"Impressive, impressive!"
"Hehe, of course!"
Audrey folded her arms and huffed. "Edward, you really are something. Everyone knew about this, and I was the only one kept in the dark?"
"Sorry, I was just worried that your concern for me would cloud your judgment."
She approached with her hands behind her back and said, pursing her lips, "So, you thought a Spectator who cared about you this much... wouldn't notice that you'd switched to someone else halfway through?"
"Huh?"
She came a little closer. "Even if they were both you... they still felt different. Even Susie could tell, so how could I not?"
"???"
Edward couldn't help looking stunned. "So, after all that... I was the only one kept in the dark."
"Do you know how hard it was to pretend I didn't know anything? I'm a Spectator, not an actor."
"..."
"Hmph, let's see if you dare hide something like this from me again."
"I won't. I won't."
Dumbledore watched them, resting his chin on his hand with a smile:
It really was wonderful to be young.
At noon, Harry had barely returned from Sirius's home before Snape took him to the Headmaster's Office.
While he was still looking utterly bewildered, a frail-looking old man with snow-white hair slowly shuffled up to him and, holding something resembling a doctor's stethoscope, began examining him bit by bit, working down from his chest.
"Professor Dumbledore, who is this elderly gentleman... what, what is he doing?"
Audrey smiled and said, "Weren't you looking for information about him a little while ago?"
"Huh?"
Harry froze. "You're... Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the creator of the Philosopher's Stone?"
"Oh, that's me, child." Nicolas Flamel asked softly, "Have you felt any discomfort?"
"Discomfort? No."
Harry scratched his head, then realized what was happening and hurriedly apologized.