Investigation, Rumors
Chapter 105: Investigation, Rumors
The moment the words fell, the eerie voice vanished instantly. Michael's expression, initially frozen in terror, quickly shifted to one of speechlessness.
A moment later, two red-haired heads peeked out from behind the mirror, one on each side.
"Oh, how did you know it was us?" Fred asked, puzzled.
"Must have been your foot not hiding properly, huh?" George said as he stepped out.
"Weren't we both the same?" Fred retorted.
Earlier, they had thought a professor was coming and frantically hid behind the mirror. One foot was tucked behind a claw-shaped support, while the other had to be held up, leaving them clinging to the mirror like octopuses.
When they heard it was Wade and Michael who had entered, the twins immediately felt playful. They pretended to be ghosts, hoping to see Wade and Michael panic, but their trick was called out instantly.
"What are you two doing here?" Wade asked.
"Same as you—came to see why our little Ronnie got knocked out."
Fred also walked over to the pile of ash, squatted down, and curiously poked it with his finger.
Michael said, "Then you should be at the Hospital Wing!"
"Percy went," George said, blinking. "And investigating in the restricted section is much more fun!"
"So this is Quirrell?" Fred asked, confused. "What kind of magic can burn someone like this?"
"Fiendfyre?" Michael guessed. He had only heard the name of this Dark Magic and assumed it must be much more powerful than a regular Incendio.
"Impossible," George said. "Fiendfyre burns everything combustible; it wouldn't leave clothes behind. It looks more like… some other Dark Magic."
"Why don't we just ask Harry when he wakes up?" Wade brought up the question he cared more about. "Have you two studied Fiendfyre?"
Fred grinned proudly. "We snuck into the Library during our night strolls… and read a few books professors don't allow, like Compendium of Spells, Secrets of Advanced Dark Arts, and so on…"
"Fiendfyre is too dangerous and hard to control. Fighting Poison with Poison is much better though; you can learn some very useful minor hexes from it," George generously shared his experience.
The group gathered around the pile, examining it for a while with no results. The twins, however, collected some ash to take back, saying they wanted to make a souvenir for their brother, Ron.
Michael circled the stone room, finding nothing. He walked past the Magic Mirror twice, and suddenly felt as if he'd seen something strange.
He backed up, then slowly turned to face the mirror.
Michael's eyes widened in astonishment, and then his face suddenly flushed.
He was in the mirror, but Wade and the Weasley Twins weren't… He saw Padma.
The girl's wheat-colored skin looked healthy and vibrant, and her oval face held an intoxicatingly sweet smile. She wore a dark blue sari, revealing smooth, slender arms like lotus roots.
The girl, full of affection, held Michael's arm in the mirror, and they were pressed tightly together, inseparable.
For a moment, Michael even began to envy his mirrored self.
"What did you see?" Fred suddenly leaned over from the side, looking at him with a mix of surprise and teasing. "Your face is red enough to boil water!"
"N-n-nothing!" Michael hastily blocked the mirror.
Wade also came over. He looked up at the words on the mirror and read them aloud: "I show not your face… but your heart's desire…"
He looked at Michael meaningfully.
Michael, his face completely red, cleared his throat and secretly took a deep breath to bring down the heat in his face, then he moved away from the mirror.
Once he calmed down, he noticed that, looking from the side, the mirror was empty, showing nothing at all.
"This is a Magic Mirror that shows one's inner desires," Fred said, standing in front of the mirror and laughing heartily. "I saw our prank products become a huge success, and us two lying on a pile of Galleons."
George also laughed. "I saw the Quidditch Cup too!"
Michael saw Wade standing to the side, not intending to go closer, and asked curiously, "Wade, don't you want to take a look?"
"…Hm."
Wade paused in silence before smiling and saying, "What's in the mirror is just an illusion, right? So there's no real need to look—"
Michael nodded.
He understood it as—Wade clearly knew what he wanted, so he didn't need to find satisfaction from a mirror.
However, he still wanted to take another look at Padma in the mirror.
The group lingered in front of the mirror for a while, finally breaking free from the illusory happiness and preparing to leave.
Before leaving, Wade looked back again—the Magic Mirror stood in the center of the empty room, as if emitting a silent summons.
Wade lowered his eyes and hurried to catch up with the other three, as if escaping from a whirlpool.
...
Harry remained unconscious in the Hospital Wing for three days before finally waking up. These past few days, rumors had been rampant throughout the school. Dumbledore hadn't announced the truth, nor had he stopped students from discussing the matter.
Those who had gone through the Trapdoor were constantly surrounded, endlessly begged to retell their adventure.
Neville, having been out of the game early, quickly escaped this predicament; while Theo, the most good-natured, talked himself hoarse. Sometimes, if he accidentally misspoke, someone would loudly retort, "No, that's not what you said last time!"
Soon, every student in the school knew the story's details like the back of their hand, except for the part Harry experienced alone. They all knew Professor Quirrell had tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone, only to suffer the consequences and be defeated by Harry Potter and his companions.
Ron, who had bravely made a sacrifice, became a Gryffindor hero. On the day he woke up, several Gryffindor boys carried him on their shoulders from the Hospital Wing all the way to the Great Hall. His mischievous older brothers cheered him on from the side, making Ron's face as red as his hair.
And privately, an even more "absurd" rumor was quietly spreading—that Quirrell wasn't actually Quirrell, but a puppet controlled by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... and so Harry Potter had once again defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...
Of course, this rumor was too outlandish, and not many truly believed it. But precisely because they didn't believe it, they were even more eager to tell everyone: "You know what? The truth isn't at all what you heard..."
Rumors grew wings and spread rapidly in all directions.
Dumbledore's attitude towards this was ambiguous. When someone directly asked him, he vaguely said, "Hmm... the Philosopher's Stone... it certainly makes many people covet it, especially those who wish to escape death..."
The questioner immediately understood—the name "Voldemort" meant "flight from death."
"Yes, some of our students bravely confronted evil, displaying immense courage and responsibility. They protected the Philosopher's Stone..."
Dumbledore's tone shifted, and he smiled as he said, "But Nicolas and Perenelle have already destroyed the Stone. They've decided that after taking care of some loose ends, they will embark on an unknown path... For old people who have lived long enough, death actually holds a different kind of charm, doesn't it?"
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