"Jerusalem..."
Flamel murmured the name to himself.
"It is, after all, the center of the Muggle world's religious faith. If a ritual is being performed there..."
A possibility had already formed in his mind.
Flamel was a man of action.
After glancing around the table at the other five participants, he spoke decisively.
"Leave it to me. Once this meeting is over, I'll head there myself."
The plan was simple.
Flamel could spend several days watching the location if necessary.
The four Heads of House, burdened with teaching duties, obviously could not.
As for Hogwarts' safety—
Voldemort's recent actions suggested that his focus had shifted outside the castle. Remaining at Hogwarts might accomplish very little.
Besides, Fawkes existed.
With the phoenix, traveling back and forth would take only an instant.
Flamel quickly weighed the options and reached his decision.
He exchanged looks with the four professors. Without speaking, they entrusted the castle to one another.
Then—
The office fell silent again.
The alchemist looked around the table.
After waiting several minutes and confirming that no one else—including Dawn—had anything further to add, he finally moved on to the meeting's true purpose.
From somewhere, he produced a transparent glass container and placed it on the table.
The jar was filled with liquid.
Inside floated something resembling a human brain, drifting lazily through the solution.
The Brain in a Vat from the Department of Mysteries?
Dawn immediately recognized it.
If Flamel had brought it to a meeting like this, then it almost certainly had something to do with solving the Voldemort problem.
But... How?
Dawn frowned.
His knowledge of the thing was limited.
Staring at the ugly floating brain, he searched his memory and finally recalled a scene from the original story.
During Harry's fifth year, in the battle within the Department of Mysteries, one of these brains had expelled "thought matter," transforming it into tentacles that wrapped around Ron.
Afterward, Madam Pomfrey had remarked that Ron's injuries were the most severe because thoughts left deeper scars than almost anything else.
A valuable treasure.
Dawn immediately reached that conclusion.
Previously, he hadn't fully appreciated the importance of thought itself.
Now he made another mental note.
Once his consciousness returned to his body and he escaped from beyond the Veil of Death, he would thoroughly clean out the Department of Mysteries.
The four professors also turned their attention toward the brain.
As powerful and influential witches and wizards, they were all at least somewhat familiar with the Department of Mysteries.
None of them needed to ask what it was.
Only Dawn raised his hand curiously.
"Question."
"Do these brains count as magical creatures?"
"Perhaps."
Flamel's answer was vague.
"They possess souls and can be killed by the Killing Curse, so they qualify as living things.
But they lack reproductive capability, and their biological responses are extremely weak.
They don't quite qualify as true organisms."
I see.
Dawn nodded thoughtfully.
"Albus." Professor Flitwick spoke up. "Are you planning to use these brains to solve Voldemort's problem?"
His expression showed obvious hesitation.
He clearly wasn't optimistic about this approach.
"How exactly do you intend to do that?"
Flamel didn't answer immediately.
He spent a few moments organizing his thoughts while watching the brain drift through its jar.
Only then did he begin.
"My original idea was to use these brains to extract Voldemort-related thoughts from the students and convert them into physical matter.
But in the end, I realized the method wasn't reliable.
The Brain in a Vat possesses no consciousness. It cannot accurately distinguish Voldemort's thoughts from anything else.
So I chose a different approach."
The alchemist folded his hands together.
What he had just described was actually Dumbledore's last-resort plan.
Before drinking Felix Felicis, Dumbledore had explained the idea to Flamel as a precaution.
However—
Flamel believed he had found something better.
After all, as a master alchemist specializing in transformation and transmutation, there was no way he had ignored a magical artifact capable of converting thoughts into matter.
Rain hammered against the windows.
The steady noise filled the room as Flamel continued.
"No one knows who created these brains. But after studying them, I discovered that they resemble empty containers.
They can absorb memories placed inside them."
Hm?
Both Dawn and the professors looked surprised.
Professor Sprout frowned in confusion. "But Albus... what good does that do?"
"What good?" Flamel smiled. "Haven't both Muggles and wizards said this countless times?"
"Personality is shaped by memory. Different memories create different ways of thinking."
As he spoke, he removed several small bottles from his robes.
Inside each bottle floated dense white strands resembling liquid mist.
"These are my memories. Copied through magic. Everything from childhood onward."
Flamel gestured toward the brain floating in the jar.
"If I pour them into the solution, the Brain in a Vat will absorb every memory.
Afterward, it will become a life-form whose thought process closely resembles my own.
Or perhaps one completely identical to it."
Everyone at the table was startled.
There were no fools present. After a moment's thought, each of them grasped at least part of the implications.
Yet strangely—Dawn was more interested in something else.
Memory determines thought.
Was that really true? Instinctively, he wanted to reject the idea.
It reminded him of a conversation he'd once had with Dumbledore regarding World Correction.
"If, in reality, you were completely different from the person you are now—cheerful, outgoing, warm-hearted—would that make you happy?"
Dawn narrowed his eyes.
If memory determined thought... Then what did false memories create? A false self?
He pressed his lips together.
At the same time, another detail surfaced in his memory.
Ron had recovered from his thought-related injuries through a surprisingly unusual treatment.
Forgetting.
Once the damaged memories were forgotten, the wounds gradually healed.
Perhaps that was itself evidence supporting the idea that memory shaped thought.
The possibility left Dawn feeling increasingly conflicted.
Meanwhile, the discussion continued.
Flitwick had become deeply interested. "Albus, are you describing thought transfer?"
"No."
Flamel tapped the glass jar with a finger.
The brain inside immediately stretched several tentacles toward the impact point.
"A more accurate term would be thought duplication."
Thought duplication.
Dawn set aside his gloomy reflections and returned his attention to the meeting.
His knowledge of Brain-in-a-Vat research was limited.
Still, he would bet his head on one thing.
Any magical artifact with such abilities had almost certainly originated from some wizard's attempt to achieve immortality.
Thinking about it that way...
Immortality really was an extraordinarily motivating concept.
Across history, wizards had created countless bizarre inventions while pursuing it.
The thought reminded Dawn of his own first year.
Of standing before the Mirror of Erised and beginning his own journey toward immortality.
Suddenly, he became curious.
If he stood before the mirror now—after already achieving his goal—what would he see?
After indulging the thought briefly, he shook his head.
Listening to Flitwick and Flamel continue discussing brains and thought, he suddenly interrupted.
"Headmaster Dumbledore.
If someone surgically—or magically—replaced a student's brain with one of these... Could it control the body?"
Hm?
Flamel blinked.
"Why do you ask that, child?"
"Because I think I've figured out your plan." Dawn rubbed his chin.
Then he explained his reasoning.
"Transfer all of a student's memories into a Brain in a Vat. Create a mind identical to the student's.
Then kill the student without hesitation.
That would eliminate both Voldemort's soul fragments and his associated thoughts.
Afterward, transplant the Brain in a Vat into the body.
Let it control the flesh.
In that case, you'd essentially create a brand-new student with the same memories and nearly identical thought patterns."
As he spoke, Dawn even shot Flamel an approving look.
Well played.
Instead of admiration, however, he was met with stunned silence.
Everyone stared at him.
Speechless.
Bang!
McGonagall slammed both hands onto the table and shot to her feet. Her furious roar drowned out even the thunder outside.
"Albus! I absolutely refuse to support something like that!"
"Now, now, Minerva, calm down." Flamel rubbed his temples. "I never said I was going to do that."
He glared at Dawn.
"And besides, a Brain in a Vat cannot control a body. It simply isn't capable of what Dawn described."
Oh?
It can't?
Dawn raised an eyebrow.
Then again, that made sense. If the process were really that simple, it would qualify as a form of immortality.
Plenty of people would have used it already.
The Department of Mysteries certainly wouldn't still possess so many brains.
Of course, if the price of duplicating one's thoughts was becoming a mute brain trapped forever in a jar, endlessly swimming through liquid—that was a very different matter.
Dawn looked back at the floating brain.
For a moment, he wondered whether his Trait Patterns could somehow compensate for the artifact's shortcomings.
Unfortunately, he couldn't even see those beautiful patterns right now. The thought only made him miss his original body even more.
When exactly would he be able to return?
Dawn sighed.
Flamel's earlier words— "The Resurrection Stone will reappear"—surfaced in his mind again.
His thoughts naturally drifted toward the mind-link phenomenon.
It suddenly occurred to him that the lack of any recent mind-links might itself be evidence that the Resurrection Stone had already begun re-forming.
Meanwhile, McGonagall remained unconvinced.
"So what exactly do you intend to do with the Brain in a Vat?"
Flamel surveyed the room.
Four worried faces.
One distracted one.
After a brief hesitation, he finally revealed his plan.
"I will first allow the Brain in a Vat to absorb my memories and duplicate my thought process.
Then I will send it into the students' minds.
Using my own duplicated thoughts to direct the brain's ability to harm thought itself...
I will eliminate Voldemort directly on the level of consciousness."
At last, the alchemist laid his cards on the table.
Unfortunately, judging by the professors' expressions, they found the proposal only slightly more acceptable than Dawn's suggestion.
After exchanging glances, McGonagall frowned. "Albus. Don't you think this is a little too extreme?"
She looked at the hideous floating brain. Stuffing such a thing into a child's mind hardly seemed wise.
"Perhaps." Flamel nodded quietly. "But I don't think we have much time left."
His eyes were unwavering.
The situation could no longer wait for Dumbledore to awaken and return with a solution.
After centuries of life, Nicolas Flamel was not lacking in decisiveness.
He could see perfectly well that Voldemort had deliberately moved beyond the castle.
So he intended to act before Voldemort caused even greater chaos... Even if some harm came to the students.
When faced with two evils, one had to choose the lesser.
Flamel's instincts told him that allowing Voldemort free rein would lead to a far worse outcome.
Dawn listened quietly. His expression became increasingly strange.
He's still adding more.
He's actually still adding more.
Even Dawn felt his teeth ache at the thought.
Dumbledore's solution had been subtraction. Flamel's was the exact opposite.
Faced with an already impossibly complicated situation, he wanted to make it even more complicated.
Was that really a good idea?
Even Dawn found himself worried for the students of Hogwarts.
By the end of the school year... Would they all turn into indescribable hybrids of overlapping consciousnesses?
The mental image was horrifying.
He clicked his tongue.
At that moment, Snape asked the most important question of all.
"Dumbledore. How exactly do you intend to put the brain into a student's mind?"
"No need to worry about that." Flamel offered no direct explanation. "I have my methods."
He looked around the now-silent office.
"Any other questions?"
After a moment, Dawn raised his hand.
"One more.
How do you know the brain truly develops thought patterns similar to yours after absorbing your memories?
After all, it's just a brain that can't speak."
"Oh, that." Flamel gave him a strange look. "It writes on the inside of the glass using its tentacles."
Dawn blinked.
Well.
That was unexpectedly straightforward.
He sat back and said nothing further.
McGonagall, however, remained unconvinced. After a long silence, she stood.
"Albus. To be honest, I'm still not comfortable with this."
She straightened her robes.
"Let's vote. In a situation like this, we should decide whether to proceed by majority rule."
Flamel frowned slightly.
He looked as though he wanted to object. Ultimately, however, he said nothing.
Dawn merely raised an eyebrow.
To be honest, he didn't want Flamel to proceed. After all, Voldemort's thoughts weren't the only ones residing inside students.
His own thoughts were there too.
Still, Dawn understood that his opinion carried little weight.
McGonagall hadn't even counted him among the voters.
Lowering his head, he began considering what effect this plan might have on him personally.
Several moments passed.
Then Snape became the first to raise his hand.
His hoarse voice shattered the silence.
"I approve."
As Flamel and the four professors argued over whether to take such a dangerous gamble—
Far away, within the dream world—
Dumbledore stood among the laughter and running children of an amusement park.
A smile rested on his face.
For the first time in a long while, he was enjoying a moment of genuine peace.
___________
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