"Oh, come now. Don't act surprised just because you heard Quirrell's name," Larry Gaspard said, looking amused. He stared at Ares, blinking his clear blue eyes, and spoke with meaningful intonation.
"You knew it was Quirrell all along, didn't you? ...You see what is happening, or is about to happen in this world, more clearly than anyone else."
The train wound its way into the mountains. The daylight outside remained bright.
Ares met Larry Gaspard's gaze in silence. But quietly, a bone-chilling coldness crept into his heart, making him tremble inwardly.
What does he mean... 'You see what is happening, or is about to happen in this world, more clearly than anyone else'?
"Perhaps your intelligence is mistaken, Mr. Gaspard. I am not a Seer," Ares said after a long pause.
"Of course, I didn't say you were," Gaspard replied cheerfully, withdrawing his profound gaze.
"But you certainly knew that the wizard who commissioned you in the underground Knockturn Alley was Quirinus Quirrell... As you said yourself just now, an ordinary black cloak cannot block your sight."
Ares remained silent, still pondering the meaning of that earlier sentence.
"Let me unravel the secret of Quirrell's death for you, Ares," Gaspard said gently, straightening his posture.
"Actually, neither the commission to rescue Bellatrix Lestrange nor the robbery of Gringotts was Quirrell's original idea. Quirrell himself was actually serving a 'Great Personage.'
So—oh, when Quirrell was robbing Gringotts, he unexpectedly ran into me... You may have heard that I fought him and wounded him."
"And then?"
"That 'Great Personage' had been parasitic on Quirrell. He was very dissatisfied with Quirrell's failure, and since Quirrell was seriously injured by me, he abandoned him. Their life force was in a marvelous symbiotic relationship; after the 'Great Personage' left, Quirrell had only one path left: death."
Gaspard smiled and spread his hands towards Ares. "There, that's the whole process."
"Let me guess," Ares said softly, lowering his eyelids. "After that, the 'Great Personage' found you and decided to serve under your banner?"
"Quite the opposite, Ares," Gaspard chuckled. "More or less... Ah, I mean, I am serving that 'Great Personage.'"
The unquestionable tone in the middle-aged wizard's voice made it clear to Ares that he would not offer a more candid explanation of his relationship with Voldemort.
"Did you come here today to take Bellatrix Lestrange?" Ares leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands on his knees.
He stared at Gaspard, retracting the polite smile he had worn as a disguise. He asked calmly, though his heart beat a little faster.
The answer to this question would determine whether he and this mysterious, powerful wizard would come to blows.
Because regardless of whether it was Quirrell or anyone else who came today, Ares had never intended to hand Bellatrix over.
"Naturally not," Gaspard said decisively. But then, he showed a trace of ambiguous hesitation.
"The existence of that female prisoner actually has little significance anymore... Oh, in my personal opinion, it's best not to set her free—well, to avoid causing social unrest... But I can't exactly suggest you kill her, as that goes against my nature of disliking killing."
"I will handle it appropriately," Ares said concisely. "So, what is your true purpose in coming here?"
"You saw the box of gold bars I brought, Ares. That wasn't to pay the balance for Quirrell's commission," Larry Gaspard smiled. "With your wisdom, it should be easy to figure out."
"Oh, I am truly honored, Mr. Gaspard. How may I be of service?"
Ares sat motionless as a statue, focusing all his attention on monitoring every move of the man opposite him.
"Actually, according to the plan, I should have done this myself... I mean, infiltrate Hogwarts myself," Gaspard continued in a conversational tone.
"But you see, that's obviously not a good idea, is it? My disguise didn't last a second in front of you, so how would it fare under Dumbledore's nose?"
"Oh, why not? Maybe Dumbledore's eyes have gone dim with age."
"Oh, haha. In my opinion, that possibility is very small," Gaspard chuckled.
"There is an item of extreme value currently stored within Hogwarts. I must obtain it... This is also the order of that 'Great Personage.'"
"I assume that item isn't Filch's moldy tailcoat."
"Naturally, naturally," Gaspard said. "It is... well, whatever it is, to get it and bring it out of Hogwarts, one must first gain Dumbledore's trust."
"Why?" Ares questioned for the second time. "Based on my assessment... or rather, I am quite certain you have the power to storm Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry directly, kill Dumbledore, take what you want, and leave openly."
"Unless there is no other way, I won't do that," Gaspard sighed. "That would cause too much of a disturbance."
Ares's eyes flashed.
Gaspard's words meant... he did not deny Ares's judgment of his magical power.
"So, that's how it is." After a moment, Gaspard composed himself and looked at Ares warmly.
"This matter shouldn't have fallen to you, Ares... But who could have predicted that by a twist of fate, you would become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, able to move freely under Dumbledore's nose... And the many commissions you accepted before prove that you are a very reliable and trustworthy wizard."
Gaspard nudged the suitcase with his foot.
"Go and get along well with Dumbledore first. When the time is right, I will tell you what I and that Great Personage need... Consider the seven hundred pounds of gold in this box as half the deposit."
Things had developed to a point where money was no longer the issue.
But seven hundred pounds of gold, as half the deposit... Hearing this number, Ares's eyelid still twitched involuntarily.
"What if—"
After a brief silence, Ares looked away from the dragon-hide suitcase and stared fixedly at Gaspard.
"—I don't accept this mission?"
"Then I'll just have to think of another way..." Gaspard sighed again. "If there's no other choice in the end, perhaps I'll have to... sigh... make a huge scene with Albus Dumbledore that everyone will know about."
Ares watched the middle-aged wizard's performance quietly...
His face was expressionless, but inside, he was plunged into a great unease.
What did he mean... "You see what is happening, or is about to happen in this world, more clearly than anyone else"?
"If you are truly unwilling to accept... fine, Ares. Goodbye then."
Unexpectedly, Larry Gaspard didn't insist. He reached for his suitcase, seemingly intending to just leave.
Thud!
Ares stomped his foot onto the suitcase, his deep, lingering gaze fixed on Gaspard's face.
The latter didn't seem surprised. Faced with Ares's rude behavior, he merely smiled faintly.
"What if—oh, I don't want to let you leave either?"
Ares said.
"I know it's difficult... I don't have absolute certainty—maybe twenty or thirty percent at most... But I'm willing to try, Mr. Gaspard. You are simply too fascinating... I have so many questions I want to ask you."
"You are being entirely modest, Ares," the man said cheerfully, not a trace of tension on his square face.
"I bet if you went all out, regardless of the cost, I certainly wouldn't be able to leave, and I might not even survive.
But the problem lies in..."
Gaspard smiled.
"...'regardless of the cost.'"
"Excuse me!"
Several young wizards suddenly burst into Ares's field of vision. Leading them was a little witch with bushy brown hair. She grabbed the doorframe and asked in a forceful tone:
"Have you seen Neville's... Ah! The scammer who sold me fake medicine!"