The Matter I Must Speak Of, You Must Not Fear

After climbing the stairs that could exhaust a person half to death and reaching the top floor, right in front of the wooden door to Dumbledore's office, Kayson deliberately paused, took two deep breaths to steady his breathing.

Creak... [Door opening sound]

"Dumbledore, the thing I'm about to tell you, you must not be scared." Kayson sat across from Dumbledore and spoke.

"I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I won't be scared. Speak." Dumbledore put the freshly cleaned glasses back on his face.

"Quirinus Quirrell has a problem."

Dumbledore nodded. "Mm... You're quite perceptive."

"Of course, back in school my teachers always said I... Huh?"

Kayson suddenly caught the blind spot.

"I'm quite perceptive, meaning you already knew Quirrell had a problem, and you still kept him around?"

Dumbledore poured a cup of black tea and pushed it over.

"Remember that day I asked you to help me make a fake Philosopher's Stone? I'm fishing. He's the fish."

"Then do you know Quirrell's true identity?" Kayson probed. He had already planned it—if Dumbledore said the word "no," he'd have a rant ready.

That would surely stir up another storm of blood and rain, but Dumbledore simply nodded. "His name is Tom Riddle. Of course, his other name is more famous: Voldemort."

Kayson slumped back into his chair, somewhat dejected.

"You know. You know everything. The only thing you don't know is what kind of place this is. This is Hogwarts. Little wizards everywhere."

[Satisfaction from Dumbledore +10]

[Trust from Dumbledore +10]

[Affection from Dumbledore +10]

"Forgive me, Kayson, but please trust me. Everything is going according to plan." Dumbledore spoke with a gentle gaze.

"It's not that I don't trust you. Maybe you are powerful." Kayson said earnestly.

Having read many books since arriving at Hogwarts, he was no longer the person who thought Dumbledore was just an old man who liked playing with lighters.

He was a genuine, world-renowned strongest wizard.

"But I still don't think you can keep an eye on his every move."

"In fact, I can. Every portrait in Hogwarts Castle is my eyes and ears, along with the House-elves and the Professors."

"Let's say you can."

"Trust me. Now that you know about this, Kayson, would you mind helping me with a small favor?"

"Hm."

"Please unconditionally assist the person behind Professor Quirrell."

"In what aspect?"

"Any aspect, within the bounds of your conscience."

"...I'll only accept what I can do in alchemy."

"Deal."

"Damn Skylight Effect. I still have one question. What about Quirinus Quirrell himself, just the person?"

"He sought power and willingly accepted Tom's possession. Unfortunately, he didn't have the right direction. He's already a thorough Dark Wizard."

"Alright, I was just asking." Kayson curled his lip.

"Don't think I'm too heartless. Even if a remnant soul was immensely powerful in life, it can't control a complete wizard. Quirrell ending up like this today is only his own doing." Dumbledore explained.

"He went looking for it himself? I thought that big bad not being dead was some kind of secret."

"Because I never believed he was dead in the first place, so I sometimes mentioned it casually."

"Fine." Kayson nodded and left the Headmaster's Office with little enthusiasm.

It wasn't his fault. No one would be happy knowing their colleague was a heinous criminal.

After returning to his own office, he continued cramming basic alchemy.

Although he could achieve most so-called material transmutation out of thin air, as long as he understood the knowledge and could verbally explain it to teach the students, some aspects like magic rune engraving and energy application were still very useful.

When paired with Redstone, maybe he could make some interesting things.

Knock knock knock...

"Who is it?"

"It's... it's me, Quirrell."

"Speak of the devil." Kayson sighed and pulled open the office door.

Quirrell walked in with a fruit basket, smiling.

After placing the fruit basket on the desk, he saw the basic alchemy book lying there.

"You... you're still reading, reading books at this level?"

"Though after a long time, these techniques feel carved into my bones, turning them into spoken language isn't simple." Kayson pulled tea leaves from the cabinet and brewed a pot for Quirrell.

"Ah, yes, I, I came today because there's something I want... want to ask of you." Quirrell took the teacup and drank a sip.

"Speak."

"I... I want to ask you to craft a Philosopher's Stone for me."

Kayson's hand holding the teacup suddenly trembled.

"And what... what makes you think I can craft a Philosopher's Stone?" he said with a strange look.

"A... a fake one will do, it's Dumbledore's, idea." Quirrell quickly explained.

"Mm-hmm, go on."

"You, you know the Dark Lord?"

Kayson nodded.

"Dumbledore, has always, always believed the Dark Lord isn't dead, so this year he set, set a trap at, at Hogwarts, here."

"The bait for this trap is the Philosopher's Stone, of course, that's what Dumbledore announced publicly. As for me, Dumbledore told me he needs a... a counterfeit Philosopher's Stone. He wants to use a fake bait to, to lure out the Dark Lord."

Kayson nodded, calmly sipping his black tea.

"Oh... so that's it... why didn't he tell me himself?"

"He wants to... to keep this known to as few, few people as possible. Among the, the Professors, only we know this Stone is, is fake, so... so when you meet, meet Dumbledore later, don't mention this to him either..."

"That's his order, keep it, keep it buried." Quirrell stammered, while Kayson patiently watched his performance.

As for a fake Philosopher's Stone, and not letting him tell Dumbledore, it was easy to understand—nothing more than a switcheroo.

He wanted to use a fake Stone to swap for the real one.

Too bad the so-called real Stone was also fake.

And both fakes came from the same manufacturer.

But one thing Kayson couldn't understand was how Quirrell, or Voldemort behind him, could spin lies and accidentally confirm Dumbledore was using a fake as a trap.

Why didn't they consider that Dumbledore might genuinely be using a so-called fake as a trap?

After thinking it over, Kayson could only conclude these two weren't very bright.

It had to be that.

Otherwise, there was no explaining this behavior, like taking off your pants to fart.

"So... so what do you think? Can it be done?" Quirrell asked eagerly.

"Mm... it can be done. Just a fake, needing only a rough shape and magical fluctuations. But I've never seen the real Philosopher's Stone—how am I supposed to know how to replicate it? Rely on pictures from books?" Kayson pointed to the beginner alchemy book on the corner of his desk.

"That's not a problem. Look at this." Quirrell pulled out his wand and waved it.

The next moment, a one-to-one replica phantom of the Philosopher's Stone was conjured.

"This shape?" Kayson asked.

"Yes, how... how long will it take?"

"At this size... quickly."

He took the phantom of the Stone in hand. This was even simpler than last time, when he'd made a fake for Dumbledore.

Back then, Dumbledore had given him the real object to copy.

Now Quirrell had only provided a template, and Kayson just needed to fill it with tiny Redstone blocks.

Soon, Kayson's counterfeit Philosopher's Stone 2.0 was freshly made.

"Truly... truly remarkable, remarkable alchemy. You might, might rival even the real Nicolas Flamel himself." Quirrell took the Stone with both hands, awestruck.

"No need for that. Another cup of tea?"

"No... no, I have to go prepare my lessons."

"Take your time. I won't see you out."

After seeing Professor Quirrell out of the office, Kayson waited five minutes, then went straight to Dumbledore's office again.

"That's the gist. He might be trying a switcheroo."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm glad you came to tell me this."

"Uh... wasn't I supposed to? It's for the students' safety, Hogwarts' safety... and mine."

"Exactly, Kayson. You're a qualified professor." Dumbledore's gaze remained warm.

"Say what you will. I still have to figure out how to teach the fourth-year curriculum... honestly, haven't you thought about giving me a different position?"

"Absolutely not." Dumbledore shook his head.

"I wish you had."

The next day...

"Deep breaths, Kayson. You can do this. Today you're teaching alchemy to a group of novice little wizards—trust yourself, you'll have them in the palm of your hand!"

Kayson stood before the full-length mirror in his office, starting to psych himself up.

After all, unlike the fresh-faced little wizards from yesterday, his two months of alchemy reserves might not even match up to these fourth-years who'd already studied for a year.

And his goal for the first lesson with the fourth-years was simple: just don't slip up.

"Just don't slip up." Kayson took another deep breath, then exhaled sharply.

About ten minutes later...

"Waking up three hours early was still pushing it too hard. I'll just sleep a bit first... Besides, slipping up isn't that serious..."

Kayson lay on his side in bed, straddling the blanket, while the sky outside the window remained as dark as ink.

[One more chapter during the day—forgive me for pulling an all-nighter yesterday, no backlog.]

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