Hermione and the others had already attempted to write to the Headmaster and had even received a reply. Yet now, being told to approach Professor McGonagall directly left them feeling uncertain and hesitant.
It wasn't without reason. Professor McGonagall had recently disciplined the Weasley twins along with several other Gryffindor students over the rumors surrounding Snape. Walking straight up to her now to ask questions felt almost like voluntarily stepping into danger.
Standing nearby, however, Hagrid clearly agreed with Ryze's reasoning. He had never wanted Harry and the others to get involved in matters concerning the Philosopher's Stone in the first place.
"Professor McGonagall may be strict," Hagrid said earnestly, "but she's fair. You'd do well to listen to Professor Dumbledore and her. This isn't something you should meddle in. It could be dangerous—very dangerous."
He cast a meaningful glance at Ryze, clearly hoping the others would follow his example. Compared to the mysterious and tempting Philosopher's Stone—an object said to grant immortality—Ryze seemed utterly uninterested. Instead, he appeared more concerned about whether Fluffy, the three-headed dog guarding the trapdoor, might become restless if it didn't get enough time outdoors.
But Ryze spoke again before anyone else could respond.
"Regardless of Snape's true intentions," he said calmly, "the Headmaster's reply tells us one very important thing—someone is indeed targeting the Philosopher's Stone."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned their attention to him immediately.
"Think about it," Ryze continued, sprinkling a bit of chili powder over the roasted meat in front of him. "From the Gringotts break-in at the beginning of August to the troll incident during the Halloween feast—these aren't isolated events. Someone has been orchestrating things behind the scenes, trying to get their hands on the Stone."
Hermione frowned slightly, her mind already working through the implications.
"And not only that," Ryze added, "this person may have already infiltrated Hogwarts."
The hut fell silent for a moment.
"Dumbledore likely knows this," Ryze went on. "By making the Philosopher's Stone's existence more openly known, he may actually be using it as bait."
"Bait?" Harry repeated, uneasy.
"Yes," Ryze nodded. "A lure to draw out whoever is behind all this."
The idea clearly unsettled them. Harry stared down at his plate, his appetite fading.
"If we act recklessly now," Ryze said, his tone steady but firm, "we could disrupt the Headmaster's plans. Worse, we might become targets ourselves—used or eliminated by whoever is pulling the strings."
Ron swallowed nervously.
"After all," Ryze concluded, "a Dark Wizard that even Dumbledore treats with such caution is unlikely to be an ordinary enemy."
Silence once again filled Hagrid's hut. The group resumed eating, but the mood had changed entirely.
Even though Ryze's roasted meat was far better than Hagrid's usual cooking, no one seemed to taste it. Their minds were elsewhere.
Then suddenly, Harry spoke.
"It's Voldemort."
The name struck the room like a thunderclap.
Hagrid stiffened. Ron nearly dropped his fork.
"Don't say that name!" Ron whispered urgently, grabbing Harry's arm.
But Harry ignored him, his eyes fixed on Hagrid.
"You told me people think he's dead," Harry continued, "but Professor Dumbledore believes he only lost his powers and went into hiding."
Hagrid hesitated but didn't deny it.
"And the Philosopher's Stone…" Harry pressed on. "It has unimaginable power. Of course he'd want it."
Harry pointed to his forehead.
"And besides him, who else would want me dead this badly? Whether it was Snape or not, the one behind the attacks has to be him—or someone working for him."
He explained how his scar had burned—once at the start of term, and again during the Quidditch match.
His reasoning was sharp, surprisingly so.
Ryze watched him quietly, a hint of approval in his eyes.
"You're not wrong," Ryze said after a moment. "I can sense that your fate is intertwined with another existence—one I cannot clearly perceive."
Harry's expression tightened.
"Dumbledore may indeed be guarding against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… and those who wish to bring him back."
Ryze gestured toward Harry's scar.
"If you've realized this much," he continued, "then you should also understand something else. This is not something we can intervene in right now."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Ryze raised a hand.
"You may have repelled him once," Ryze said, "but no one truly understands what happened that night. A miracle like that cannot be easily repeated."
Harry fell silent.
"However," Ryze added, "your scar may serve as a kind of early warning system. That's an ability of great value. It could allow you to sense his presence or intentions in advance."
Hermione leaned forward slightly, clearly intrigued.
"You should keep corresponding with Dumbledore," Ryze suggested. "And whenever your scar reacts, inform him immediately. That information could help him prepare more effectively."
Harry instinctively touched his forehead.
For the first time, he felt something beyond fear—a sense of responsibility.
If he couldn't directly confront the threat, perhaps he could still contribute.
Seeing their restless energy, Ryze decided to assign them tasks.
"Ron, Hermione," he said, "whenever Harry's scar reacts, pay close attention to who's around him and what's happening at the time. Even small details might matter."
They nodded seriously.
At least now, they had something they could do.
"Alright," Ryze said lightly, leaning back. "That's enough worrying about the Headmaster's reply. Let's eat. I'm starving."
The tension eased slightly.
Hagrid let out a quiet sigh of relief. With Ryze guiding them, Harry and the others seemed far less likely to rush into danger.
For the first time in days, Hagrid felt he could relax a little.
However, there was something no one else had noticed.
Ryze had deliberately left out a detail from Dumbledore's letter.
At the very end of the message, there had been a peculiar line:
"I hope to see tomorrow's post-dinner dessert early."
At first glance, it seemed like nothing more than a touch of humor—typical of Dumbledore.
But the more one thought about it, the more it felt like a hint.
A password.
The password to the Headmaster's office.
Ryze tapped his fingers lightly against the table, lost in thought.
What exactly was Dumbledore implying?
Was he being invited to visit the office the following night?
Or perhaps… something more?
Apprenticeship?
Guidance?
A test?
Ryze could roughly guess Dumbledore's intentions.
The Headmaster had likely sensed something unusual about him—perhaps a resemblance to someone from the past.
And now, he wanted to see for himself what kind of person Ryze truly was.
Whether he would walk the right path…
Or stray into darkness.
To be honest, Ryze didn't mind.
If Dumbledore wanted to observe him, then let him.
From beginning to end, Ryze had never once considered becoming a Dark Lord.
In fact, the idea felt almost laughable.
He hadn't even visited the Restricted Section of the library, nor had he stepped foot into the Forbidden Forest.
Why would he?
He already possessed the rune system.
By steadily absorbing curse energy and accumulating runes, he could grow stronger at a pace far beyond his peers.
There was no need for shortcuts.
No need for forbidden knowledge.
No need to chase power through questionable means.
In his eyes, such pursuits were… crude.
Almost inelegant.
Ryze glanced at the others, who were now quietly eating, their earlier tension replaced by cautious determination.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
As for the title of "Dark Lord"…
He shook his head slightly.
It really was a bit low-class.
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