What Dumbledore Wanted

"Oh, Snape's his Head of House!" Ron couldn't help saying. "He was the one cursing Harry during the Quidditch match that day. That broom nearly killed you, too. You'd better not tell Snape!"

Ron warned Breeze, who rubbed his temples and said, "Don't worry. Snape took my wand, so I'm already angry with him. After hearing what you two said, I'm even angrier."

"But..." Breeze raised a hand to hide the faint blush in his eyes. "What was Professor Quirrell doing there? I clearly saw him trying to get into the Forbidden Corridor on the fourth floor."

Hermione also looked thoughtful.

"Maybe he found out what Snape was plotting. After all, the Sorcerer's Stone is... is..."

Oh, it seemed Harry and the others still hadn't discovered the connection between the Sorcerer's Stone and Nicolas Flamel, or what the Stone could do.

Breeze had no intention of telling them. He needed to observe things a little longer and find a way to put himself in a more advantageous position.

"I think we should find out the secrets of the Sorcerer's Stone first. But I have to go upstairs now. After what happened with the Broomstick, I need to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore."

Breeze studied Harry's face. His green eyes behind his glasses were deep, and he looked a little ill at ease. That was only natural, since Breeze was staring at him.

"Don't worry. I'm not blaming you. You were a victim, too. And I can promise not to tell anyone what you told me today until this is all properly resolved."

With that, Breeze waved to Hermione, left the corner, and headed upstairs.

Ron frowned. "Is he going to Dumbledore to complain right now?"

Harry came around.

"I think he'd be better off going to Snape. Snape hates me so much he wants to kill me."

Hermione watched Breeze leave, a puzzled look in her eyes. She felt he was still keeping something from her.

"Once we uncover the secret of the Sorcerer's Stone, the truth will come out."

Hermione sounded confident. She wasn't going to ask Breeze, because she trusted herself to solve the mystery. It was like a contest outside class.

Breeze stopped in front of the Headmaster's Office and addressed the stone gargoyle at the entrance. "Could you let Headmaster Dumbledore know I'm here?"

The door opened soon afterward.

"Sorry to bother you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, looking at a candy advertisement.

"Oh, it's no trouble." Dumbledore didn't put the leaflet down. Instead, he asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Order?"

"Chirp!" Fawkes called from his perch nearby, as if eager to get close to Breeze.

"See? He likes you."

Dumbledore glanced at the cheerful Phoenix, then looked at Breeze as if trying to gauge him.

"It's about the Broomstick..." Breeze said. "I think I know who was responsible."

The Broomstick incident had already caught the young wizards' attention. The professors had also found traces of Dark Magic clinging to it. Professor McGonagall was furious, but she was always busy, so she'd left the matter to Snape. Unfortunately, it had gone nowhere with him.

"Oh, Snape told me about it. I'm sorry you were hurt at Hogwarts. Rest assured, we'll take care of it."

"Then tell me who you think did it."

Dumbledore set down the leaflet. His blue eyes flickered behind his half-moon spectacles, and he looked surprised by what Breeze had said.

"Snape?" Dumbledore stared at Breeze strangely.

"I think you should have faith in the professors. Snape can be a little severe, but he's an excellent Potions Master. His pursuit of Potions sometimes makes him neglect other things, like expressing himself."

Dumbledore seemed to be reminiscing. He secretly watched Breeze's gaze grow less certain, then laughed and said, "We'll look into it thoroughly. Until then, you can keep your distance from the person you suspect. Let's hope your Head of House doesn't take it to heart."

When Breeze didn't object, Dumbledore continued slowly, "You're talented, and you're wary. I'll have the other professors help Snape."

Dumbledore winked at Breeze.

"They'll keep an eye on him, too. Does that sound all right?"

Breeze laughed inwardly, but his face showed his nervousness. He'd confirmed his suspicions.

"Of course. But there's one thing I want to be sure of."

"You'll keep an eye on what happens from here on, won't you? I don't want to end up in the Hospital Wing again."

Dumbledore sat up straight and assured him, "I will. And when I'm not around, the other professors will be watching, too. Protecting young wizards is our duty. You can trust Hogwarts."

Breeze left the Headmaster's Office with a blank expression. He didn't let out a breath until he returned to the Owlery.

"I can be sure of it now. Dumbledore won't intervene... He's the Headmaster, the greatest White Wizard of the age. Why is he letting Quirrell do as he pleases? What does he want?"

Breeze was convinced that no one did anything without a reason.

"The secrets are all hidden in the Forbidden Corridor on the fourth floor. The Sorcerer's Stone is bait, and Quirrell is... a pawn?"

"Dumbledore wants to draw out the master behind Quirrell!"

Yes, Breeze understood now. But he couldn't forgive Dumbledore. He was putting Hogwarts in danger. Could he guarantee everyone's safety? No!

Breeze himself had nearly died.

"The greatest White Wizard... Just how white is he? Or has he set his sights on something bigger? Is he the sort who sacrifices the few for the greater good?"

But was that kind of conduct appropriate for Hogwarts? The answer was even more clearly no. Hogwarts existed to educate young witches and wizards. Even if it had been built like a fortress a thousand years ago, that didn't change its purpose.

"I admire people who keep the bigger picture in mind, but I won't tolerate being the pawn sacrificed on the board."

Breeze had never been so angry. He hated having someone else control his fate. His willingness to use the contract, even at the cost of injury, to turn the tables on Quirrell was proof of that. Life was precious, freedom priceless. He could endure things for a while, but he would never meekly accept whatever fate handed him.

Breeze decided he was going into the Forbidden Corridor, no matter what. Since Quirrell was a pawn, Breeze would make sure that pawn stayed there forever. As for the master behind Quirrell, Dumbledore could deal with him. It had nothing to do with Breeze.

Once this was over, Breeze wanted nothing more to do with Dumbledore. The man was terrifying. Who knew whether Breeze might be sold off and still end up thanking him for it?

Self-righteous Dumbledore. Hmph!

But what was the deal with the Savior?

If he thought about it carefully, Breeze could see how Dumbledore favored Harry. If he had to guess, the exception to the Quidditch selection rules had been made for him. There had always been talented students, so why make an exception in the year the Savior arrived?

When Dumbledore had announced that first-years could join Quidditch, Professor McGonagall, who was in charge, had been delighted. It was obvious that Dumbledore had pushed for it. Since when had Dumbledore been so proactive?

"The Boy Who Lived defeated the Dark Lord... A one-year-old child defeated You-Know-Who?"

Thinking of the faint, lightning-shaped scar he'd seen on Harry's forehead, Breeze felt he was beginning to understand.

"So Quirrell's master is You-Know-Who?"

"You-Know-Who is still alive!"

Breeze propped his head up with one hand. It ached. Things had gotten far too complicated lately. He felt caught in a vast web. There were plenty of ways to break free, but he was unable to move. The right moment hadn't come yet.

The thought that You-Know-Who might still be alive seemed incredible to Breeze, yet somehow perfectly reasonable. How could such a famous figure have died so easily, in such a bizarre way? You-Know-Who wasn't an idiot.

"Dumbledore sent Hagrid to get the Sorcerer's Stone from Gringotts, so Hagrid must be someone he trusts. The information Harry and Hermione got was probably leaked by Dumbledore on purpose."

"But why? Mr. Potter isn't even good at his studies. He's only any good on a broomstick."

"Breeze, what are you muttering about?" Faner asked from beside him, spitting sparks of lamp oil. Seeing Breeze looking so down, he asked with concern, "Maybe you should get something to eat. It's getting late."

"Grr..."

"You're right, Faner."

Breeze set his doubts aside for the moment. He only needed to uncover the secret of the Forbidden Corridor on the fourth floor to understand everything. There was no point wearing himself out over it.

Breeze left the Owlery. After dinner, he heard Cedric's voice.

"Here's your little box. Professor Sprout asked me to return it to you... But..."

But?

Breeze couldn't help getting nervous. He hoped she hadn't found the Unicorn's corpse in the greenhouse.

Seeing Breeze's anxious expression, Cedric laughed. "Professor Sprout said she needs to prepare plants for the Christmas decorations, so she needs some young wizards to help. She specifically asked for you."

"Phew. Oh, that's nothing. But Christmas is coming already? That was fast."

Breeze's eyes grew a little sad, but the feeling disappeared so quickly that Cedric didn't even notice.

"Aren't you going home?" Cedric asked.

Breeze hadn't told anyone about himself, and he wasn't planning to.

"I've decided to stay at Hogwarts. I hope Christmas here is safer than Halloween."

After hearing that, Cedric seemed to remember Breeze arriving alone at King's Cross Station. From the owls Breeze had received over the past few months, Cedric had gathered a vague idea of his circumstances.

"If you don't mind, could I invite you to spend Christmas at my house?"

"Sorry, Cedric. I don't think I'd fit in. I'd be happier at Hogwarts."

Breeze meant it. He'd never liked Christmas, because it was the day he'd been left at the Orphanage. It was also Betty's birthday, which she hated. Breeze had never given her a birthday present, and Betty had only ever given him a satchel, when he was nine.

Perhaps he could use the Christmas holiday to explore the Forbidden Corridor on the fourth floor, while most of the young wizards were home. Many of the professors would be leaving Hogwarts, too. He'd heard Quirrell was going away...

Wait, Breeze thought. Maybe that wasn't such a good time after all. He'd thought the same thing before the last Quidditch match, and it had left him full of regret. He'd tried to steal the chicken only to lose the rice, and it had been infuriating!