"New discoveries?" Dumbledore looked deeply at Louis. "Mr. Wilson, you seem rather concerned about this matter."
"If I weren't, I'm afraid I'd lose control and punch a few of those idiotic Slytherins," Louis spread his hands helplessly. "They're dying to believe I'm the Heir of Slytherin right now, you understand?"
"I… suppose I do," Dumbledore replied, looking a bit taken aback. "All right then, tell me about your discovery."
"My discovery is that the Ministry of Magic is full of idiots!" Louis declared bluntly. "I used to think Fudge was the dumbest wizard alive, but now it turns out the Minister from fifty years ago was just as bad."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "It seems you've truly found something important."
"Of course. At least now I know that the death scene of the Acromantula victim was extremely distinctive." Louis leaned back in his chair. "Back then, everyone believed Hagrid was the culprit for secretly keeping a giant spider."
"Louis—oh, forgive me for calling you that—but you must understand, this is politics," Dumbledore said slowly. "I didn't want you involved in this sort of thing so soon. The truth is, the Ministry knew perfectly well that Hagrid was innocent. But at that time, they needed someone to take the blame. That wasn't just the Ministry's idea—it was Hogwarts' as well."
"If the real culprit couldn't be found, Hogwarts would have been ordered to close. None of the professors wanted that to happen."
"And as luck would have it, someone discovered Hagrid was illegally raising an Acromantula. Everything fell perfectly into place."
Louis finally realized how naïve he'd been. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "If that's the case, then surely everyone must've noticed who that conveniently placed informant was, right?"
"Of course. Every professor—and even the Headmaster—saw through the truth…" Dumbledore sighed, sounding a little wistful. "But that boy seemed rather proud of himself, thinking he'd fooled everyone."
"He never noticed the disappointment in Headmaster Dippet's eyes when his request to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts was rejected, did he?"
At that point, it couldn't be clearer.
In the original story, Voldemort—Tom Riddle—believed he'd deceived every professor, except for Dumbledore, who had always suspected him. But in truth, all the professors had doubted him; Dumbledore was merely the most obvious about it.
They'd even given Tom Riddle a "Special Award for Services to the School" — a polite way of saying "we're on to you."
But behind the scenes, everyone had distanced themselves from him, even the Headmaster who once favored him most. Dippet had rejected his request to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, inadvertently starting the curse that would plague that position for decades to come.
Louis sighed inwardly. So it really doesn't pay to think everyone else is stupid.
He was grateful he'd never been arrogant enough to assume others were fools. In truth, no one was. Just as Dumbledore had once told him when they left the Ministry together — sometimes you don't need to win a confrontation to achieve your goals.
When others think you're an idiot, your room for maneuver becomes much greater — because no one bothers watching what an idiot does.
Take Fudge for example. If it weren't for Voldemort, he might've gone down in history as "the greatest Minister of Magic ever," simply because no major incidents happened during his term — all neatly covered up, of course.
"So, Louis," Dumbledore finally asked, "is that all you discovered?"
"Of course not." Louis smiled. "I also know what the monster inside the Chamber of Secrets is."
Dumbledore didn't look surprised. He merely asked, "And what did you find?"
"It seems you already have your own theory, Headmaster," Louis said, studying his calm expression. "Wouldn't it be presumptuous of me to say it aloud?"
"My theory is only a guess, not proof," Dumbledore replied. "I'd very much like to hear what you've concluded."
"All right then. The creature in the Chamber is a basilisk." Louis glanced at Dumbledore's unsurprised expression and clicked his tongue.
"So my earlier hints did help you find the right direction."
"Indeed," Dumbledore admitted. "After your reminder, I questioned Moaning Myrtle again about the details. She said she saw two large golden lanterns before losing consciousness, while Mrs. Norris was only petrified."
He stroked Fawkes's feathers. "So I deduced that the creature must be a basilisk, and that the entrance to the Chamber lies in the abandoned girls' lavatory on the third floor. Mrs. Norris must have seen its eyes reflected in the water — an indirect gaze that spared her life."
"So, Professor," Louis asked, "do you have a plan to deal with it?"
Dumbledore fell silent for a while before answering. "The only way is to kill the basilisk."
"You're not planning to send Harry to do it, are you? I can see you've placed high hopes on him, but aren't you afraid he'll get himself killed halfway through?" Louis asked dryly.
"Of course not," Dumbledore said firmly. "Unless I am no longer at this school, I would never let a student take on such a dangerous task. But tell me—have you found out who's behind all this?"
"Not yet," Louis crossed his arms.
"Haven't tried divination?" Dumbledore pressed.
"No intuition, no tools. I'll deal with prophecies next school year."
Louis took a sip of tea, then suddenly asked, "Headmaster, do you happen to have Advanced Secrets of the Dark Arts in your collection?"
The Headmaster's office fell into a deathly silence. The portraits of former headmasters turned their eyes toward him.
After a long pause, Dumbledore finally asked, "Why do you want that book? Or should I ask—how do you even know its name?"
"A passive prophecy," Louis replied firmly. "To be precise—something I saw in a dream."
"A dream? That can count as a form of prophecy, I suppose," Dumbledore said, studying Louis's eyes again, the urge to peer into his mind rising once more. "Do you understand what that book represents?"
"Of course. It's the Dark Lord's first textbook, isn't it?" Louis said calmly. "And Headmaster, I think by now you've realized you can't read my thoughts anymore—so you'd better not try."
Dumbledore blinked, slightly taken aback. "Louis, you know… quite a lot."
"More than you imagine," Louis replied evenly. "So, how about this—I'll deal with the basilisk, and in exchange, you give me Advanced Secrets of the Dark Arts."
"And may I ask what you intend to do with it?" Dumbledore asked in return.
Louis smiled faintly. "There's an old saying from the East — Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated. Only by studying something thoroughly can you find the way to destroy it."
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