Harry had pieced together the truth, and at the same time, another thought surfaced in his mind—did Dumbledore know that Lord Voldemort might have already infiltrated Hogwarts?
Harry made a beeline for the Headmaster's office, a place he frequented because he often had to carry the Sorting Hat.
The stone gargoyle at the entrance required a password, as always. Dumbledore's passwords were typically famous desserts, and he often cycled through familiar ones.
Harry suspected the password was more of a playful ruse; the real condition was whether Dumbledore actually wanted to see you.
Once again, he found Dumbledore in his pajamas, munching on some... indescribable cockroach candy. In China, they called it "Guangdong Double Pigtails," but here it was known as "Cockroach Cluster."
It was probably just a type of hard-shell, gooey chocolate, not much different from Chocolate Frogs in essence, but the appearance was utterly revolting.
Even Harry, who had spent years as a mercenary, found it disgusting. Truly disgusting. Whoever invented it must have been a genius in need of an exorcist.
"Harry, it's rather late. What brings you here?" Dumbledore yawned.
"I have a question for you, about Quirrell again. We were discussing how Quirrell is one of Voldemort's minions and what his goal might be—I've figured out that he's after the Philosopher's Stone. I can also sense that you want me to steal it, or rather, to stop him from stealing it."
Dumbledore blinked. "Oh, I never said that, Harry. You always overthink things—"
"Overthinking sometimes, I'll admit," Harry cut him off, "but my experience tells me that if you don't think enough while in a critical position, you're likely to end up dead."
He pressed on: "What I want to ask now is, did you already know that Voldemort isn't just remotely controlling Quirrell? That he might be possessing Quirrell's body, preparing to steal the Philosopher's Stone himself?"
Dumbledore's face grew serious, then softened again.
"Perhaps you're overthinking again. Voldemort wouldn't dare infiltrate Hogwarts."
"Professor Dumbledore, are you treating me like a fool?"
What made Dumbledore so disrespectful of his intelligence?
Dumbledore had powerful Legilimency. He rarely used it actively, but even its passive function made it nearly impossible for anyone to lie to his face—unless they were a trusted acquaintance he chose not to probe or someone skilled in Occlumency. Voldemort likely had similar abilities.
Harry didn't need anything so complicated. His instincts were enough to tell when someone was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.
And right now, Dumbledore was doing exactly that.
"Maybe it's because I'm a student and treat you and the other professors with respect, which has led to some misjudgment on your part. I respect you greatly, but I hope you won't truly see me as just a child."
Aside from Snape and Quirrell, Harry always addressed every teacher as "Professor," even in private.
But with Professor Dumbledore, he couldn't feel the same respect reciprocated.
Dumbledore was momentarily at a loss for words.
Indeed, after this year, he should have known this boy was extraordinary. Even growing up in a Muggle household, Harry had become someone impossible to fully understand.
"It seems I have my answer. You did suspect that Voldemort might have infiltrated Hogwarts... You really dared to... Of course, you're confident you can suppress Voldemort, so you dared to..." Harry's mind raced. "I should've realized earlier. When I mentioned the unicorn being drained by some unknown dark magical creature, your reaction..."
Harry felt a pang of frustration. Quirrell's malice, the two distinct magical signatures, the intense killing intent, the curse, the powerful dark magic on the unicorn, the growing connection between his scar and Voldemort's magic—he should have put it together sooner.
And then there was Dumbledore's secrecy.
He had figured it out but set a trap with the Philosopher's Stone, hoping Harry and Voldemort would compete for it.
Perhaps to test his character, or to see if the power that defeated Voldemort at age one was still functioning?
When had it started? With his limited information, Harry couldn't know, but Dumbledore, as Headmaster with far greater magical knowledge than Harry, Hermione, and Ron combined, must have realized Voldemort's presence much earlier.
"Didn't you say the unicorn's blood, when forcibly taken, wasn't worth the cost and had little effect?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore finally offered an explanation: "For most people, that's true. Unicorn blood is rich with life's magic, capable of extending life and providing magical protection with incredible effects—but only if willingly given, like the blessing you received from a unicorn."
"When it's forcibly taken, the blood carries a curse. Those who drink it will live a half-life, a cursed existence. But Voldemort, having been killed by you once, is already in a half-dead state. With his expertise in curses, he could mitigate the worst effects and barely harness the unicorn blood's power."
"So now you're not hiding Voldemort's involvement? Why keep it from me in the first place? Did you want to shock me when I faced him?" Harry couldn't fathom Dumbledore's reasoning.
Dumbledore had never shown him malice, so Harry had always approached him with goodwill, only to be easily brushed off before.
If not for his sharp instincts, he might have been kept in the dark forever.
He'd regret it only when Voldemort ambushed him.
Even if the protective magic still worked, Harry wouldn't stake his life on something he didn't fully understand.
Had a peaceful life dulled his sense of danger?
Harry began to reflect. Sometimes, people killed without malice. Some didn't even realize they were doing him harm.
Dumbledore shook his head. "I didn't mean to hide anything. On one hand, I genuinely hoped you'd face Voldemort yourself and uncover the truth. On the other, I often lack complete certainty. Unless I fully understand a situation's cause and effect, I usually don't speak up."
Dumbledore was being candid, but Harry felt it was also an excuse.
The truth was, this man was probably an old riddle-master, never sharing his secrets even when he was 80-90% certain, keeping everything to himself.
Was he underestimating Harry?
Harry shook his head. "Fine. Since I've figured out his identity, it's simple now. I kept Quirrell alive to catch Voldemort, and now he's delivered himself to me."
At just eleven, during his regrowth's weakest phase, Harry's strength attribute was 20 points, though he could only muster 15 at best.
After nearly a year of development, recovering roughly one point every six months, his baseline strength was now 17 points, with brief bursts to full power. He'd also gained better control over his divine power, which had surged from 1 to 3 points, and learned to wield his charisma through magic.
Strength was the foundation of combat, and Harry now had the resolve to kill.
The enemy was in Hogwarts. Find him. Kill him!
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