Dumbledore unwrapped a lemon sherbet and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly.
His words emerged slightly muffled, as though he hoped the act of chewing might grind away the tangle of emotions inside him. "Wyzett, do you know the name of this mirror?"
"The Mirror of Erised?" Wyzett replied. He'd only just learned the mirror's true name from Salazar.
"It seems you found quite a few interesting things on the other side." Dumbledore showed not a hint of surprise. "Why don't I tell you a bit about the Mirror of Erised?"
"It's a magical mirror. Instead of reflecting your image, it gazes into your heart… and reveals your deepest desire. It's truly remarkable…"
"My deepest desire?" Wyzett echoed softly, thinking back to the three visions he'd seen in the mirror. None of them felt like a longing from deep within his soul.
"Wyzett, you seem uncertain. What did you see in the mirror?"
"I saw chaos and purity… and myself reading, surrounded by endless books. It was like… an ocean of knowledge?"
"Chaos, purity, and reading, hmm? It sounds like your thirst for knowledge is so strong that the Mirror of Erised can't help but reflect it."
Wyzett hesitated, wanting to ask what Dumbledore saw in the mirror. But when he remembered those reddened eyes and the strange mix of sorrow and longing in Dumbledore's gaze, he let the question go.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, folding his hands in front of him. "Besides revealing your heart's desire, that mirror can also serve as a passageway."
"Just as I used the Mirror of Erised to quickly reach that underground chamber. And… it's intricately connected to the Guardian."
Wyzett looked at Dumbledore, surprise flickering in his eyes.
Dumbledore smiled gently, his tone calm and measured. "Oh? It seems you're not all that familiar with your role as 'Guardian' either?"
"I only learned I was the new Guardian after entering the world inside the mirror," Wyzett admitted with a nod. "Headmaster Dumbledore, do you know much about the Guardians?"
Until Salazar Slytherin revealed the truth, Wyzett's understanding of the Guardian was limited to the Custodis Meditatio—the Guardian's Meditation.
He'd always thought it was just a name for a meditation technique, never realizing the answer was hidden in plain sight.
It was a classic case of not seeing what's right under your nose—a blind spot caused by the obvious.
After all, in The Wizard's Practical Combat Guide, the most important and frequently appearing term was: Ancient Magic.
"Not really," Dumbledore said, shaking his head lightly. "The Guardians are shrouded in history. I only learned of the title from faint traces in my youth."
"Everyone has their younger days, Wyzett." He blinked, a spark of light dancing in his blue eyes. "Back then, we brimmed with energy…"
"Our minds were always bursting with wild ideas, always digging up curious stories from the strangest places. It was all very exciting…"
"We were free-spirited then. Once, while searching for something else, we stumbled upon a wizard's ruin—inside were several suits of armor forged by some peculiar magic."
Wyzett made the connection at once. "Headmaster Dumbledore, the peculiar magic you mention… was it Ancient Magic?"
"Exactly," Dumbledore nodded. "A Guardian must have lingered there for some time, leaving their mark—those suits of armor."
"We studied them and gained a trove of magical knowledge we'd never seen before. It was an invaluable experience that helped us all grow."
"But we could never truly master that strange power—we could only imitate, or reinvent it. I'd hoped, back then, that I could use this magic to protect…"
Suddenly, Dumbledore shivered. For a fleeting moment, a look of helplessness and sorrow welled up in his eyes, then vanished.
"Perhaps I am a bit tired. Or maybe it's just that being around you always helps me relax… Let's focus on the magic itself—I'll show you its original form."
He picked up his wand and gave it a gentle wave, conjuring two suits of armor out of thin air—the very same ones that had appeared in the Hospital Wing.
Only these were much smaller, barely reaching Wyzett's knees.
Dumbledore continued, flicking his wand again. "I adapted this spell as best I could to mimic the armor from the ruins…"
The two armors marched to opposite ends of the office. One conjured a lance and charged, while the other raised a shield to defend.
BOOM!
Both armors exploded in a flash of fire, and the headmaster's office trembled as if rocked by a minor earthquake.
Dumbledore grinned. "Not bad, eh? Would you like to learn it?"
For some reason, watching Dumbledore's expression, Wyzett felt as if he were being shown off to by an older brother.
"Of course!" he nodded enthusiastically. "This magic is incredible! I suppose it's not just Transfiguration—there must be charms involved too. It's a composite spell, isn't it?"
"Quirrell would be delighted for you. Yes, it's a composite spell—Transfiguration forms the base, but charms are woven in to enhance it."
"Professor Quirrell! Headmaster Dumbledore, why hasn't Professor Quirrell woken up yet?"
The question that had brought Wyzett here returned to the front of his mind—he'd wanted to ask about Quirrell's condition all along.
"How best to explain…" Dumbledore tapped his finger lightly on the desk. "It has to do with the nature of the Philosopher's Stone… How much do you know about it?"
Wyzett answered, "The Philosopher's Stone is an alchemical creation. It can brew the Elixir of Life and turn lead into gold… That's about all I know."
"It's also the universal catalyst of alchemy—that's the most important part," Dumbledore added. "With the Stone as a medium, alchemy becomes far simpler."
"Of course, that's just a bit of trivia for you… When I placed the Philosopher's Stone in Quirrell's chest, I was actually performing alchemy."
Wyzett immediately pieced it together. "So you used both the 'catalyst' and 'Elixir of Life' properties? Because when Voldemort was expelled, he drained Professor Quirrell's life force?"
"Exactly!" Dumbledore said. "My original plan was for that to sustain his life force until I could take him to Nicolas Flamel for help."
"But things rarely go as planned… As I've said, choices matter more than ability. When he chose to save you again, his soul was purified."
"Now, his body—long corrupted by Voldemort—no longer matches that cleansed soul. This mismatch is what keeps him in a coma."
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