"... an appetizer."
Dumbledore repeated the word, his eyes suddenly narrowing.
"So, what's the main course, Draco?"
This time, his face no longer held the composure he once had, and his voice had lost its calm, steady quality.
Draco smiled, but his tone was surprisingly calm. "I believe you probably know something about Voldemort. He bewitched Professor Quirrell, didn't he?"
Dumbledore neither confirmed nor denied it.
" Professor Quirrell..." he said slowly, "Is a colleague who has made considerable achievements in Defence Against Dark Magic, but lately has indeed become somewhat... different."
"As for the word 'bewitchment'," he changed the subject, "It's a very serious accusation, Draco! Especially when you associate it with the most dangerous beings in the Wizarding World."
" Voldemort is now possessing Quirrell's head."
Draco casually uttered those words.
These words plunged Dumbledore into a stillness deeper and more profound than ever before.
He seemed to have transformed into a sculpture, crafted from millennia of wisdom and cold reality.
After a long silence, he finally spoke, "The description is very specific, child. Disturbingly specific."
"Can you tell me the source of this information?" Dumbledore stared at Draco. "Did you see it with your own eyes? Or did you hear it from some source you can't reveal? Or... is it based on your... special understanding or perception of certain aspects of the nature of Dark Magic?"
"If you believe, it exists; if you don't, it doesn't." Draco shrugged. "Everyone has their own secrets. As for confirmation—doesn't Peter Pettigrew prove anything?"
Dumbledore's gaze deepened.
"Alright, let's leave the source of the information aside for now." His tone was so serious it was almost commanding. "Does this information come from the same source as ' Peter Pettigrew's' information?"
"And, more importantly—" he paused, "Have you been exposed to 'his' perception simply because you know this information? Even for a fleeting, vague moment?"
"I have never had any contact with Professor Quirrell," Draco answered truthfully. "As for the source of the information, it is indeed from the same source."
Draco added to himself, "They're all from the same novel, so there's nothing wrong with saying that."
Then Draco added a devastating detail, "That's why Professor Quirrell wears a purplish hood."
These words struck Dumbledore like an invisible thunderbolt.
His movements, even the slightest change in his gaze, completely ceased.
It was as if, at this moment, the entire world consisted only of that purplish-red headscarf and the head beneath it, corrupted by darkness.
After a long while, he slowly exhaled.
"Then your safety priority is equal to, or even higher than, Harry Potter's," Dumbledore said. "You must maintain a state where 'he' is unaware of your knowledge. The survival rules I previously issued—forget, do not test, report immediately—must be elevated to an unprecedented level."
"As for what you call the 'same source'..." His gaze seemed to pierce through Draco, looking at some unseen entity, "Whatever it is—protect it, nurture it, but never actively seek it out."
"You have done enough. Now you can leave and go back to the tower," Dumbledore said.
"You only had a brief conversation tonight about 'house adaptation,' Professor Dumbledore was very kind, that's all."
"Starting tomorrow, like every new student, show appropriate impatience with Quirrell's stammering lectures."
He placed his hand on Draco's shoulder one last time, his palm warm and firm. "Remember, you saved more lives tonight than you think. Now, go and rest. You won."
[bite--]
[Added original storyline, Fortune Points increased by 20!]
Seeing Dumbledore's serious demeanor, Draco found it amusing.
"Don't be in such a hurry, Old Dumbledore," Draco said with a smile. "This isn't the main course. I have even more explosive news. Do you want to hear it?"
Dumbledore was visibly taken aback for a moment, then gave a look that was almost helpless.
Seeing Draco constantly keeping him in suspense, Dumbledore practically wanted to Legilimency on him.
But he held back, and slowly said, "Child, in your eyes, what deserves to be called a 'big dish'? Is it the destruction of Hogwarts? The fall of the Ministry of Magic? Or... is all our knowledge of the world, of magic, even of our own existence... wrong, and that 'correct' truth is a billion times more terrifying than anything you've said?"
Draco blinked. "Do you want to know about Voldemort's Horcrux?"
This time, Dumbledore was truly stunned.
His breathing visibly faltered for a moment.
" Horcrux..." he repeated softly, his voice filled with an extremely complex emotion, "To split the soul in pursuit of immortality. To hide the fragments in a vessel, so that even if the physical body is destroyed, one can still linger on."
"You ask me if I want to know," his gaze deepened, "To know it means to be forever embroiled in the dirtiest war about the nature of the soul..."
"Stop," Draco interrupted him rudely. "Enough with the long-winded talk, Old Dumbledore. It's exhausting talking to you. Every time I ask you a question, you ask me the same question back. Can't we just get straight to the point?"
Dumbledore closed his mouth with lightning speed, the surprise vanishing instantly.
He wasn't angry; instead, the corners of his mouth curved upwards almost imperceptibly.
It was an arc that combined helplessness, self-deprecation, and genuine amusement.
He even coughed lightly, as if clearing a long, unspoken rant from his throat.
"... Let's get straight to the point." Dumbledore repeated slowly, his voice not showing any offense, but rather a hint of satisfaction.
He nodded decisively, with a larger gesture than usual.
"I want to hear it."
He pronounced those two words clearly, without any embellishment, without any premise, and without any rhetorical questions.
Then, Dumbledore even mimicked Draco, spreading his hands in a simple "begin" gesture, his face bearing an almost playful, encouraging expression:
"Now, tell me about Tom Riddle's Horcrux. I'm listening."