All the way until he stepped into the Headmaster's office, Avada's mind remained in a daze.
That overwhelming joy of having escaped certain death—of seeing light after utter darkness—hit him so hard it left him reeling. He felt drunk, swaying as he walked, as though his feet never quite touched the ground, like he was stepping on clouds. Ron's startled shouts and Hermione's ear-splitting scream brushed past him like a passing breeze; he barely registered them at all…
That was Voldemort.
The final boss who ran through all seven books.
And just like that… it was over?
Just like that, it ended? The wizarding world had truly and completely entered an era of peace?
From the expectations he'd had when he first began designing everything, to the tension of facing Voldemort head-on; from the shock and frustration of watching him escape by severing his tail, to the sheer ecstasy when Dumbledore descended from the sky—
Never in two lifetimes had Avada experienced such violent emotional swings.
It was safe now. Everything was safe…
The friends back at the orphanage would never be persecuted again. Dumbledore would never have to put on the ring. Fred, Lupin, and Tonks wouldn't die on the battlefield. Snape wouldn't be killed by Nagini. Cedric and Sirius wouldn't be struck down by the Killing Curse. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor wouldn't need to be replaced every single year anymore…
Oh, right—if Voldemort being gone meant the curse on the Defense position was lifted, then would next year's professor still be Lockhart?
If it were him… wouldn't he be able to stay in that position for a very long time?
Ah—no, wait. He was getting ahead of himself.
Voldemort wasn't dead yet…
"Ken? Ken?"
Suddenly, a firm shake of his shoulders dragged him out of that cloudlike reverie and back into reality.
He—Baron, Harry, Ron, and Hermione—were all standing inside Dumbledore's office now. The gray mist in Dumbledore's hand had been sealed into a small vial, its glass etched with densely packed silvery runes. And that black crystal sphere… was still cradled in his own hands.
"Oh—sorry, Professor, I…"
Only then did he realize he'd been grinning like an idiot the whole time, and he hurriedly apologized.
"Perhaps I need some time to process all of this."
Dumbledore stroked his beard with a smile. "To be honest, even I'm a bit lost for words at the moment. But Ken, would you mind handing me that crystal sphere?"
"Although Voldemort has been completely sealed, that doesn't mean he's dead. And as long as he isn't dead, the possibility of his return remains—just like during those eleven years before. That's why I must determine the method he used to preserve his immortality… and then destroy him completely."
As he spoke, a grave note entered Dumbledore's eyes.
"Exactly," Ron chimed in. "If those hidden Death Eaters find out about this, they'll go mad trying to sneak in and rescue him. There might even be people in the school thinking along those lines—like Malfoy…"
Ron nodded, then asked Dumbledore, "But Professor, where are you planning to store his soul this time? Are we putting it back in the fourth-floor corridor and guarding it with even tighter protections? Like the Philosopher's Stone?"
"Pfft—haha…"
Ron stared in astonishment as both Avada and Baron burst out laughing the moment he finished speaking. Hermione looked at him with the tender gaze one reserved for the hopelessly clueless. Even Dumbledore couldn't help smiling—and Harry, his best mate, wore an expression like he wanted to say something but didn't know how.
"Can't blame you, Ron. You weren't involved in the final stage," Avada said, placing the crystal sphere on the desk before turning back with a grin. "Take a guess—what's the safest place in the entire school?"
"The fourth-floor corridor?" Ron ventured. "With all those traps and spells?"
"Dumbledore's pocket."
Hermione rapped Ron sharply on the head, exasperation written all over her face. "If Dumbledore wants to protect something, the best method is to keep it on him at all times. No one can take anything from him by force!"
"…"
Ron blinked, gears visibly grinding for a good while before realization finally struck. "So—the Philosopher's Stone was a trap? Meant to lure Voldemort out, so you could capture him like today?!"
"Thank you for the compliment, Miss Granger."
Dumbledore nodded with a light chuckle. "To be honest, this differed somewhat from my original plan. And given how things turned out, that original plan was almost impossible to carry out. Reaching this point required… some rather unexpected assistance."
"Unexpected assistance?"
Even Harry and Hermione couldn't hide their curiosity now. "Professor, this wasn't what you originally planned?"
"That individual was unwilling to show himself, so I didn't press for details. But aside from the Philosopher's Stone, nearly every spell and trap designed specifically to counter Voldemort was provided by that gentleman…"
He smiled at the stunned expressions on the three students' faces.
"And of course, I must also thank Mr. Ken and Mr. Shafiq for their courage, determination, and ingenuity. Only through your efforts were those plans on paper turned into reality, allowing Voldemort to finally be captured. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say you've changed the wizarding world."
"But we still almost let him escape," Avada said, the earlier elation fading into lingering fear. "If you hadn't caught him at the end, Professor… who knows what chaos he'd have caused."
"And we resorted to some rather unsavory methods," Baron added with a sigh.
"You've done more than enough," Dumbledore said warmly, nodding in approval—clearly pleased they hadn't grown complacent. "If the Headmaster himself had nothing left to do, wouldn't that mean I was utterly useless? And how, then, would I protect this school and its students?"
"Besides, fate played its part as well. That adventurous gentleman happened to be a Seer, and foresaw that the hope of destroying Voldemort lay with Ken. Ken, in turn, had long been embedded at Voldemort's side, earning his complete trust. And then there was the fortunate coincidence that Mr. Shafiq's family possessed a crystal sphere capable of serving as a vessel…"
"When you think about it now, everything fits together a little too neatly."
Avada swallowed.
"Oh, and Mr. Shafiq—this crystal sphere belongs to your family, doesn't it? I must apologize, but I'll need to keep it for a while. Rest assured, once Voldemort is completely destroyed, it will be returned to you immediately."
Baron swallowed as well.
Thankfully, Dumbledore didn't seem inclined to pursue the matter further. Instead, he turned his attention to the five of them.
"Let us consider this matter concluded for now. Please don't publicize it just yet—exams are approaching. The younger students will be fine, but those in their fifth and seventh years mustn't be distracted…"
He finished with a mischievous smile. "However, I can tell you in advance that your commendations will be presented at the end-of-year feast. As for what honors you'll receive… well, I'll keep that a surprise."
"Oh my, it's nearly two in the morning already," he added, glancing at the clock with mock surprise. "You should hurry back and get some sleep, or you'll be utterly exhausted tomorrow…"
"Wait, Professor."
Just as they were about to leave, Harry suddenly turned back. "May I ask you a few questions privately? There's still so much I don't understand…"
"Of course, Harry," Dumbledore said with a gentle nod. Then he tapped his forehead. "Ah—almost forgot. To express my personal gratitude, I'd like all of you to come to my office after the end-of-year feast. I have a few gifts I'd like to give you…"
(End of Chapter)