Morrin raised his head and looked into the mirror’s surface, smooth and still as water.
He asked himself a question.
What do I truly desire?
To return to his previous life?
No.
That world had been unbearably dull.
A fortune worth tens of billions?
He already had one.
Invincible power?
That was merely a means to an end, not the goal itself.
The mirror rippled.
The mist within it dispersed.
Morrin saw himself.
But not the Morrin of the present.
The Morrin in the mirror wore robes as black as night.
In his hand was no longer a wand, but a constantly shifting mass of golden light— a ‘Law’.
Behind him, Hogwarts Castle floated among the clouds, while countless witches and wizards bowed their heads before him.
At his feet, mountains of golden Galleons and Philosopher’s Stones served as nothing more than the foundation beneath his throne.
To his left stood a three headed dog that had been completely analysed and reduced to the obedience of a harmless puppy.
To his right floated countless glowing spheres, Traits he had extracted, mastered, and fused together.
What he saw was— Absolute control**.** Not becoming a god.
But making the entire world operate according to his will.
Well…
that’s certainly an ambition with absolutely no attempt at subtlety.
Morrin laughed at himself inwardly.
“What do you see?” Harry asked curiously.
“Me?” Morrin drew his gaze away from the mirror, his expression returning to its usual calm.
“I see myself buying Gringotts and sacking every one of those irritating goblins.” Harry stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“That does sound like you.” Just then, a calm voice emerged from the darkness.
“That is the mirror’s particular magic, is it not?
It tempts us to lose ourselves in things that do not exist.” Harry jumped so violently that the Invisibility Cloak slipped from his shoulders.
Morrin, however, showed no surprise whatsoever.
He turned towards the white bearded old man in the corner and gave a slight bow.
“Good evening, Professor Dumbledore.” Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows and perched upon one of the desks.
“Good evening, Mr White.
Mr Potter.” He regarded them through his half moon spectacles.
“It seems that, like thousands of students before you, you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t see you, Professor,” Harry stammered.
“One does not need an Invisibility Cloak to become invisible,” Dumbledore said mildly.
Then his gaze shifted to Morrin.
That uncomfortable sensation returned.
It felt as though he were being examined with an X-ray.
“Mr White,” Dumbledore asked softly.
“A moment ago, you said that you saw Gringotts?” Morrin met those piercing blue eyes directly.
He knew that lying to an old fox like Dumbledore required nine parts truth to one part falsehood.
“Not entirely, Professor,” Morrin replied frankly.
“I also saw myself monopolising the entire wizarding world’s potions market, with Professor Snape working for me.” Dumbledore froze.
Then he burst into hearty laughter.
“Ha!
Severus working for you?
That may be the most entertaining desire I have heard in quite some time.” Dumbledore wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye.
“Still, Mr White, ambition can be a fine thing.
But when ambition grows too great, one can sometimes lose one’s way.” “Ambition is only fuel, Professor,” Morrin replied calmly, with a maturity far beyond his eleven years.
“Reason is the steering wheel.
As long as I remain in control, there is no reason I cannot drive faster than everyone else.” Dumbledore’s smile faded.
He studied the Slytherin first-year for a long moment.
He could see the shadow of another boy in Morrin.
Tom Riddle.
Brilliant.
Ambitious.
Supremely confident.
Yet there was something different as well.
Tom had been cold and destructive.
Morrin…
Morrin seemed more like an extraordinarily shrewd builder.
What he appeared to want was order and prosperity, not destruction for its own sake.
“Very good.” Dumbledore nodded.
“This mirror will be moved somewhere else tomorrow.
Harry, I do not want you to go looking for it again.
It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” Then his gaze settled once more on Morrin.
“As for you, Mr White…” Dumbledore rose, his robes shimmering in the moonlight.
“I hear that you have been collecting…
Traits?
Or perhaps I should say you possess a certain talent for observation?” Morrin’s heart gave a violent jolt.
Has that old fox figured it out?
“Everyone has their own way of observing the world, Professor.” Without changing expression, Morrin tightened his grip around his cane.
“I simply happen to be rather good at identifying patterns.” “Of course.
Of course.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled.
“If alchemy interests you, perhaps we might discuss it someday.
Nicolas Flamel is, after all, an old friend of mine.” With that, Dumbledore waved a hand, dismissing them to bed.
Morrin and Harry left the classroom.
By the time they reached the corridor, Morrin’s back was drenched in cold sweat.
That remark about Nicolas Flamel had not been casual.
Dumbledore was testing him.
He might even have guessed that Morrin was interested in the Philosopher’s Stone.
But that doesn’t matter.
Morrin looked out of the window at the moon.
A wild smile slowly spread across his face.
“Since you’ve extended the invitation, Professor…” “Then there’s even less chance I’ll let that Philosopher’s Stone slip through my fingers.” [Remaining Extractions: 65] [Time Until end of year Trial: 5 months] Save enough for a hundred pulls.
Morrin fixed the goal firmly in his mind.
I’m going to show Dumbledore what a real, hostile takeover looks like.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ April.
Spring had arrived late at Hogwarts, but arrive it finally had.
The snow surrounding the castle melted away, the Black Lake rose higher, and the grounds returned to a vivid green.
Inside the library, however, the atmosphere was becoming increasingly frantic.
The Easter holidays had only just ended, and everyone was already worrying about their end of year examinations.
Hermione Granger had entered what could only be described as ‘berserk revision mode’.
She had drawn up a revision timetable for Harry and Ron that accounted for practically every minute of their waking hours.
She even attempted to force a copy upon Morrin.
“No, thank you, Miss Granger.” Morrin sat beside a window with a copy of Principles of Advanced Alchemy in his hands.
Sunlight fell across his dark green robes.
He had shot up noticeably since the beginning of the school year, though his Black Ironwood cane still rested within easy reach beside him.
“Compared with memorising the Werewolf Code of Conduct, I’m considerably more interested in whether the recent goblin strike at Gringotts is going to affect the import price of potion ingredients.” Morrin closed the book and glanced at his system interface.
[Remaining Extractions: 88] [Until 100 Pull Pity Guarantee: 12 attempts] For the past several months, he had hoarded every extraction opportunity like a miser guarding his vault.
Aside from spending a handful of attempts in Snape’s Potions lessons to acquire a few crucial techniques, he had almost perfectly adhered to one principle: Check in.
Don’t pull.
Almost there.
Morrin looked through the window towards Hagrid’s hut.
Once that big fellow hatches, and then the end of year trial arrives, I should have enough chips for one decisive strike.
At that moment, a faint trail of black smoke rose from the direction of Hagrid’s hut.
A moment later, Fang came bounding towards the castle entrance with a scrap of parchment tied around his neck.
Harry took one look at the note.
His expression immediately changed.
He hurried over to Morrin and lowered his voice.
“Hagrid says, it’s about to hatch.” Morrin’s eyes lit up instantly.
A dragon.
One of the most powerful creatures in the wizarding world.
Every part of its body was valuable.
Dragon hide.
Dragon blood.
Dragon heartstring.
Dragon liver…
To an alchemist, a dragon was not really a creature at all.
It was a walking treasure vault.
“Come on.” Morrin rose and seized his cane.
“Let’s go and have a look at our new project.”