socalfunplaces Chapter 150 The Truth in the Principal's Office
Chapter 150 The Truth in the Principal's Office
Chapter 150 The Truth in the Principal's Office
In the days following the distribution of the spyglasses, Karen's mind was far from at peace. He could still sense Professor Quirrell's twisted soul and Voldemort's thick, malevolent parasitic magic. Even from a distance, during their chance encounters in the corridor, he could clearly see the extremely unsettling interplay of dark red and grayish-white magic emanating from beneath the purple cloak, making his eyes uncomfortable.
He knew that relying solely on the Eagle's Nest's protection, the badge's buffer, the Spyglass's early warning system, and his companions' special training was far from enough. He wasn't sure how much Dumbledore actually knew, nor what kind of scheme he had devised in the current situation. Would it be the same as in the original story?
Will he and his roommates be included in his plans?
Passive waiting was not Cullen's style. He needed information, information from Dumbledore. After careful consideration, he made his decision.
One afternoon, Charms class ended. Karen didn't leave immediately, but waited until all the other students had left the classroom before quickly walking to the front of the class. Professor Flitwick was tidying up his lesson plan. Seeing Karen, he smiled kindly: "Oh, Karen, is something the matter? You did an excellent job with the Levitation Charm combination exercise!"
"Thank you, Professor." Karen bowed slightly, then lowered her voice, her tone solemn, "Professor, I have something very important to discuss with Headmaster Dumbledore as soon as possible. Could you please convey this request to me? Or tell me how I can contact the Headmaster directly?"
Professor Flitwick's smile faded; he keenly sensed the weight and seriousness in Karen's words. The short professor scrutinized Karen, his grey-blue eyes filled with concern: "Something very important? Karen, can you tell me roughly what it is? Is it some kind of trouble? Or is it about a major academic discovery?" He leaned towards the latter.
“Professor,” Karen carefully chose his words, “it involves the security of the castle and the condition of a certain professor. It’s very complicated, and I think it’s only appropriate to report directly to the headmaster. Please believe me, this is no small matter.” His eyes were calm and firm, carrying an undeniable seriousness.
Professor Flitwick looked into Cullen's eyes and remained silent for a few seconds. He had a deep trust in this exceptionally gifted and precocious student. Finally, he nodded. "Very well, Cullen. I trust your judgment. I will immediately use my Patronus to send a message to Albus. Do you need me to come with you?"
"Thank you, Professor. But I think it would be more appropriate to speak with the principal alone," Karen declined.
"I understand." Professor Flitwick asked no further questions. He drew his wand and whispered, "Patron Saint!" A small, delicate hummingbird Patronus, shimmering with silver-blue light, appeared in response and fluttered merrily around Professor Flitwick. "Please tell Headmaster Albus Dumbledore that Cullen Hawthorne has something extremely important and urgent to report to me in person and requests that a meeting be arranged as soon as possible."
The silver hummingbird nodded, transformed into a streak of light, and vanished instantly through the classroom wall.
"Go, Karen. Go straight to the principal's office. Let me think of the password for the next couple of days. Albus seems to really like macarons lately, you could try those," Professor Flitwick instructed.
"Thank you, Professor Flitwick!" Karen said sincerely, then turned and quickly left the classroom.
Eighth floor, entrance to the principal's office. An ugly stone monster crouches before the spiral staircase. Karen takes a deep breath and clearly pronounces the command: "Macaron."
The stone monster rumbled softly, leaping nimbly to the side. Behind it, the wall cracked open, revealing a slowly ascending spiral staircase. Karen stepped onto the stairs, spiraling upwards until she stopped before a gleaming oak door.
Karen knocked gently on the door.
"Come in," Dumbledore's voice came from inside the door.
Cullen entered. Dumbledore sat behind his enormous desk, half-moon spectacles perched on his high nose, his blue eyes gleaming with a gentle yet sharp light through the lenses. Several documents lay before him, but clearly, his attention was entirely on Cullen.
"Good afternoon, Cullen." Dumbledore smiled and gestured to the armchair in front of him. "Would you like a cup of honey tea? Or perhaps try some of the newly arrived Spicy Honey? I also have some macarons that Perenaar just sent. Please have a seat; Professor Flitwick's messenger told me..."
You have something important to do.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster. Thank you, but no need. Perenaar sent me some too." Karen sat down as instructed.
"So," Dumbledore said, placing his fingers interlaced on the table, leaning slightly forward, his gaze calm yet seemingly piercing, "what important matter has brought you to see me so solemnly? Is it about your amazing summer studies with Nico and Castor? Or is something else troubling you?"
Karen did not move back; instead, he chose to get straight to the point and get to the heart of the matter.
"Headmaster," Cullen's voice was clear and steady, her grey-blue eyes looking directly at Dumbledore, "I'm here because of Professor Quirrell."
Dumbledore's smile remained unchanged, but his blue eyes behind his glasses seemed even deeper, like a calm sea concealing a storm. "Quirinus? What's wrong with him? Is it a teaching problem? I heard his style is rather unique."
"It's not just a matter of teaching style, Principal," Karen said, her tone emphasizing. "It's about him as a person, or rather, what's parasitic on him."
Dumbledore didn't speak, but simply looked at Cullen quietly, encouraging him to continue. The only sounds in the room were the soft hum of the silverware turning and the gentle snoring of a portrait on the wall.
Cullen took a deep breath, deciding to directly reveal her talent, since Dumbledore had already noticed it. "Headmaster, as you know, I possess a special talent. Nico and the others call it the 'Eye of Truth.' It allows me to see the true nature of magical flow."
Dumbledore's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, but he remained attentive. Fawkes gently shook his feathers on the perch.
"I can see Professor Quirrell's own magic," Karen continued, trying to use objective visual language. "It's an extremely weak, chaotic, morbidly grayish-white flow of magic. It's severely suppressed and bound, almost on its last legs. This matches the tension and weakness he's showing."
He paused, his voice growing more somber: "But what entwines him, seeps into his very bones, and even replaces a portion of his magical core, is another force. An extremely powerful, twisted, dark red stream of magic, filled with violence, greed, and an inhuman, icy will. Like the most venomous parasite, it clings tightly to Quirrell's soul and the source of his magic, constantly drawing upon, devouring, and suppressing him. The boundaries between their magic are clear, yet because of this forced parasitic bondage, they present a nauseatingly intertwined state."
Karen clearly stated her final assessment: "Professor Quirrell is no longer himself. He has been possessed by an extremely powerful, evil, and malicious dark entity."
Silence fell over the office. Even the spinning silverware seemed to slow down. The portraits on the wall, no longer feigning sleep, opened their eyes wide and listened intently. Fox let out an extremely soft, sigh-like chirp.
Dumbledore remained silent. He showed no surprise, no doubt, and didn't even press Cullen for details about the "Eye of Truth." His deep blue eyes were fixed on Cullen, as if scrutinizing through his young face, examining the weight of every word and the truth it implied. After what felt like an eternity, Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice still gentle, yet carrying a profound, all-knowing weight:
"Your insight is truly remarkable, Cullen," he sighed softly, "and it's also a heartbreaking confirmation." "So," Cullen pressed, her voice urgent, "what is that parasite's target? Headmaster, during the summer, both Professor Nicolas Flamel and Professor Castor subtly warned me that danger would befall Hogwarts in the new school year. Considering Quirrell's, or rather, the state of that entity within him—it's extremely weak and desperately needs powerful magic or life force to sustain or even recover"—Cullen began to guide the conversation with crucial information. "Furthermore, Professor Flamel mentioned that he possessed an extremely important item, previously stored deep within Gringotts' vault in England. Just recently, Gringotts experienced that shocking intrusion that rocked the wizarding world! Although the intruders didn't seem to succeed, this is clearly no coincidence."
Cullen's gaze was fixed on Dumbledore: "Now, that parasite has appeared at Hogwarts, and its condition is so perfectly in line with its thirst for a powerful magical source. I speculate that the item that Professor Nico mentioned may have already been transferred to Hogwarts? And that is the parasite's target for this trip?" In fact, Cullen, who was familiar with the plot, already knew everything, but she still had to come up with this kind of reasoning to deal with Dumbledore.
Dumbledore remained silent for a longer time, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table, as if weighing his options. Finally, he slowly...
He nodded with utmost seriousness. "Your insight and reasoning, Karen, always amaze me." He looked directly into Karen's eyes. "Yes. Most of your deductions are correct. Quirinus Quirrell unfortunately became the host of an evil remnant spirit whose name we all prefer not to mention. You've read quite a few books, so you should know I'm referring to Voldemort. And that item..."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, then clearly uttered the name: "The Philosopher's Stone, Nico's masterpiece. Indeed, as you guessed, it was secretly transferred to Hogwarts after the Gringotts incident, and is under my personal custody. The immense life force and near-infinite magic it contains are an irresistible ultimate temptation for a weak but power-hungry and immortal dark being."
"Then, Headmaster, since you knew this, why did you allow him to stay at Hogwarts? To stay among the students? That's too dangerous!" Cullen's question was also her own doubt. Was it to check Voldemort's condition that he deliberately let Quirrell into Hogwarts? But wasn't Dumbledore afraid of losing control?
"Danger is everywhere, Cullen," Dumbledore's voice was deep and powerful. "Keeping him out won't eliminate the danger; it will only allow that remnant soul to seek out a more hidden, more uncontrollable host, or to plot even more insane actions from the shadows. Keeping him here, within a controllable area, under our watchful eyes, will allow us to control his movements to the greatest extent possible and restrict his actions."
And ultimately, this hidden danger will be resolved. His gaze swept over the portraits of the headmasters on the wall, who were listening intently. "The castle's defenses are far stronger than you imagine. And protecting the students is my, and all the Hogwarts faculty and staff's, primary and core responsibility."
He looked at Karen, his gaze becoming extremely serious, carrying an undeniable warning: "Karen, precisely because of this, I need you to solemnly promise me one thing."
Karen sat up straight: "You said, Headmaster."
"Stay out of it." Dumbledore's tone was firm. "Focus on your studies, protect yourself, and protect your close friends. Don't try to investigate, don't follow, and certainly don't try to fight Quirrell or what's inside him. That's not a battle you can participate in right now. The power of that remnant soul, even in its extreme weakness, is far beyond what a second-year student can imagine. Any rash action could have irreversible and catastrophic consequences."
Cullen fell silent. He understood Dumbledore's good intentions, his scheme, and the responsibility he bore. But this was something he knew was dangerous...
But the feeling of passively waiting was unbearable. He longed to do more, to protect himself and those around him more directly. However, reason told him that Dumbledore's warning was correct. Facing Voldemort, even as a remnant soul, his power was indeed far too insignificant. Acting rashly would not only cost him his life but could also endanger his roommates.
He looked up, meeting Dumbledore's deep gaze, and nodded slowly and solemnly. "I understand, Headmaster. I assure you that I will focus on my studies and protect myself and my friends. I will not actively seek out Professor Quirrell. I will remain vigilant, but I will stay out of trouble."
"Very good." A genuine sense of satisfaction appeared on Dumbledore's face as he walked back behind his desk. "I believe your promise, Cullen."
You possess a maturity and sense of responsibility far beyond your years. Remember what you said today. Now,” he softened his tone, “go back and enjoy your afternoon. Quidditch training? Or research at the Eagle’s Nest? Those sound more appropriate for someone your age. If I may say so, if you discover anything unusual, or feel any incomprehensible threat, feel free to come to me through Phobos, or directly to Professor McGonagall, or Professor Flitwick. Don’t hesitate.”
"Thank you, Headmaster." Karen stood up and bowed slightly. He had received confirmation, warning, and promise. Though reluctant, it was the wisest choice at the moment.
"Oh, by the way," Dumbledore said with a smile as Cullen turned to leave, as if remembering something, "give my regards to Nico and Castor. And tell Castor that he has chosen a very excellent successor."
Karen paused, then nodded. "I will, Headmaster." He opened the door and left the headmaster's office. The spiral staircase descended slowly with him.
The door closed behind him. Karen stood beside the stone monster and let out a long breath. The conversation in the principal's office was incredibly informative, leaving him feeling exhausted, but also much clearer in his mind: it's better to rely on yourself than on others.
He strode away, his figure disappearing into the depths of the castle's corridors. Inside his office, Dumbledore watched the door close, his smile fading as his gaze drifted to the window, becoming incredibly distant. The portraits on the walls began to murmur amongst themselves. Fawkes let out a clear, melodious cry, its fiery tail feathers brushing lightly against a perch. On the invisible chessboard, the pieces had already silently taken their places.