The three of them in the third-floor corridor fell into complete silence.
Sirius wasn't shameless enough to say, "See? Snape admitted it himself."
After a moment of silence, he hurriedly explained, "That was only James before fifth year. He changed for the better after that. Later on, it was Snape who started trouble with us, not the other way around. Lily only agreed to date James because he turned over a new leaf."
"As for me, I've always been an arrogant fool."
"But James wasn't."
"He wasn't as bad as you think, Harry."
"In fact, he stopped me from carrying out a lot of overly cruel pranks on Snape, and even saved Snape's life."
"I was the bad guy."
After that, he slunk away, disappearing from Harry and Ron's sight.
Perhaps subconsciously, he also felt he had gone a bit too far with Snape.
But that "too far" applied to the pre-Death Eater Snape and the current reformed Snape.
He didn't feel he had anything to apologize for regarding the time in between.
But he had no words to defend himself to Harry.
Ron: "Looks like your dad really wasn't a bad guy. He saved Snape's life!"
Harry's expression finally softened a bit. "That's the only good news tonight. Hmm... I'm getting a bit hungry. Why don't we go back and eat?"
Ron nodded vigorously.
Meanwhile, the group chat members who watched all this had different reactions.
Beatrice looked disgusted: "Are all boys' cliques this excessive?"
Beatrice: "Our school is better. Nevers stick with Nevers."
Beatrice, whose idea of bullying usually involved schemes like "inviting everyone to the ball except one person—guess who?", began to empathize with Harry's anger. If she were Snape, she probably would have fallen to the Never side too.
Madison: "I don't get it. Where does Sirius get the nerve to say James Potter saved Snape's life?"
Madison: "If James Potter hadn't saved Snape, all four of them would have been expelled!"
Madison: "If Snape were still here, he definitely should have hit Sirius with a Cruciatus Curse."
Sophie: "Does this Ron guy have zero ability to read the room? If I had a mouth like his, I probably wouldn't have survived childhood."
Sophie: "Seems the movies weren't completely useless; at least they captured this side of Ron perfectly."
Zoe lay on her side, her pale ankles exposed from under her black robe. She didn't offer any opinion, just flipping through her book. After all, she only cared about Basil.
Basil felt a chill. "How many times did Sirius mention James? It's... kinda gay."
Sophie yawned. "Who cares? Anyway, how's the discussion going about my proposal to let Agatha join the club?"
Madison waved her hand dismissively. "I don't think so. Agatha has a boyfriend. And she's not pretty enough."
Madison: "You know what we do after every club activity. Is she really suitable to be here? I don't want Sweetie to be taken advantage of."
Zoe nodded in agreement.
Beatrice added in a critical tone, "I've watched the movie. She might be an Ever, but she's not worthy of being a Witch Club member."
Madison continued, "Besides, she's all lovey-dovey with Tedros right now, inseparable every second."
Madison: "Even if you're worried about her dying of old age while you live forever... don't forget, Sweetie has the Sorcerer's Stone."
Sophie: "Fine then."
Madison: "Speaking of the Sorcerer's Stone, Sweetie, how many doses of the Elixir of Life have you made?"
Basil: "I've made 10 doses."
Madison patted her chest. "If our Supreme Witch doesn't accept death gracefully like in the original plot, or if she targets me or Zoe as the next Supreme, this might be useful."
Zoe nodded. "I checked my stats. Without Cordelia, I probably really am the next Supreme."
Madison: "And I redeemed 3 Legendary cards earlier. Luckily they were all Summons. But I can't always rely on summons. If I get exposed, I'm done for. I don't want to be identified as the next Supreme. Unless it's Cordelia, Fiona will kill anyone else in that position. Although Fiona doesn't have permanent mind-reading magic like Nan, just in case—"
Zoe: "Wait, Madison. You really didn't notice? Nan likes hanging out with us because we're quiet. She can't hear our thoughts. The group chat obviously protects our minds."
Madison: "That girl with the Down syndrome face? I don't pay attention to people who aren't worth noticing."
Madison: "By the way, what was that thing Snape was holding?"
Madison: "He came down from the fourth floor or higher... hmm, must be the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore asked him to fetch it."
Madison: "I bet that thing is definitely useful."
Basil's perspective shifted to the silver instrument in Snape's hand.
Its structure was unique, like a globe but with a mirror replacing the sphere.
This mirror passed over the long tables, attracting the attention of the surrounding crowd, and landed in Dumbledore's hands.
The deliverer—Snape—immediately headed for the basement via the side door.
Without a moment's pause. Without exchanging a single word with Dumbledore.
Under everyone's expectant gaze, Dumbledore rotated the silver mirror, but nothing happened.
He smiled thoughtfully and continued eating the chocolate and peppermint humbugs on his plate. He looked very cheerful, even humming an unknown tune.
Inside the Club Space, Sophie mocked, "You guessed wrong, D-list celebrity. It's just an ordinary mirror."
——
Late at night, 10:30 PM.
Having returned to his dormitory early to rest, Basil detached his consciousness from the Club Space.
Not only because Madison complained of a dry mouth, Beatrice ached all over, and Sophie and Zoe had logged off early.
But also because Dumbledore had been fiddling with that mirror ever since returning to his office. Meanwhile, another silver mirror sat beside it—the one used to communicate with Nicolas Flamel.
And now, a voice came from that second silver mirror.
"Albus, I'm currently planning our funeral ceremony with Perenelle. You better have a good reason for interrupting me."
Dumbledore smiled gently. "You have a whole century to plan that."
"You remember this mirror in my hand, don't you?"
Nicolas Flamel hesitated for a moment. "That piece you made when you were a sprightly 78-year-old? I remember! You were fascinated by non-beings like Dementors and Boggarts. Creatures that feed on emotion, transcend life and death, and cannot be truly destroyed."
"And truly high-level spells are inseparable from emotion, whether positive or negative."
"So you had an idea. Invent a tool to observe... observe emotion itself."
Dumbledore nodded. "I used it today."
"A young, great wizard, suspected of carrying King Arthur's bloodline, suddenly possessed a sword inscribed with the name Excalibur."
"Today, he was so handsome even I lost my composure, yet he caused no commotion among the students."
"Not to boast, but my self-control is rare, and my aesthetic sense isn't outdated."
Nicolas Flamel's disgusted voice came from the silver mirror. "So you thought of using this tool? Can you fix your excessive voyeurism? Don't tell me you've actually fallen for him?"
"The last person you monitored like this, I recall, was that Scamander fellow who was popular with beasts."
Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "Monitored? That word is too harsh. This is concern for my students."
"The power to control hearts, whether for good or evil, is worth my vigilance."
Nicolas Flamel huffed lightly, disagreeing with Dumbledore's view. But he still asked curiously, "So, what's your conclusion after observing?"
Dumbledore stood up and began pacing excitedly in circles. "That sword is a sun! A sun condensed from all beautiful aspirations."
"We can close the case! The legend of King Arthur is real!"
"There truly was a legendary king on this land!"
"His blood descendant is in my school!"
"He is hope! The hope to make this country great again!"
Nicolas Flamel: "Are you preparing to play the role of Merlin? And don't forget, the Ministry of Magic doesn't need a King."
Dumbledore stopped pacing. "I will make them need one."
Nicolas Flamel was puzzled. "Why do you trust him so much? You've never trusted anyone like this."
Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with the light of memory. "If you saw that sword, you would understand. The master it recognizes must represent the will of all good people, not himself."
That night, Basil slept poorly.
In his dream, a white-bearded old man with Dumbledore's face, calling himself Merlin, kept getting close to him.
So, early the next morning.
"Don't come over! Don't come over here!"
Basil woke up abruptly from his dream, looking like the screaming meme guy.
Just as he thought it was only a dream, through his all-seeing vision, he saw Dumbledore walking into the Gryffindor common room, heading towards the dormitory.
Harry, woken by Basil's scream, poked his head out with concern. "Basil, what's wrong? Who shouldn't come over?"
Basil shrugged. "I had a nightmare. Dumbledore walked into our dorm and invited me to join his private lessons over the summer."
"Wow, looks like you've awakened the Inner Eye too." At that moment, Dumbledore actually stepped through the dormitory door, looking surprised.
"Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed excitedly. Then, as if realizing something, "Can I join too? Join your private lessons! I don't want to go back to my aunt and uncle's house! I don't want to see Dudley's big face again!"
He had thought about going to Sirius's house, but after last night, he abandoned that idea.
Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Of course you can. But—"
"But what?" Harry looked ready to jump to the ceiling.
Dumbledore spoke gently, "10 days. You must stay at the Dursleys' for 10 days. The charm your mother used to protect you still flows in your blood, maintained by your blood relatives on your mother's side. So, every summer, you must return there for a while."
Realizing there was a third party—who opposed Voldemort and took the Sorcerer's Stone—Dumbledore felt that Harry's training could no longer just focus on building character and morality as originally planned.
Basil also needed a younger 'Merlin' to assist him. Out of habit (and perhaps bias), he didn't think of Hermione, but Harry.
"My mother?" Harry touched the exposed blue veins on the back of his hand. "Mom."
Suddenly, suffering at the Dursleys didn't seem so bad.
For a moment, he even had the urge to retract his request to join Dumbledore's private lessons.
Dumbledore shifted his gaze, staring intensely into Basil's azure eyes. "And you? Are you willing?"
Basil was speechless.
He suddenly wanted to say, Fam, who understands my pain?
But conveniently, he didn't really want to leave Hogwarts yet. He wanted to stay here openly.
After all, today was the day everyone took the train home.
Last Thursday, their first-year grades had been released.
Notices forbidding the use of magic outside school had also been distributed for them to sign; the Trace was now active. Of course, except for Basil, who was already an adult.
Last night, the house-elves had emptied their wardrobes and packed their trunks.
All pets had returned to their owners, including Trevor, who had been hiding in the girls' bathroom from Neville for nearly two weeks.
Clearly, today was the day they left the castle.
So, Basil said, "Can I stay at Hogwarts? I mean, having the lessons right here at school."
"You know, I'm an orphan now. The elders in my family didn't have the habit of leaving magical portraits."
"Besides, regarding the Basilisk skin you promised me... after Professor Snape processed it, there's still too much left. I need your help to sell the rest for a fair price. The biggest underground market in wizarding Britain is at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade."
"Considering everything, staying at Hogwarts is perfect for us."
Dumbledore fell into deep thought. But he wasn't thinking about Basil staying at school.
He was thinking about how to get Mundungus Fletcher to give Basil a fair price.
Mundungus was actually one of his brother Aberforth's contacts, before Mundungus got banned from the Hog's Head for life.
Later, Mundungus acted as a loose affiliate of the Order of the Phoenix, doing intelligence and broker work.
He was trustworthy in that he wouldn't betray his partners' lives, but regarding their money... he was more than happy to steal or scam it.
After careful consideration, Dumbledore decided he would buy Basil's Basilisk skin himself.
Of course, on the surface, he said, "Alright, I'll help you handle the Basilisk skin. You can stay at school. But Harry, as I said, you go home as normal. I'll pick you up at the Dursleys' next Thursday at 8 PM."
"Whoopee!" Harry raised both hands high.
"Ow~" Ron covered his eye. His bed was right next to Harry's. He had groggily lifted his head to see what was happening, only for his left eye to meet Harry's right hand.
"What are you guys doing?"
"Dumbledore!"