---
After completing another tedious round of herb preparation in Snape's office.
Dyroth stretched his tired hands, ready to leave. Just as he was about to say goodbye, Snape stopped him.
"Wait, go to the headmaster's office. Professor Dumbledore wants to see you. The password is 'Cockroach Cluster.'"
"Understood, Professor," Dyroth responded, feeling a little puzzled.
His interactions with Dumbledore had been minimal lately. "Could it be a problem with the shops?"
"Why would the headmaster want to see me now?"
Full of questions, Dyroth arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. The stone gargoyle moved aside as he spoke the password. Inside, Dumbledore was lounging in a rocking chair, engrossed in a thick book. Noticing Dyroth, he set the book down.
"Ah, Dyroth, may I call you that?"
"Of course, Headmaster."
"Please, sit down. Are you hungry?"
Dyroth glanced around the room at the flickering torches and gave Dumbledore a knowing look. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to have dinner at my own place."
His meaning was clear—let's get to the point, Headmaster. I have to leave soon
Dumbledore chuckled. "Do you remember the agreement between us?"
"Remember, it shouldn't be me the only onw who helps the other, Dyroth..."
Dyroth paused, realizing he hadn't kept up much contact with Harry over the past couple of months. He scratched his head, feeling slightly awkward. "It's not that I don't want to interact with him, but, well, I haven't had many chances."
Dumbledore observed him with a twinkle of skepticism but didn't press the issue.
"You're aware of how Harry has been doing during this time, aren't you?"
Dyroth considered it. Without Hermione's sharp mind, the secret on the third floor remained undiscovered. Harry's life had been fairly uneventful. He played games with Ron during class, napped when he could, and spent his free time visiting Hagrid or playing wizard chess. For a boy with the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, he lived as any ordinary Hogwarts student would—without the "Savior of the Wizarding World" title.
"Yes," Dyroth replied, "Harry's life has been... peaceful."
Dumbledore nodded. "Too peaceful. If this continues, it will weaken his will."
"You want me to teach him? No offense, but Harry doesn't seem like the type to sit still in a library," Dyroth said like he didn't understand the point.
"The professors will take care of his studies," Dumbledore said calmly. "What I want you to help with is cultivating his adventurous spirit."
"Adventurous? Apart from the Forbidden Forest, where's the adventure in Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly.
Dyroth blinked. "You want him to discover the secret on the third floor?"
Now it made sense. If Harry kept on this uneventful path, he would graduate without ever discovering the Philosopher's Stone or confronting Voldemort. No wonder Dumbledore was getting anxious. That encounter needed to happen.
"As the savior, Harry will have to face some challenges," Dumbledore said, popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth, his expression one of satisfaction.
Dyroth grinned. "I see. That shouldn't be too difficult."
This solved his problem perfectly. He had been worrying about how to deal with the events on Halloween night, especially with Hermione and the others. But now, he had a legitimate excuse to involve Harry and Ron. It would make everything easier.
At that moment, a house-elf appeared, bearing dinner. Leah, the elf, quickly withdrew the meal when she saw Dyroth. "Mr. Grindelwald, Leah didn't know it was you! Leah will prepare a new meal for you right away!"
"No need, Leah," Dyroth said, already ravenous. "Your cooking is always wonderful."
Leah beamed, hopping up and down in excitement. "Mr. Grindelwald remembers Leah's name! Leah's food is great! Leah is a very good elf!"
Dumbledore, watching this interaction, raised his eyebrows in surprise. The house-elves seemed to hold Dyroth in unusually high regard—even more than himself as headmaster. He found it a little... unsettling.
Dyroth quickly devoured the meal, clearly satisfied, and handed the plate back to Leah. "Thank you, Leah."
"It's Leah's honor, sir!" the elf squealed happily before vanishing with a snap of her fingers.
As Dyroth stood to leave, Dumbledore couldn't help but ask, "Why do they...?"
"Because I treat them with the respect they dream of," Dyroth said over his shoulder, walking out of the office without looking back.
Dumbledore sat quietly, muttering to himself. "Respect... Gellert, I can't quite figure him out. Tell me, is he pretending?"
---
Back in his dormitory, Dyroth reflected on his conversation with Dumbledore. Every night, he had a habit of reviewing his actions and interactions, ensuring he hadn't missed anything important.
Dumbledore and Voldemort—both had unspoken understandings about each other's presence at Hogwarts. It was clear now that Dumbledore intended for Harry to confront Voldemort, just as he had planned.
"As for Voldemort's Horcruxes," Dyroth thought to himself, "it's time to begin collecting them. A dog on a leash is still a dog."
Voldemort's veiled threat earlier had sparked caution in Dyroth. Voldemort wouldn't fully return until the events of the Triwizard Tournament in 1995, but the Horcruxes were scattered and could be useful leverage.
He mentally reviewed them: the diary with Lucius Malfoy and the diadem hidden in the Room of Requirement were the easiest to access.
"I'll turn those over to Dumbledore eventually—at the right moment when the threat of Voldemort is fully recognized. That'll give me the most leverage. As for the diary, it's a good idea to keep it for insurance."
Dyroth smiled to himself as he settled into bed, his thoughts drifting. "Voldemort, don't blame me. In this game, we all play our roles…"
.
.
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