Nicolas Flamel

The Easter holiday ended, and final exams arrived.

A week after the exams, the results were posted on the notice boards of the various Houses. Skylar received Outstanding marks in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and History of Magic, and performed well in his other subjects too. Draco, Daphne, and Meredith also achieved decent results.

The young wizards of Gryffindor lagged far behind. Aside from Hermione, the true academic ace, Harry and Ron's performances could only be described as unremarkable. As for Neville, Seamus, and the rest, their results were even worse—simply dreadful.

Overall, Skylar placed first in the year, Hermione second, Meredith third, and fourth place went to a Ravenclaw girl named Morrie. Daphne came fifth, and Draco sixth. This left the Slytherin students thrilled for quite some time, while Gryffindor, which had always been at odds with Slytherin, became the target of mockery from the other Houses and sank into an atmosphere of gloom.

Skylar, Hermione, and Meredith were all well-rounded academic prodigies, excelling equally in written exams and practical work. Daphne leaned slightly more toward practical subjects. Her Charms and Transfiguration grades were excellent, but History of Magic, Astronomy, and Herbology dragged down her overall score.

Draco was especially gifted at Potions. He had earned full marks in the subject, and his Charms and Transfiguration scores were also good, which was why he ranked sixth. That alone was enough to make him happily show off to Nott, Blaise, Goyle, Crabbe, and the others without end.

The Harry trio did not stay depressed over their exam results for long. Before the results were posted, they somehow suddenly noticed that Professor Snape had been acting suspiciously, leading them to conclude that Snape intended to steal the Sorcerer's Stone.

One night, the three secretly slipped into the forbidden area of the fourth-floor corridor, only to find a pool of blood and the corpse of the Three-headed Dog on the ground—further convincing them that Professor Snape had already entered the place where the Sorcerer's Stone was kept.

The three made their way through Devil's Snare, the Flying Keys, and the Giant Chessboard. Ron was knocked unconscious during the chess challenge, leaving Harry and Hermione to continue onward. They first bypassed the corpse of a Troll, then came upon Professor Snape's logic-puzzle challenge. Hermione quickly deduced the function of every potion. Harry told Hermione to go back and raise the alarm, while he drank the potion that would allow him to pass through the Black Fire.

In the final room, Harry found Quirrell, who was repeatedly studying the Mirror of Erised.

Just like in the original story, Quirrell revealed Voldemort's true form, parasitically attached to the back of his head—a hideous, terrifying face, chalk-white in color, with glowing red eyes and two long, snake-like nostrils beneath them.

Voldemort used Harry to retrieve the Sorcerer's Stone from the Mirror of Erised. Just as Harry was about to rush toward the door blazing with Black Fire, Quirrell grabbed his hand, only to suffer a backlash from the power Harry's mother had left within him.

Harry's excellent ability to adapt under pressure showed itself at that moment. Fearlessly, he rushed Quirrell and reached out to touch his skin. As the two grappled and struggled, Harry fell into a coma that lasted three days, while Quirrell met a miserable death.

After Harry woke up, the end-of-term feast arrived. At the feast, Dumbledore awarded Ron fifty points, Hermione fifty points, Harry sixty points, and finally Neville another ten, allowing Gryffindor to pull off a complete reversal in one stroke.

The Gryffindor table erupted with thunderous cheers, while the Slytherin table was filled with disappointment and frustration. Prefect Gemma Farley was trembling with anger, looking as though she might burst into tears at any moment. Draco, his face full of deep indignation, kept muttering curses and loudly declared that his father was a Hogwarts governor and would surely seek justice for Slytherin over this matter.

Skylar remained calm. To him, the House Cup was neither here nor there. His horizons and ambitions went far beyond that.

Daphne and Meredith had initially looked just as unhappy. They felt that Dumbledore's actions were unfair—Skylar had taken down a Troll and saved his classmates' lives, yet that was worth only twenty points, while Ron playing a game of chess and Hermione solving a logic puzzle could earn their House fifty points each! But when they saw Skylar's tranquil, unruffled expression and thought back to the three of them sharing adventures before, they suddenly wore looks of realization.

Seeing the expressions on the two girls' faces, Skylar smiled in satisfaction. "I'm glad you were able to calm yourselves down so quickly. Remember, the House Cup is an empty thing. It can neither bring us true honor nor create any real value for us. We can't eat it, and we can't exchange it for money."

At that, the two girls burst into laughter. Skylar pointed to his head and continued with a solemn expression, "What truly matters is how much knowledge we've learned here and how much our strength has grown. Only those are things of genuine value."

His words thoroughly convinced the two girls. Even Draco, Pansy, and the others nearby listened with shining eyes. What Skylar did not say aloud was this: the greatest prize from this whole affair—the Philosopher's Stone—had already fallen into my hands. The House Cup? Whoever wants it can have it!

The feast ended, and the students from all the Houses began to leave.

Just as Skylar was about to return to his dormitory, Professor McGonagall stopped him. There was some confusion on her face. "Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you in his Headmaster's office, Mr. Malfoy. It seems he has some questions for you about the final exams."

"All right, I understand, Professor McGonagall." Skylar nodded.

"Oh, and the password to the Headmaster's office is Cockroach Cluster." Although McGonagall was not especially fond of Slytherin, Skylar's performance throughout the term—his excellent studies, steady conduct, humility, and courtesy—had made her genuinely fond of this outstanding student, seeing him as one of her own prized pupils.

McGonagall was both pleased with and hopeful for Skylar. Looking at him now, she chose her words carefully. "Also, regarding the House Cup, I hope you won't feel that the school acted unfairly and develop resentment toward Hogwarts. I think very highly of you, Skylar. You are the most talented student I have ever seen."

Hearing the usually stern Professor McGonagall warmly call him Skylar rather than "Mr. Malfoy," Skylar felt the concern in her tone, and warmth rose in his heart. He nodded. "I understand, Professor. Don't worry."

Hogwarts Headmaster's Office.

It was a spacious, beautiful circular room. Many windows lined the walls, alongside portraits of Hogwarts headmasters from every generation, all of whom were softly snoring in their respective frames.

Various silver instruments sat on spindly-legged tables throughout the office. They made all manner of comical noises as they whirred atop the tables and puffed out smoke. Dumbledore's pet—a Phoenix named Fawkes, with scarlet feathers and golden tail plumes—perched on a tall gilded stand behind the door. The Sorting Hat lay crumpled on a shelf beside the desk.

Unexpectedly, there was already another guest in the room.

He was a fashionably dressed old man, his face covered in wrinkles, his hair entirely white, and his beard even longer than Dumbledore's. Yet he was full of vitality, with white hair and the rosy complexion of youth.

What drew even more attention, however, was that the old man wore the latest fitted wizard's robes from Twilfitt and Tattings. The robes emitted faint magical ripples. Even from Skylar's limited alchemical perspective, they bore at least fifty different enchantments. Calling them priceless would not have been an exaggeration.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore. Hello, sir." Skylar politely greeted the two old men.

He noticed that the fashionably dressed old man beside Dumbledore was studying him with great interest. Smiling, the old man explained, "Hello, young man. Let me introduce myself. My name is Nicolas Flamel."

Even with Skylar's composure, hearing that name made him freeze for an instant.

Nicolas Flamel smiled kindly. "Don't be nervous, young man. I came here because of the Philosopher's Stone. I entrusted the stone to Dumbledore for safekeeping, but somehow it was lost within Hogwarts. Dumbledore then asked me to perform a crystal-ball divination for it. To my surprise, your image appeared in the vision shown by the crystal ball, so I came to Hogwarts specifically to meet you. There is no other meaning behind it."

Ah! What an oversight!

Skylar had made so many preparations for the Philosopher's Stone, yet he had actually forgotten that the wizarding world possessed such a heaven-defying ability as divination. Of course, it was difficult to blame him for that oversight, since divination demanded an exceptionally high degree of bloodline talent. True seers who possessed "the Sight" were exceedingly rare—and unfortunately, Nicolas Flamel happened to be one of them.

Skylar knew he could not deceive the two shrewd old men before him, so he simply laid everything out in the open.

With a bitter smile, Skylar said, "Mr. Flamel's divination is indeed remarkable. It has truly broadened my horizons. I have no wish to stand here and offer hypocritical excuses—the Sorcerer's Stone is indeed with me. During the Easter holiday, I entered the forbidden area of the fourth-floor corridor and made my way through every challenge. In the end, I obtained a stone from a mirror. At first, I did not know it was the famous Philosopher's Stone, but out of a momentary bit of childish mischief, I copied it and placed a counterfeit back inside that mirror. Later, after consulting many books and materials, I learned that this stone was the Philosopher's Stone. I have some knowledge of alchemy, so upon seeing this legendary creation representing the pinnacle of alchemy, I naturally could not resist studying it. I hope to gain alchemical knowledge from this stone. In fact, I hope that one day, through my own abilities, I can create a Philosopher's Stone of my own!"

After saying this, Skylar raised his head. His gaze inadvertently met Dumbledore's profound eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. Suddenly, an indescribably strange feeling welled up within him, and his mind fell into a momentary daze. In the blink of an eye, Skylar's gaze cleared again—it was Dumbledore's Legilimency!

Skylar regained his senses and clenched his fists at the same time. The flames of anger burned in his chest as he decisively cast Occlumency, brutally driving Dumbledore's mind out!

His gaze turned cold, and his voice no longer carried any respect as he said indifferently, "Professor Dumbledore, is it truly appropriate to invade someone else's thoughts without first obtaining their consent—especially when that person is your student?"

"Ahem, ahem. You actually learned Occlumency." Dumbledore looked somewhat embarrassed as he adjusted his glasses.

Seeing that the atmosphere had turned tense, Nicolas Flamel hurriedly stepped in to smooth things over. "Young man of the Malfoy family—I shall call you Skylar instead. I hope you will not misunderstand your Headmaster. Since this concerns something as important as the Philosopher's Stone, while I do feel his actions were somewhat improper, he also had reasons that left him with no choice..."