A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Walking along the winding paths of the Forbidden Forest, William cradled Fawkes the phoenix in his arms.

With both hands, he gently stroked Fawkes using what could only be described as expert petting techniques, trying to discreetly pluck a tail feather or two.

Fawkes seemed entirely unaware of William's devious intentions, blissfully enjoying the massage, its eyes closed in pleasure. If Fawkes could speak, it might have exclaimed, "Five-star service! Extend the session!"

Dumbledore, walking alongside, didn't seem to notice William's attempt to charm away his phoenix. Smiling warmly, he said, "William, what you did tonight was truly noble."

William shook his head. "I only helped the centaurs because I didn't want to see them massacred."

"Standing up against a dangerous dark wizard is noble in itself," Dumbledore said with approval.

"Well, I also had my reasons," William admitted with a chuckle. "Newt once told me that only by helping intelligent magical creatures can we earn their trust and work with them as equals."

The incident with the merpeople had been a harsh lesson for William.

Before that, he hadn't thought of magical creatures as "people," but they were undeniably intelligent beings. 

If he'd communicated with the merpeople instead of using Cedric and the twins' baiting tactics to take their hair, the Christmas ambush might never have happened.

William was a reflective person; he didn't repeat his mistakes. The centaurs were his chance to make a change.

If he wanted access to the precious herbs in the Forbidden Forest, he needed good relations with the centaurs. 

While Bane hated humans, Ronan and Firenze did not, and a significant portion of the centaur tribe seemed indifferent toward wizards.

As a wise leader once said: "Make as many friends as possible and as few enemies as necessary."

This principle never grew old. Who knew? Maybe one day Firenze or Ronan would rise to become the centaur leader.

"You're right; many wizards fail to see that," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "We truly need to form alliances with magical creatures.

"Our allies are too few."

Looking up at the bright stars, Dumbledore's voice grew somber. "During the last wizarding war, the Death Eaters had giants, werewolves, and vampires fighting alongside them. We lacked the experience and numbers to counter them, and many wizards lost their lives.

"If only we'd united all possible allies back then, so many unnecessary deaths might have been avoided."

His voice echoed through the forest.

"William, building a relationship with the centaurs won't be easy. They're a stubborn people. I've long hoped to invite them to Hogwarts as Divination professors, but they refuse to leave the forest."

William raised an eyebrow. Did Dumbledore also think Professor Trelawney was a fraud? Why, then, had he kept her around for twelve years?

Dumbledore never did anything without reason. Could Trelawney actually be a hidden gem at Hogwarts?

This sudden thought sparked William's curiosity about the so-called charlatan.

"Professor, I have another question," William said after a moment of hesitation. "Was the wizard tonight the same one who attacked Gringotts?"

"Yes, it was him," Dumbledore replied without hesitation.

"Why would he kill a unicorn?"

"The blood of a unicorn can sustain life and restore power, even if one is on the brink of death.

"That man had already lost most of his strength. His fight with you at Gringotts cost him years of accumulated power, so he needed the unicorn's blood."

"But I thought unicorn blood—"

"You're right," Dumbledore said with a heavy sigh. "A unicorn represents purity and innocence.

"The moment its blood touches your lips, you gain a cursed half-life—a life that is neither fully alive nor truly dead.

"But for Voldemort, what does one more curse matter? He's already inflicted far worse curses upon himself."

William's brows furrowed. 

He had suspected the dark wizard might be Voldemort, but hearing Dumbledore confirm it so plainly still unsettled him.

"So, Voldemort is the one controlling Quirrell to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "He's been lingering here since the summer."

"Then why let Quirrell remain at the school if you already know Voldemort is behind this?"

William had always assumed Dumbledore was baiting a trap, trying to uncover who was manipulating Quirrell. But now it seemed Dumbledore already knew and had deliberately set up challenges. 

This was no simple baiting the fish, but playing with fire.

Dumbledore let out a deep sigh.

"William, you know that Voldemort attacked Harry as a baby.

"He should have died that night but instead lost most of his strength.

"Voldemort has often boasted to his Death Eaters that he's ventured further down the path to immortality than anyone else.

"I have some theories about his methods, but no concrete evidence yet. I need to observe him further.

"And most importantly, William, I need someone to be fully prepared to face him in a final battle.

"This is a test and a crucible."

William frowned, wanting to ask more, but Dumbledore raised a hand.

"Not yet. Someday, you'll understand.

"When you're older—yes, I know you hate hearing that— but when the time comes, you'll know everything."

William nodded.

"Ah, I think I hear Hagrid's voice," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Let's find him. I imagine he wouldn't mind making us some pine-needle tea to warm us up."

…

At the same time, a dark-robed wizard slipped into Hogwarts through a secret passage.

Quirrell didn't return to his Defense Against the Dark Arts office but headed toward the Forbidden Corridor on the fourth floor.

With Dumbledore occupied in the Forbidden Forest and Snape incapacitated, dangling from a tree branch, there was no one left to stop him from stealing the Philosopher's Stone.

Voldemort hadn't planned to act so soon, but the night's events had created an unexpected opportunity. Waiting for another chance might not be wise.

Even if they failed, he had contingency plans in place.

Under Voldemort's command, Quirrell unlocked the door to find the three-headed dog, Fluffy, growling at him, its cross-eyed gaze fixed on the intruder.

Quirrell trembled uncontrollably. It wasn't his first encounter with Fluffy, but every time, the sight of the massive dog made his knees shake.

"Fool! Play the song!" Voldemort hissed.

At Christmas, Quirrell had disguised himself as a mysterious wizard and tricked Hagrid into revealing Fluffy's weakness. A drunken Hagrid had boasted that Fluffy would only fall asleep to music, and his singing worked best.

Quirrell believed him.

He'd even recorded Hagrid's singing with a crystal ball.

Quirrell fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the crystal ball, placing it on the floor. A loud, off-key voice burst forth:

"Unforgettable tonight, unforgettable tonight,

No matter the distance, Hogwarts is our home…"

"Hurry up and sleep!" Quirrell muttered anxiously, staring at Fluffy.

"Three, two, one… collapse!"

But his hopeful smile quickly froze.

Why won't this stupid dog sleep?!

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