The Leaker

"I haven't quite figured out how much magic mechanism Quirrell has found out yet, but he certainly isn't as timid as he appears."

In the Headmaster's Office, Snape was reporting the latest intelligence to Dumbledore.

"I suspect that the magical traps you had us set up are completely useless." Snape looked at Dumbledore, who was sitting at his desk with his hands crossed in thought, and said expressionlessly, "If Quirrell really is the Dark wizard who broke into Gringotts."

"I never expected those magical mechanisms to be able to stop the spy," Dumbledore said calmly. "But undeniably, they are still working quite well, don't you think, Severus?"

"There's something else. Harry Potter is investigating the thing you hid on the fourth floor, and he probably already knows quite a bit." Snape's face involuntarily showed disgust when he mentioned Potter. "He's just like his father—a show-off, a troublemaker, a disobedient and rude person."

"The other teachers all say that the boy is humble, easy-going, and quite talented," Dumbledore said calmly.

"He might get involved in this." Snape's tone suddenly paused, then he said firmly, "No, I should say that the arrogant Quirrell will definitely get involved. Do you already know something? Who is behind Quirrell, directing him to steal from the school? As far as I know Quirrell is concerned, he doesn't seem like the kind of person who would dare to break into Gringotts and steal."

"There are already some guesses." Dumbledore's gaze shifted to the exquisite silverware on the table that was suddenly emitting white smoke.

"Who?"

When Snape asked about it, he grabbed his arm and exclaimed, "It's him! That can't be! Isn't he dead? And the Dark Mark hasn't changed."

"You should know that Voldemort is not dead."

When Dumbledore mentioned the Voldemort, Snape's facial muscles twitched slightly.

"Alright, thank you for your continued concern for Quirrell's matter." Dumbledore ended the conversation.

After Snape left the Headmaster's Office, he couldn't help but squint at the exquisite silverware on the table that was emitting white smoke.

Who could it be?

Inside the room, Albert sat in a chair, idly flipping through his notebook by the light of a blazing torch in front of him. At his feet lay a blood-red stone.

If Quirrell were here right now, he would definitely recognize that this is the legendary Philosopher's Stone, a precious Philosopher's Stone that Albert had carelessly tossed on the ground like trash.

Quirrell would probably be furious if he found out! But seriously, is this thing really Philosopher's Stone?

Albert couldn't actually tell either, but he tried turning other items into "gold," and all his attempts failed.

Perhaps, just as Albert initially suspected, it's merely a stone that resembles the Philosopher's Stone; otherwise, why would it be placed here as bait? What if it gets stolen? Whether the Philosopher's Stone is real or not is irrelevant to Albert. He came here on an adventure, braving the magical traps set up by the professors, simply to complete the "Brave Game" mission.

As for the Philosopher's Stone? Even if it were real, he couldn't take it away.

If a mission were to be given to him to steal the Philosopher's Stone, Albert would not abandon the whole forest for the sake of a single tree.

Okay, actually, the benefits of betrayal weren't big enough.

Unfamiliar footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Albert turned around, smiled, and greeted the newcomer, "Good evening, Mr. Dumbledore."

"Good evening, Mr. Anderson," Dumbledore greeted Albert with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? A great adventure." Albert bent down and, under Dumbledore's gaze, picked up the Philosopher's Stone from the ground. "However, the prize for completing the adventure is a bit unexpected."

"I walked up to the Mirror of Erised and looked in it, and I found that I was actually taking this thing out of my pocket. Your magical mechanism is incredible to me."

With that, Albert extended the hand holding the Philosopher's Stone 'Philosopher's Stone to Dumbledore and placed it in the headmaster's hand.

The latter looked at the Philosopher's Stone in his hand, then looked up at Albert, and asked with a smile, "How does it feel?"

"What do you think? The magical mechanisms are quite interesting, though a bit too simple." Albert grinned. "However, my favorite is Professor McGonagall's Giant Chessboard Array. Playing such a large-scale Wizard's Chess is really fun; it's a rather powerful Transfiguration. My least favorite is Professor Quirrell's Troll level. To be honest, I think the smell is really disgusting and very unhygienic."

"Actually, I don't really like dealing with Troll either; they always make themselves smelly," Dumbledore said, winking at Albert.

"This isn't very safe." Albert raised an eyebrow as he watched Dumbledore walk toward the Magic Mirror. "Are you planning to leave the Philosopher's Stone here?"

"Just leave it here. Generally, greedy people who want the Philosopher's Stone Philosopher's Stone can't take it out of the Mirror of Erised."

Dumbledore raised his wand and cast a complex spell that Albert couldn't understand, hiding the Philosopher's Stone back inside the mirror.

"Sir, is this really Mr. Nicolas's Philosopher's Stone?" Albert suddenly asked.

Why do you ask that?

"I've heard that the Philosopher's Stone can turn any object into 'gold'."

"You've already tried it?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, after all, it's the legendary Philosopher's Stone," Albert readily admitted. "However, it failed."

"The Philosopher's Stone cannot create gold." Dumbledore patted Albert on the shoulder and said, "Go on, your companions are waiting for you, don't let them worry."

There were no points added or deducted; it was as if nothing had happened. Dumbledore gentle as a grandfather facing his mischievous grandson.

Dumbledore didn't need to drink the antidote; he simply waved his wand and easily parted the flames, allowing them to pass through.

"Sir, is this Fiendfyre?" Albert asked, turning to look at the black flames.

"No, you should have read about Fiendfyre. You should understand that such flames are very difficult to control, and once they get out of control, it's a disaster." Dumbledore turned to look at Albert and reminded him, "In the History of Magic, many wizards have been Fiendfyre when they tried to use the Fiendfyre Curse."

"As far as I know, Professor Snape is very skilled in Dark Magic, at least more so than Professor Quirrell," Albert said in a strange tone. "He should know Fiendfyre Curse and be able to control it perfectly!"

Dumbledore added, "This is not Fiendfyre, and I will not allow anyone to use such dangerous magic in the school."

"Those two bottles of so-called antidote are actually the same drug, right?" Albert suddenly said.

Why do you say that?

"My intuition tells me that the two bottles of antidote should be the same," Albert said to himself. "That's just the answer written on parchment, and the answer may not be entirely true."

Albert suddenly felt sorry for Quirrell, who was being played like this.

Dumbledore simply smiled and did not answer.

The group arrived at the exit, where Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were already waiting.

"Gentlemen, please keep tonight's events a secret," Dumbledore said, glancing at the four men present. "Do not discuss them outside."

"Of course," the four said in unison.

"You must swear that you will not tell anyone, nor will you intentionally reveal it to anyone," Dumbledore said sternly, looking at them.

"We will not tell anyone, nor will we intentionally leak it to anyone."

After making the vow, Albert glanced at his panel and it seemed that he had triggered a new task. When no one was paying attention, he opened the task panel and was immediately stunned.

The new mission is: the leaker?