It was a circular chamber.
The floor dipped in the center, surrounded by tiered stone steps and dozens of stone columns.
At the very center stood an object—the Mirror of Erised, the same one Dumbledore had moved during Christmas the year before.
The Philosopher's Stone had been hidden inside the mirror by the Headmaster.
Harry stepped up to it.
This time, the mirror didn't reflect his real self. Instead, he saw a version of himself holding the Philosopher's Stone, mixing it into a pale green potion, then happily drinking it in one gulp.
Then it hit him—he had forgotten something crucial. He desired the Stone, which meant he couldn't obtain it.
Dumbledore had cast a binding spell on the mirror: the Stone could only be retrieved by someone who wanted to find it, but not use it.
And who could genuinely meet that condition?
Even Dumbledore himself, for all his self-control, probably couldn't fully resist the Stone's temptation.
He might hold it with a calm expression, but in his heart, there would still be ripples.
Harry stared at the mirror in silence for a long while, then realized there was no way forward.
He had no choice but to leave, feeling both frustrated and helpless.
He had never expected it to end like this.
Back in the previous room, Harry drank the potion that allowed him to pass through the purple fire, exiting Snape's challenge.
Quirrell's troll still lay unconscious on the floor. Harry paid it no mind.
He reset the wizard chessboard to its original state.
Floated past the Devil's Snare, pushed open the floor trapdoor, and found the three-headed dog still snoring away, drooling foul-smelling saliva through its jagged teeth.
Harry tucked away the singing charm toy and exited the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor.
Looking back at all the trials, Harry thought Snape's was the most creative and intellectually challenging—likely where most wizards would fail.
Voldemort had probably gotten through it by secretly brewing a potion that protected against black fire.
But the hardest challenge was undoubtedly Dumbledore's. It didn't test skill or knowledge—it tested character. For someone with evil intentions, they could stare into the mirror for a hundred years and never retrieve the Stone.
For a complete idiot, on the other hand, this challenge might be as simple as pointing to a rock on a table and saying, "Pick that up."
As for Quirrell's troll… Harry could only say he was deeply disappointed.
Not because the troll was weak—
—but because he was stunned that Voldemort had relied on something so brainless.
To use a troll as a magical obstacle? Harry didn't believe that was done without Voldemort's approval.
Clearly, Voldemort had spent so long controlling others that he had come to believe power alone was the answer to everything.
Sure, the Devil's Snare, flying keys, and wizard chess might seem simple—but each had unique challenges. A wizard might breeze through one, but being tested across three different skill sets? That was a different story.
From this one challenge, Harry felt he understood Voldemort's character.
He had begun to feel a little contempt for him.
Because Harry believed that intelligent, thinking humans were far more powerful than brute beasts.
In fact, Quirrell's troll and Hagrid's three-headed dog were practically the same in nature—both were simply tests of magical strength.
That meant, logically: Voldemort's IQ ≈ Hagrid's.
Maybe Voldemort wasn't stupid. But he was arrogant—so far above others that he failed to see what was right in front of him.
To Harry, that made him ultimately unimpressive.
Trying to rule the wizarding world with brute force alone? Utterly unworkable.
Maybe it would've worked in the Middle Ages, but not now. The modern era was one of enlightenment and freedom—even wizards who rejected Muggle society had still been influenced by modern ideas.
Voldemort had no idea how the world had changed during his ten-year absence.
He was calling on allies, planning a return… but to Harry, he was just a summer cicada unaware that autumn had come—and would soon be crushed by the changing season.
This was the tide of history. What could one dark wizard do against it?
Especially considering the Muggles Voldemort so often scorned—their technology was on the rise.
One atomic bomb could teach Voldemort a very quick lesson in humility.
This simply wasn't his era anymore.
These thoughts flashed rapidly through Harry's mind.
…
Back in his dormitory, Harry pondered how he might retrieve the Philosopher's Stone.
The only method he could think of was the one from the original tale: Harry had not wanted the Stone for himself—only to prevent Voldemort from getting it—and thus the mirror had given it to him.
That only worked because he had no intention of using it himself. Otherwise, the magic wouldn't have allowed it.
Only someone pure-hearted and unselfish could obtain the Stone.
Harry frowned. Was this what they meant by having a "childlike heart"?
But he wasn't a child anymore. At best, he had a "humble heart."
Another option was to ask Dumbledore directly how to retrieve it. After all, he was the one who hid it in the first place.
But here, Harry misjudged things.
Because when Dumbledore chose to hide the Stone from Voldemort, he had also ensured that he himself couldn't retrieve it.
As for why he hadn't simply destroyed the Stone—that part was easy to understand.
It was the last one in existence. Dumbledore was holding out hope that, once Voldemort was truly gone, someone might still be able to recover it.
Having failed to find a solution, Harry decided to check on his dragon.
He pulled Hermione, who was studying diligently in the bright, spacious common room.
But the moment he walked in, Harry was startled by how many people were there.
"Why are there so many people?" he asked.
Hermione replied, "You think everyone's like you? This is the only first-year exam we get. If we fail, we have to repeat the whole year."
Harry understood. At their age, this was like a fifth- or sixth-year student exam in the Muggle world—of course they were taking it seriously.
What's more, once exams were done, students would hang around for a bit longer before returning to their families for a long, hot, and relaxing summer holiday.
If their grades were terrible, that summer wouldn't feel like a holiday at all.
And it wasn't just first-years feeling the pressure—students in every year were stressed.
Especially the fifth-years, who were preparing for their O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s, or other career-track exams—tests that would directly impact their future jobs and lives.
Harry spotted his beautiful upper-year friend Penelope Clearwater, surrounded by pamphlets and Ministry of Magic career guides.
Several boys were clustered around her, all chatting her up. Harry even saw Percy Weasley among them.
Sensing Harry's gaze, Penelope looked up and gave him a small smile.
Harry waved back with a grin.
Then he took Hermione and headed off toward Hagrid's hut.
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