Bernadette raised an eyebrow. "Is that for Grindelwald?"
"Oh?"
Dumbledore looked mildly surprised. "Did that child Patricia tell you?"
Bernadette gave a noncommittal response. What she knew had actually come from Vincent during one of their exchanges — just as she'd earlier suspected, he seemed to have a remarkably detailed understanding of this world, including knowledge of things that should have been hidden. The most obvious example being the locations of Voldemort's Horcruxes.
His explanation, when she'd pressed, was that he'd picked up fragmented glimpses of past, present, and future while practising a certain ancient magic. He suspected he might be a natural seer, like Grindelwald.
Bernadette hadn't fully believed that explanation. She was quite certain Vincent hadn't told her the truth — but she couldn't work out what he was actually hiding.
Perhaps the other version of herself, who shared a body with him and could sense his emotional shifts, had noticed something. If the two of them could ever compare notes, they'd probably piece together a fairly complete picture. A pity that was impossible.
Dumbledore smiled gently. "That's right — these are for Gellert."
He didn't elaborate, and moved on. "Charles — I asked you up today because I wanted to discuss something. After some consideration, Professor Quirrell is most likely not coming back."
"That leaves the Defence Against the Dark Arts position vacant. Severus is very willing to cover the class, but he already has Potions to manage, and taking on Defence Against the Dark Arts would leave him with almost no time to breathe."
He lowered his voice slightly. "So I'd like to ask whether you'd be willing to step in and cover the class — just until I find a new professor."
Before Bernadette could respond, he added: "As for your Muggle Studies classes — those can go back to Charity. She's been studying your course materials this whole time and should be able to continue your style without much difficulty."
Once he finished, Bernadette said, flatly: "I get the impression, Professor, that the Defence Against the Dark Arts cover is the excuse, and removing me from Muggle Studies is the actual point."
"..."
Dumbledore paused, then gave a rueful smile. "That's not quite right. Although your classes… have gone somewhat beyond the scope of our original agreement, it's not so egregious that I can't look past it. And the effect on the first-years' perception of Muggles has been genuinely positive — that's a good thing."
Bernadette waited for him to finish, then said: "Professor, there's actually something I wanted to raise with you today as well."
"Oh?"
"I intend to join the Ministry of Magic."
"???"
Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "I'm sorry — you said you want to join the Ministry of Magic. You mean to work there?"
"That's right."
"Why… so suddenly?"
Bernadette said evenly: "There are particular reasons."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Well — joining the Ministry may not be as straightforward as you're imagining. You and Fudge parted on rather poor terms last time."
"Lucius Malfoy will support me fully."
"Oh?"
A small light moved through the old man's eyes. He considered this carefully. "Lucius, is it? When did your relationship with him become so…" He paused. "…so close?"
Bernadette looked directly into Dumbledore's eyes. "After he helped me deal with Voldemort."
"???"
Dumbledore's blue eyes contracted to a point. He sat bolt upright. "What did you say?"
"Quirrell was Voldemort. Professor, you already knew that, didn't you?"
"..."
"So that's how it was."
Several seconds of silence, and then a murmur: "Did Quirrell… die?"
"Yes. Though Voldemort himself didn't — to be precise, he can't die. He made Horcruxes in advance."
"Horcruxes."
A look of dawning clarity crossed Dumbledore's face. He raised one hand; a book flew from his desk to his palm — black cover, the title Secrets of Darkest Art.
"For years I've harboured doubts about whether Voldemort truly died. Quirrell's arrival confirmed those suspicions — but it raised a new question: how exactly had Voldemort managed to survive? So I let him enter Hogwarts, hoping to uncover the truth."
He shook his head slightly. "And then he simply vanished. I thought he'd realised my intention and fled."
"I see."
Bernadette narrowed her eyes. "So — the Philosopher's Stone was bait for Voldemort all along?"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "You know about the Stone as well?"
"I extracted the information from Voldemort."
"Extracted from Voldemort." He seemed to savour the phrase. "That's a rather unusual combination of words."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"I've also found most of the Horcruxes he made."
"..."
Dumbledore opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Bernadette changed tack: "Professor — since the Philosopher's Stone is no longer of any use for its original purpose, could I borrow it for a while? I'd like to study it."
Vincent had specifically told her the Stone might help with the soul damage his particular magic had caused.
"...Yes."
Dumbledore thought for a moment, then nodded. A short pause. "I was simply going to ask you to cover a class, and you've handed me this much of a 'surprise' all at once. Even someone who's lived through what I have needs a moment to recover."
He leaned forward slightly. "Charles."
He removed his half-moon spectacles and said softly: "You faced Quirrell — Voldemort — directly, and defeated him?"
To be continued…
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