This time, it was well and truly over.
The lightning-bolt scar on Harry's forehead no longer throbbed.
Only then did Harry let the strength leave his body, collapsing onto his back.
And then, he grinned.
Even if Voldemort had been unable to use even a fraction of his true power, hadn't he still managed to land a solid blow?
Lying there, Harry endlessly twirled his wand in his hand, a wide grin plastered on his face.
...So, how was he supposed to get out of here now?
Having driven off Voldemort, he was surely guaranteed an O (Outstanding) on his graduation exam.
As he pondered this for a moment, Harry heard a faint *whoosh* from beside him and shot upright.
It was the distinctive swirling sound that preceded Apparition.
And, as far as Harry knew, there was only one person who could Apparate freely within the densely warded grounds of Hogwarts.
With a soft *pop*, the person who appeared was, just as Harry expected, Aisen. But there was someone else with him, a hand on his shoulder.
"Master!"
Harry wanted to greet him properly, but all the strength had drained from his body, so he just sat there and waved.
Aisen grinned and said, "Harry, you did very well. Much better than I expected. You pass the graduation exam."
The other person who had appeared with Aisen was Headmaster Dumbledore.
Harry looked at Dumbledore in surprise.
"Professor Dumbledore! Weren't you in London?"
Dumbledore looked proud of Harry, but unlike Aisen, his face also held a rather troubled expression as he replied.
"Oh, Harry. Of course, I returned from London immediately because of what happened to you. As you know, physical distance isn't much of a constraint for us."
Then, with a sigh, he praised Harry.
"And... Harry. You possess truly wonderful magical skill. Though I can't help but wonder if there might have been another way besides the Killing Curse."
Oops. He saw him use the Killing Curse.
Harry's face instantly transformed into the picture of an innocent lamb.
"But Professor, it was the only way I could be sure of beating Quirrell."
Beside him, Aisen nodded and muttered, "There's certainly no method as surefire as Avada Kedavra. No matter the skill gap, one hit from that green beam and it's over."
Dumbledore spoke with a troubled expression.
"Harry, my boy. Of course, there is no method as simple as the Killing Curse, but simple answers are simple for a reason. Power that is easily gained is easily wielded. As a professor at Hogwarts, I can't help but worry..."
Aisen retorted, "Ah, Albus. Even Hogwarts professors resort to the Killing Curse in situations where they can't fight back. Professor Baccar, who was one of the ancient Keepers, used the Killing Curse to prevent a catastrophe when he knew he couldn't win."
Faced with a specific example, Dumbledore was unable to argue.
Aisen turned to Harry and said, "But Harry, there's some truth to what Albus is saying. The Killing Curse is power that comes far too easily. If you rely on it, your magical skills won't grow, and you might find yourself unable to handle a variety of situations."
Hearing this, Dumbledore stared intently at Aisen. He looked like he had a lot to say but kept his mouth shut. Still, from what Harry could see, his gaze carried the nuance of, *You're one to talk*.
There was no way Aisen didn't feel what Harry felt. Seeing Dumbledore's look, Aisen shrugged and said, "Me? I'm good at other spells besides the Killing Curse, aren't I?"
"Yes, you are. The problem is you're *excessively* good."
"My specialty is Ancient Magic, in any case. Don't tease me about a curse I rarely use unless I'm ridiculously outnumbered."
Dumbledore gave Aisen a pitying look as he grumbled.
Seeing them, Harry hesitated before speaking up.
"Um, Master, Professor."
"Just call us your masters, my boy. A professor is a type of master, is he not?"
"Tsk, trying to get the title of master for free, are you, Albus?"
Aisen grumbled but didn't deny it.
Harry spoke again.
"Um, then, Masters. Am I... similar to Voldemort?"
At his words, Aisen and Dumbledore blinked, then burst out laughing at the same time.
Seeing their reaction, Harry quickly added an explanation.
"Voldemort looked at me and said I was just like him as a child, like looking in a mirror."
Dumbledore smiled and said, "How could that be, Harry? You and Lord Voldemort were entirely different. He never understood love."
Still, Harry couldn't shake a nagging feeling.
"...But, it felt strange when I saw Voldemort."
"What did you feel?"
"It was like... seeing an old friend. I can't even use Legilimency, but I could understand his thoughts just by looking at his eyes. ...Could it be because I really am a person similar to Voldemort?"
Aisen let out a small laugh and said, "I've never met Voldemort, but what does it matter if you're similar? Just because you have the same starting point doesn't mean you'll have the same destination, does it?"
Dumbledore added, "Voldemort was a truly pitiful man. He believed that others must surely have the same flaws he did. There's no need to be swayed by such words."
Only then was Harry able to nod.
"Alright then." Dumbledore clapped his hands together.
"Let's retrieve the Philosopher's Stone and get back to Hogwarts. Your friends will be worried."
Ah, his friends. Finally remembering Hermione and Ron, Harry shot to his feet.
Dumbledore said to him, "They are already with Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing, so there's no need to worry."
"Ah, yes... but the Philosopher's Stone, where is it?"
Voldemort had definitely said the stone was hidden inside that mirror.
Puzzled, Harry continued his questioning.
"Come to think of it, that mirror showed me something strange a moment ago. It was a vision of me defeating Voldemort. Is that a mirror that shows the future?"
At his words, Dumbledore and Aisen shared a bitter smile.
"No, Harry. The mirror is not such a convenient object. It is the 'Mirror of Erised,' which shows the deepest desire of one's heart at that moment."
"Huh...? But, when I saw it before, it was just an ordinary, unremarkable mirror."
"That, Harry, is precisely what makes you an entirely different person from Voldemort. The only ones who can use that mirror as an ordinary mirror are great people who live their present to the fullest. Yes, Harry. People like you."
For a moment, Harry wanted to ask what Aisen and Dumbledore saw in the Mirror of Erised, but he quickly realized the question was rather rude and held his tongue.
"But Professor, what does the mirror showing one's desires have to do with the Philosopher's Stone?"
Dumbledore replied with a proud expression.
"Ah, that was my brilliant idea. Only someone who has the desire to find the Stone, but no intention of using it—someone who desires to possess the Stone, not use it—can retrieve it when they look in the mirror. A rather ingenious thought, isn't it?"
Ah. Harry nodded in understanding. Of course, one had to want the stone but not intend to use it. That way, their reflection in the mirror would be shown simply holding it.
Dumbledore nudged Harry forward.
"Harry, go and get the stone. Let's hurry back up and have a nice warm cup of tea."
Harry stood before the Mirror of Erised and imagined himself holding the Philosopher's Stone.
...At that moment, a past conversation suddenly came to mind.
*'In any case, that stone belongs to old man Nicolas, so there's no reason for us to touch it, is there?'*
*'That's true. Master, are you not interested in the Philosopher's Stone?'*
*'Well, I have no intention of using it, but it would certainly be worth studying if I had it. The old man never did let me borrow it.'*
*'I see...'*
Of course, Harry had no particular use for the Philosopher's Stone. Even so, remembering that conversation between him and Aisen, it could hardly be called Harry's fault that, for a fleeting moment, he had a thought.
*'Wouldn't Master be happy if I gave him the Philosopher's Stone?'*
If there was a problem, perhaps it was that the Mirror of Erised was simply too good at its job.
The mirror, having clearly read Harry's momentary stray thought, reflected an image of him handing the stone to Aisen and being praised.
*Wait, that's not it.*
Harry blinked at the mirror, then turned to Dumbledore, sweating profusely.
"Um, Professor."
"Hm? What is it?"
"The stone isn't coming out."
The strength vanished from Dumbledore's facial muscles.
◇─◇───◆─◈─◆───◇─◇
Albus, after asking Harry what he saw in the mirror, was now glaring at me.
Hey, why? What? How is this my fault? I'm innocent here.
In a tone sharper than usual, Albus said to me, "Sunbae-nim, since this is a problem you caused, please resolve it at once."
"Albus, my boy, if we're assigning blame, isn't it your fault for choosing such a troublesome method..."
Sighing, I stepped in front of the mirror.
*I want to get the Philosopher's Stone and get out of here quickly. I have no use for it, so this mindset should be enough.*
With that thought, I stared intently at the mirror for a long time. My reflection grinned, then held up the Philosopher's Stone.
And then, it popped it in its mouth.
As I stared at the mirror, dumbfounded, I suddenly felt a foreign object in my own mouth.
Fearing I would choke, I coughed frantically and spat it out. It was the real Philosopher's Stone.
Seriously, why did it have to give it to me like that? I grumbled inwardly as I picked up the stone.
Seeing this, Albus let out a sigh of immense relief.
"What a relief. Harry, let's go up now."
I took a moment to look at the Philosopher's Stone. A crimson-colored crystal. This was the object that granted Nicolas life?
It felt surreal that a single stone like this could bind the great alchemist to the mortal plane.
Finally, I pocketed the stone and said, "Alright, let's all go. Should we head to the hospital wing?"
And so, time passed.
In the hospital wing, Harry and I met Ron and Hermione and shared joyous hugs.
For some reason, Hermione gave me a meaningful smile that was a little creepy, but I figured it was probably nothing.
Both of them were exhausted, but neither was injured, so we were able to return to our dormitory soon after.
The adventure of that day was like a midsummer night's dream, remaining only as a shared memory between the three of them.
On the day the exam scores were released, Hermione told me with a look of despair, "How... how could you? You didn't even look at your textbooks!"
She was right; my textbooks were practically brand new. They were so pristine I could probably sell them secondhand for 90% of their original price.
Nevertheless, my scores were number one across the board, in both theory and practical, surpassing even Hermione. For comparison, in their case, Hermione beat Harry in theory, while Harry beat her in practical.
"How on earth did you do it?!"
To Hermione who was asking for my secret, I answered honestly.
"Just store the entire textbook in a corner of your mindscape and look it up when you need it."
"What kind of nonsense is that!"
Hermione clutched her hair and muttered about the injustice of it all, but the loser has no say. I smiled brightly and said, "Well then, I'll be taking that wish ticket from our bet. Not sure when I'll use it, though."
"Ughhh!"
Meanwhile, Ron, who had received average scores, couldn't care less about his grades and was busy playing chess.
And then, the day of the end-of-term feast arrived.
Having not lost any points for any particular reason, Gryffindor easily secured the victory thanks to Harry's Snitch points and Hermione's class participation points.
Judging by Albus's expression, it felt like he would have just showered Gryffindor with extra points if they had been short anyway, so the victory was a foregone conclusion.
I might be accused of favoritism, but I was a Gryffindor to the bone, so I didn't say a word of protest. Gryffindor must always win, of course.
The end-of-term feast concluded with three of the houses happy, while Slytherin looked like they had chewed on a bug.
At last, the first year at Hogwarts had come to a close.
***