The exam was over.
Harry, who had been released from the pressure of the thick textbooks for the first time in a while, was lounging in the dormitory.
As he was leisurely enjoying the sunlight while staring blankly out the window by his bed, Harry's expression soured at a sudden pain in his forehead.
The exams were over, what kind of headache was this? This must be a side effect of him, a practical-minded person, having to cram theory into his head.
Harry, who was grumbling to himself, soon realized that the pain was not a headache.
A common headache is often caused by a problem with the muscles in the head. In other words, most headaches can be considered muscle pain.
—He seemed to remember his master saying something like that.—
But this pain was far from muscle pain.
If he had to categorize it, it was closer to a burning pain, as if something hot was touching a part of his forehead.
With no idea what the problem could be, Harry, who was thinking of going to the hospital wing to see Madam Pomfrey, placed a hand on his forehead and his expression immediately hardened.
Because, from the finger he had placed on the source of the pain, he felt a rough texture.
A texture that would be felt from a scar, not the elastic skin of an eleven-year-old.
The source of the pain was the very lightning-bolt scar he had almost completely forgotten about.
Harry, who was exceptionally bright for his age, was able to immediately recall the magical meaning of his scar hurting.
To put it in magical terms, it meant that his body was feeling the jinx of its connection with his soul being severed by an external attack. Since that's hard to understand, to put it in a simpler, more Greek tragedy-like term.
—It meant that his destiny was approaching.
Sensing this, Harry turned his head to seek advice from his dependable guardian, Aisen, but Aisen was not there.
He was sure he had been there just a moment ago, but Aisen was not in his bed.
And in his place, for some reason, was a single letter.
Harry, feeling his heart pound, approached the bed and carefully opened the letter.
[—To Harry. Harry, I have one piece of good news and one piece of bad news. The good news is that Albus and I are going on a business trip to London tonight. This will bring peace to Hogwarts for a while. The bad news is that it was Quirrell who gave Hagrid the dragon egg. I trust that a wise boy like you will understand what this means. Always keep my teachings in mind, and I ask you to patrol the third-floor corridor tonight. Good luck on your first-year final exam. —Your master, Aisen Knightly.]
Aisen Knightly, not Aisen Potter. It was the first time in almost a year that he had heard his master's real name.
In other words, this letter was an evaluation of his year at Hogwarts from the perspective of his master, not his classmate.
Only then was Harry able to understand the reason why his scar was throbbing.
Tonight, Quirrell is going to get the Philosopher's Stone.
And he was the only one who could stop him.
What an absurdly difficult final exam. Harry let out a small laugh.
Of course, if things went south, Dumbledore or Aisen might appear to intervene, but as Aisen had mentioned, that would mean he would get a 'T' (Troll) on his final exam.
If that was the case, what did he have to do to get a good grade?
After thinking for a moment, Harry soon knew what he had to do.
After gently touching his scar, Harry shot up from the bed and put on his cloak.
He carefully folded his Invisibility Cloak and put it in his robes, then he approached his two friends who were in the Gryffindor common room.
Hermione was still struggling with her textbooks, even though the exams were over.
"Ugh, such an easy problem! Wouldn't Aisen have gotten this right? Why couldn't this idiot get it right!"
Hermione, who was groaning as she ruffled her already messy hair.
Ron was smiling as he played a game of wizard's chess with his brothers.
"Hah, Fred. Is that all you've got? I think your skills have gotten worse."
"Alright, I admit defeat. But little brother, I'm not Fred, I'm George."
"Don't be ridiculous, Fred. Don't use my name just because you lost."
Ron, with his legs crossed and a very arrogant tone, was teasing his brothers.
Harry asked his friends.
"Hey guys, could you help me out tonight?"
As a Gryffindor, there was no shame in receiving help from a friend, was there?
And that evening.
In the dead of night, with the moon high in the sky, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, huddled together under the Invisibility Clo-ak, were just leaving the Gryffindor dormitory.
Ron asked in an excited voice from under the cloak.
"So, you're saying that Quirrell is going to steal the Philosopher's Stone tonight? Taking advantage of the fact that Professor Dumbledore is away?"
"That's right. He must have gotten some information out of Hagrid while giving him the dragon egg."
Even after hearing Harry's calm answer, Hermione asked with a suspicious expression.
"But, even if that's true, why did he tell us, of all people?"
"Well, it's not like the professors would believe us if we told them, would they? They'd probably start by interrogating us about where we learned about the Philosopher's Stone."
"No, I wasn't talking about the professors..."
Harry asked, bewildered.
"Then who are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about your brother, of course. Why is Aisen not involved in this? In terms of magical skill or anything else, wouldn't he be the most helpful person?"
Ron also agreed with Hermione's words.
"Come to think of it, why didn't you call Aisen?"
Harry, who was momentarily at a loss for words, was able to quickly find an excuse.
"Aisen is currently being held by Snape. You know, because of the special lessons. If I call him out while he's with a professor, it would cause a misunderstanding, wouldn't it?"
"Hmm, I see..."
Though Hermione still looked suspicious, Harry put on a brazen expression. It's not like Hermione could use Legilimency, so how would she know?
Before Hermione could continue her suspicions, they soon reached the third-floor corridor.
They heard the sound of Filch on patrol for a moment, but with the power of the Invisibility Cloak, they were able to easily shake him off.
Remembering the time they had almost been caught by Mrs. Norris, this time they had sprayed a perfume that cats disliked, so there was no problem.
Ron asked with a nervous expression.
"What do you think is behind this?"
"Well, we'll have to go in to find out. —Alohomora."
The door opened smoothly at Hermione's unlocking spell.
Harry gave a bitter smile at the door that opened so easily to a first-year's magic.
The other kids didn't seem to suspect anything, but this was clearly not the level of security for the Philosopher's Stone.
Perhaps Professor Dumbledore, or Master Aisen, was involved.
And as they carefully opened the door and went inside, and their eyes adjusted to the dark room, they couldn't help but be startled.
Grrrrr...
Because there, before them, was a three-headed dog, a Cerberus.
Seeing it, Ron, who had no tolerance for scary magical creatures, said in a trembling voice.
"Uh, um, Harry? I don't remember you saying there would be a monster like this."
The only fortunate thing was that the monster was asleep.
From the side, the strings of a harp were moving on their own, creating a melody. Perhaps that was the reason.
Seeing it, Hermione said quietly.
"It seems to be asleep because of the music! Let's hurry and go down in the meantime."
"Wait a minute, just in case."
To go down relying only on the harp music, which could stop at any moment, was something Harry, who had seen too much, could not do.
He lightly waved his wand and aimed it at the dogs, and after a moment, he gestured for them to go.
Hermione asked Harry.
"Harry, what did you do?"
"I created nitrogen gas near the dog's nose. No matter that it's a magical creature, as long as it breathes oxygen, it should be knocked out for a while."
"Goodness. That's really... vicious, no, wise, Harry."
"Ni... what's that?"
Leaving behind Ron, who was the only one who didn't know Muggle science and was bewildered, they quickly went down.
After that, they passed through several more traps.
The Devil's Snare was completely burned away by Harry's Incendio spell, and in the room full of flying keys, they were able to find the right key easily after making all the keys fall to the ground with the Descendo spell.
However, they couldn't just pass through all the rooms. The gates of the two professors, who his master had acknowledged as the most outstanding at Hogwarts, were the problem.
In Professor McGonagall's wizard's chess gate, Ron had to sacrifice himself, and Snape's gate could only be passed by one person.
He had considered just breaking through with force, but Harry's magical skills were not yet mature enough to destroy the traps of the two professors.
In the end, the one to go on to the end was already decided. Perhaps, even from eleven years ago.
Hermione saw Harry off with a very anxious look.
"Harry, you have to come back safely."
"Of course."
And Harry, who drank the potion Hermione had pointed out and passed through the magical flames, was finally able to face his enemy.
A professor with a turban wrapped around his head. It was, without a doubt, Quirrell.
Quirrell, who was facing Harry, laughed with a cold laugh.
"Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. You've finally reached me."
And with that greeting, Quirrell clapped his hands and summoned a rope from somewhere, and tried to bind Harry's wrists with it.
Harry's expression hardened. He was not the bumbling Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
The Quirrell in this place was a master of the sophisticated Dark Arts.
But Harry was also a well-prepared wizard. He was not one to be caught by such a simple spell.
But he judged that it would be disadvantageous to fight like this, so he decided to pretend to be caught, and aimed only at the knot of the rope and erased it with a Vanishing Spell.
Harry's hands were free, but on the outside, he was tightly bound.
"Professor Quirrell. It's a real shame to meet you like this."
Seeing Harry's calm reaction, Quirrell raised one corner of his lip.
"Oho, Potter. To be so calm even after seeing my true colors, this is quite a surprise. Don't tell me you s-s-suspected the s-s-stuttering Quirrell?"
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice, after you tried so hard to knock me off my broom during the Quidditch match?"
"Ah, that Quidditch match!"
Quirrell's expression twisted at the mention of the Quidditch match.
"Things would have been so much easier if I had taken care of you then! That crazy mongrel Snape must have lost his mind, to have cast an Unforgivable Curse on me in the middle of a Quidditch match with so many people watching!"
Hearing that, Harry sneered inwardly. A pleasant misjudgment. That man had no idea that the one who had used the Cruciatus Curse was Harry himself.
His opponent, Quirrell, was a master of the Dark Arts. No matter how outstanding his own abilities were, there was a gap between them that was difficult to close.
Harry felt his mouth go dry. A real battle, where his life could really be on the line, was completely different from training.
Harry desperately wracked his brain.
Quirrell and himself. There were more factors than he thought that could bridge the gap between them.
First, Quirrell's carelessness.
Harry's gaze fell on the mirror behind Quirrell. He was sure he had seen that mirror somewhere before.
Quirrell, as if he had already subdued Harry, was paying no attention to him and was staring intently at that mirror.
"What on earth do I have to do? Do I have to break this mirror?"
And, a spell that is not dependent on the user.
At least, in this moment, there was only one such spell Harry could think of.
I will kill this unforgivable person who tried to kill me.
With the most sincere resolve of his life, Harry held the word in his mouth.
With this word.
Vanish.
Harry held his wand tightly in his hand and waited for that one moment.
The moment when Quirrell was at his most careless. This very moment, when he didn't even feel a threat from this little first-year brat.
Harry suddenly thrust out his wand and finally spat out the word he had been holding in.
[Avada Kedavra!]
And, an old man, who had been staring into a crystal ball in the Headmaster's office, spat out his tea.
◇─◇───◆─◈─◆───◇─◇
Man I spat out my water while translating this.
Hopefully, you guys give me all your power stones so I don't have to use [Avada Kedavra!] on you all.
Think carefully.
a