Chapter 203: The Scene Displayed in Front of Everyone
At this moment, the atmosphere in the headmaster's office on the eighth floor was extremely tense.
Although all the professors understood and trusted Dumbledore, letting an underage wizard confront Voldemort had already crossed a line.
The fact that Voldemort had been hiding on the back of Quirrell's head—teaching in their very classrooms—was something they had all missed.
Granted, since Dumbledore had allowed Quirrell and Voldemort to remain at Hogwarts, the professors had assumed he had taken measures to neutralize the threat.
What's more, when young wizards first enter Hogwarts, they are bound by a magical contract with the school. Because of that, and the assumed protections of the castle and classrooms, the professors hadn't been overly concerned—even when the troll broke in on Halloween. The worst outcome they expected then was a broken bone or two, not death.
That was why Professor McGonagall's first reaction had been to reprimand Harry and his friends. She had been worried—but not too much.
However, the Forbidden Forest and the restricted area on the fourth floor were beyond the reach of both the professors' protections and Hogwarts' contract magic. That changed everything.
Now, they all stared at Dumbledore, waiting for his explanation.
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"Their trip to the Astronomy Tower was indeed related to me," Dumbledore admitted. "I won't go into the details—it concerns someone else's reputation. As for the unicorn's death… I was tracking Harry and the others closely, protecting them. My focus on their safety prevented me from intervening elsewhere. I was with them the entire time in the restricted area."
"That... I can barely accept," McGonagall said after a pause. "If you were there, even if the Dark Lord had regained his full power, Harry and the others would have stood a chance."
"But this meeting clearly isn't just about that," she added sharply. "The real reason you've gathered us here is this stone—which you insist is not the Philosopher's Stone."
"What do you have to say about it?"
"As expected of you, Minerva," Dumbledore replied with a faint smile. "The Philosopher's Stone is missing. That much is true—but not in the way you might think."
"Come on, Albus," McGonagall scoffed. "If the Stone really had been taken by Voldemort, you'd be making a much bigger fuss than this."
"Dumbledore can't lie outright," Flitwick guessed. "It's probably just a play on words."
"Perhaps the Stone is considered 'missing' because Dumbledore destroyed it himself," Snape added, narrowing his eyes. "And this red stone here is a decoy—used to deceive Voldemort. Possibly enchanted to record everything around it?"
"Oh, congratulations, Severus," Dumbledore said. "You guessed correctly. Well, mostly."
He raised his wand and tapped the red stone on the desk. Instantly, an image shimmered into the air above it. All the professors and even the portraits of past headmasters leaned in, curious.
What they saw stunned them into silence.
A young man emerged from the moonlight—handsome, mysterious. His very presence surprised everyone.
The image showed him advancing through the gauntlet of magical traps. When he reached Professor McGonagall's enchanted chessboard, she couldn't stay silent any longer.
Dumbledore tapped the stone again, freezing the image.
"If I'm not mistaken," he said lightly, "your defense was a bit too... straightforward."
"Pomona," McGonagall added, turning to Professor Sprout, "your defenses could be bypassed by anyone with a simple Lumos spell."
"Was I the only one who actually took this seriously?" she fumed.
"Well," Sprout shrugged, "if Dumbledore's final trap was the real line of defense, why should we do more than stall for time?"
"And you're focusing on the wrong thing," Sprout continued. "Did you not see his magic? He tamed Devil's Snare without a wand. He put the three-headed dog to sleep with a word. He sliced through enchanted keys with a conjured blade."
Flitwick, whose own trap was little more than a game of flying keys, nodded. That only irritated McGonagall further.
"I won't argue how strong he is," McGonagall huffed. "But Filius, your defense was just… whimsical. Anyone with a decent freezing spell or broomstick could have beaten it."
"Minerva," Flitwick replied calmly, "we were told these defenses were just to stall the intruder. Dumbledore's was the real test."
Snape, sensing where this was going, quickly said, "Don't look at me. My defense was lethal. If you don't believe me, watch the next part."
Dumbledore resumed the image.
The mysterious young man entered Snape's trap. His casual comment—"A boring display to please your superiors"—made Snape's face turn red with rage.
"My poison and fire could kill!" he snapped. "More dangerous than any of the others!"
"Don't be upset, Severus," Flitwick offered. "We were all criticized."
"No, we weren't," Snape growled. "Sprout was called gentle. You were imaginative. McGonagall got a warning. But me? Boring?"
"Is that kid even better than Quirrell?" Dumbledore asked, half-joking.
"At least I'm not in bad taste," Snape muttered under his breath.
"Severus, this isn't like you," Dumbledore said curiously. "You normally don't care what people think."
Indeed, Snape was known for being immune to criticism. He could outdo even Phineas Nigellus in unlikability if he were headmaster.
—
Meanwhile, in the Ravenclaw dormitory, Alexander Smith remained quietly hidden, not seeking attention for what he had done.
As Snape continued to fume, the image reached its end—Alexander putting in the decoy Philosopher's Stone before leaving.
Dumbledore turned to the four professors.
"Putting aside his comments," he asked, "what else did you see?"
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