Inside the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts, the fire crackled in the hearth, bathing the whole room in warmth and light.
Dumbledore sat in his high-backed chair, slowly closing the book in his hands. It was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (complete edition).
He had finished the last page.
Now, a rare glimmer of puzzlement shone in his eyes.
He put down the book, removed his Half-moon Spectacles, and rubbed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
"Quirrell..." he murmured. "Voldemort..."
He had noticed something wrong with Quirrell long ago. Or rather, it was precisely because something was wrong with Quirrell that he had recruited him as a professor at Hogwarts.
He had long been certain that Voldemort was not truly dead, so after learning that Harry would be starting school this year, he had deliberately let news of the Philosopher's Stone slip to lure Voldemort out.
When Quirrell had applied for the position shortly afterward, he had been almost certain that Voldemort was possessing him.
Of course, he also knew perfectly well that Voldemort knew he was fishing.
But Voldemort was clearly very confident.
Dumbledore wanted to use the Philosopher's Stone to lure Voldemort out and destroy him once and for all, while Voldemort intended to use himself as bait to obtain the Philosopher's Stone.
In the end, Dumbledore had deliberately set this trap.
He had hidden the Philosopher's Stone at Hogwarts and set up layers of defenses, having Hagrid, Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall, and Snape each devise an obstacle.
These obstacles also served as a safeguard. If Harry could not even get past them, there was no question of having him face Voldemort.
If Harry succeeded in overcoming these obstacles, he would see whether this child chosen by the prophecy could step forward at the crucial moment and kill Voldemort's weakened remnant of a soul.
But according to the contents of this book-which could also be called a kind of prophecy-Harry had not killed Voldemort, but had let him escape.
Dumbledore clasped his hands and sank into thought.
Did that mean his plan would fail?
He raised his head and looked out the window.
The storm was still raging, and rain lashed fiercely against the glass.
He had noticed that many things in reality seemed to be unfolding just as the book described.
Harry had indeed become Gryffindor's Seeker.
Only yesterday, Professor McGonagall had reported that the little boy had shown astonishing talent during Quidditch practice.
As for the supposed midnight duel...
Dumbledore rose, walked over to the fireplace, and pulled the bell cord.
A little while later, a figure appeared in the doorway.
It was Filch, his back hunched and an oil lamp in his hand.
"Headmaster, you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, Filch," Dumbledore said gently. "I'd like to ask you something."
"Have you encountered anything... unusual lately? Students wandering around the castle at midnight, for instance?"
Filch's eyes lit up. He loved nothing more than informing on people.
"Yes, Headmaster! Just a few days ago, I received an anonymous letter saying someone would be going to the Trophy Room at midnight."
"But although I hurried over to check, I didn't catch anyone. All I heard was things clattering, as though someone was moving about."
"Peeves also said there were students out of bed, but I didn't see a soul."
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Did you have any guesses as to who wrote that anonymous letter?"
"I couldn't guess, Headmaster."
Dumbledore nodded.
"Thank you, Filch. You may go."
Filch bowed and withdrew from the room.
After the door closed, Dumbledore stood motionless for a long time.
Everything in the book matched.
It must have been Malfoy who had tipped Filch off, and Harry had taken part in the midnight duel. Everything was exactly as the book described.
If even these details were completely accurate, then the rest of the book was probably true as well.
Voldemort would not be killed by Harry. He would escape.
His plan had failed. The only good news was that the Philosopher's Stone remained.
Dumbledore slowly returned to his desk and settled into his high-backed chair.
His gaze grew unfocused, as though he were recalling something from the distant past.
A mysterious author, an inconceivable gift for prophecy...
A faint murmur escaped his lips:
"Grindelwald..."
Just then, someone suddenly knocked hard on the office door.
Thump, thump, thump!
The knocks were urgent, but he could tell that whoever was knocking was holding back, as though afraid of breaking the door.
Dumbledore raised his head, collected his thoughts, and said calmly, "Come in."
The door swung open.
Hagrid stood in the doorway, his usually smiling eyes now filled with fear. Clutched in his huge hand was a book: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (complete edition).
His beard trembled, and so did his voice:
"Mr. Dumbledore, You-You-Know-Who is back!"
The moment he spoke, the portraits in the office all widened their eyes.
The portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses stopped dozing or chatting and turned their eyes toward Hagrid in the doorway.
Phineas Nigellus Black leaned out of his frame, shock written all over his face. "What? You-Know-Who?"
Dilys Derwent covered her mouth as well. "Merlin's beard..."
The other portraits began whispering among themselves, their voices buzzing like a swarm of startled bees.
"You-Know-Who is back? How is that possible?"
"Didn't he already... eleven years ago?"
"Quiet, quiet!"
Dumbledore raised a hand, signaling for the portraits to settle down.
Then he turned to Hagrid with a helpless smile.
He picked up his own copy from the desk and waved it at Hagrid.
"Hagrid, I've read this book too."
Hagrid froze for a moment, looking down at the book in Dumbledore's hand, then at the one in his own.
"You... you found one too?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "This book was blown onto my windowsill during this afternoon's storm."
Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief, but the fear on his face did not entirely fade.
"Then... is everything in the book true? Is You-Know-Who really still alive? Is he possessing Professor Quirrell?"
"I'm afraid so." Dumbledore sighed. "I noticed some time ago that something wasn't quite right with Professor Quirrell, but I didn't expect..."
He did not finish, but Hagrid already understood what he meant.
Hagrid entered the room and sat in a chair opposite Dumbledore.
The chair creaked, as though protesting his enormous weight.
"What do we do now, then?" Hagrid asked, a trace of helplessness in his voice. "You-Know-Who is coming back. Should we tell the Ministry of Magic?"
"Not for now." Dumbledore shook his head. "We have no conclusive evidence."
"Besides, the Ministry of Magic is focused entirely on that book right now. I'm afraid they wouldn't believe us."
In truth, Dumbledore also had selfish reasons. After all, he had set this trap himself, and he was still reluctant to give up without trying.
Besides, the book had already laid everything out clearly. If he could take precautions against Voldemort's escape, then even if he could not kill him, perhaps he could trap him...
"Mr. Dumbledore?" Hagrid called softly as he watched Dumbledore lost in thought.
"Ah, Hagrid." Dumbledore came back to himself. "Don't worry. I'll keep Harry safe, I promise."
Hagrid nodded, but the worry on his face did not lessen.
"But, Mr. Dumbledore, if what's in the book is a prophecy, doesn't that mean..."
"Nothing we do will help?" There was a deep sense of powerlessness in Hagrid's voice.
"If that book really is a prophecy, will everything end up happening the way it's written, no matter what we do?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Hagrid. The contents of that book are definitely not a prophecy."
"Huh?"
Dumbledore explained, "A prophecy usually gives an outcome, while the process is relatively vague."
"But this book is different. It's far too detailed. Even a slight change in reality would make things turn out completely differently from what's written."
"So that's how it works!"
Hagrid looked at Dumbledore, a glimmer of hope rekindling in his clouded eyes.
"Then could we use what's in the book to capture... or destroy You-Know-Who once and for all?"