59 Chapter 59

"Of course, Albus," McGonagall said politely, and moved to the injured girl. Snape was pacing back and forth by the cauldron, fuming.

"Milo," Dumbledore said, "I understand that it's late, and you have class tomorrow, but—would you mind coming to my office for a brief chat?"

"Of course, Headmaster," Milo said politely. There were no rules anywhere for sleep deprivation, ergo, Milo could stay up as late as he wanted.

The eccentric Headmaster led Milo through the labyrinthine castle, up the stairs (skipping, unconsciously, the trick step in the second-floor staircase) and, at last, to a random dead end.

"Uh," Milo said. "Your office isn't just out here in the hall, is it?"

"Sherbet Lemon," Dumbledore said.

"That's... not really an answer, you know."

"Ah, young Milo, in that, you are wrong."

A nearby gargoyle statue slowly began to move.

"Holycrapgargoyle!" Milo shrieked. "Glitterdust!" He held out his hand, but nothing happened. Right, he thought, embarrassed. I'm completely out of spells. Until he had a chance to prepare new spells, Milo was basically a Commoner with a high Will save and a pet rat.

The gargoyle, however, proved to be merely a statue, which rose as it turned, revealing a spiral staircase.

"Sweet entrance," Milo said appreciatively.

"No pun intended?" Dumbledore asked wryly.

"What?"

"Well, you said sweet entrance, and the password, of course, is my favourite form of sweet..."

Milo stared at him blankly.

The Headmaster just sighed and began climbing the formidable staircase.

Dumbledore's office was awesome. There was simply no other word to describe it. Wondrous Items of all sorts decorated every flat surface that Milo could see; many of which were ticking at inconsistent, conflicting speeds—no doubt, Milo assumed, to confuse his enemies. Up on the walls were more animated portraits looking down at them, and, in the corner, lay the sorting hat.

"Please, sit down," Dumbledore said. "Can I get you anything? Cocoa? Tea?"

"That first one," Milo requested. "I have no idea what it is."

Dumbledore waved his wand lazily, and a large mug of hot cocoa appeared in front of Milo. They have a spell for that? Milo wondered. Just for conjuring steaming hot mugs of cocoa?

"You're probably wondering why I've invited you here," Dumbledore said. Unless, of course, it's a spell that summons arbitrary hot drinks.

"Actually, I was wondering what spell you used to conjure the drinks," Milo said, then frowned. Wait, why on the Prime Material did I just say that?

"A nonverbal variant of the Summoning Charm," Dumbledore shrugged. "Created by Helga Hufflepuff herself to summon food from the kitchens of Hogwarts. It only works within the grounds."

I must still be under the effects of the Veritaserum, Milo realized. Was that why Dumbledore had summoned him up here now?

"Now you're probably wondering why I've invited you here?" Dumbledore asked, somewhat hopefully.

"No, I was wondering if you'd invited me here now because I'm still compelled to speak only the truth," Milo said. Aarrrgh!

Dumbledore chuckled.

"As much as I feel the world could do with a little more honesty, no, that's not the reason. I was travelling the past few days—Wizengamot business, you understand—and my sleep schedule is quite turned upside-down. This was the first in quite some time that I've had a spare moment, in fact."

"I see," Milo said. "Okay, I'll bite. Now I'm wondering why you've invited me here."

"I wanted to know how you did it," Dumbledore said.

"Did what?" Milo asked.

"Faked the potion well enough to fool Snape. That's no easy task, you know."

Milo froze. He nearly dropped his cocoa (which, by the way, was delicious).

"Oh, don't worry," Dumbledore said. "I'm not the Ministry. You're not in trouble."

Milo only then realized how vulnerable he was. No spells. No familiar. No-one who knew where he was. No escape plan. No ability to lie.

"I used magic to keep the mucous from mixing with the glycerol," Milo confessed, "then ended the spell right as Snape tested the potion. I then used some very weak telekinesis to cause Snape to accidentally stir the liquid, thus completing the final step in creating the potion."

"You mean to say that Snape created that potion?" Dumbledore asked, amazed. Then he burst out laughing, and continued to do so until there were tears in his eyes. "I haven't laughed so hard in days," he admitted. "And don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Yeah, I guess it is pretty funny," Milo conceded. "And thanks."

"Don't mention it. Not since the days of Emeric the Evil were Headmasters involved in the business of having their students executed. But that wasn't the only reason I asked you here."

"Oh?"

"You fought a Troll on Hallowe'en," Dumbledore said, "instead of doing the sensible thing and letting trained, fully-qualified adult witches and wizards handle it. Why?"

"It came at me," Milo said.

"You could have run for it," Dumbledore countered.

"It had me cornered."

"You could have jumped out the window," Dumbledore pressed. "You have, after all, a spell for that exact purpose."

Milo frowned. He could have easily escaped the Troll with Feather Fall, now that he thought about it.

"The thought never occurred to me," Milo answered honestly.

"Why not?" Dumbledore asked. "For nearly anyone else in the world, it would be the only thought that occurred to them."

"It's not what I do," Milo said. "Running away from monsters, that is."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

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