"Phew…"
Avada dispelled the Disillusionment Charm before reaching the eighth floor. By the time he arrived before the stone gargoyle, he was breathing hard, his clothes plastered to his back with sweat before he even realized it.
"Merlin… that was way too thrilling…"
Using Occlumency to deceive a Dark Lord who had once dominated the wizarding world felt like walking a tightrope over a cliff. Every step had to be taken with absolute caution. Every trace of emotional fluctuation had to be perfectly disguised. Even facial expressions and micro-movements had to be controlled down to the finest detail.
In the end, though, his Occlumency—and his acting—had prevailed. He had successfully earned Voldemort's trust.
Of course, absolute trust was impossible. Voldemort trusted no one but himself, and viewed his followers as nothing more than tools.
Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, Avada stepped closer to the stone gargoyle and tested cautiously,"Sherbet Lemon?"
The gargoyle didn't move.
"Lemon grapefruit tea?"
"Cockroach Cluster?"
"Chocolate Frog?"
"Butterbeer?"
"Mint ice cream?"
"…Stop guessing."
The stone gargoyle rolled its eyes. "This time the dessert was imported from abroad. The name's in a rather obscure Italian dialect."
Avada: "..."
"Fine. Worst case, I'll just ask another professor."
He turned, ready to head toward the Ravenclaw Head of House's office—Flitwick's office was on the same floor as the Headmaster's.
"Wait."
The stone gargoyle suddenly stopped him, its expression strange. "Dumbledore has granted you permission to enter."
With that, it hopped aside. The wall behind it slowly split open, revealing a spiraling staircase leading upward.
Dumbledore knew I was coming? What's going on?
Avada was startled. He quickly reviewed everything he had done, wondering if he had exposed himself somewhere. Whether releasing the troll or later casting the Imperius Curse on it, he had maintained Magical Perception the entire time, carefully scanning his surroundings. He hadn't sensed any additional life force or mental presence. He had even avoided the portraits using the Disillusionment Charm.
Still uneasy, he stepped onto the moving staircase. At the top, he came to a wooden door and knocked softly.
"Come in."
The aged yet gentle voice came through the door. Avada took a deep breath, turned the handle, and stepped inside—for the first time since enrolling, he entered the Headmaster's office.
It was a spacious, beautiful circular room, filled with all sorts of whimsical little noises. Curious silver instruments sat atop a long-legged table facing the door, spinning and puffing out small jets of smoke. The walls were lined with portraits of former headmasters, each snoozing gently in their frames—whether truly asleep or merely pretending was anyone's guess.
A massive desk with claw-shaped legs stood in the center. On a shelf behind it rested a battered, wrinkled wizard's hat—the Sword of Gryffindor's scabbard… no, the Sorting Hat.
Beside it, perched on a golden stand, was a magnificent scarlet bird—the phoenix Fawkes, whom Avada had encountered once before.
Avada couldn't help but look at Fawkes a few more times. After optimizing his talents and acquiring vast magical knowledge, he could now faintly trace Fawkes's life force and mental presence through Magical Perception. He still couldn't fully comprehend it, but it was progress nonetheless.
"Well? Doesn't Fawkes seem a bit younger?"
From behind the desk, Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and smiled. "After accompanying you to the Ministry of Magic a year ago, he underwent another rebirth—a unique life cycle of phoenixes. It's akin to resetting one's life."
"Ah—"
Avada snapped back to himself. He had been so focused on the phoenix that he had nearly forgotten why he was here. Still, he didn't immediately mention Voldemort. Instead, he asked,"Professor… how did you know I was coming to see you?"
"Haha. Not only did I know you were coming, I also knew why," Dumbledore said with a smile. "You're here because of Professor Quirrell, aren't you?"
"You knew?!"
Avada's pupils shrank. If he hadn't sensed that Dumbledore wasn't using Legilimency, he might have reflexively activated Occlumency on the spot.
"I may not know exactly what happened between you and Quirrell," Dumbledore said calmly, "but I do know that over the past month or so, you've been rather close to him. Every weekend, you spend over an hour in his office. As Headmaster, that much doesn't escape my notice."
"And I also happen to know that Quirrell carries something… suspicious. I further happen to know that you possess remarkable talent. To a gifted young wizard like yourself, the things that appear suspicious to an old man like me may hold extraordinary appeal."
"So I've been keeping an eye on your movements."
Avada: "..."
Right. He'd overlooked that. As Headmaster, Dumbledore could monitor much of Hogwarts through its ever-watchful portraits. And weekend tutoring sessions with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor fell well within normal academic boundaries, so Avada hadn't been especially cautious.
"It's not just about Quirrell," Avada said slowly, meeting Dumbledore's gaze. "It's about me, too. That troll today… I might be the one who released it."
"Go on. Don't be afraid," Dumbledore said gently.
"Yesterday afternoon, Quirrell suddenly summoned me. He gave me a small paper box and asked me to place it in the dungeons during the Halloween feast. He said it was meant to be a little surprise…"
Avada explained the entire process of being instructed to release the troll—omitting, of course, the Imperius Curse.
"…On my way back to the dormitory to brew an Invigoration Draught, I remembered the task. I took a detour to the dungeons, set the box down, and then went back to brew the potion…"
"When I heard about the troll attack, my first thought was that box. I'd heard of the Undetectable Extension Charm, so I went straight to Quirrell's office to confront him. And then… then…"
He swallowed, steadying his breath before continuing."Then he removed his turban in front of me, revealing a face on the back of his head. That face claimed to be Voldemort."
"Oh?"
For the first time, surprise appeared on Dumbledore's face. "So that's how he infiltrated the school."
"Professor… you already knew?"
"Of course. In truth, I've been trying to determine where exactly he was hiding. I didn't expect you to uncover it first."
"Then why didn't you—"
"I have my own plans, and I can ensure he cannot harm anyone," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Never underestimate the wisdom of the elderly, Ken."
His expression then turned serious."If I'm not mistaken, after revealing himself, he threatened you—told you how wicked and treacherous I am. That if I learned you had studied under Voldemort and followed his orders to release the troll, I would expel you, send you to Azkaban, or do something even worse."
"…That's correct."
"But you still came to me and told me everything."
Avada nodded silently. Mostly, he was just a little embarrassed to admit that his skin still wasn't quite thick enough yet.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said solemnly, rising to his feet. "Thank you for trusting me. This information is immensely important. Perhaps that trust may yet change everyone's fate."
"Not everyone can remain rational under Voldemort's temptation—especially after he deliberately misled you. I imagine the trust you placed in me required great courage."
"..."
"There's one more thing I'd like to ask of you."
"What is it, Professor?"
"I want you to act as though nothing has happened. Continue interacting with Quirrell as usual. Do not let him sense anything amiss." Dumbledore hesitated slightly. "I know entrusting the task of dealing with Voldemort to a student is unfair—but at this moment, neither of us has another choice."
"I understand," Avada said gravely, nodding. "If I act strangely after tonight, he'll immediately suspect I told you everything—and then he'd kill me without hesitation and flee Hogwarts."
"I'll continue attending lessons as normal. I'll pretend I've already submitted to him. I won't reveal a single flaw."
"…Thank you."
After a long silence, Dumbledore looked into Avada's eyes once more and offered his thanks again, sincerely.
"As a reward for your trust and assistance, I'll award Hufflepuff thirty points," Dumbledore said as he sat back down, smiling once more. "And rest assured—no one will blame you for the troll incident. You are a victim in this matter as well."
"Now then, it's nearly curfew. If you don't hurry back, Mr. Filch may catch you, and I'll have to explain everything to him again…" He paused, eyes twinkling. "Care for some sweets? Imported from Italy. They're quite good."
...
In the end, Dumbledore never asked why Avada had managed to draw Voldemort's interest, nor why Voldemort had revealed his true form to him so easily.
(End of Chapter)