"Mm. Sure, I believe you. Go on—keep making it up."
Avada narrowed his eyes at the three people in front of him, seriously wondering whether they were just naturally at odds with his fate.
Oh—Harry Potter counters Avada Kedavra, does he? Well then. That explains everything.
The three exchanged glances for a while before Harry finally lifted his head. "Ken, could you come with us for a moment? What we're about to say is really important—it's about what you told me on Christmas night, about that…"
He trailed off and began furiously signaling with his eyes.
"…All right."
Avada followed them to the empty classroom where they had been discussing things earlier. The moment the door closed, Harry couldn't wait any longer.
"Ken, you said Snape couldn't possibly be trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Can you explain why?"
"…Sorry. I can't."
Avada shook his head. He couldn't exactly blurt out that Snape was a spy, could he?
"Then what if we told you we've found solid proof that Snape is trying to steal the Stone—what would you think then?"
Harry asked nervously while subtly stepping back. Ron clenched his fists, and Hermione's hand had already slipped quietly onto her wand…
Avada: …
"Um. You don't have to be that obvious about preparing for a fight."
He rolled his eyes, ignoring their shocked expressions. "You should've put your wands somewhere concealed but easy to reach before coming in… and Ron, what are you clenching your fist for? Where's your wand?!"
"I know what you're thinking," Avada continued calmly. "You think I lied to you—and that I might even be in league with 'Professor Snape, who's trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone.'"
"So how do you plan to explain yourself?" Hermione asked.
Since their intentions were already exposed, she simply drew her wand—though she didn't point it directly at Avada.
"…Come with me."
After a brief, tense silence, Avada turned around, pushed the door open, and beckoned them over.
"I'll take you straight to Professor Dumbledore and let him explain."
He had no intention of wasting time trying to bluff these kids. Better to dump everything onto Dumbledore—wasn't he the one who wanted to raise a savior? Then he could clean up this mess himself. Avada's time shouldn't be spent on nonsense like this.
"You can see Dumbledore?" Harry asked.
"Of course. I know the password to the Headmaster's office. Come on—it's on the eighth floor."
Avada strode straight toward the eighth floor, with the three trailing behind him, nervous and curious. They'd been at Hogwarts for over half a year and still had no idea what the Headmaster's office looked like.
"Here we are."
Avada stopped in front of the stone gargoyle, opened his mouth—and then froze. Several seconds passed without a sound.
"…Does anyone here know how to roll their R's?"
In the end, he turned back to them and asked awkwardly.
"???"
"The password is in Italian. There's a sound in it I just can't pronounce…"
"…I can," Hermione said with a sigh, stepping forward. "Tell me how it's read, and point out which part needs the rolled R. I'll say it."
"That's great. The pronunciation is—"
Avada told her the ridiculous name, and Hermione did not disappoint, pronouncing it smoothly and perfectly.
Nothing happened.
"What's going on?" Avada frowned and poked the stone gargoyle, earning an extremely disdainful glare—no, a stone glare.
"That password is ancient history! It's been changed ages ago!"
"Oh. You should've said so earlier."
Avada instantly relaxed. "Sherbet Lemon."
"Lemonade?"
"Peppermint?"
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?"
"Chocolate Frog?"
"Treacle tart?"
"Cockroach cluster?"
The stone gargoyle finally leapt aside with a resigned huff. "I really don't want to let you in like this, but—"
Avada shot it a smug look and waved the three still standing there in confusion into the newly opened entrance. He certainly wasn't going to remind the gargoyle that it could install a 'lock out one specific person after too many wrong guesses' feature.
After climbing the spiral staircase, Avada knocked on the wooden door ahead.
"Professor Dumbledore, it's me—Ken."
"Ken?"
The door opened, and Avada immediately saw Dumbledore seated behind his desk, reading. The Headmaster adjusted his half-moon spectacles out of habit.
"Mr. Ken. Oh—and Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger… what can I do for you?"
"Well, Professor…"
Avada sighed, exhausted. "During the Christmas holidays, Harry and I exchanged some information for… certain reasons, and from that we deduced that what's being kept in the fourth-floor corridor is Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone…"
In truth, Dumbledore had been right there when they exchanged that information—but Avada wasn't supposed to know that, so he still had to explain it again.
"At the time, Harry insisted that Professor Snape wanted to steal the Stone. Given what I know, I told him it wasn't Snape. But just now, he seems to have obtained some evidence suggesting Snape is after the Stone and came to ask me about it. I felt they knew a bit too much already—it could cause instability—so I thought it best to let you decide how to handle it."
With that, Avada stepped aside, yielding center stage to the trio.
"I see," Dumbledore said gently, nodding before turning his gaze to them. "So—you already know that what is stored in the fourth-floor corridor is a Philosopher's Stone. Is that correct?"
"Y-Yes, Professor," they answered nervously. Strictly speaking, this wasn't something they were supposed to know.
"And you believe Professor Snape is attempting to steal it. Could you tell me why?"
"I saw him threatening Professor Quirrell—not long ago—in the Forbidden Forest…"
Harry quickly relayed everything he had seen and heard, without leaving out a single detail. Dumbledore listened attentively, stroking his beard in thought.
"I understand."
After hearing the full story, Dumbledore smiled warmly at the three of them.
"Thank you for showing such concern for my friend Nicolas, and for going to such lengths to investigate."
"But I can assure you that the Philosopher's Stone is under extremely strict protection—quite safe. In addition to myself, the four Heads of House, including Professor Snape, and Professor Quirrell have all placed protective enchantments on it. Hagrid has even provided Fluffy. You can imagine how comprehensive the protections we designed together must be."
"I know, Professor. But Snape—"
"It's Professor Snape, Harry."
"Y-Yes… him. He's trying to get past those defenses right now, and he threatened Professor Quirrell to make him find a way past Fluffy…"
"Now, now—no need to worry so much."
Dumbledore waved a hand lightly, interrupting him. "Since I chose to invite Professor Snape to teach at Hogwarts, I naturally have my reasons. As for the Philosopher's Stone—rest assured, it is perfectly safe. Fluffy alone is more than enough to keep any intruder at bay."
Standing to the side, Avada felt his eyelid twitch.
Dumbledore had talked around the issue for so long without addressing the core problem even once. There was no way Harry and the others would abandon their suspicions of Snape—not even a little.
Which meant that once they learned Hagrid had accidentally revealed Fluffy's weakness, and then found out Dumbledore had left the school for London, they would still rush headlong into the fourth-floor corridor to stop "Snape"—and, with the help of the protective enchantments, severely injure or even kill Voldemort.
Of course, that was all part of Dumbledore's own calculations.
Avada knew perfectly well that those protections couldn't directly destroy Voldemort in his wraith-like state. As for what Dumbledore would do after receiving Avada's anonymous letter—and whether he'd consider adopting Avada's plan…
That remained to be seen.
(End of Chapter)