Harry's words aside, Maurise had his own thoughts.
He was more inclined to believe that Quirrell was the one who wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone. However, whether it was Quirrell or Snape, it really had nothing to do with him.
For Maurise, what mattered more at this moment was the Philosopher's Stone itself.
"What exactly does the Philosopher's Stone do?" Maurise asked, feigning mild curiosity.
"It makes the Elixir of Life, and it can turn any metal into pure gold," Hermione recited briskly. "There might be more to it, but the library books only go that far."
Immortality. The word echoed in Maurise's mind. He remembered bumping into Professor Quirrell back in Knockturn Alley. The stuttering man had been desperately trying to buy Nyx Silver-Banded Krait venom. Frick had mentioned that, if processed correctly, the venom could extend a wizard's lifespan.
It all clicked. Quirrell was the one after the Stone.
"Turning things to gold is brilliant, isn't it?" Ron's eyes were practically gleaming. "Just think about it. If you had that stone, you would never have to worry about money again for the rest of your life!"
"True enough," Maurise agreed with a smirk. "Nobody in their right mind turns down free gold. Who wouldn't want a rock like that?"
Hermione shot Harry a knowing look. "Snape certainly wants it."
Harry nodded gravely. "If the Stone falls into the wrong hands, the consequences would be catastrophic. Snape will definitely use it for something utterly evil."
"Such as?" Maurise prompted.
"Well, something extremely evil," Harry replied, severely lacking any actual specifics.
Maurise parted ways with the golden trio and headed back to his dormitory. Leaning against his pillows, he absentmindedly scratched his pet cat, Tin, behind the ears and fell into deep thought.
The Philosopher's Stone held an undeniable allure. Whether it was the promise of limitless wealth or the tantalizing prospect of eternal life, the temptation was real. Like he had told Ron, nobody says no to gold.
Getting his hands on the Stone wouldn't be a walk in the park. But how would he know if he didn't try? Even if he couldn't sneak it out of the castle, he at least wanted to see the legendary artifact with his own eyes. It was hidden right here in Hogwarts, practically begging for a midnight visit.
Once the idea took root, it refused to let go. Maurise was a boy of action, and he decided right then and there to pay the forbidden third-floor corridor a little visit.
Daytime was out of the question. He couldn't exactly stroll down the halls using his Shadow-Meld spell in broad daylight. But at night? His shadow magic made him practically invincible. Unless someone cast a massive, blinding Lumos Maxima to banish every single ounce of darkness in the room, they could never force him out of his shadow state. As long as there was the dark, not even Dumbledore could spot him.
Midnight arrived. Maurise finished his evening meditation and glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. Eleven fifty-three. Perfect timing.
He slipped out of bed, pulled on a dark hooded cloak, and opened his door. As he crept down the stairs into the common room, he noticed he wasn't the only one awake. Another sneaky figure was lurking near the exit. It was Robert Hilliard. The older boy had cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and was quietly slipping out of the door.
It seemed Hogwarts was rather busy tonight. Then again, Maurise had bumped into plenty of night-wandering students during his previous midnight library raids. Thankfully, his shadow magic ensured he was never the one getting caught.
The journey to the forbidden corridor was smooth sailing. Maurise arrived at the door guarding Fluffy, the three-headed dog. He tested the brass handle. Locked. He didn't bother with an Alohomora charm, not wanting to risk making any magical noise.
"Shath... Môr... Keth. (Umbral walk)," he whispered wordlessly.
His physical body dissolved into a puddle of fluid darkness, slipping effortlessly through the tiny crack under the door.
The room was exactly as he remembered. A massive, terrifying three-headed hound was chained up inside. Two of its heads were fast asleep, snoring loudly. The third head had its eyes open but looked utterly bored, letting out massive, jaw-cracking yawns. As a guard dog, it was frankly doing a terrible job.
Maurise extended his magical senses through the shadows. Finally, right beneath the beast's massive paws, he detected the outline of a wooden trapdoor. Fluffy actually had one giant paw resting directly on top of it.
For a normal wizard, this would be a death sentence. For Maurise, it was a minor inconvenience. He slithered through the shadows, bypassing the lethal claws, and slid right through the cracks of the trapdoor, plummeting into the pitch black below.
He landed softly. The floor felt strangely squishy. As he materialized out of the shadows for a split second, a mass of snake-like vines instantly lunged at him.
Startled, Maurise immediately dissolved back into the dark. The vines, suddenly lacking a physical target, thrashed around blindly for a moment before going limp and returning to their dormant state.
Devil's Snare. He recognized the nasty plant from Herbology class.
Not wasting any time, Maurise glided along the stone corridor, venturing deeper into the gauntlet. He arrived at a chamber filled with a swarm of flying keys, followed by a room housing a gigantic, brutal-looking chessboard. After that came a room smelling of dead troll, and finally, a chamber with a table full of potion bottles blocking a wall of black fire.
The Hogwarts professors had clearly poured their hearts into designing these intricate, challenging puzzles. It was a terrible shame they were dealing with a player using cheat codes. Maurise didn't fly on brooms, play wizard's chess, fight trolls, or solve logic puzzles. He just turned into a shadow and slipped under every single door.
When he reached the final chamber, he was about to solidify and take a breather, but his senses suddenly picked up two distinct shapes in the darkness ahead.
One was a massive object, easily recognizable as the Mirror of Erised he had encountered before. The second shape was a tall, living human being with an incredibly long beard. The man was standing perfectly still, his back turned, staring deeply into the glass.
Albus Dumbledore.
Maurise hesitated, lingering in the formless dark. He had two choices. He could retreat immediately, or he could wait it out until the Headmaster left. Considering his flawless track record of hiding from the old wizard, he chose the latter.
Dumbledore just stood there like a statue. For five whole minutes, the only movement he made was a slight adjustment of his half-moon spectacles.
Maurise was starting to lose his patience. What on earth was Dumbledore seeing in that mirror? Whatever it was, it had the Headmaster completely captivated.
Just as Maurise debated making a quiet exit, Dumbledore gave a soft sigh, shook his head, and turned around. For a heart-stopping second, Maurise thought he had been spotted.
Instead, Dumbledore simply adjusted his glasses again and sat right down on the cold stone floor. He reached into his colorful robes, pulled out a small paper bag, and popped a tiny, oval-shaped object into his mouth.
Medicine? A mint?
Maurise let out an inward sigh of relief, utterly bewildered. What kind of Headmaster sneaks down to a deadly dungeon in the middle of the night, sits on the floor in front of a magical mirror, and eats lemon drops?
It was, without a doubt, the weirdest thing he had seen all year.