vncnus Chapter 207 Empty Shell and Appraisal
Chapter 207 Empty Shell and Appraisal
Chapter 207 Empty Shell and Appraisal
Following Dumbledore into the room, the layout largely matched the descriptions in his "past life memories," yet with subtle differences. The air was filled with the scent of earth and moss. The first thing that caught the eye was an unusually dense vine-like plant that almost completely occupied the entrance area of the room. Its deep green leaves gleamed oilily in the light of the wand, and its thick vines, like sleeping pythons, intertwined and covered the floor and walls.
"Ah, Pomona's Devil's Web," Dumbledore's voice broke the silence, tinged with admiration, "a hospitable plant, especially welcoming to uninvited guests." He waved his wand lightly, and a soft, warm light shone down. The vines, like mimosa pudica basking in the sun, immediately recoiled, revealing a narrow passage. "Warmth and calmness are key to dealing with them. Unfortunately, they weren't of any use." After confirming that Voldemort had indeed fled without entering, his tone softened, yet a hint of regret lingered.
Karen understood immediately; this was Professor Sprout's challenge. He nodded in agreement, a mixture of surprise and understanding on his face: "Devil's Web? A clever, and—dangerous design." He cautiously followed Dumbledore through the area of plants that had once again become "docile."
The next room opened up dramatically. Beneath the high dome, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of keys of various shapes and sizes swirled and danced in the air like a disturbed swarm of bees, producing a soft, metallic clatter. They gleamed with silver, copper, and even a few glowed with an unusual blue light. At the far end of the room stood a heavy oak door, its keyhole clearly visible.
Dumbledore looked up at the flying keys. "Each key carries a different magical trajectory. Only the one that resonates with the lock's magic can open it. This requires extraordinary dynamic vision and flying skills." He looked at Cullen with interest. "Guess which professor was responsible?"
"Is it Professor Flitwick or Professor McGonagall?" Karen pretended to think and cooperated. "I think they could be either, but I'm more inclined to believe it's Professor Flitwick, because based on my observation, the spellcasting marks on this are more like Professor Flitwick's handwriting." Karen reached out and stopped a key, pretending to look at it.
“Absolutely right.” A glint of amusement flashed in Dumbledore’s eyes. “It seems you know our professors quite well. But it’s certainly easier now that we’re spared the hassle of riding broomsticks.” He waved his wand again, and an invisible force precisely cleared the key blocking their path. The two easily passed through this “key storm” and arrived at the door. Dumbledore didn’t even try to find the key; instead, he lightly tapped the lock with his wand. A complex magical rune flashed, and the door slid open silently.
Behind the door was a vast, empty stone chamber. The floor was cut into a huge, black-and-white checkerboard pattern, each square large enough for a person to stand in. The air was thick with the smell of dust and old stone. Opposite the checkerboard was another tightly closed door.
"An interesting wizarding chess challenge." Dumbledore stood at the edge of the chessboard, his gaze sweeping over the massive, motionless pieces—heavy stone statues carved with images of knights, bishops, and castles, silently standing in their respective positions. "A real-life game of chess that requires courage, wisdom, and sacrifice. The loser—the price will be heavy. Guess?"
“Professor McGonagall,” Karen replied immediately this time, “a master of transfiguration, and this game is full of strategy and rules, which is very much in line with my impression of Professor McGonagall.”
"A keen observation." Dumbledore nodded, not stepping onto the chessboard. "According to the rules, it does take some time to pass. Of course, if you're strong enough, you can just smash them, but we can take a shortcut." He pointed his wand at the side wall again, and a hidden stone door quietly appeared, providing a path around the chessboard.
The next room was filled with an indescribable, pungent stench, a mixture of decay and the smell of wild animals. Huge wooden clubs and broken bones lay scattered in the corners. But the room was empty.
"This was supposed to be Quirinus's level, a troll," Dumbledore explained calmly, as if introducing an ordinary classroom. "However, with Quirinus's unfortunate passing, the creature was properly relocated elsewhere. Skip to the next one." His tone was largely flat.
They continued forward and entered a long, narrow room. In the center of the room was a stone table, on which seven crystal bottles of different shapes and sizes were neatly arranged. At the other end of the stone table was a curtain of blazing black flames, radiating an eerie heat. Behind the curtain, a small stone platform could be vaguely seen.
"You don't need to guess this one; it's Severus's riddle." Dumbledore walked to the stone table, his gaze sweeping over the bottles. "Seven bottles, three poisonous, two wine. One will allow you to safely pass through the black flames ahead, and the other will allow you to safely return through the purple flames behind. The clue is in the riddle; he always likes to play these tricks!"
Dumbledore didn't bother reading the riddle slips on the table; instead, he reached out and precisely picked up the most inconspicuous-looking small bottle containing a clear liquid. "This will allow you to safely pass through the black flames. However, we don't need it today."
Dumbledore pointed his wand at the black flames again, and the flames parted as if they were alive, revealing a passage. Cullen was curious about these flames; they were different from ordinary fire spells, and they shouldn't be the flames of the Fiendfyre spell either.
The two passed through the flames and arrived at the last small room. The room was small and simple, with only a lone stone pillar standing in the center.
At the top of the stone pillar, a bright red gem lay quietly. Within it, flames seemed to flow slowly, radiating a warm and alluring light—it was the legendary Philosopher's Stone, albeit an imposter.
"Ah, our poor Mr. Voldemort pursued his goal for an entire school year, even going so far as to parasitize the poor, creating panic and slaughter," Dumbledore stepped forward, gently picking up the red gem, which gleamed meekly in the headmaster's hand. "Yet he couldn't even truly enter through the door. How ironic." A hint of pity crossed his aged face, but his eyes were sharp as an eagle's.
Karen's gaze fell on the stone, then quickly scanned his surroundings, his face revealing obvious surprise and a hint of confusion: "Headmaster, you just left it here like that? Without any extra protection?" His tone was full of disbelief, which was exactly the reaction he should have as an "uninformed person"—at the same time, he was also surprised that the crucial Mirror of Eris from the original work was missing!
Dumbledore turned to look at Cullen, keenly noticing the surprise in her voice—not surprise at the existence of the Philosopher's Stone, but surprise at its casual placement. He smiled slightly, a smile carrying a deeper meaning and a hint of barely perceptible amusement.
“You seem surprised by its lack of protection, Cullen?” Dumbledore asked gently, his fingers tracing the smooth surface of the gem. “After the Basilisk crisis, I did reassess the layout here. I originally designed a very interesting magical artifact, a mirror.” He paused, observing Cullen’s reaction, but she controlled it well, merely showing an expression of focused listening. “A mirror that reflects the deepest desires of a person. My idea was that only those who truly wanted to find the Philosopher’s Stone without wanting to use it could truly obtain it. A paradoxical trap based on desire, isn’t it interesting?”
Karen nodded, indicating that she understood the brilliance of the idea: "It sounds like—very Dumbledore-esque."
"Thank you for the compliment." Dumbledore's smile deepened. "However, I changed my mind later. The situation changed too quickly, and—I felt that Mr. Voldemort might not be so easily swayed by his inner desires, or he might not even care whether he himself got the stone, as long as he got it. So, I moved it. You see," he pointed to the black flames at the entrance to the room and Snape's potion barrier outside, "these obstacles are enough to deter most uninvited guests. Moreover, sometimes placing the real treasure in the most conspicuous yet inaccessible location is more deceptive than hiding it."
He weighed the fake Philosopher's Stone in his hand, a sly glint in his eyes. "More importantly, it seems my credibility with him hasn't completely collapsed yet. He still firmly believes the stone is real and worth the enormous price he's paid to steal it. This gives me—well, another chance to fool him? Hopefully, he won't mind." Dumbledore's tone was almost casually mocking, but beneath that casualness lay confidence and a precise grasp of his enemy's psychology.
"So, he failed this time, but he doesn't know he can't get the real Philosopher's Stone. Next time, he might still be aiming for 'it'," Karen stated.
“Absolutely right, Cullen.” Dumbledore gently placed the fake Philosopher's Stone back on top of the pillar, its deep red light still alluring. “As long as he still believes what he needs is here, as long as he doesn't know we've uncovered his existence and methods, this stage can continue. And each time he takes the stage, he might leave us with new clues. It's just that his break this time might be a bit long.” He turned, his gaze fixed on the entrance. “Let's go, there's a ton of trouble waiting for us outside. Poor Cornelius, he's probably going to have a sleepless night.”
The two retraced their steps. The Devil's Web remained silent, the keys still danced in the air, the chessboard stood in chilling stillness, and the potion bottles lay untouched. This stage, prepared for Harry, now bore only a dead host and the remnant soul of Voldemort, temporarily escaped but perhaps even more insane and weakened.