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Chapter 203 - Chapter 201

Chapter 201: Principal's Office (Fixed)

It's late at night, and there's still an hour before the 10 o'clock curfew.

"You guys should head back. It's almost ten. Filch loves catching students right about now just to drag them to his office for punishment," Ron said, glancing at the wall clock.

Though Ron usually enjoyed attention, he didn't want his friends fawning over him because of his father. That kind of attention felt like a stain on Arthur Weasley's name.

> "What? Even toilets were invented by Muggles?" Draco asked, stunned.

> "Yeah—and their entertainment is completely different from ours too," Harry replied, explaining computers and games he never had a chance to experience.

But Draco and Harry still seemed in no hurry to leave. Draco, especially, was full of questions about the Muggle world.

Trying to change the subject, Ron suddenly asked, "Harry, the Philosopher's Stone is gone. How did Dumbledore react? And what about Nicolas Flamel? Is he… going to die?"

Harry hesitated. "According to Dumbledore, even if the Stone hadn't been stolen, he would've destroyed it anyway—to prevent Voldemort from being drawn to Hogwarts again. Nicolas Flamel and his wife… they've lived long enough. They just made some Elixir to prepare for their passing."

Draco shook his head. "No way. Either Dumbledore lied or Nicolas Flamel did."

"He probably just got tired of life as Nicolas Flamel. I bet he found a way to keep living without the Stone—or has spares stashed away. Now, with Dumbledore backing the story, the world thinks he's gone, and he can start over under a new identity with his wife."

Ron nodded. That did sound plausible.

"Maybe," Harry admitted. "But I still don't think Dumbledore lied—or was deceived. During Christmas, I talked with him in front of the Mirror of Erised. He said a lot of deep things. One line I remember: 'Death is but the next great adventure.'"

Draco frowned. "So Dumbledore arranged for us to go to the Forbidden Forest, set up the Mirror, and had Hagrid deliver the Stone… all of it?"

Ron cut in, "Exactly. He even showed up right when you said the Unbreakable Vow was a trap. Dumbledore was pulling the strings from behind. We were never really in danger."

"Right," Harry agreed. "The Mirror only gives the Stone to someone who wants to find it but not use it. No amount of magic, Occlumency, or Confusion Charms would've helped Voldemort."

"Even Voldemort said he was a master of Occlumency, but that didn't help him. So what chance did we have?" Draco said. "The truth is, the Stone would've stayed hidden whether we acted or not."

Harry nodded, a bit disappointed. "We never really had the upper hand."

Ron, however, shrugged. "Well, Dumbledore is still amazing. Not as amazing as my dad, but close."

"Harry, Quidditch practice starts tomorrow. Saturday's the final match. It's almost ten. Go get some sleep," he added, gently nudging Harry and Draco to leave.

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Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's Office on the eighth floor, it was unusually lively.

Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and even Sprout had gathered around a red stone. Surrounding them in portraits were the previous headmasters, including Dumbledore himself.

"Is this really the Philosopher's Stone?" Flitwick asked, standing on a floating chair to see past the others.

"With this, maybe I could cure diseases like dragon pox," said a portrait of a silver-haired witch—Delia Derwent, former healer at St. Mungo's.

"Nonsense," grumbled a yellow-faced wizard in another frame. "With the Elixir of Life, who needs cures?"—Evra, a former headmaster.

"Evra, you!" Delia snapped, shocked at the comment.

The professors below watched in silence.

"None of you noticed something strange?" came a tired voice from another painting.

"Thank you, Armando," Dumbledore said, glancing up at the portrait of Armando Dippet.

"You're welcome, Albus. It's our duty," Dippet replied calmly.

"Do you really need to remind us?" muttered Phineas Nigellus, stroking his goatee with disdain.

"Alright, that's enough," Dumbledore tapped the table, quieting the room.

The four Heads of House looked on, silently.

Finally, Snape broke the silence. "Why didn't you destroy it, then? Isn't that the plan?"

McGonagall pursed her lips. Sprout dropped her glove in surprise. Flitwick gasped and nearly fell from his chair.

The portraits seemed unsurprised.

"I didn't call you here to watch me destroy the Stone," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. "This one isn't the real Philosopher's Stone. Even Voldemort was fooled."

McGonagall stepped back. "Wait—when did the Dark Lord come to the school?! And what happened to Professor Quirrell?!"

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