At Hogwarts, the rain at night felt damp and empty.
Dense strands of water were illuminated by the castle's lights, resembling falling stars extinguishing as they descended.
Inside the Headmaster's Office, the round-table vote had finally reached its conclusion.
Aside from McGonagall and Sprout, who voted against it, everyone else supported the use of the Brain in a Vat.
Perhaps, as Flitwick had put it when he raised his hand:
"Delaying won't solve anything. If we can't come up with a second plan, then taking a risk is our only option."
And so—
Under everyone's watchful gaze, Flamel unscrewed the lid of the jar and poured the white strands that represented his memories into the solution.
Squish.
The floating brain suddenly reacted.
Its tentacles shot out, wrapped around the drifting memories, and stuffed them into the folds of its surface.
The sight was undeniably bizarre.
At least, Dawn thought so.
After observing for a while, the alchemist sealed the jar once more and looked around at the others.
"Thank you for your efforts. You may all leave now."
Next, I'll perform some modifications on this brain so it can be inserted into the students' thoughts.
And after that, I'll depart for Jerusalem."
He delivered his closing remarks and prepared to end the meeting.
Then—
"Wait."
McGonagall interrupted him. Her finger tapped the tabletop sharply.
"Albus."
"You understand this brain better than anyone. Yet you're planning to leave Hogwarts right after deciding to use it?"
To her, the decision was utterly unreasonable.
Flamel remained calm. "There's no need to worry."
He tapped the jar lightly.
Within the crisp echo, he spoke softly.
"This brain possesses my memories and my thought process. It is no different from the real me."
"Trust me. It can handle things on its own."
McGonagall frowned.
Although the vote had forced her to accept Flamel's plan, she still wanted a safer approach when children were involved.
"Albus... Have you tested this beforehand?"
"I've only conducted experiments on magical creatures." Flamel answered honestly. "I've never tried it on a wizard."
"Then for safety's sake, don't deploy it on a large scale immediately."
McGonagall proposed, "Test it on one student first. If something goes wrong, we'll still have a chance to correct it."
Flamel considered the suggestion.
"Hm. That's reasonable."
Then—
His gaze landed squarely on Dawn.
The other professors followed it. One by one, they all turned to look at him.
Dawn had been lost in thought.
The sudden attention snapped him back to reality.
His eyes twitched.
"...What exactly does that mean?"
"Dawn." Flamel drew a deep breath and suddenly began praising him. "You possess extraordinary talent."
"In an incredibly short time, you accomplished magical creature transfiguration, something that has troubled the wizarding world for countless years."
"You possess truly unbelievable gifts."
His expression was sincere. Filled with genuine emotion.
"So I believe that if it's you, everything will be fine."
Dawn stared at him awkwardly.
At times like this, he genuinely wanted to ask what kind of person Flamel thought he was.
"...I refuse."
Turning his face away, he avoided Flamel's gaze.
No amount of praise would convince him to volunteer as an experimental subject.
But...
A thought suddenly occurred to him.
Was there really much difference? His thoughts already existed inside countless students anyway.
Flamel explained his reasoning.
"In this body, your consciousness holds the dominant position.
I believe that if you assist, the chances of safely eliminating Voldemort will be much higher."
A solid argument. Well-reasoned.
And completely ignored.
"I still refuse."
Dawn pointed toward the floor.
"If you want a test subject, use the students who attacked people in the Great Hall.
Although Voldemort distributed himself among many students, the degree of corruption clearly isn't equal."
He indicated the students still confined to the Hospital Wing.
"The ones he could directly control are obviously the most severely infected. They're much more suitable for treatment."
It was worth mentioning that although the students who had launched the attack had since returned to normal and medical examinations found nothing unusual, they still hadn't been released back into the general student population.
"That makes sense."
To everyone's surprise, Flamel actually nodded.
McGonagall looked as though she wanted to say something but stopped herself.
Boom!
A flash of pale lightning illuminated the windows.
After the thunder faded, the conversation seemed to shatter along with it.
Silence returned.
Only the sound of liquid shifting around the floating brain remained.
"Very well."
Flamel spoke once more.
"Let's leave it at that."
Looking at McGonagall's worried expression, he gave her a reassuring nod.
Don't worry.
That was the message.
The professors exchanged glances.
After giving Dawn a few final looks, they rose from their seats and left one after another.
Only Dawn remained where he was. There were still things he wanted to ask Nicolas Flamel.
Unfortunately—
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, footsteps sounded outside the office.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Dawn turned around in surprise.
Snape had returned.
Leaning against the doorframe, he stared at Flamel with dark, suspicious eyes.
After a long silence, he asked coldly:
"Who exactly are you?"
Flamel blinked. "Severus, why would you ask that?"
"Dumbledore would never allow Richter to participate in a meeting like this. Nor would he openly tell him everything he intended to do."
Snape's explanation was blunt.
He made no effort whatsoever to avoid saying it in front of Dawn.
Dawn raised an eyebrow and stroked his chin.
Actually...
That was a very fair point.
Thinking back on Dumbledore's usual attitude toward him, he realized Snape was right.
Flamel treated him far more openly than the real Headmaster ever would.
The alchemist glanced helplessly toward Dawn before turning back to Snape.
"I'm Nicolas Flamel."
He hadn't deliberately concealed his identity.
Nobody had noticed before, and introducing himself had simply seemed unnecessary.
Thus he'd continued wearing Dumbledore's face until now.
"Nicolas Flamel?"
Snape frowned.
He carefully studied the eyes behind the spectacles and concluded the man wasn't lying.
After determining he wasn't a threat, Snape immediately lost interest.
He couldn't even be bothered to ask where Dumbledore had gone. With a nod, he turned and left.
Flamel's death had been kept quiet.
The news had never spread.
Snape knew nothing about it and therefore found nothing strange about his presence.
Bang.
The office door shut.
Now only two people remained.
Dawn rubbed his chin.
Since Flamel wasn't speaking, he decided to start. "By the way, Mr. Flamel. Do you have enough Brain in a Vat specimens?"
His concern wasn't the plan itself. He was worried his future treasures might get consumed all at once.
"Oh, that's not an issue." Flamel patted the lid of the jar. "This single brain is more than enough."
Then the two stared at each other in silence.
Eventually, Flamel surrendered first.
Rubbing his temples, he sighed. "All right, Dawn. If you have something to say, just say it."
He glanced at the clock against the wall. "I truly have quite a lot to do."
"Then I'll be direct."
Dawn shrugged.
"You clearly studied Brain in a Vat research before. Do you still remember the complete research logs?"
"The research logs?" Flamel stroked his beard and glanced at the brain floating inside the jar. "What? Are you interested in these things too?"
"Of course."
Dawn nodded.
"It's a life-form that allows wizards to evade death. And it possesses such fascinating abilities."
"I see..."
Flamel murmured.
Then he spread his hands. "In that case, you'll have to research it yourself."
"I've lived too long. Unimportant memories like research notes were discarded long ago."
Dawn narrowed his eyes.
Then suddenly laughed.
"What is it?" Flamel asked curiously. "Is something wrong with me?"
"No."
Dawn shook his head.
"I just realized that if Dumbledore heard what you just said, he'd probably march into the Department of Mysteries tonight and destroy every brain in existence."
Flamel froze.
Then he laughed as well.
"I see."
"So that's the sort of image you have of Albus."
Yet beneath the smile lay more complicated emotions.
Dawn's comment reminded him once again how guilty he felt toward his old friend.
On one hand, he felt he shouldn't be telling Dawn these things and creating future trouble for Dumbledore.
On the other hand—
Children should be curious.
Could dangerous knowledge really be hidden forever simply because previous generations considered it risky?
Caught between those conflicting thoughts, Flamel's laughter quickly faded.
The office returned to silence.
Gurgle.
Perhaps attracted by the sound of laughter, the brain tapped the glass with a tentacle before pulling another bundle of memories into its folds.
Dawn's smile disappeared as well.
Watching the man hidden beneath Dumbledore's appearance, he remembered their previous conversations.
After some hesitation, he asked another question.
"Mr. Flamel."
"When you say memories determine thought... Do you truly believe that?"
"Why do you ask?"
Flamel looked at him quietly.
Dawn folded his hands on the table. He didn't answer immediately.
When he had first heard about the Brain in a Vat, the statement had sounded incredibly convincing.
It had even left him feeling depressed.
But after calming down, he realized things weren't nearly so simple.
For example—
"Ghosts and portraits."
Dawn lifted his head.
"They both possess the memories of the people they represent. And yet neither produces genuine thought."
"That means memories determining thought is probably just a special property of the Brain in a Vat."
He watched Flamel carefully.
He wanted to hear more of the alchemist's views on consciousness itself.
Unfortunately—
Flamel once again wore that infuriating smile.
"Questions are a good thing, Dawn."
After a long pause, that was all he said.
"Wizards improve because they encounter questions. And the process of searching for answers is itself the process of becoming stronger."
Fine.
Dawn clicked his tongue. He understood the implication.
He was already accustomed to Flamel's style.
Find the answer yourself.
Very well.
He would.
He certainly didn't think himself inferior to the old alchemist.
Glancing once more at the brain still absorbing memories, he changed the subject.
"Mr. Flamel. What about the students who already left Hogwarts? Will your method work on them?"
"Hm..."
Flamel thought for a moment. Then he said something utterly shocking.
"Dawn."
"Could I ask you to secretly bring them all back?"
Dawn froze.
He blinked.
Surely he had misheard.
"...Are you asking me to kidnap children?"
"Exactly."
Flamel smiled and nodded.
Dawn's face twitched. "Why don't you do it yourself? Whether it's your reputation or Dumbledore's, bringing them back should be easy."
"Easy?"
Flamel shook his head.
"I already tried convincing them this afternoon. You saw how well that worked."
He paused.
"If I kept trying, I might eventually succeed. But we don't have that kind of time."
He nodded firmly. "So secretly bringing them back is clearly the most efficient solution."
Ignoring Dawn's increasingly horrified expression, he continued.
"Besides, Voldemort is bound to make moves. We probably won't be able to recover every student."
"But that's fine. Do your best."
At that point Dawn finally lost patience.
Bang. Bang.
He deliberately tapped the table to interrupt.
"I'm not doing it." He rolled his eyes. "Take this up with the professors."
"I know their personalities."
Flamel answered earnestly.
"They're unlikely to agree to something like this.
And even if they did... If they were discovered, the consequences would be severe.
Besides, they might not be able to handle Voldemort."
That statement almost made Dawn laugh.
He pointed at Flamel.
Then at himself.
"So if I get caught, that's somehow fine? Don't forget. I'm currently using Fred's body."
In response, Flamel simply said, "Child... I believe in you. You're strong. You have more than enough ability."
"...Thank you for the compliment."
Dawn replied flatly.
"But I still refuse."
Although he liked Flamel to some extent, that didn't mean he was willing to take on such a thankless task.
"Don't reject it so quickly." Flamel soothed him. "Do I look like the sort of person who'd make you work for free?"
"I'll pay you."
"...Pay me?" Dawn's eyebrows rose immediately.
Now he was interested.
The old alchemist smiled.
"I'll devote my full effort to helping you use the Castle Consciousness. And together we'll uncover the true history you're searching for."
"What do you think?"
___________
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