highly skilled students who could clear the whole thing outright. As for what kind of punishment Dumbledore might mete out after watching them complete the gauntlet—well, that was anyone's guess.
What's more, Dumbledore had underestimated Voldemort's ability to escape while in a wraith-like state. In the original events, even when Voldemort had been driven into a corner, he still managed to slip out of Dumbledore's grasp. That was likely why, despite knowing full well that this was an obvious trap, Voldemort still had the confidence to take a shot at it.
Surely no one believed that the Dark Lord had been reduced to such a level of incompetence that he couldn't even recognize a trap like this.
And Avada himself might—just might—possess a means of restraining Voldemort in his wraith form. How viable that method was depended entirely on whether he could successfully analyze that dark-golden mass of mutated mental energy. If he succeeded, he could concoct a story and invite Dumbledore to cooperate in his fishing expedition. If he failed… then he would simply behave like a good student and let this year pass quietly.
After the familiar chaos of the Hogwarts School Song came to an end, the students followed their respective House prefects toward their common rooms.
With Tonks having graduated and left, the Hufflepuff group was now led by the newly appointed prefect, Gabriel Truman. He called for the first-years to keep close, leading them to the stack of barrels near the kitchens, where he once again explained how to enter the common room—and what would happen if they got it wrong.
Unfortunately, this year's Hufflepuffs were a bit lacking in imagination. Not a single one managed to intuit the true "use" of the vinegar.
Once they were back in the familiar warmth of the common room, the prefects took the new students to find their dormitories and explained the various facilities. The older students, meanwhile, gathered in small groups around the fireplace, chatting animatedly about the sights of the opening feast.
"So Harry Potter really did go to Gryffindor. Pity he didn't come to our House."
Someone sighed lazily, only to be immediately countered.
"Well, there's no need to dwell on it. If the Sorting Hat put him in Gryffindor, that means it's where he belongs. We should be happy that the savior found a sense of belonging…"
"All right, fair enough. At least it wasn't Slytherin. I've heard some of the things they were saying about Harry—if any of it was true… Merlin, it doesn't bear thinking about."
"That's just wishful thinking on their part. Oh, right—what do you think the Headmaster meant by that last line?"
"'Anyone who does not wish to suffer an untimely and most painful death should avoid the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor'… So if I do wish to suffer an untimely and painful death, I can just go in whenever I want?"
"Hiss—"
Sitting there with one leg crossed over the other, quietly sipping his milk tea, Avada curled his lip. Even Hufflepuffs—the most straightforward of them all—had noticed how strange that statement was. At this rate, there would definitely be Gryffindors sneaking out for a nighttime adventure tonight, charging straight in without hesitation.
He wished them the best of luck. A three-headed dog was no easy opponent, and its weaknesses were scarcely known. Avada reckoned that only a top-tier seventh-year—someone who had taken Care of Magical Creatures and possessed some kind of secret family knowledge—might have a chance of getting past Fluffy. And with how busy seventh-years were, that moment would likely be delayed for a long time, perhaps never coming at all.
As for brute force, Avada had dismissed that option from the very beginning. If even Snape had come off worse, how could anyone expect students who hadn't even graduated to handle a three-headed dog?
"Forget it. Back to research."
Shaking his head, he let out a deliberately exaggerated yawn and left the common room for his dormitory. Pulling out a notebook, he began scribbling diagrams and notes.
Earlier, when he had seen the Thestrals by the carriages, he had resolved to focus all his efforts on breaking the seal on the massive black tome. But after entering the Great Hall and observing Voldemort's mental energy, he realized how impulsive that decision had been. Dealing with Voldemort was clearly the more pressing matter. What he needed to do now was analyze that mutated mental force as quickly as possible and determine whether his idea could actually work.
And there was another issue. The professor knew his true name. As a Dark Lord who could casually use green light as a torch, would Voldemort take an interest in him?
To analyze Voldemort's mental energy, Avada would need to deliberately approach Professor Quirrell and come into closer contact with him—and with the Voldemort attached to the back of his head. How, exactly, should he present himself?
Quirrell was on a mission, after all. He couldn't possibly devote all his time to answering students' questions. So how could Avada seek him out without arousing suspicion, without annoying him through excessive inquiries, and without prompting avoidance? And how should he respond if Voldemort's curiosity or attention were drawn to him? These were all problems he needed to solve.
The one thing that reassured him was his mastery of Occlumency. Judging by the original events, Voldemort still retained the ability to use Legilimency. But even at the height of his power, Voldemort had been unable to penetrate Snape's Occlumency. Now he was vastly weakened, and Avada's Occlumency was a direct imitation of Snape's. With Magical Perception constantly monitoring fluctuations in Voldemort's mental energy, all of this greatly enhanced his own safety.
(End of Chapter)