Two weeks before classes began on Montmorency Street, opposite an inconspicuous stone house at number fifty-one, Dumbledore once again materialised out of thin air. Ringing the bronze bell above the door, he waited for the house spirit to open it and immediately stepped inside. A spatial transition flashed, protective artefacts checked the visitor's aura, and Albus found himself on the same sunny lawn, surrounded by a hedge and entwined with ivy, where a small mansion of marvellous beauty in the old Flemish style stood.
Taking a deep breath of the inviting scent of flowers growing everywhere in pots and flower beds, the mage followed the house spirit towards the house. In the dining room, where the house spirit had led him, an old man and woman were sitting drinking aromatic coffee and enjoying the warm family atmosphere. Turning at the sound of the door, Nicholas Flamel looked at Albus without surprise.
"Hello, my friend, sit down," the old wizard waved invitingly.
Pernella Flamel pushed a cup towards Dumbledore:
"Help yourself to some coffee, Albus. Or would you prefer tea, like a true Englishman?"
"I think that would be better," Dumbledore smiled.
Dumbledore began to explain his idea to the Flamels in detail. The artefact tuned to Riddle showed that he had moved from Albania, where he had been hiding all these years, to England. Why and where he was hiding there was unclear. All the mercenary squads that Albus regularly sent to search for him returned empty-handed every time. Even Moody went there to check everything with his magical eye, but found nothing. And he categorically refused to go there every year as if on holiday. And now this...
Unfortunately, the artefact did not reveal where Voldemort was hiding, but the last time it had detected a trace of his power, it was in London, which meant that he would definitely try to get to Hogwarts to finish what he had started — to kill little Harry Potter. Judging by the manuscripts describing the Horcruxes, Voldemort needed to find a body he could inhabit. The task was complicated by the fact that, due to the dark wizard's level of power and the danger of such rituals, any human body would be destroyed. Therefore, Dumbledore suggested using a piece of the Philosopher's Stone, about which the most fantastic rumours were already circulating, as bait. The fools did not understand that it was not enough to have it in their pocket; they also had to be able to brew the elixir of immortality. The stone is only a catalyst for alchemical reactions, without which the elixir cannot be created. But Voldemort would not be able to resist trying to get hold of the stone.
Nicolas smiled at his friend and student:
"If it's so important to you, take the stone, but I beg you, when the whole story is over, it must be destroyed. Otherwise," added Flamel with a friendly smile, "by next autumn, it will explode so violently that you won't be able to count the towers of your Hogwarts.
Dumbledore stared intently at Flamel.
"My dear Wulfric," Pernella suddenly spoke up. "Did you really think that in all the years of our existence, my husband and I hadn't developed a system to protect the stone? Your Voldemort is far from the first or the most powerful wizard to seek to steal the stone and the secrets of the potion.
"Yes, Albus," nodded Flamel. "It is high time we 'died' to all our acquaintances. We will close the house and disappear from everyone's lives. We want to wander the world again, see what it has become. It is a very interesting time, even Muggles have become much more active than in our youth. Tell anyone who is curious that the Flamels have decided to end their long lives.
"Will we meet again, teacher?" Dumbledore sighed.
"That depends on your search," Nicholas smiled again. "Every wizard must find his own path to power and immortality. You cannot follow in someone else's footsteps and get anywhere except the place of your death.
"You wanted to collect all three gifts of the Peverells, so go ahead. The Elder Wand is already yours, and the invisibility cloak, as far as I know, is too. All you have left to do is find the ring and perform the ritual to summon Death. If 'She' deems your life worthy, she will grant you immortality, and if not, she will take you with her, just like your three brothers. But at least it's a chance at immortality," Flamel shook his head sadly, "unlike what your foolish student did to himself.
"Ha-ha. Gerpy was a vicious joker, he published his experiments on creating 'Liches' and presented them as a way to achieve immortality," Flamel chuckled, "And the fools who tried his methods on themselves willingly became raw materials for a skilled necromancer. Such a 'Lich' is difficult to distinguish from a living magician: he thinks, he can cast spells, and he looks almost human. But a 'Lich' is always directed against the living. There is only one programme running in his brain: 'kill someone, kill everyone'. Murder and the absorption of other people's magic make him stronger and prolong his existence.
A necromancer who gathered an army of such creatures under his command was a very dangerous enemy," shook his head the ancient Frenchman. "The whole world had to fight these creatures, rivers of blood were shed. That is why, by the way, the last necromancers hid in deep burrows and are afraid to fully use their art. And your Wizengamot has outlawed necromancy in all its forms.
"Your friend Gellert never decided to create a Kreacher for himself, did he? And you too, you realised in time how dangerous it was," Flamel took a sip of coffee. "Anyway, Albus, I'll give you the stone, but remember the deadline. Everything must be settled before summer, and then you will burn it with hellfire.
***
Upon his return to England, Dumbledore rented a storage room in a bank and hid the stone there. As he left Gringotts, he saw Quirinus Quirrell, his Muggle Studies teacher, descending the steps of Flourish and Blotts. Albus did not even recognise the young man at first. He had a frightened look on his face, a turban on his head, and his fingers were nervously twitching as he clutched his wand.
"What scared him so much during the holidays?" Dumbledore wondered and sighed.
This year, there were no students left who had chosen Muggle Studies after their first year, and he didn't know where to put Quirrell. The subject was optional and not popular in the wizarding world. Dumbledore thought for a moment: "What if I offer Quirinus the position of DADA teacher? He'd last a year for sure, and then he could go back to Muggle Studies. Several Muggle-born students were enrolling this term, and they would definitely choose an easy subject. That way, he would keep his man and solve his eternal problem of finding teachers.
Encouraged, Dumbledore waved cheerfully to Quirrell:
"Quirinus, my boy, how are you?" Quirrell shuddered and looked at Albus with fear.
"Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked kindly, glancing at him through his glasses. "You look tired. You've even changed your style of dress," Albus continued, glancing at his companion's turban.
"T-t-thank you, Albus, everything is f-f-fine," Quirrell replied, stammering. "I'm just looking for a j-j-job."
"It's a lucky coincidence that I met you, my boy," the great light wizard smiled even more broadly. As you know, there are no Muggle Studies classes this year, but I am ready to offer you a position as a DADA teacher, and in a year, I think you will be able to return to your old job. During your travels, you must have honed your magical skills and will be able to tell the children many interesting things.
Quirrell nodded happily:
"Of course, Albus, I'm happy to accept your offer. I have a lot to tell the children about this undoubtedly important subject. I just hope the curse doesn't kill me," he added with a nervous smile.
"Don't worry, my boy," Dumbledore replied cheerfully. "Nothing will happen to you in a year.
Saying goodbye, delighted that the staffing problem had been solved, Dumbledore apparated to Hogwarts. Quirrell looked around carefully and, seeing no one he knew, pulled up the hood of his robe and moved towards Lyutny. He had to prepare for a rather risky undertaking.
***
The first-year students and other pupils, now calm and well fed, slept peacefully in their beds, while the teachers gathered around the headmaster. Dumbledore asked the professors about their impressions of the new students, discussed the schedule and work issues, and listened to the familiar complaints of Sprout and Trelawney. The badger dean, as always, wanted to expand her greenhouses, and the broomstick flying instructor wanted new equipment.
Sighing heavily, Dumbledore promised to look into everything as soon as possible and moved on to the reason why he had gathered the staff after dinner.
"Dear colleagues! It so happens that my friend, Nicolas Flamel, has asked me to keep a valuable item for him. Hagrid brought it to me from Gringotts, and it is now here in my office. But after some thought," continued the headmaster, "I have come to the conclusion that the tower's defences are not secure enough. Powerful wizards may be hunting for this item. Therefore, I ask you to help me create an obstacle course that will distract the thieves. Once they have passed through it, they will fall into a trap that I will set myself.
The teachers bombarded Dumbledore with questions, and he, without hesitation, assigned each of them a task: Sprout was to grow "devil's snare" to stop the intruders, Flitwick suggested enchanting the key to the next room so that it would multiply and fly around the ceiling, preventing anyone from grabbing it. McGonagall promised to transfigure the magical chess pieces in the next room to stop the intruders. Quirrell, stammering, suggested hiding a mountain troll, whose language he could speak, in the kidnappers' path. Snape suggested brewing a potion that would put the intruders to sleep. Dumbledore nodded in agreement and, smiling contentedly, dismissed all the professors and deans, asking only Hagrid to stay.
"Hagrid, please tell me how Fluffy is doing?" — At which the gamekeeper looked away guiltily.
The half-giant had always been fond of various monsters. As a student, he had cared for an intelligent spider named Aragog, and because of a strange story involving a dead student, he had been expelled and even spent a short time in Azkaban. Dumbledore managed to take the half-giant under his wing, but his wand was broken, and the case of the dead student was never solved. Aragog settled safely in the forbidden forest, and Hagrid was given a job at Hogwarts. The half-giant's attraction to various monsters was well known to the headmaster, who was aware that the gamekeeper had purchased a Cerberus puppy from a Greek man the previous year and was enjoying raising it. The three-headed creature grew into a formidable monster that no longer fit in the shed behind the gamekeeper's hut.
"Hagrid," Dumbledore began earnestly, "your puppy is getting too big for the shed, and I'm afraid he might escape and cause trouble.
"No, Fluffy would never!" Hagrid protested heatedly. But Dumbledore silenced him with a wave of his hand.
"I'll ask you to keep him in the castle. Let him guard the entrance to the trap-filled dungeon. He'll be the first line of defence. You can visit your pet every day." Dumbledore smiled kindly at the half-giant.
Hagrid nodded in agreement.
"It's settled, then," Dumbledore said, his glasses flashing.
"And next year," he said sternly to the gamekeeper, "you'll still have to send him to Greece, to the kennel. The dog is growing and will soon become very dangerous. It's not right to keep such an animal around children.
***
There were guests at Malfoy Manor today. Narcissa was meeting her sworn friends, Parkinson and Granger, while Lucius was visited by an old acquaintance, Lord Voldemort. While the women discussed their children in the drawing room, the two former Death Eaters made themselves comfortable in Lucius's study. The host personally placed cups of fragrant tea on the table and invitingly pushed a basket of biscuits towards his companion.
"What brings you here, old friend?" Lucius began affably. "Are you bored? Theodore is at Hogwarts with Draco, and you're probably used to the constant noise those restless children make, aren't you?"
Nott smiled sparingly:
"You know, after my wife died, Theo is like a ray of sunshine to me, and he and your son are so mischievous at times that I don't know how the manor hasn't been destroyed yet.
Lucius also grinned:
"Yes, children can be so energetic, it's hard for adults to understand.
Nott suddenly darkened and slowly rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. The skull and snake crawling out of his mouth, once completely transparent, were now filled with blackness. Malfoy shuddered, staring in horror at the mark.
"Voldemort is back?" Lucius whispered hoarsely.
Nott shrugged sadly:
"The Lord hasn't contacted any of us, I would have known. But he's definitely coming back. I've started to feel a slight drain of energy through the mark again. The altar is holding up for now, but if the Lord returns, I'll be forced to take his side. The mark won't allow me to do otherwise," Nott sighed painfully.
Lucius thought hard, all his plans would have to be revised. Lord was too serious a matter. Such an unstable factor would definitely not be beneficial to anyone. Moreover, the organisation's funds, which had long been under Malfoy's control, were invested in businesses in Europe and America. Withdrawing such significant sums would mean losing at least half of what they had earned over the years. And Fudge, with whom they did business, would certainly not be pleased with such information. Everything was going well now. All the former Death Eaters, including those in Azkaban, were receiving substantial sums of galleons in their accounts on a regular basis.
Even if they never left Azkaban, the close relatives of the Devourers, whom Lucius supported, would certainly not want for anything. In fact, by carrying out his financial scams with Fudge, Lucius was supporting the entire families of his former colleagues. And he didn't want to disrupt the well-oiled financial empire with another power struggle, not even if it meant gritting his teeth. Yes, Dumbledore continued to periodically screw things up for him from his chair as head of the Wizengamot, but the old man was largely powerless to influence anything serious anymore. Lucius had entangled the entire ministry in his web, with the exception of the security forces, and the time was not far off when he would try to initiate a review of the Death Eaters' cases. Enough time had passed, passions had subsided, and the past had been forgotten. The aristocratic families needed to be restored, and every drop of noble ancient blood was important. After sitting for a while longer and drinking more tea, the former Death Eaters began to say their goodbyes. Lucius asked to be kept informed of any changes in the mark, to which Nott simply nodded in agreement.
***
Severus Snape woke up in a bad mood once again. Today he had a lesson with the first year students, which included a child he hated. The little copy of James Potter with Lily's eyes aroused a dull irritation in him. He knew that the boy, whom Dumbledore had sworn to protect, was starting this year. But only when he saw that hateful face did he realise how cruelly the headmaster had joked with him. To hate, but to protect. Save from trouble the son of the man who had bullied him and his friends for seven years. Protect the son of the man who had taken his beloved from him and, worse, allowed her to die!
Lowering his feet to the cold floor, Severus suddenly fixed his eyes on his hand. The mark, which had remained semi-transparent until now, was grey, its colour much darker and now causing uncontrollable fear in his soul. Severus struggled to restore the Occlumency shields around his mind, but his haunted gaze still betrayed him. Lowering his head under the tap with ice-cold water, Snape regained his composure somewhat. He dried his hair, which, as usual, looked like greasy strands due to the vapours from the cauldron, with a spell and ordered breakfast to his room, not daring to appear in the Great Hall today.
Over the years of working as a teacher at Hogwarts, he had become a hardened cynic, having long since realised that the headmaster had simply caught a young puppy and tied him to himself and Hogwarts with oaths. One of Snape's ideas was to work for a year as Professor DADA so that the curse would force him to leave the school, but Dumbledore always refused with an understanding smile. After breakfast, rubbing his pale face with his palms once more, Severus gathered his strength and went to class.
The first-years were already chattering in the Potions classroom, and Snape burst into the room, his robe sweeping dramatically behind him. The voices fell silent immediately, and Severus, approaching the teacher's desk, turned sharply towards the audience and swept his heavy gaze over the students' faces.
"Foolish waving of magic wands has nothing to do with potions. Put down your pens and listen to me," Snape began with a stony expression. "I am sure you are incapable of boiling your mother's soup, let alone potions... I can teach you how to bottle fame, how to brew triumph, and even how to bottle death. But only if you follow my instructions carefully in class.
"However..." Severus smiled crookedly. "I doubt you're any different from the herd of sheep that usually attends my lessons!"
Draco looked at his godfather with a satisfied smile. He was picking on Potter as best he could. The stupid four-eyes tried to be cheeky, batting his eyes and mumbling, unable to answer even the simplest questions. The redhead blushed and puffed, while the beaver girl, who had also ended up in Gryffindor, unsuccessfully raised her hand, trying to answer. This made Snape even more angry, and he even gave the lion faculty a couple of penalty points. Finally, the difficult lesson for the Gryffindors ended, and Draco, joking cheerfully with his friends about the stupid lions, rushed out of the classroom.
In the first flying lesson, Malfoy was already looking forward to making the bespectacled Gryffindor fall into the mud. Draco had been flying on a broomstick since childhood and was hoping to show off his skills in front of all his classmates. However, the boy who had survived once again ruined young Malfoy's plans. For some unknown reason, Potter flew as if he had been born and raised on a broomstick. Any pirouettes came so easily to him that Draco couldn't believe his eyes. And when they clashed over a reminder note from another Gryffindor student, the clumsy Longbottom, Potter surprised everyone present with his antics. Draco, rising quite high into the air and leaning forward on his broom, threw the reminder down with all his might, but the hated Potter caught it just above the ground.
True, Draco was happy to hear the cries of Madam Trelawney, who was running towards the students, and hoped that Potter would be expelled for violating the order not to approach broomsticks without a teacher. But to his horror, Potter was not only not expelled, but was even accepted into the Gryffindor team as a Seeker. For Draco, who had dreamed of becoming a Seeker from the moment he first sat on a broomstick, this was a crushing blow to his pride. In the evening, wiping the angry tears of resentment and disappointment from his face, he sat down at the table to write a letter to his parents, complaining about the injustice of the school administration.
Time flew by, and Draco continued to get good grades in class, occasionally clashing with Potter. At Christmas, he came home and told his worried parents and brother about the incident with the troll and the huge three-headed dog that lived somewhere in the castle. Back at Hogwarts, Draco continued his studies. But when exams were just around the corner, an incident occurred that forced him to write an urgent message to his brother.
***
Cassius sat on the sofa in Malfoy Manor reading a message from Draco. The little brat had sent a letter complaining about Potter again. He didn't want to be friends with such a magnificent Malfoy and had gotten on a broomstick for the first time, but he flew better than someone who had been riding a broomstick since he was five.
Cassius smiled as he read his younger brother's complaints. Draco, having been raised in a rich and powerful family, sometimes failed to understand that the world did not revolve around his "highness."
"Such painful blows to his ego will be useful to the little one; they will teach him to adapt to reality faster than all the teachers who drilled the young aristocrat," the wizard decided with a smirk.Cassius was intrigued by one moment when his brother told him how he had been watching Potter, Granger and Weasley, who had begun visiting the half-giant too often. One day, his brother saw a real dragon in Hagrid's hut. It grew and soon began to cause trouble for Hagrid. It even managed to burn the gamekeeper's beard and bite Weasley, whom Draco couldn't stand. Malfoy overheard the inseparable trio of friends from Gryffindor suggest to the gamekeeper that he send the dragon to a sanctuary with the help of one of the Weasley brothers. The gamekeeper was a little sad, but agreed anyway. Tomorrow night, Potter and company will drag the dragon to the astronomy tower, where Weasley's friends, the smugglers, will pick him up. Draco wanted to lead the professors on guard duty around the castle to the intruders.
Cassius rubbed his forehead thoughtfully: "Even such a young dragon is a very valuable acquisition. Blood, heart, liver, even meat and skin. A good potion maker will always find something to use in potions. No wonder those Weasleys decided to 'help' the stupid giant. I bet they've already divided the galleons for the beast."
Cassius sat down to write a letter to his brother, asking him not to get involved in this matter. It was not worth getting involved in this story, because the professors on duty could consider Draco himself a violator, and his father would certainly not be pleased if the chairman of the board of trustees was informed of his son's unworthy behaviour.
After sending the letter by owl, Cassius began to get ready. Casting an illusion of a normal young man's appearance, he crossed the fireplace into Hogsmeade in the evening and lost himself in the crowd of people walking the streets. At night, he flew closer to the gamekeeper's hut on his broomstick and settled down comfortably, hiding under an invisibility spell. After a while, he heard the soft sound of footsteps, but there was no one to be seen. Although the moon lit up the surroundings quite brightly, the broken shadows cast by the trees and the hut itself quietly concealed those who were walking from prying eyes. Then the door to the forester's hut opened just as quietly, but in the bright beam of light falling from the doorway, Cassius again saw no one. Moving closer to the window, he saw an interesting scene through the loosely drawn curtains.
Hagrid was struggling to stuff a dragon, which was already slightly larger than a calf but still looked small compared to the half-giant, into a large box. Hagrid pressed down on the dragon with his foot to keep it from getting out, then dropped a bundle of dried rats and, for some reason, a bottle of firewhisky into the box. Then, sniffing, he pulled a large stuffed bear from his bosom and put it in there too. Then he abruptly removed his foot from the dragon's head and began to hammer the lid shut.
An indignant roar came from the box, followed by the sound of something tearing. The dragon clearly did not like his new home or his gifts for the journey. Near the wall, Cassius noticed two Hogwarts students, a boy and a girl, who were staring at the box in amazement.
"It's so huge!" cried the girl. "How are we going to carry it, Harry?"
"I don't know," said the boy with round glasses, also staring in bewilderment at the giant object.
"Well, there's a weight-relief charm on the box," said the gamekeeper modestly. "It won't be too heavy for you."
"Bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sniffed as the boy and girl covered the box with a piece of cloth, which made it disappear from view. Then the children themselves climbed under it, disappearing instantly. "A giant invisibility cloak?" Cassius whistled in surprise.
"Mummy will never forget you!" sobbed the gamekeeper, who was seeing off the two teenagers, panting with exertion.
Waiting for the door to the hut to slam shut, Cassius followed the teenagers, who, despite the invisibility cloak, were clearly visible and audible. They were panting and groaning, struggling to move the heavy box, even with the weight-reducing spell. The cloak covered the teenagers and their load almost completely, but the legs of the children walking along the path were still visible. Moving away from the hut, Cassius silently cast a powerful sleeping spell on the pair. The Hogwarts students immediately collapsed onto the path, along with the box. Coming closer, Cassius carefully examined the hapless adventurers. The girl was quite ordinary, with chestnut hair and regular features. She was distinguished by an unusually pure and rich aura, which indicated the young witch's good magical potential.
"Definitely first generation," thought Cassius, "no ancestral curses or connection to the source."
But the boy with round glasses attracted more attention. Cassius looked at him in amazement. The small, bespectacled misunderstanding was simply wrapped in a magical shell. The only place where this incredibly powerful protection had a flaw was on the boy's forehead, where the famous scar was located. Cassius tried to remember where he had seen it before and suddenly realised. In his teacher's scrolls, there was a rather telling example of how light magic could be just as cruel as dark magic. The mirror ritual was proof of that.The mother sacrificed her own life for the sake of her firstborn, depriving her family of the opportunity to have other children. The father of such a child also often died. In return, the child received powerful magical protection capable of pulling him out of any deadly predicament. However, all this lasted until the age of seventeen, after which the lucky child turned into a completely ordinary magician, incapable of truly powerful magic. In ancient times, this method of protection was used only when a family was threatened with complete extermination by a powerful enemy and there was no other way to save at least someone. Moreover, when forming such protection, if the mother and father did not have enough magical power to create it, the ritual also destroyed the family altar. And then the child, who was the last of the family, had to start all over again or join another family.
Cassius shook his head. Now it was clear what the headmaster had in mind. Voldemort would bang his head against such protection over and over again until he died or the four-eyed boy turned seventeen. Without further ado, the wizard quickly transfigured the copy of the dragon and carefully replaced it in the box. Then he nobly levitated the Hogwarts students closer to the castle, removed the sleeping spell, gently caressed the teenagers with Confundus, and disappeared into the night. Flying away on his broomstick to defend the castle, Cassius went to his room in Hogsmeade, which he had rented in advance.
Two days later, Cassius received a letter from his brother complaining about the punishment he had received. He had not listened to his brother's advice and had gone to report Potter to the teachers, but as a result, he was punished himself. As punishment, all of them, except for the mudblood, were forced to search for traces of wounded unicorns in the forbidden forest with the gamekeeper at night, but at some point, he couldn't take it anymore and ran back. And he did the right thing, because half an hour later, the centaurs brought a pale and frightened Potter back from the forest. The bespectacled boy wanted to shout that Voldemort had returned, but Draco was no longer listening, as he had returned to school. Cassius demanded that his brother stay away from Potter as much as possible, as it could be dangerous.
"Draco!" he wrote. "There's some kind of intrigue swirling around that little Potter, it will be risky for you to be near him. Stay away!"
When Draco arrived at the manor after his first year, he thanked Cassius warmly, as it turned out that Potter had been beaten up and even ended up in the infirmary. Malfoy did not know what had happened, but according to his acquaintances, Potter looked extremely exhausted and ill. The young Slytherin was deeply outraged that Dumbledore had awarded Gryffindor a huge number of points, thereby depriving his house of victory. No sane student believed in the delusional achievements concocted by the headmaster to pull the lion house out of the doldrums. Only the jubilant Gryffindors celebrated their victory, while the rest looked at each other in bewilderment.
***
On the same day, Dumbledore was also summing up the results of the past school year. Although Tom had not been caught, the training of the "hero" was in full swing. The boy had seen his enemy and even fought him. Of course, as soon as the defences sensed danger, they instantly burned the attacker, but the spirit of the Dark Lord, due to his kinship with the Horcrux in the boy's forehead, managed to escape. Quirrell was sorry, but the following year, there weren't enough students who wanted to study Muggle Studies, so it wasn't a big deal. The stone had to be burned with hellfire; Flamel never joked about his words, and Dumbledore did not want to risk Hogwarts and his life. Flamel, as promised, closed the estate to everyone, and rumours spread throughout the wizarding world that the Philosopher's Stone had been destroyed. Now the ancient French had a few months left, after which they would rest peacefully in the family crypt. Dumbledore poured some nuts into the phoenix's mouth and happily popped another lemon wedge into his own. Daylight cast shadows through the arched window, creating bizarre patterns on the walls of the study, and the old wizard busied himself with sorting through the accumulated papers.
***
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