Ultimately, it was Albus Dumbledore who recovered his senses first.
He didn’t immediately reach for the Philosopher’s Stone.
Instead, he gently tapped the desk with his fingertips, looking deeply at Stelle, his tone carrying a forced calm.
“Miss Stelle, could you explain in detail?
Regarding your walking route last night, and how you got past those security measures?” He placed a particular emphasis on the words “got past.” Severus Snape let out a derisive snort, but his dark eyes were also locked onto Stelle, clearly just as eager to hear this bizarre explanation.
Stelle looked at Dumbledore, then at Snape’s grim expression.
She didn’t seem to understand what there was to explain, but she nodded anyway and began to describe the events in her signature style.
“First, there was the big dog with three heads,” Stelle recalled.
“It was snoring really loudly.
I used some butter from the kitchen and some Kneazle fur to make a small ball, added some special sleeping pills to it, and it seemed to really like it.
It fell fast asleep after eating it.” She spoke with as much nonchalance as if she were sharing tips on feeding stray cats.
Snape’s lip twitched.
“Then there was the moving Devil’s Snare,” Stelle continued.
“They wrap around you.
Hermione said I should relax, but I couldn’t.” She admitted candidly, before shifting gears: “So I used one of those things that scream and spit fire that Fred and George gave me, and threw one over.
They seemed really scared of the noise and shrank back immediately.” She mimed a throwing motion, a smile she considered well-behaved appearing on her face.
Dumbledore’s eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly.
The Weasley twins’ fireworks to deal with Devil’s Snare?
“Next was a lot of flying keys.” Stelle’s golden eyes held a look that suggested it was all very simple.
“They were flying in a tight pack, but there was some space on the side.
I figured if I dashed through fast enough, they wouldn’t have time to stop me.
So I dashed.
Yep, it worked.” Brute force.
Snape closed his eyes, seemingly straining to suppress his temper.
“And then there was a giant chessboard.
The pieces were really tall.” Stelle’s expression grew a bit more serious.
“I wanted to climb across the ceiling at first, but they didn’t seem to want to let me past.
The rules seemed to be about playing chess, but it was too complicated, and I don’t know how.” She was remarkably frank.
“Then I saw a dark knight turn its head to look at me, and I felt like it wanted to hit me.
So I set fire to the spot where it was standing.
It lost its balance and shattered.
After that, the other pieces stopped moving.” “You…
climbed across…” Snape finally couldn’t help but squeeze the words through his teeth, only to be stopped by a slight hand gesture from Dumbledore.
The Headmaster’s face wore a highly complex expression, resembling a pie chart of conflicted emotions.
“After that was a room with a bunch of bottles and a piece of paper covered in writing.” Stelle wrinkled her nose, seemingly dissatisfied with that particular experience.
“Too many words, couldn’t understand them.
So I opened the bottles and sniffed them.
Some smelled really weird, like spoiled food.
Eventually, I found a blue one that smelled cool.
I didn’t drink it; I just dripped a little bit onto the black fire, and the fire parted a tiny bit, so I slipped through.” Solving a logic puzzle by smell?!
Snape’s expression could no longer be described as merely dark; it was practically the blank bewilderment of a man whose entire belief system had collapsed.
“Finally, there was that smelly troll.” Stelle seemed to think this example would make it easier for them to understand.
“It charged at me, so I pried up a stone slab on the floor, and it tripped over itself.
Just like you said, using its own weight.” A long silence fell over the office.
In his portrait on the wall, Phineas Nigellus Black even forgot to pretend to sleep, his mouth hanging agape as he stared at the gray-haired girl.
Dumbledore slowly leaned back in his chair.
He looked at Stelle as if witnessing a law of the universe he had never truly understood before.
“So,” Dumbledore summarized, his voice tinged with a peculiar flavor, “you pacified the three-headed dog with a custom treat, drove back the Devil’s Snare with prank fireworks, broke through the key swarm with sheer speed, checkmated the chessboard by destroying the tiles beneath the pieces, bypassed the potion puzzle using smell and intuition, and finally tripped the troll using a Levitation Charm as a tripwire.” Stelle nodded and added, “And I got this shiny stone from behind the mirror.” She pointed to the Philosopher’s Stone still held in her hand.
Snape inhaled sharply.
Seemingly unable to endure this absurd reality any longer, he whipped his black robes around and turned to face Dumbledore, his voice raspy.
“Albus!
This…
this is a complete desecration of magic!
It is mindless, chaotic brute force!” “Is it, Severus?” A completely different light flickered in Dumbledore’s blue eyes—the kind of light that shone when discovering a rare treasure.
“On the contrary, I believe this is a way of problem-solving that transcends established frameworks.” “Though…” He paused, searching for the right words.
“Though the process was filled with quite breathtaking unpredictability.” He looked back at Stelle, his gaze gentle yet profound.
“Miss Stelle, I must thank you for retrieving this stone.
It is indeed very, very important.
Now, would you mind handing it over to me for safekeeping?” “Oh, sure.” Stelle handed the Philosopher’s Stone over to Dumbledore’s outstretched hand without the slightest hint of reluctance, as if she were simply returning a borrowed quill.
Dumbledore took the treasure, coveted by countless people, and put it safely away.
Then he looked at Stelle, his tone turning a bit more serious.
“However, Miss Stelle, I must emphasize that out-of-bounds wandering at night—especially breaking into strictly forbidden areas—is a serious violation of school rules.
Even if your methods were remarkably effective.” Stelle nodded, showing she understood.
“Therefore, fifty points will be deducted from Hufflepuff,” Dumbledore announced.
Then, under Snape’s slightly satisfied gaze, he pivoted with a smile, “But at the same time, in recognition of your contribution in retrieving the lost item, as well as the unique spirit of exploration and individual capability you demonstrated throughout, Hufflepuff shall be awarded fifty points.” Snape’s expression froze instantly.
Stelle didn’t seem to care much about House points.
She just looked at Dumbledore and suddenly asked, “Professor, do you still want that smiley-face token?” She was referring to the Elation Token.
Dumbledore looked at her and slowly shook his head.
“No, that was your harvest.
It rightfully belongs to you.” Stelle nodded, slipped both tokens back into her pocket, and stood up.
“If there’s nothing else, Professor, can I go back now?
I want to visit the kitchen.” Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
Watching Stelle’s departing back as she left the office, Snape finally erupted.
“Albus!
You are just letting her leave like that?
Her absurd claims, those bizarre methods, and that stone…” “Severus,” Dumbledore interrupted, his gaze still resting on the doorway as if he could still see the gray-haired girl’s figure.
“Sometimes, the most powerful magic does not come from spellbooks, but from a heart completely unbound.
And our Miss Stelle…” He paused, a hint of a singular premonition in his voice.
“She is perhaps closer to a certain essence of magic than any of us could imagine.
A chaotic, amusing essence, brimming with infinite possibilities.” He picked up a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth.
The sweetness spread through his mouth, but it was far from matching the shock and aftertaste left by the trial debriefing he had just heard.