From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

“Perhaps you are right.” Dumbledore took off his half-moon spectacles, added three sugar cubes to his black tea, watched them soften and sink to the bottom after being soaked in the tea, and then added a fourth one. “In short, in my personal experience, controlling power is a very difficult thing, no matter what kind of power it is, it is too easy to lose control.”

“It’s not just power that’s easy to lose control of,” Ivy said, taking a sip of her tea and giving a thumbs up to the perfect balance of her milk tea. “Emotions are also easy to lose control of. Excessive love and hate can trigger extreme events. Dramatic emotional changes are just as dangerous as black magic.”

Dumbledore sighed, having to admit that Ivy was right: "Seriously, Ivy, you don't seem like a student who's only been at Hogwarts for a year and a half."

“Of course,” Ivy said smugly, directing the teapot to refill her cup and letting the milk and sugar cubes jump into the cup and stir themselves. “Don’t forget I’m 144 years old this year! It’s only natural that I have a little experience.”

After gazing at Ivy's impeccable smile for a moment, Dumbledore changed the subject: "What do you think about Voldemort's pursuit, Ivy?"

“Pursue?” Ivy repeated the word. “You mean that half-dead state? I think death is about to catch up with him, and he’s completely unaware of it!”

"You don't think his condition can be called living?" Dumbledore stared into Ivy's eyes, confirming again, "Is that right, Ivy?"

“There’s nothing wrong with pursuing immortality, but eternity itself is a false proposition.” Ivy showed no sign of looking away, but this time, Dumbledore did not use Legilimency on him again. “Besides, Voldemort is not pursuing immortality at all; he is simply afraid of death. The fear of death has overwhelmed everything in his heart, except perhaps arrogance and pride.”

Dumbledore stopped looking at Ivy, and a smile appeared on his lips, which were almost completely hidden beneath his white beard: "You're right, Ivy. Voldemort wasn't seeking immortality; he was simply afraid of death. But he did achieve some success in that regard. He can't truly die yet, at least not until we figure out the whole truth."

“You’ve had this in mind all along, haven’t you, Professor Dumbledore?” Ivy decided to give him a hint.

He stared into Dumbledore's questioning eyes and said mysteriously, "Does Harry have any connection with the Gaunt family? As far as I know, the Gaunt family is keen on inbreeding in an attempt to ensure the purity of their bloodline. When I was in my fifth year at Hogwarts, I had a friend who was from the Gaunt family."

“I’m sorry.” Dumbledore straightened up, his two white eyebrows twitching involuntarily. “As far as I know, the Gaunt family died out decades ago, and there has never been any claim that the Potter family has any connection with them. Why do you say this?”

“Because Harry is a Parseltongue. And as everyone knows, Parseltongue is a talent inherited from Slytherin by the Gaunt family.” Ivy was satisfied with the expression on Dumbledore’s face; his azure eyes were wide open, and his two white eyebrows were almost fighting.

But the next second, Dumbledore's expression returned to calm, and he solemnly confirmed, "Are you sure, Ivy?"

“Of course,” Ivy nodded. “That’s what Harry said himself. He once talked to a boa constrictor in a Muggle zoo before he entered Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore rose from his chair and paced back and forth in the headmaster's office with a grave expression.

After a long while, he said to Ivy seriously, "Can I trust you, Ivy?"

Ivy replied easily, "My answer is the same as last time: Hogwarts will always be my home."

Dumbledore's expression relaxed slightly, but his seriousness remained clearly visible: "Very well, I have to tell you something about Voldemort. He's gone further in that regard than I thought, so I have to..."

Dumbledore paused, sighed, and continued, "I had no choice but to involve you."

Chapter 91, ahead of the level

"Voldemort's real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. His mother was a member of the Gaunt family, and he himself is a half-blood wizard," Dumbledore said, leading the way and recounting the information Ivy already knew.

“I think I understand now…” Ivy looked around the room, puzzled. “But why are we here?”

It was an empty room, which the two of them arrived at through a secret passage in the principal's office.

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks, turned around, and looked at Ivy with a serious expression: "What you did to Professor Quirrell really bothered me. You know, everyone deserves a second chance."

I thought this matter was over, so why are we bringing it up again now?

Ivy raised an eyebrow, preparing to go into battle mode: "Come on, Dumbledore, you never intended to give Quirrell a second chance, otherwise you should have intervened the moment you noticed something was wrong with him!"

“You know what? Quirrell is a cowardly coward. He couldn’t possibly fight Voldemort on his own. Ron even found him crying secretly at night. Think about it, Dumbledore, what desperate tears those were?”

"A young wizard who has only recently graduated from Hogwarts was controlled by Voldemort right under the nose of the world's greatest white wizard? Quirrell was once your student! If you were going to give him a second chance, you should have helped him break free from the influence of darkness much earlier!"

"Or are you saying you won't act unless Quirrell asks you for help? Dumbledore, being a bystander is a sin!"

These words had been brewing in Ivy's mind for a long time. Even before he transmigrated, he hated being morally blackmailed by others. Therefore, when he gained power, he was determined to become someone who would blackmail morality!

Words are weapons, and Ivy was glad she hadn't been outmaneuvered.

However, when he looked at Dumbledore again, he found that his "weapon" might have been too sharp, as there were tears in Dumbledore's blue eyes.

“You are right, Ivy.” Dumbledore looked at him with a sorrowful gaze. “I bear an undeniable responsibility for that. I did not expect Voldemort to possess Quirrell.”

"Although I am often referred to as the greatest white wizard of the 20th century, I am actually just an ordinary person, and I make mistakes just like ordinary people."

"In fact, because I am much smarter than most people, my mistakes are correspondingly more serious."

"If anyone can save Professor Quirrell's soul in this school, it can only be me. I am indeed responsible for his death."

Ivy stared at him in disbelief. Admitting a mistake is not easy, especially for someone like Dumbledore, who had lived for almost a century in a high position, surrounded by praise and reverence. If it were anyone else, they would probably have taken the compliments seriously and become a stubborn megalomaniac.

But Dumbledore was not. He was not blinded by his fame, and even easily admitted his mistake under Ivy's deliberate provocation.

Honestly, if he were in that situation, Ivy felt he might have annihilated anyone who pointed out his mistakes, even though he had heard the saying "honest advice is hard to swallow" since he was a child.

Faced with Dumbledore's sincere words, Ivy was momentarily at a loss for words. He was already prepared for battle, and he was confident that he could defeat the old wizard before him, whether in a verbal exchange or a magical confrontation.

But Dumbledore… Ivy couldn’t say for sure.

“Hmm…” Ivy hesitated for a moment, but decided to comfort the old man. At times like this, all she had to do was point out Quirrell’s flaws and the evil deeds he had committed. “No matter what, Quirrell is a dark wizard. He broke into Gringotts to steal the Philosopher’s Stone… and failed? He also released a troll at the Halloween party, causing huge destruction… and increasing the workload of the house-elves?… And then he even tried to cast a spell on Harry’s flying broomstick during a Quidditch match… and was stopped by my Anti-Dark Charm?”

Ivy racked her brains to recall all the bad things Quirrell had done, and was surprised to find that none of them had caused any significant loss of life or property damage.

Damn it, when did British black wizards become so lame? After all that, not a single person died!

“Yes! Quirrell killed a unicorn! He caused significant damage to Hogwarts’ property! Just think how many wand cores a unicorn can provide!” Ivy suddenly remembered what had happened just a few hours earlier. “He also cast a curse on me, the Unforgivable Curse! Two Crucifixions! Do you know how much damage that is to a first-year wizard?”

Ivy's train of thought became increasingly clear, and a flood of Quirrell's misdeeds came rushing back: "He's also a smuggler! He smuggled dragon eggs! Back in 1709 at the Wizarding Conference, that was already classified as a criminal offense!"

The next second, Ivy realized what he had said. He apologized to Hagrid in his heart and then shifted all the blame onto Quirrell.

"Ahem." Ivy cleared his throat. "Anyway, even if I hadn't killed him, Quirrell should have been locked up in Azkaban. Someone as cowardly as him wouldn't have survived there."

“Thank you for your comfort, Ivy.” Dumbledore smiled and thanked him, then said, “I was just blinded by tears, so I didn’t hear anything about the dragon eggs.”

Ivy wasn't going to dwell on the matter, so he changed the subject: "Why did you bring me here?"

"You already know everything about the Philosopher's Stone, don't you?" Dumbledore stood in front of a mirror, gazing at his reflection in a slightly dazed state.

“Of course.” Ivy also came to the mirror and found a tea stain on her collar. The sugar and milk made it a little difficult to clean, but fortunately, Ivy was a wizard and a simple cleaning spell could solve everything.

Dumbledore watched in surprise as Ivy cleaned his collar, then asked, "So you've heard of this mirror?"

“A mirror?” Ivy looked up and saw a line of golden inscription engraved at the top of the frame. Read forwards, it was a string of letters with no meaning. Only when read backwards could the magic of the mirror be revealed: I do not show you your face, but your desires.

"The Mirror of Eris." As soon as Ivy realized this, the image in the mirror immediately changed. He saw a more powerful, more handsome, and more knowledgeable version of himself, surrounded by various magic books and magical artifacts, all proclaiming his identity—a truly noble mage.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore nodded. “It seems you’ve enjoyed it too. I’m curious, what did you see in it, Ivy?”

“Initially, it was just me,” Ivy said, looking at himself in the mirror as he conjured a magnificent staff out of thin air. He immediately understood that it was the power of the ninth-circle spell, Prayer.

The Wish spell is arguably the pinnacle of Dungeons and D&D magic, and the most powerful spell achievable by any mortal being. By casting this spell, you can manipulate the very fabric of reality according to your desires. It's roughly equivalent to a genie lamp that grants wishes.

“But when I realized it was the Mirror of Erised, the image immediately changed.” Ivy watched with satisfaction as she saw herself in the mirror displaying various magical spells. “That was me from the future.”

Dumbledore said in a cautionary tone, "As you know, the Mirror of Erised shows your desires, not the real future."

“That is the future me, and perhaps I will be even more perfect than it appears.” Ivy’s voice was resolute. “I know where I am going, and I have the determination, perseverance, and ability to act on it. All difficulties along the way will bow down at my feet, and I will eventually reach that place. So, that is the future.”

“Alright, Ivy.” Dumbledore didn’t continue the conversation. He stopped looking at himself in the mirror and said to Ivy, “Now that you know about the Philosopher’s Stone and the Mirror of Erised, I happen to have something I need your help with.”

"I'd like to hear the details." Ivy had already vaguely guessed what was going on.

“The professors of Hogwarts have cast protective spells here, and the door in front of us made of flames is Professor Snape’s masterpiece. I would like to ask you to add another layer of protection to this place as well,” Dumbledore continued.

"Are you sure?" Ivy asked. "Quirok is dead, Voldemort is gone, no one would be foolish enough to covet the Philosopher's Stone hidden here."

“Oh, actually this isn’t a form of protection; it’s more like a test,” Dumbledore explained. “I had hoped that Professor Quirrell would be able to recall his time at Hogwarts after passing these tests, but now he doesn’t have that chance.”

"So I was thinking, why not put this place to good use? How about as an extra activity at the end of the semester, another competition besides the Quidditch Cup? What do you think?"

Using a magic stone as a prize is not a good idea.

Ivy silently grumbled to herself, without responding.

“Of course, the prize is 150 points in the House Cup.” Seemingly noticing Ivy’s concerns, Dumbledore continued to explain, “It’s too early for children who are still in school to be exposed to the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Alright, I agree.” Ivy took out the glittering silver fairy magic wand and conjured a wall using ancient magic.

The wall stood directly between the Flame Gate and the Mirror of Erised set up by Snape, dividing the empty room in two.

Ancient magic created a water-like image on the wall, revealing a lush, vibrant green landscape.

"Whoever touches it will be pulled into an incredibly realistic illusion, and only those who are most determined in their goals can pass through here. I encountered quite a few walls like this when I was in school," Ivy explained to Dumbledore, putting away her wand.

“Very good, Ivy.” Dumbledore examined Ivy’s masterpiece briefly, then nodded to him. “Now there’s only one last thing left.”

"Given that you've caused Hogwarts to lose a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I suppose you yourself would be willing to fill that vacancy? I thought that as Voldemort's henchman, Professor Quirrell would at least be able to teach until the end of the term!" Dumbledore's suggestion was utterly absurd. Killing his own professor and then having to fill his vacancy? When did Hogwarts become such a school that believed in the survival of the fittest?

"There's still more than half of the semester left, and it won't be easy to find a professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts." Dumbledore stared at Ivy expectantly, his eyes shining brightly.

“I’m only a first-year student!” Ivy refused. He knew all too well what a miserable life the professors at Hogwarts led. The students were bored to death, and the professors never had a moment to rest. Just look at Snape and McGonagall; they were practically the two workaholics of Hogwarts.

Not only do they have to teach two classes a week to each of the seven grades, but they also have to handle all sorts of miscellaneous tasks as the headmaster, plus various disputes between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Moreover, one of them is Dumbledore's double agent, and the other is the vice-headmaster of Hogwarts. Apart from their regular duties as professors, these identities alone are enough to keep them busy!

“But your strength has surpassed that of all the professors in this school, and even mine!” Dumbledore pressed on relentlessly.

“I’m only 1.3 meters tall! I’m not even an adult yet!” Ivy took a step back.

“But you are 144 years old this year! And you know very sophisticated Transfiguration! I remember very clearly that you once had your classmate attend class for you!” Dumbledore continued to press until Ivy had nowhere left to retreat.

"Then I want to keep the dragon in the secret room of the map!" Seeing that he had no way out, Ivy started to make outrageous demands. He originally wanted the Philosopher's Stone, but considering that Dumbledore was planning to destroy it, perhaps only something illegal could make Dumbledore back down.

"Alright! As long as you can guarantee it won't come out from underground." Unexpectedly, Dumbledore, like Ivy, was a wizard who didn't care much about rules and regulations.

Ivy gasped, regretting ever asking for the Philosopher's Stone. But now that he had the Mirror of Eris, how could he possibly let such a treasure slip by?

Ivy has made up her mind to secretly take the Philosopher's Stone away and make Dumbledore look bad in front of Nicolas Lemaître.

Chapter 92 Victor