Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 55 I Swear in the Name of Lint

Rice and Daphne hurried along and finally made it back to the Slytherin common room before anyone else noticed.

The common room was packed with people, with students gathered in twos and threes, enjoying the Halloween feast brought down from the kitchen while discussing the trolls that had invaded the school.

Malfoy had recovered somewhat, and he sat by the fireplace in the lounge, holding a glass of chilled pumpkin juice with the air of someone holding a champagne glass, talking animatedly.

"How decadent! They actually let a troll sneak into the school! I'm going to write to my dad right now and tell him to strengthen the castle's security—"

Out of respect for Lucius Malfoy, most of the older Slytherin students didn't bother this junior, and some even chimed in with a few words of agreement.

As soon as Rice entered, he heard Malfoy's words, and his eyes lit up immediately: "Eh? You mean this? Then I'm not sleepy anymore!" Draco Malfoy, although you are cowardly, despicable, and have no bottom line, and are very unworthy of your status as a Slytherin student, if you can persuade your father to make more contributions to Hogwarts, then you can atone for your sins.

Malfoy suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. He turned around and saw Rice looking at him with a strange expression. He couldn't help but shiver and shut his mouth to eat his dinner.

Seeing that Malfoy was no longer talking about donating money to the school, Rice could only reluctantly find an empty seat and continue enjoying his interrupted Halloween dinner.

"So, you really weren't planning on saving me?" Daphne couldn't contain her curiosity and pressed on. She swore she had seen Rice pull his wand from his sleeve; he never kept his wand in that position normally.

There was only one reason for his unusual behavior: he was actually prepared to act at any moment, and Daphne believed she had discovered the truth.

"Of course, would you like to try this pudding? It has extra caramel in it." Rice really didn't want to get entangled in this topic, so she tried to change the subject.

"Then swear by your surname!" Daphne used her trump card.

"Yes, I swear on my last name, Lint, that I, Rhys Lint, had absolutely no intention of interfering."

Daphne frowned.

He actually dared to swear an oath by his family? Could he be telling the truth?

"Swear another oath on the honor of Slytherin, and I'll believe you," Daphne suddenly remembered that Rhys often referred to himself as Slytherin's heir, so she added.

"Huh? I think I see vanilla ice cream. I'll go get some." Rice acted as if she hadn't heard her, got up from the table, and ran to other places to get ice cream to eat.

Daphne: "Hey, you—"

Inside the same castle, more than one man was being "tortured," and even the current Hogwarts headmaster, Dumbledore, was cornered by Professor McGonagall.

"Dumbledore, I think we need to talk."

"Oh? Of course, I'll have the kitchen send some cake up." Dumbledore winked, indicating that Professor McGonagall could come with him to the headmaster's office for a more detailed discussion.

Professor McGonagall took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down, abandoning the idea of ​​confronting Dumbledore in front of the other professors. She felt that questioning the headmaster's decision in public would damage Dumbledore's prestige, and it would be better to find a secluded place to talk things over.

The two arrived at the principal's office on the eighth floor of the castle, one after the other.

Upon entering the office, Dumbledore brought Professor McGonagall a cushioned armchair and summoned a large silver platter with a stack of small cakes and a jug of honey pumpkin juice.

"Please have a seat." Dumbledore poured Professor McGonagall a glass of pumpkin juice.

Professor McGonagall sat down on the stool and mustered her courage to speak: "Albus, I don't think hiding the Philosopher's Stone in the school is a good idea."

A hint of appreciation flashed in Dumbledore's eyes, and then he asked her why.

Professor McGonagall told him her speculation.

"This is too dangerous! There are at least two groups of people with ill intentions lurking in the castle. This is unfair to the students, it's too dangerous!" Professor McGonagall's expression was extremely serious. "If this giant monster were to run into any student today, the consequences would be unimaginable."

"Unless you carry the Philosopher's Stone with you, Hogwarts isn't as professional as Gringotts when it comes to safeguarding valuables," Professor McGonagall said, expressing her thoughts.

Professor McGonagall did not blindly follow orders, but had her own ideas, which pleased Dumbledore greatly, but he still insisted on doing things his own way.

"Believe me, Minerva, I have my reasons for doing this," Dumbledore replied calmly.

It's only because Dumbledore gave such a reply that Professor McGonagall would have scolded him mercilessly.

"I need an explanation."

"This is related to Voldemort."

Minerva McGonagall remained silent.

After a long while, she picked up the pumpkin juice, took a sip, and used the sweetness of the pumpkin juice to suppress her surprise.

"What do you think...?" she asked immediately after her emotions had calmed down a bit.

"He has never died, Minerva. There is no point in deceiving yourself." Dumbledore took the silver pot, poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice, and discussed the Dark Lord's whereabouts as if he were discussing a trivial matter with a close friend.

This time, Minerva McGonagall remained silent for an even longer period, and finally, she managed to force a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"You're right." She accepted this cruel reality with composure. There was no point in deceiving herself. Wizards who had experienced that dark period understood that the mysterious man had only temporarily lost power, and sooner or later that terrible demon would rise again.

Fortunately, they still had Dumbledore, the old man who led them to defeat Grindelwald and survive the Dark Lord's most rampant days. Even if the Dark Lord were to return, he would surely lead the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic to defeat him once again.

"So the Philosopher's Stone was bait to lure him in?"

Dumbledore nodded.

Professor McGonagall was relieved.

If it's to deal with the mysterious man, she's willing to unconditionally trust Professor Dumbledore's arrangements.

After Minerva left, Dumbledore ate the remaining cake alone. He had kept something from Minerva; the bait on the hook wasn't just the Philosopher's Stone, but also Harry Potter, who had reappeared in the wizarding world this year. Otherwise, why would he have borrowed the Philosopher's Stone from his good friend Nicolas Flamel at this particular year?

However, it's not a big problem; everything is under control. Dumbledore can even use the Philosopher's Stone to conduct a fun and harmless little trial.

However, there was a variable: who was the one who killed the troll? Dumbledore fell into thought. Minerva said it was an external force coveting the Philosopher's Stone, which was certainly possible, but he was more inclined to believe it was done by some daring young wizard.

What a courageous little fellow! Dumbledore thought to himself, praising the boy.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Update delivered. I'll try to post the next update around midnight.

(End of this chapter)