As Snape prepared to deliver the finishing blow to the troll, Sullivan suddenly noticed something off about the professor's stance.
"What's the deal with your leg?" Sullivan asked.
Snape scoffed, his tone dripping with his usual prickly arrogance. "None of your business."
Sullivan didn't take offense; he knew this guy's personality all too well. He pressed on, "Well then, let me take a wild guess. You wouldn't happen to have taken a stroll to the third-floor corridor—you know, the one the Headmaster explicitly forbade students from entering? Did the little cutie inside take a bite out of you?"
Snape whipped his head around, glaring at Sullivan. "How much do you know?"
"Not too much. I figure there's something important hidden in there. You aren't trying to steal it right under Dumbledore's nose, are you?" Sullivan teased.
Snape hesitated. He hadn't seen Sullivan in over a decade. He couldn't be entirely sure if Sullivan was still the same person he used to know. However, considering Sullivan had just taken down a troll to save Harry, Snape decided he wasn't an immediate threat. Still, he didn't want to discuss Dumbledore's traps.
He sneered, "Oh, absolutely. Are you going to turn me in?"
"No, no, no. I have no intention of exposing you. In fact, if you really wanted to steal it, I'd help you. All I ask is that once you get it, you let me study it for a bit. As you know, I'm something of an Alchemy Master myself," Sullivan said, clarifying his position.
"So, you already know what's hidden in there, don't you?" Snape's brow furrowed.
"Is it that hard to guess?" Sullivan shrugged.
Sullivan wasn't just saying this for Snape's benefit. There was a good chance old Dumbledore was watching from some shadowy corner right now. And even if he wasn't, Snape would almost certainly relay this conversation to him.
Ever since acquiring the Moonstone, Sullivan had made progress on his "Magic Network Server," but he had hit a few roadblocks. The biggest issue was the power source. If he built a server that required hundreds of wizards pumping mana into it daily just to run, it would be pointless.
After some thought, he decided to use this method to test the waters with Dumbledore—to see if there was a chance to get the Philosopher's Stone, or at least borrow it for research.
He had wanted to say this back when he faced Dumbledore on the third floor, but the timing was off. Dumbledore was suspicious of him then; asking would have only made things worse. But today was different. He had saved the "Golden Trio," defeated a troll, and established his cover perfectly. Stating his desires now was safe—even if Dumbledore refused, he wouldn't do anything to Sullivan.
Seeing that Snape was ignoring him and limping over to deal with the troll carcass, Sullivan called out, "Need a hand? Maybe I should take you to Madam Pomfrey first."
Without looking back, Snape replied, "Completely unnecessary. Don't forget, I am a Potions Master. I can handle a minor injury like this."
"Alright then. Hand over the 100 Galleons first. I'll come find you tomorrow for the blood and bone materials!" Sullivan said as he stowed the troll's giant wooden club into his inventory.
"You... fine, fine! Just wait a second!" Snape was so annoyed he almost laughed. Was this guy seriously worried he'd embezzle 100 Galleons?
Snape drew his wand and cast a piercing curse, slicing open the troll's carotid artery. As blood sprayed out, Snape produced a small vial. Guided by his wand, the blood streamed neatly into the container.
However, the ruthless expression on Snape's face, illuminated by the red glint of the blood, looked twisted and terrifying. Even Sullivan felt a chill run down his spine. If a student saw this, they'd be having nightmares for weeks.
"Haha, I'm kidding! I'm not in a rush for the gold. You finish up here. I trust your character—I know you won't bail on the debt!" Sullivan waved, turned around, and quickly walked away.
---
Meanwhile, the Golden Trio was on their way back to the dormitory.
"Did you guys see that?" Harry asked. "Snape's leg looked like it was hurt."
"Yeah, I saw it. So what?" Ron asked.
"Why do you think a troll just suddenly appeared inside the school?" Harry mused.
"Who knows? Maybe it was one of Peeves' pranks. Adding some entertainment to Halloween," Ron shrugged.
Harry and Hermione both looked at Ron with expressions of pure pity, as if he had just suggested the moon was made of cheese.
Hermione sighed. "You're saying someone let the troll in on purpose? But what would be the goal?"
"Do you remember the three-headed dog on the third floor?" Harry asked. "There was a trapdoor under its paws. It's guarding something."
Hermione gasped, realization dawning on her. "So the troll was just a diversion to draw everyone's attention! The real target was whatever that dog is guarding on the third floor. And Professor Snape just happened to be injured... Oh, that's impossible! He's a professor!"
Ron finally caught up with the conversation. "So what if he's a professor? Snape must have let the troll in, then snuck off to the third floor, where the dog bit him."
If Sullivan were there to hear this analysis, he would have applauded them. With just a few scraps of information, they had pieced together the general shape of the event perfectly.
Unfortunately, due to their bias, they suspected the wrong person. As the saying goes, prejudice is a wall that blocks the truth—and right now, that wall was sky-high.
"What should we do? Maybe we should tell Professor Sullivan. He'd definitely help us!" Hermione suggested to the boys.
"Tell Professor Sullivan what? That we suspect another teacher is trying to steal something from the school? We don't have any proof, it's all just guessing," Ron dismissed the idea.
"Then what do you suggest?" Hermione glared at Ron.
Harry quickly interceded. "Hey, let's not fight. Maybe we can investigate first. Find out what exactly Snape is trying to steal!"
"How do we investigate?" Ron asked.
"Hagrid," Harry said with certainty. "I bet he knows something."
---
Sullivan didn't bother with Snape anymore and went straight back to his office. Over the past month, he had made significant strides in the manufacturing process for the "Magic Phone."
With his Transfiguration skills leveling up, Sullivan had new ideas. He figured he could combine Transfiguration and Alchemy to build a semi-automatic die-casting machine for key components.
Why not fully automatic? First, it wasn't necessary. The machine ran on mana, so he'd need to hire a wizard to power and operate it anyway. That wizard could handle the minor tasks like feeding raw materials into the machine.
Second, he lacked the capability. According to Sullivan's experiments, fully automatic casting required micro-adjustments based on the specific mana properties of the user. If he swapped the wizard powering the machine, all the automated data settings would be useless. If the machine kept running on the old settings with a new power source, the product would likely be trash.
Even with the same wizard, factors like mood, mental state, and focus affected how fast materials refined. Therefore, semi-automatic was the best choice for now.
Sullivan spent the entire Halloween feast busy with his research, so he missed the little parade the kids had organized.
It wasn't until nearly midnight that a knock came at his door. He opened it to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing there.
"Hey, you three. wandering around at this hour? I should deduct points for this!" Sullivan teased as he ushered them inside.
"I know you wouldn't really do that!" Hermione held her head high, brimming with confidence.
Sullivan found her confidence amusing. Where does this kid get the nerve? He smirked. "Well, looks like I need to establish some authority as a teacher. Gryffindor, because of you three... one point from each of you!"
As soon as Sullivan said this, a system notification chimed: [Enemy of Gryffindor 2] - Completed. Another generic skill point in the bag.
The three students, who had just sat down, froze. If Sullivan had strictly followed the rules for them being out of bed, he could have taken 10 or 20 points each. But one point? They were speechless. To them, it felt like this petty professor was just pranking them.
They had no idea that Sullivan was just two points shy of an achievement in his system. He thought he'd have to wait until tomorrow, but the "Golden Trio" had delivered a late-night gift. Why not take it?
"So childish!" Hermione pouted, muttering under her breath.
That comment almost cost them another 10 points, but Sullivan held back. "So, you didn't come here this late just to chat, did you?"
Harry spoke first. "Professor Su, we wanted to ask you... who is Nicolas Flamel?"
Hermione added, "Professor, I've checked almost every related book in the library and haven't found a thing about him. Since you graduated from Ravenclaw, I figured you must know."
"Where did you hear that name?" Sullivan asked curiously.
"Hagrid!" the three answered in unison.
Sullivan nodded. If it was Hagrid, that made sense. "Why didn't you just ask Hagrid?"
"He wouldn't say anything more. We tried everything, but we couldn't get another word out of him," Ron said helplessly.
"So, what makes you think I'll tell you?" Sullivan asked.
"Because we're friends, right?" Hermione said.
Sullivan nodded. "Good reason. Alright, I'll tell you. Nicolas Flamel is a legendary figure in the alchemy world. You've probably seen his name on a Chocolate Frog card."
"Impossible. I've collected almost every Chocolate Frog card there is, and I'm certain there isn't a Nicolas Flamel card!" Ron immediately denied it.
Sullivan shook his head. "Not a Nicolas Flamel card. A Dumbledore card!"
The three paused. Harry reacted fastest; he happened to have a Dumbledore card in his pocket. He pulled it out to check.
Character: Albus Dumbledore.
Headmaster of Hogwarts. Widely considered the greatest wizard of modern times.
Back of Card Highlights:
Defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945; discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood; famous for his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel; enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.
"I knew the name sounded familiar! I saw it here!" Harry exclaimed.
Hermione asked the more important question. "So, Professor Sullivan , what exactly did this Mr. Nicolas Flamel do to become a legend in alchemy?"
"What did he do? He created the only existing Philosopher's Stone. And using that stone, he created the Elixir of Life. As of this year, he is 665 years old," Sullivan said, sounding like a fanboy admiring an industry titan.
"665 years old? My god, that's incredible!" Ron gasped instinctively.
Hermione and Harry exchanged a look. "So, what Dumbledore is hiding in that room on the third floor... is the Philosopher's Stone!"
"What are you talking about?" Sullivan played dumb.
Harry and Hermione took turns filling Sullivan in on their theory about Snape, finishing with, "Professor Sullivan , you have to stop Snape."
Sullivan waved his hand. "Hey, hey, hey. You little rascals, you're overthinking this. Snape isn't the thief. No one can steal something of Dumbledore's from Hogwarts."
"But if Snape isn't the thief, how did his leg get bitten by that three-headed dog?" Harry countered.
Sullivan felt conflicted. As Snape's friend, he knew the man's past and had some knowledge of his future. Honestly, Sullivan didn't want to see Snape go down the same tragic path. Snape was on his "Must Save" list. But looking at Harry, Sullivan wasn't sure how to explain Snape's history.
It involved a lot of personal privacy, and without Snape's permission, Sullivan didn't want to air it all out.
After hesitating for a long moment, Sullivan said, "Harry, I told you before that I knew your parents, right?"
Harry nodded, looking at Sullivan with anticipation.
Sullivan continued, "Actually, your father and I weren't friends. Strictly speaking, we were more like... enemies."
Hearing this, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked stunned, staring at Sullivan in disbelief, waiting for the truth.
Sullivan took a sip of water. "Your father, James Potter, was an incredibly talented wizard. But at the same time, he was a very... mischievous one."
"When we were in school, he and a few friends formed a prankster group called the Marauders."
"They would pull pranks on other students, like hanging them upside down from the roof—just like I did to Malfoy recently. Snape was one of their victims."
"That was when Snape and I became friends. To stand up against the Marauders—your father's team—we formed the 'Snake and Eagle Duo'."
"Of course, that was just kids messing around. Your father grew up to be a pillar of the resistance against Voldemort, and Snape became an excellent professor at Hogwarts."
"They are both great men, great wizards. So, please, don't let the prejudice in your heart blind your eyes to the details."
Harry looked as if he'd been hit with a Body-Bind Curse. He couldn't process it. He never imagined his father could have been a bully.
"Professor Sullivan ... did my father... did he ever do anything bad to you?" Harry asked weakly.
Sullivan laughed heartily. "Harry, don't dwell on that. Everyone does incredibly childish things when they're young. Besides, my nemesis was never your father. It was another guy in the Marauders."