Chapter 107 - Gift from Nature
Slowly, the stone burned away. It took a few more minutes but the artifact dissolved naturally. There was neither a flash of light nor a sudden burst of sound. When it was gone, it was just simply gone.
As the last remnants of the stone vanished, the white flames died with it. The magnificent Patronus then turned its gaze toward us, looking every person present directly in the eyes. When its eyes finally met Dumbledore's, it lingered. The creature stared for few more seconds, causing even the great Albus Dumbledore to flinch. It was as if the Patronus were peering directly into the depths of his soul.
Meanwhile, as if sensing the Patronus' imminent departure, Fawkes the phoenix, swept low through the chamber. He began to circle the Patronus, letting out a continuous, melodic cry, the strange, beautiful language known only to phoenixes. The Patronus turned its head, acknowledging Fawkes with a slow nod before gently dissolving into a cloud of shimmering light particles.
Because the Patronus had acted without constantly draining my energy, my internal magic power remained largely untapped. The prior exchange of spells with Quirrell and Voldemort, or Quirrell-mort, as I thought of him, had only used a small part my stamina but nothing substantial. My magical capacity and endurance already far exceeded those of an average adult wizard.
With both the stone and the Patronus gone, the dramatic show finally drew to a close and the quiet of the night settled back over the chamber. Dumbledore finally snapped out of his stupor. He was first shaken by the destruction of the Philosopher's Stone and then piercing gaze of the Patronus had unnerved him. He swept his eyes across the ruined room and took into account what had happened.
"Well, children," Dumbledore said, his voice breaking the silence. "It looks like you all have had a rather adventurous night."
As if his words suddenly broke a silencing charm, the children found their voices and began talking all at once, their explanations overlapping in a chaotic rush.
"You won't believe it, Professor! It was Quirrell! It was Professor Quirrell the whole time!" Harry cried, pointing a shaking finger toward the scorched spot on the floor.
"No, he was being controlled, it was Voldemort! He was on the back of his head, Professor, right under the turban!" Ron yelled, his face flushed as he gestured wildly with his hands. "He was like a parasite, just staring at us! It was absolutely brilliant and bloody terrifying!"
"And we thought it was Snape!" Hermione chimed in, her voice pitched high with frantic energy. "We had it all wrong, Professor. We followed Quirrell down here to protect the stone, but we had to go through so many challenges first! Fluffy, and then the Devil's Snare, which Ron completely panicked during, by the way-"
"I did not panic!" Ron interrupted loudly, turning redder. "I was just... analysing our options! And who saved us on the giant chessboard, eh? I took a hit from a stone queen for you lot!"
"Yes and you nearly got your head cracked open, you total idiot!" Hermione shot back, though her eyes were wide with residual adrenaline.
"Then there were the flying keys, and a logic puzzle with potions, we almost died at least four different times before we even reached this room!"
The three of them spoke over one another with such frantic energy that their sentences tangled into an incomprehensible knot. In their excitement, they completely forgot they were standing in front of the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Amused by the display, Professor Dumbledore's characteristic smile returned. He watched them bicker and compete to explain the night's terrors, looking thoroughly pleased to see them in such high spirits after an ordeal.
I smiled as well, deeply relieved that no one had been hurt or injured this time and equally glad that a major problem had been permanently resolved.
Dumbledore raised a hand to placate the shouting Gryffindors. "Okay, children, I understand the gravity of what has transpired. However, it is far too late for this discussion. We shall speak about this tomorrow morning after breakfast. Until then, it is vital that you do not speak of what you witnessed tonight to anyone. Do you understand?"
"Even after tomorrow, this matter must remain a secret. Revealing it could bring you great danger."
He spoke the last warning in a solemn, serious tone that brooked no argument. The children nodded rapidly, looking like a row of startled chickens.
Dumbledore then turned his piercing blue eyes toward me. Before he could speak, I raised my hand in reassurance. "Of course, Professor. My lips are sealed. You can count on me."
Dumbledore let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, clearly at a loss by my casual tone and lack of reverence for the situation. "Well... thank you, Arthur, my boy. Thank you for assisting the children and keeping them safe."
"Of course, Professor," I replied smoothly. "That is my duty, isn't it?"
"Yes, quite right. Absolutely," Dumbledore murmured, nodding slowly. "Now, it is high time you all returned to bed."
"I'll escort them back to the Gryffindor dormitory, Professor," I offered.
"Very well," Dumbledore replied.
Just as the Headmaster turned to lead the way out, the heavy build-up of magic and the mysterious energy crested over us like a tidal wave. It was a profound sensation, similar to the moment when the Horcruxes were destroyed. But it was entirely different in both quantity and quality.
While the Horcrux represented the violent mutilation of a single soul, the object destroyed tonight contained the accumulated soul power of hundreds of thousands of people, gathered since centuries.
The magic humming through the air was tangible. Instantly, I felt a drastic increase in my magical reserves, accompanied by a sharp rush of mental clarity and heightened comprehension.
Beside me, the children looked completely stunned, standing dazed as if they were intoxicated by the sheer ambient magic in the room.
Even Dumbledore, who had played no part in destroying the stone and had actively tried to prevent it, seemed to notice the ambient energy and his posture straightened as he felt the shift in the chamber.
Surprisingly, Fawkes also benefited from the exchange. The phoenix swelled slightly in size, his scarlet and gold plumage glowing with a vibrant, renewed brilliance right before my eyes.
Fawkes let out a low, musical coo. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure that told us all he was incredibly happy.
I thought, 'Well, it seems like the Phoenix was not entirely truthful to Dumbledore when it answered that it could do nothing to those flames.'
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End of Chapter 107 - Gift from Nature