He looked at Harry, asking with his eyes.
Harry nodded. "Quirrell, and Voldemort."
Hagrid began to tremble, his eyes filled with fear.
"Are you sure?" Dumbledore set down his cup.
Harry raised a hand and touched the scar on his forehead. "When he cast the Killing Curse at me, it hurt here."
"I also heard things, and even saw them."
A flicker of surprise crossed Dumbledore's eyes.
"My parents' voices, another Killing Curse, and a red-haired figure from behind. It must have been what happened that night." Harry continued, "Maybe you know something about it?"
Dumbledore tried to reassure him. "Perhaps it only seemed so similar that it brought back some memories..."
"Dumbledore!" Harry interrupted, his voice rising. "You've talked to me twice already, and you're still treating me like an idiot?"
"Maybe you should go to the Gryffindor Common Room and tell the little wizards one of your made-up fairy-tale adventures to lull them to sleep. You're really good at fooling children."
"I'm not asking for nonsense. I need a reason."
"This clearly isn't normal."
Harry had experienced a life flashing before his eyes once before. It had been during his seventh contract, when he'd been hired to kill a Crab Spider for a village. When he went to collect his payment, the villagers turned on him. More than twenty people surrounded him, and in the chaos, someone stabbed him hard with a pitchfork.
That was when he finally understood why Geralt always said, "A pitchfork is the deadliest weapon."
Fortunately, he'd escaped quickly.
That experience had taught him to be a little more cautious. It had also taught him that a life flashing before your eyes just before death wasn't so pointedly specific.
Dumbledore said nothing.
"Don't tell me it was because of that spell. I don't think Voldemort loves me." Harry gave a cold laugh.
Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry, I have a theory, but it's only a theory. Give me some time to confirm it, all right?"
Harry stopped pressing him and changed the subject. "What is Unicorn Blood used for?"
"That stuff... It hardly seems like something a unicorn should have. It's evil, ominous, and terrifying."
Dumbledore began to explain. "Unicorn Blood usually has the effect of prolonging life, but... the unicorn must give it willingly."
"If it's taken by force, its blood carries a curse. Anyone who drinks it will survive in a half-dead state."
"Voldemort's already half-dead." Harry gave a mocking laugh.
Dumbledore pushed up his glasses. "Besides that, it has another little-known effect—it can create a vessel."
Harry froze.
"Of course, it's a temporary body cursed by Dark Magic," Dumbledore added.
"The stronger the curse, the stronger the body?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "For a Dark wizard, yes."
Harry understood why Quirrell had done it that way. He'd been torturing the unicorn, trying to obtain the blood filled with the greatest hatred and deepest curse.
"Looks like Voldemort is even weaker than I thought." Harry shook his head and laughed. "Headmaster Dumbledore, I think now's the perfect time for you to take action."
Dumbledore's gaze was profound. "Why?"
"He's weak, isn't he?" Harry stared at him. "And the thing you're worried about—Professor Quirrell—may not be under Voldemort's control as much as you think."
"During the fight, Voldemort could only ramble on from who knows where..."
Dumbledore said, "Don't forget our agreement."
"I've fought him," Harry replied bluntly. "I didn't feel any protective magic affecting me."
"That's not enough, Harry. He didn't act in person." Dumbledore shook his head. "You have to face him once more."
Harry sneered. "Do you expect me to stand still and take an Avada Kedavra?"
"That's not what I mean." Dumbledore's voice was gentle. "But you really do need to face him one more time. Just once more."
Harry's tone was indifferent. "With you here, he wouldn't dare steal the Sorcerer's Stone. Back in the Forbidden Forest, when I sent up the signal, he was terrified you'd come after him."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "If I have to leave Hogwarts, I'll have Hedwig deliver a letter to you."
Harry's eyes sharpened.
So that was what he meant...
He was determined to make Harry face that thing, no matter what?
"I'm not only the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the President of the International Confederation of Wizards. There are a lot of things I have to deal with," Dumbledore explained. "Sometimes I have to leave to attend to other matters."
"Like staying up at night to secretly drink syrup by yourself?" Harry asked pointedly.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "It's a bedtime treat."
Harry stood up. "Then I'll head back."
"Wait. Don't you think you should explain why you were in the Forbidden Forest last night?" Dumbledore called after him. "At the start of term, I said that the forest was off-limits."
Without turning around, Harry waved a hand. "I'll go to Professor McGonagall for detention tomorrow. Take off as many points as you like."
The next day, Harry went to Professor McGonagall to ask for detention.
Professor McGonagall was taken aback. She was glad Harry had come forward—no professor would turn down the chance to give an excellent young wizard extra lessons. But when she learned it was because he'd snuck into the Forbidden Forest, her mood soured. She assigned him two months of detention, almost all the way to the final exams.
Professor McGonagall was deeply troubled.
She was beginning to appreciate the Weasley twins more and more. They might be rowdy, but at least they made a scene.
Unlike Harry, who made no fuss and never said a word. She had no idea how many major things he was getting up to in secret.
If Harry hadn't turned himself in, she wouldn't have noticed a thing!
Harry's schedule immediately became packed. Professor McGonagall brought out the material for the second half of second year to keep him occupied, and she stopped going easy on him with homework. Harry had to write just as much as the other young wizards.
The Little Lions gazed at Professor McGonagall with warmth in their eyes.
Who said their Head of House was rigid and stern? She understood them perfectly. She knew they couldn't all copy Hermione's essays for the whole year, so she'd promptly given them Harry.
Then the plan fell apart during their second class.
Harry's essay used ideas from second-year Transfiguration, and Ron failed to spot them while copying. He wasn't like Hermione, who actually used Harry's essay as a reference. He just blindly... changed words to what he thought sounded right.
He made a mistake something like this: Harry wrote, "Xiaoming performed a beautiful two-and-a-half somersault," and Ron changed it to, "Xiaoming performed a beautiful seventeen-and-a-half-day somersault."
The Gryffindor Little Lions learned their lesson.
Those who understood some Transfiguration copied Harry's homework; those who understood less copied Hermione's.
Even with such a busy schedule, Harry still insisted on spending at least one day each week in the Forbidden Forest, searching for traces of the Bicorn. He kept at it until the final exams arrived. The closest he came to finding one was when he discovered its dung—but it had already dried out and was at least a month old.
He marked the Bicorn's range on his map.
His guess had been right.
The creature really did seem interested in unicorns. Its tracks came close to the unicorn herd's territory, but sometimes it ranged far away to the other end of the forest to hunt for food.
Harry often thought he was close to finding a Bicorn, but each night still ended without success.
He wasn't anxious.
That was hunting. You needed patience to catch your prey.
The final exams left many young wizards frazzled. Gryffindor, on the other hand, turned out to be the best-performing house. Their written exams were a complete disaster, but their practical work earned praise from the professors.
By the Black Lake, Hermione had cornered Harry and was going over the answers with him again and again.
"Hermione, the exams are over." Ron covered his face, utterly miserable. "Give Harry and me a break. Let us stop thinking about all this."
Hermione put her hands on her hips. "No, this is important."
As she spoke, Hedwig flew down from the sky and landed on Harry's shoulder. She stretched out one leg, with a note tied to it.
Harry untied it and opened it. The note was written in a bold, sweeping hand: "Harry, I have to go to London on business today. I won't be back until tonight."
"London?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Who's the letter from?"
Harry crumpled it up and stuffed it into his pocket, then stood. "Dumbledore."
Hermione stood up too. "Why did he tell you that?"
"We have an agreement," Harry explained as he headed toward the castle. "Quirrell hasn't dared to steal the Sorcerer's Stone while Dumbledore's here."
"Once he's gone, Quirrell will definitely try to steal it. I have to stop him."
Hermione and Ron stopped in their tracks. By the time Harry had gotten a couple of paces ahead, they finally reacted and hurried after him.
"Has he gone mad?" Hermione cried, incredulous. "You're only a first-year wizard!"
Ron muttered, "Harry's basically graduated already, and he's probably top of the whole school."
"Even if you're a second-year, you still shouldn't be the one to stop him." Hermione waved a hand, anxious. "Ron, be quiet. I know Harry's situation better than you do."
Ron, who'd only just opened his mouth, obediently shut it again, tight-lipped.
Harry shook his head. "I also think it's a bit absurd, but this was Dumbledore's suggestion. He told me to trust him. The greatest white wizard in the world should be at least somewhat trustworthy, right?"
"Can I go with you?" Ron took out his wand.
Hermione didn't say anything, but she looked at Harry expectantly.
"No." Harry refused without hesitation.
Ron looked disappointed. "Why not? I'm a first-year wizard too."
"Voldemort has possessed Quirrell." As they entered the castle, Harry lowered his voice. "It's too dangerous for you to come along."
Voldemort...
The name made Ron shudder.
Hermione stumbled, nearly falling over.
"He's mad. He really is mad." Hermione shook her head like a bobble-head. "He expects you to take on the Dark Lord? What was he thinking?"
"I'll explain when I get back." Harry stopped in the entrance hall and, turning toward the basement classrooms, gave Hermione a push. "Hermione, go find Professor Snape."
"Ron, go find Professor McGonagall."
He took the Invisibility Cloak out of the Sorting Hat, draped it over himself, and made his way to the Third Floor Corridor. The door that was supposed to remain off-limits stood open.
Someone had already rushed inside without waiting.
Before you continue