~ Thorne had no idea that someone had already started watching him from the shadows.
Right now, he was simply in a hurry.
In his moment of urgency earlier, he had used one of the three white spells — Desolate Dive.
A spell he had “taken” from the lord of the Soul Sanctuary… or rather, learned from him.
A spell for diving down from a height to attack enemies.
What made it special was that during its use, it granted a brief period of invincibility.
It was an extremely useful piece of magic.
He had only been trying to move faster.
He hadn’t expected the power to be so ridiculous that it would punch a hole straight through the castle floor.
As he walked quickly, Thorne was already planning in his head: He would talk to Madam Pomfrey about the new project first.
Later he could use the Transfiguration he had just learned to fix the floor.
As long as it didn’t look obvious, it wouldn’t count as an accident.
Before long, he arrived at the Hospital Wing.
He had barely raised his hand to push the door open when it was pulled open from the inside first.
Standing there was Dumbledore.
The old bee held a chocolate bar in his hand.
When he saw Thorne, he clearly paused for a moment, then smiled and spoke: “Oh?
Eric, did you eat one of Hagrid’s rock cakes again?” Thorne’s mouth twitched.
“No, Headmaster.
I gave those up a long time ago.” He hesitated.
“What about you…?” “Oh, I came to get my teeth checked.” Dumbledore answered lightly.
As he spoke, he took a bite of the chocolate bar right in front of Thorne, his face showing pure satisfaction.
Thorne: “…” With magic backing him up, was this what it was like to be old and carefree?
But Thorne quickly realized this was a good opportunity.
He simply stood there and laid out everything — his plan to research the application of soul in healing magic together with Madam Pomfrey, and his idea to conduct dream-related research with Professor Quirrell.
He even mentioned the research concepts regarding “soul extraction and injection.” After listening, Dumbledore didn’t respond immediately.
He narrowed his eyes, stuffed the rest of the chocolate bar into his mouth in one go, then pulled a handful of what looked like cockroach-shaped candies from his pocket.
As for how many sweets this old headmaster actually kept in his pockets… Only Merlin probably knew.
Dumbledore slowly ate one “cockroach pile,” then gently shook his head.
He raised a hand and casually waved it.
Thorne felt the air around him tremble slightly, as if they were now enclosed in a transparent barrier.
The next moment, Dumbledore spoke with a smile: “Eric… do you really want to go eat prison food?” His gaze clearly said, “I already know everything.” Thorne froze for a second, then his eyes began to wander.
“H-Headmaster… I didn’t do it on purpose.” He gave a dry cough.
“How about… I pay for the floor repair out of my salary?” Dumbledore was genuinely stunned this time.
…An unexpected bonus?
But a moment later, he still nodded.
“Alright.
We’ll do it your way.” Thorne had barely let out a breath of relief when Dumbledore’s tone shifted.
“However… there’s still one small problem.” Thorne’s heart tightened.
“Another one?
What problem?” The old bee popped another cockroach pile into his mouth, tone light.
“Nothing major.” “It’s simply that you conspired with a suspected terrorist leader in an attempt to defraud teaching funds for research on an anti-human project.” He still smiled kindly.
“At most, it would just mean letting a Dementor give you a little kiss.” “No big deal~ No big deal~” — Ten minutes later.
Thorne sat in the small office inside the Hospital Wing with an expression of disbelief.
Across from him, the old bee Dumbledore was already speaking while finishing off the last of his cockroach piles.
Now he was slowly pulling out a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.
Their conversation was tightly sealed by a Silencing Charm.
Madam Pomfrey had cleared the space for this private meeting.
Dumbledore picked out a honey-flavored bean, popped it into his mouth, chewed, and nodded slightly before looking at Thorne.
“Shocking, isn’t it?
That someone could be so evil… even in a state of only a remnant soul, they still want to parasitize someone else and continue doing harm.” Thorne stared at him.
“No.” He spoke slowly.
“Actually, I’ve seen worse.
There was this bug who felt like he’d been forgotten, so he made orange juice come out of every other bug’s body.” Then he suddenly raised his voice: “What I can’t believe is you — Dumbledore!” Thorne almost slammed his hand on the table as he stood up.
“How could you let someone like that into Hogwarts?!
Don’t you know how many students are here?!” As he spoke, he reached out and snatched the bag of Every Flavor Beans from Dumbledore’s hand.
“And you’re still eating?!” Thorne glared at the bag, voice full of indignation.
“Look, I don’t exactly treat students like people either, but that’s because I have a mental illness!” He looked up and stared at Dumbledore.
“What about you?
Old bee — did I infect you?!” Dumbledore’s compound-eye-like gaze rested on Thorne.
The light in them seemed to shift slightly, as if he was genuinely surprised.
“Oh…” His tone was leisurely.
“Eric, your sharp words remind me of Severus.” Thorne snorted and turned his face away.
“Well, we are both mammals, after all.” Dumbledore glanced at the bag of beans Thorne had taken, hesitated for a moment, then reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a toffee.
The action left Thorne speechless.
No wonder Madam Pomfrey kept tooth-strengthening potion on hand year-round.
Dumbledore put the candy in his mouth and savored it for a moment before speaking again.
“As for the students’ safety, you can rest assured.
I’ve been keeping an eye on things the whole time.” Thorne actually believed that.
After all, Dumbledore had clearly known about the whole “mutual stabbing” incident between him and Snape from beginning to end.
“As for the reason…” Dumbledore paused.
“It’s because of a prophecy.” “About Harry.” “In the future, Voldemort — the dark wizard currently possessing Quirrell — will have a final confrontation with him.
Only one of the two will survive.” “In order for that dark lord to eventually meet his fated death, I need to pave the way for Harry’s future.” At this point, he suddenly stopped and turned to look at Thorne.
The air was quiet for a moment.
Thorne raised an eyebrow, looking confused.
“Keep going.” Dumbledore seemed surprised.
“You… can accept this?” “Of course.” “You… don’t find it strange?” Thorne shook his head.
“Well, it’s a prophecy.
It’s something vague and uncertain.” He shrugged.
“Sorry, I was once the savior of another world too.
So this kind of thing doesn’t really faze me.” Thorne looked Dumbledore straight in the eye.
“But if you want to fulfill this prophecy, then you need to tell me what you need me to do so I can cooperate.” Dumbledore looked at him with appreciation and nodded slightly.
“Good.” “Then what I want is…” “You should continue your research with Quirrell — the kind of research you’re both interested in.” Thorne raised an eyebrow, somewhat pleasantly surprised.
“So you’ll approve our project?
And give us plenty of funding?” “Of course not.
Why would I fund such an anti-human project?” Thorne’s expression instantly turned into dead-fish eyes.
“But you will still conduct this kind of research with him.” Dumbledore added calmly.
“You just need to keep him somewhat restrained.
The most important thing is to keep his attention occupied elsewhere.” “And—” He took out the small spherical objects in their mask-like state that Thorne had given him earlier.
“Make some more of these for him.”