Because I Am a Professor

"Why did Professor Dumbledore ask you to go to the headmaster's office?"

Hermione had already recovered from her shy state and was looking at the letter with curiosity.

"I don't know either." Harley put on an innocent and puzzled expression.

"I've never been caught breaking school rules, I don't bully my classmates, and my grades are perfectly fine!

Maybe Professor Dumbledore just wants to show some concern for me; after all, my parents are gone."

At the same time, Harley quickly recalled everything she had done last night, searching for a suitable excuse.

That face of Voldemort is so familiar... Harley pondered secretly.

*Where have I seen that face before? Such an ugly face, I shouldn't have forgotten it once I'd seen it!

Right! That incomplete soul fragment inside me! The image of that soul fragment is the same as Voldemort's!*

Harley immediately made a plan. If there were any questions, she would just push the blame onto that soul fragment! It wasn't like Professor Dumbledore could go and ask Voldemort for verification.

Besides, Voldemort had indeed invaded last night, and she had once carried a fragment of his soul.

According to the Law of Extraordinary Characteristics Convergence... or rather, the Law of Soul Convergence, she possessed certain traits because she had once carried Voldemort's soul fragment.

It was perfectly reasonable that Harley was drawn to the scene due to a dream when Voldemort invaded.

Of course, Harley couldn't explain it directly like that; she would only guide Professor Dumbledore to think in that direction.

At ten o'clock in the morning, Harley sat alone in the chair in the headmaster's office, feeling slightly dazed.

Because the development of events seemed quite different from what she had imagined.

Harley had expected Professor Dumbledore to be stern or even furious, summarizing all the school rules she had broken before interrogating her thoroughly.

In the end, Harley would likely be unable to escape the fate of losing house points and serving detention, being assigned to help Professor Snape process potion ingredients.

But that was not the case; a smile remained on Professor Dumbledore's face throughout.

"Harley, how do you find life at Hogwarts?" After Harley sat down, Professor Dumbledore's first sentence caught her off guard.

This rendered all the excuses Harley had prepared—to admit her faults and then explain—completely useless.

However, Harley's reaction was very swift: "Thank you for your concern, Professor. My life at Hogwarts is very good.

The living conditions here are far superior to those at the Dursley home, and my classmates are very kind to me."

"That is good." Professor Dumbledore nodded with a smile. "I recently took the time to learn about your life at the Dursley home.

Indeed, I did not expect your living conditions to be so... arduous. I have already spoken with Petunia.

I believe that after this holiday ends, their attitude toward you will be much better."

Harley curled her lip in her heart. If they dared to bully her now, would they even have the guts?

Even without using magic or extraordinary abilities, with her exquisite skills as an Assassin, they wouldn't dare to pull any tricks even if they were given ten times the courage.

However, she could not refuse the headmaster's good intentions.

Harley stood up and lifted her robes slightly: "Thank you for your care, Headmaster!"

"There is no need to be so formal." Professor Dumbledore waved his hand. "It is I who have failed your parents."

After finishing the conversation about Harley's life, Dumbledore began to shift the topic: "Harley, can we talk about what you were doing last night?"

Harley nodded secretly in her heart.

As expected, although Professor Dumbledore's attitude was different from what she had anticipated, what was meant to come would come eventually.

Harley thought for a moment and chose to answer honestly: "Last night, I went to the restricted area on the fourth floor."

"Then can we talk about why you went there?" Professor Dumbledore did not get angry because the restricted area had been invaded; he remained gentle and pleasant.

"I felt that I should go there." Harley replied with a firm expression. "I had a dream last night.

In the dream, I saw that man without a nose again. He claimed to be Voldemort, the same Voldemort who killed my parents.

In the dream, he ordered Professor Quirrell to steal a treasure. I felt I should stop him, so I went."

"Very well done, Harley." Professor Dumbledore did not care about the holes in Harley's explanation, nor did he ask how exactly she had stopped Voldemort; instead, he nodded and praised her directly.

"Facing a Dark Wizard like Voldemort without flinching, you are worthy of your identity as a Gryffindor."

Harley bowed slightly to express her gratitude and did not say another word. At times like these, the more one said, the more mistakes one made.

"Do you know what this is?" Professor Dumbledore shifted the topic again, and a deep red stone appeared in his hand.

"Is this... the Philosopher's Stone?" Harley asked tentatively. In a book Hermione had borrowed for leisure, there was a record of a deep red stone called the Philosopher's Stone.

Harley didn't know if that Philosopher's Stone had any connection to the Life Stone she knew, but choosing a term that existed in the magical world was never a wrong move.

"That is correct." Professor Dumbledore nodded approvingly.

"I am very glad you could recognize it, and I am also very glad to see that you were able to retrieve this Philosopher's Stone and did not take it away, but left it where it was.

Do you know, Harley, only those who wish to find the Philosopher's Stone but do not wish to use it can obtain it from the Mirror of Erised.

So, seeing that you were able to obtain the Philosopher's Stone and follow your own heart by not taking it, I feel very gratified."

"Alright, it's getting late. You should go and enjoy your pleasant weekend. Exams are approaching, so don't forget to review."

Professor Dumbledore tactfully issued an order to leave.

Harley nodded, stood up, bowed slightly to Professor Dumbledore, and then left the headmaster's office.

The moment the door to the headmaster's office closed, the old headmasters on the walls who had been feigning sleep all opened their eyes and began to chat.

"That girl is lying!" Headmaster Phineas said loudly. "At the very least, she didn't tell the whole truth! She is still hiding many secrets!"

"Thank you for the reminder, Phineas," Professor Dumbledore replied softly, leaning back as his chair automatically transformed into a recliner.

"Albus, I don't understand," Headmaster Armando also spoke up.

"You watched the entire battle with us in the headmaster's office yesterday, and you are clear about that child's power.

I think you should be able to see that it is not ordinary magic; it carries the nature of Dark Magic at its core.

You know even better how that child obtained the Philosopher's Stone; it wasn't at all as you claimed. She crawled directly out of the mirror!

You should know what I am trying to express by saying all this."

"That is not important," Professor Dumbledore raised his hand slightly, and a thick, heavy book flew down from the bookshelf.

On the cover of that book was a line of text that had almost completely faded: Secrets of the Darkest Art.

Professor Dumbledore flipped through the book, speaking to himself: "I believe my judgment was not wrong; that child once carried Tom's soul within her.

Although I do not know if Tom's soul has already vanished, I believe this fragment of soul at least left behind some traits in that child, granting her certain talents.

The cause of all this was a mistake I made back then, and that child is merely an innocent victim.

She should never have had to endure these things, so how could I possibly blame her?"

Professor Dumbledore's gaze rested on a page in the book, and he continued:

"The only thing I can do now is to guide her, to ensure she always walks on the right path, so that she can feel love and courage and will not follow in Tom's footsteps.

There are not so many 'whys' in this matter. If there must be one, it is because I am a professor."

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