"Not trustworthy."
The firm, unequivocal reply made Avada freeze for a moment. He lifted his head in surprise, meeting Baron's steady gaze.
"It's not that I don't want to trust him. It's that I can't. After all, he has been our professor for half a year, and he really did show sincere intent just now. Personally speaking, I'm very willing to trust him."
Baron's tone sank slightly. "But choosing to trust him isn't something I alone can decide. It's not even something the two of us can decide… Who knows if what Professor Baker said was true? Who knows what his real intentions are? Who knows if, once we agree to help him, he might secretly manipulate us—push us into doing something harmful?"
"We can't help it. He's far stronger than we are, and has too many ways to mislead or deceive us… Even that offer he made—saying we could use a magical contract to bind him—it could very well be because he already has a countermeasure prepared, which is why he dared to suggest such a condition."
Avada smiled bitterly inside. He could see where Professor Baker hid his "mind"—and so he could attempt to trust that independent fragment capable of thought. But that insight existed solely because of his unreasonable gift, which let him see the true nature of Baker's spiritual power. There was no way to explain this to anyone else.
As for the possibility of countering the contract, Avada wasn't worried. He had signed Ministry contracts before, and knew that those binding multiple parties engraved their imprint directly into one's spiritual power, creating mutual resonance. In other words, if Baker tried to tamper with his imprint, Avada would instantly sense it. And if Baker truly possessed a way to shield such resonance… Was Avada's Magical Perception just for show?
If anything felt wrong, he would simply go straight to Dumbledore.
But if Baron refused to provide a contract, then Avada certainly didn't dare offer unconditional help to a mysterious wizard so much stronger than himself—what if Baker changed his mind halfway?
"So you're planning to tell Professor Dumbledore?" he asked helplessly.
Truth be told, on this point Avada and Professor Baker shared the same stance: unless it was absolutely necessary, neither wished to approach Dumbledore.
Even though Avada knew that if Dumbledore confirmed Baker had not committed any wrongdoing, he would likely help conceal the matter; even though it could push Dumbledore to consider Horcruxes earlier, greatly speeding up Voldemort's downfall; and even though before seeing Baker's sincerity, Avada had also briefly considered asking Dumbledore for help…
There were still three reasons not to involve him.
First, Avada did not want Dumbledore interfering with Horcruxes too early. If he learned of them now, it could cause unpredictable shifts in the timeline, destroying the carefully crafted plan Avada had made for Voldemort's demise. Worse, one of the Horcruxes—the Resurrection Stone—was something Dumbledore could not be trusted to resist. Avada could not fully entrust this to him.
Second, he already had ideas for magic specifically targeting Horcruxes without damaging the vessel. He needed more samples to continue the research. Following Baker's steps might be the perfect opportunity to learn about Horcruxes, and he didn't want to miss it.
Third—and most important—when Baker said he "had not and would not commit evil," he was telling the truth.
A man who wasn't evil, who needed help, and whose request was justified—those reasons alone were enough for Avada to take risks within reason to help fulfill Baker's wish, independent of any other benefits.
Furthermore, with Legilimency and Veritaserum useless against a powerful wizard, Avada might be the only one capable of verifying Baker's innocence. But the fact that Baker had created a Horcrux remained undeniable, and Horcruxes were universally regarded as the most vile dark magic—even by Dumbledore. If Baker fell into the hands of other wizards… his fate would be far worse than "public disgrace."
This was not the destiny an innocent man should suffer.
"I won't tell anyone else."
Baron suddenly spoke, answering Avada's earlier question.
"Hm?" Avada frowned, confused.
"I said I don't trust Professor Baker because I can't confirm whether what he said is true. But what if he is telling the truth? My actions would only bring disaster to an innocent man." Baron's expression was earnest.
"So what do you plan to do?" Avada asked, curious.
"I'll apply for temporary leave from school," he said. "Once I get home, I'll determine whether there's any possible loophole in the spiritual-imprint contract. If there is, then I'll immediately report the entire matter to the professors. But if there isn't…"
"If there isn't, then I'll have my family's house-elves help me draw up the most thorough, unbreakable contract possible—one capable of completely binding Professor Baker. After Christmas break, I'll return to school and present it to him."
"Sounds good."
Avada nodded approvingly.
"And if Baker truly harbors some hidden motive—if he only planned to exploit the contract, but upon seeing an airtight one realizes his scheme is exposed, then captures me, forces me into an Unbreakable Vow, or strikes with some hidden spell…"
"I'll leave a letter in the dormitory before returning. It will record the entire situation. If I don't come back to deal with it within two days, the letter will automatically move itself to a visible place and open."
Baron smiled with confidence.
"You're planning to shoulder the entire risk yourself?" Avada frowned. He noticed Baron had said I, not we.
"This is my responsibility."
"What responsibility? You're just a first-year student!"
"I'm also a pure-blood. And a Slytherin. Protecting the wizarding world, protecting wizards, protecting the innocent—these are my duties. Normally, I could push such responsibility onto those stronger than me. But now, if I do that, an innocent man might suffer. This is the only choice."
"If Professor Baker is innocent, and his request is reasonable, then I should help him with everything I can—not just him, but anyone."
"This is the responsibility we pure-blood families are born with. It is the price we pay for wealth and honor beyond that of others."
"…"
Avada was silent for a long while.
He wanted to tell Baron that his greatest duty was to protect himself, to give peace of mind to those who cared about him—not to place others above himself, not to take on danger recklessly, not to gamble with his own life.
But Baron's plan was exactly what Avada needed: solve the matter in secret, without letting Dumbledore encounter Horcruxes at this point in time.
Looking into Baron's clear, unwavering eyes, Avada felt a pang of guilt.
He was using Baron.
And Baron should never have been involved in the first place—if Avada hadn't impulsively told him about the Room of Requirement, this burden should have been his alone.
"At least take me with you."
Avada said weakly. "I'm part of this, and I know everything. I have the right—and responsibility—to share the risk. I'm not going to watch a friend walk into danger while I stand by doing nothing."
"That's acceptable."
Baron finally nodded, though his face remained stiff. "Let's go downstairs first. Standing here arguing won't solve anything."
"True enough."
Avada chuckled and headed for the stairs.
"Obliviate!"
"Protego!"
The very next second, sparks flew as two first-years unleashed a spell exchange that would leave any professor slack-jawed.
Avada had already drawn his wand at some unknown moment. A pale blue, transparent shield rose before him as he peered through it with amusement at Baron's stunned expression.
From Baron's sudden shift in attitude to the surge of mental power—did Avada really not know what he intended to do?
But he hadn't expected Baron to actually master the Memory Charm in first year.
"You need to try trusting and acknowledging others."
Avada met Baron's eyes and spoke calmly. "Not everyone needs your protection. And you can't protect everyone. Thinking otherwise is arrogance."
"You can't shoulder the risk of this alone. You need my help."
"You…"
Baron stared at Avada—his serious face, the faint smile tugging at his eyes, and the solid pale blue shield. Slowly, he lowered his wand.
"…Fine."
Without another word, he brushed past Avada and headed down the stairs first.
Avada watched his figure disappear around the corner. Then he turned back, gazing deeply toward the farthest end of the eighth-floor corridor before hurrying after Baron.
The Headmaster's office was also on the eighth floor.
(End of Chapter)