“You already have the answer in your heart, don’t you?”
Hermes spoke softly.
“For you, using others is a duty imposed upon you by fate, but partiality and affection are your true nature.”
He adjusted his posture and asked rhetorically, “Isn’t that right?”
Dumbledore trembled slightly.
He stared at Hermes in a daze before a trace of gratitude appeared on his face.
“Thank you…
Thank you for understanding an old man like me.”
Dumbledore leaned forward, a faint plea entering his aged voice.
“As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, my every action is observed by countless people.
If I show too much favoritism toward Harry or become overly protective of him, it will only draw attention to how special he is.”
He raised his eyes and looked firmly at Hermes.
“If that happens, Harry may be forced to confront a deadly crisis before he is ready.”
Having explained his reasoning, Dumbledore finally made his request.
“That is why I would like you to watch over him.
You needn’t make your protection too obvious.
I merely ask that you protect the child in those moments when I cannot attend to everything myself.”
At first, Dumbledore had not possessed a clear understanding of Hermes’s strength.
All he had learned from Karkaroff was that Hermes possessed exceptionally profound attainments in the Dark Arts.
However, from the moment he first saw Hermes, Dumbledore had known almost immediately that the young man standing before him was a wizard whose power was nearly equal to his own.
Yet there was an enormous difference between them.
Hermes had only recently graduated.
He was still exceptionally young.
Hermes lowered his gaze and considered the request for a moment before looking at Dumbledore again.
At that moment, the old man resembled nothing more than a helpless grandfather worried about his threatened grandchild.
“You want me to protect him from the shadows?”
“Yes.” Dumbledore sighed softly, his long white beard swaying with the movement.
“No matter how meticulously a plan is arranged, unforeseen accidents can always occur.”
That was particularly true when the plan involved allowing an underage wizard to confront the Dark Lord of the wizarding world.
“There is no need to alter the path along which he is meant to grow, nor do you need to remove the obstacles ahead of him.
“He must still face the trials that are necessary for his growth.
You need only intervene at the critical moment—if Lord Voldemort’s minions make their move and Harry’s life is truly in danger.
Nothing more.”
Fawkes quietly spread his wings and landed on Dumbledore’s shoulder, releasing a soft cry that made the sincerity in the old man’s eyes appear even more genuine.
“And what about you, Professor?” Hermes asked.
“Hahaha…” Dumbledore smiled calmly.
“These old bones of mine no longer require anyone’s protection.”
With that, he looked at Hermes expectantly and waited for his answer.
He did not answer.
Instead, he quietly rose from his seat and walked toward the door of the Headmaster’s office.
“Hermes?”
Dumbledore’s questioning voice came from behind him.
“I’m returning to my office.”
Hermes sighed, sounding rather helpless.
“That fellow Quirrell gave me no time to prepare before dumping his students’ lessons on me.
I need to begin making preparations as soon as possible.”
As he spoke, his figure gradually disappeared through the doorway.
For a moment, Dumbledore remained frozen.
Then a knowing smile appeared on his face.
“He agreed?”
A former Headmaster asked the question from his portrait on the wall behind Dumbledore.
“Yes.” Dumbledore nodded, visibly relieved.
“He agreed.”
As he spoke, a sly glimmer appeared in the depths of his eyes.
He reached out and gently stroked Fawkes’s beak.
With this, the greatest unpredictable variable had been drawn over to their side.
Although the overall plan would now require some corresponding adjustments, its chances of success had become far greater than before.
…
Meanwhile, as Hermes approached his office, he saw the suspiciously hunched figures of Harry and Ron lurking outside the door.
“Ow!
You stepped on my foot, Harry.”
Ron complained in dissatisfaction while pressing his ear firmly against the door, trying to hear any movement from within.
“Are you sure you know Professor Moriarty?”
He looked at Harry skeptically.
“Or is this the kind of ‘knowing him’ where you did something to offend him?”
They had been knocking for quite some time, but Professor Moriarty had not given them so much as a response, let alone opened the door and invited them inside.
“Sorry, Ron.”
Harry stepped back and removed his foot from Ron’s.
“Perhaps Ho—Professor Moriarty is simply busy.”
As he offered this explanation, Harry tightened his grip on the parchment in his hand.
Just as he prepared to lie down and peer through the gap beneath the door, an extremely familiar voice came from behind them.
“What are you doing here?”
“Professor Moriarty!”
The moment Ron heard his voice, he jumped and instinctively spun around.
“Uncle Hermes!”
Harry was pleasantly surprised.
“It really is you!
I never expected to see you at Hogwarts.”
Hermes glanced at the parchment in Harry’s hand before opening his office door.
“Come inside before we talk.
Don’t stand around in the corridor.”
With that, he entered the office first.
Behind him, Harry and Ron exchanged glances before quickly following.
The moment he entered, Harry swept his gaze across the interior of the office.
Eventually, his attention settled on a particular door.
“Hey, what are you looking at?”
Ron tugged at Harry’s sleeve and urgently reminded him in a whisper, “Hurry up and give the parchment to the Professor!”
“Oh, right.”
Harry nodded and stepped up to Hermes’s desk.
“Professor, Professor Quirrell asked us to deliver this to you during our lesson this afternoon.”
Standing beside him, Ron glanced at the parchment Harry had placed on the desk.
Then he looked up at Hermes and asked curiously, “Professor Moriarty, why did Professor Quirrell give you his timetable?”
Harry also looked at Hermes expectantly.
Although the two boys had discussed several possibilities on the way there, they were still extremely nervous as they waited for an answer.
However, Hermes merely picked up the timetable, glanced over it, and replied calmly, “Students should not concern themselves with a professor’s affairs.”
With a casual wave of his hand, a large stack of parchment appeared on the desk.
Then his gaze shifted toward the two boys, who had already begun preparing to leave.
He called them back.
After giving them the answer sheet for the multiple-choice questions, Hermes left the two convenient laborers who had delivered themselves to his door to grade the tests.
He then pushed open the wooden door inside the room and returned to the Castle.
“You’re back.”
Calcifer lay along the edge of the fireplace, wearing a knowing and wicked smile.
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
Baffled by Calcifer’s expression, Hermes frowned.
“Professor Dumbledore looked so pitiful today.”
Calcifer’s tone was exaggerated, and his face displayed an obviously theatrical expression.
“Just like a poor, lonely old grandfather.”
The moment Hermes heard this, something occurred to him, and his expression changed abruptly.
“That old fox!”
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