HP: Alchemy? Nah, It's Crafting

Chapter 63: 63: That Wasn't The Right Call



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"You just need to take one look, and you'll understand. That face, twisted and deformed by dark magic and magical mutations—it's unmistakable," Dumbledore said calmly.

"No, no..." Fudge replied, his voice trembling slightly. "The Dark Lord died eleven years ago at Godric's Hollow. He was defeated—killed—by Harry Potter. This is just an ordinary Dark wizard. Quirinus Quirrell, the Dark wizard you accuse, should be... well..."

Fudge swallowed hard before continuing, "I wouldn't use the Killing Curse, nor would I subject him to a Dementor's Kiss. A regular Dark wizard can be locked away in Azkaban. He won't escape."

"He's not the Dark Lord. He's nothing more than a bold Dark wizard—bold enough to act under your nose. But still, just a... regular Dark wizard!" Fudge insisted, though his words seemed more for himself than anyone else.

Dumbledore sighed, his disappointment palpable.

If Fudge had ordered an Auror to cast the Killing Curse on Voldemort, it would at least signify that Fudge, while afraid of Voldemort, acknowledged the reality of his return.

But no—what Dumbledore saw now was a man so desperate to cling to his position as Minister of Magic that he willingly turned a blind eye, choosing to send Voldemort to Azkaban rather than confront the truth.

It was almost the same as letting him go free, differing by only a step or two.

"You can still look at his face," Dumbledore said, a faint glimmer of hope lingering in his voice.

"I've looked, and I know this face!" Fudge retorted hastily. "This is Quirinus Quirrell. Dumbledore, you old fool... ehm.." He shook his head vehemently, then turned to the two Aurors behind him. "Take him away!"

Kasenhis furrowed his brow, casting a questioning glance at Dumbledore. After a moment of mutual understanding, Dumbledore nodded, albeit reluctantly.

In the next instant, a wither skull materialized and shot toward Quirrell. But instead of exploding, it merged seamlessly into his flesh.

Almost immediately, Quirrell's body began to collapse and disintegrate, his form unraveling before their eyes.

Like a piece of charcoal that had burned entirely, Quirrell's body crumbled into fragments at the slightest touch.

Moments later, a wisp of black smoke rose from the remains of his corpse, slowly dissipating into the air.

"…Kasenhis! What did you—no, Professor Kasen, ahaha.." Fudge said, forcing a tight smile of relief. "Since you killed a Dark wizard this time, the Ministry will let it slide."

"You might prefer addressing me as Sir Kasen instead," Kasenhis replied with a faint smile.

Fudge's expression darkened, but he refrained from arguing further. Without another word, he hurriedly left Hogwarts with the two Aurors in tow.

"…This Fudge..." Kasenhis muttered, watching the trio from the Ministry as they departed Hogwarts grounds through the window.

"Many years ago, he wasn't like this," Dumbledore said from his chair. "He may not have been particularly brave, but at least he… Never mind."

He waved the thought away.

"You did well, Kasenhis. Even if you hadn't acted, I would have arranged for Quirrell to meet his end in Azkaban."

"Only fools let their enemies slip away right under their noses, let alone two enemies," Kasenhis said quietly.

"Indeed…" Dumbledore responded thoughtfully.

"By the way," Kasenhis began casually, "when I was in France, I met Nicolas Flamel."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, though his mind was already crafting excuses to exit this conversation if necessary.

"He said that once you're done using the Philosopher's Stone, you should hand it over to me."

"Oh... did he say anything else?" 

"He also said... ahem... 'What does Dumbledore know about alchemy? What use is the Philosopher's Stone in his hands?' something like that." 

Dumbledore's face flushed slightly as he awkwardly removed his glasses, pulling out a velvet cloth to clean them.

"…We'll deal with this at the end of the term," he muttered.

"And you still owe me... let me calculate. The previous alchemy professor's annual salary was..." 

"It's here, take it." Dumbledore interrupted, pulling an irregularly shaped red gemstone from his pocket and placing it on the desk.

Kasenhis picked up the Philosopher's Stone. Unlike last time, he felt as though the Stone's magical power was flowing toward him.

"Hmm? Can you sense this kind of magical fluctuation?" 

Dumbledore looked over, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"It doesn't seem harmful. Let it be."

"Looks like I'll have to spend some time studying this so-called Philosopher's Stone," Kasenhis murmured to himself.

"That can wait. What you need to focus on right now is something else—did you forget about the end-of-term exams?" Dumbledore reminded him.

"I will... but first, I'll check on those four troublemakers in the hospital wing."

Upon arriving at the hospital wing, Kasenhis found Madam Pomfrey, who informed him that Ron had already woken up, much to his relief.

It was a shame he came in a rush and hadn't brought any fruit baskets, but carnations were still an option.

With a flick of his fingers, he conjured four carnations and walked in.

"Congratulations, all four of you. You managed to survive under a dark wizard's wand."

Harry managed a small smile, showing that the physical injuries inflicted by Quirrell hadn't left him in too bad a state.

"Professor, about that... thing on the back of Quirrell's head..." Harry began.

"You're right. It was him," Kasenhis nodded.

The previously calm faces of Harry and Neville instantly fell.

"But now he's dead. Although... not necessarily completely dead."

"Not completely dead...?" Harry muttered.

"Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?" Ron asked, looking confused.

"Well... go ahead and tell them, though it's unlikely anyone else will believe it," Kasenhis said with a shrug, glancing at Harry.

Harry took a deep breath and said, "Voldemort isn't dead. He was... attached to the back of Quirrell's head."

The hospital wing went silent for a moment.

"Really?" Ron and Hermione both turned their gazes toward Kasenhis.

"It's true," Kasenhis confirmed. "Although he's dead for now, it doesn't necessarily mean he's completely gone. He might still be around, just like he was after what happened eleven years ago. But don't go spreading this around—it would only cause unnecessary panic."

"But Professor, why? A dark lord like him is still alive! We should tell everyone—" Hermione started.

"If you were the Minister of Magic, or someone high up in the Ministry, I'd be thrilled to let you handle the publicity. Unfortunately, you're not. In fact, Dumbledore wasn't trying to inform Fudge about Voldemort's survival just to stir up fear—he was trying to organize forces to take him down."

"And... did Fudge agree?" Ron asked.

"Mm-hmm," Kasenhis replied with a look that needed no further explanation.

"Oh," the four students murmured, all lowering their heads in disappointment.

"By the way."

Kasenhis added, sticking his head back through the door just as he was about to leave. "one more thing—you didn't take my words to heart."

"You chose an alchemical stone over four lives, which wasn't the right call. So, Gryffindor loses... forty points. But don't worry; you could earn it back in, oh, two lessons or so."

With that, he left the hospital wing, leaving the four to contemplate their choices.

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