Dumbledore’s Test

Tver now indeed possessed the strength to breach the chessboard.

However, he had no plans to steal the Philosopher's Stone just yet, for two reasons. First, Quirrell was currently in poor health, hardly fit to charge into battle. Second, he needed to understand and assimilate the magic left behind by Helga.

Thus, in the week before the holidays, he canceled all unnecessary activities, focusing on reflecting on his experiences in the Forbidden Forest.

After this period of reflection, his understanding of magical power had ascended to a higher level.

For a wizard of his caliber, achieving such significant progress was nothing short of miraculous.

Moreover, the enhancement was in magical power; he could now literally crush a person to death with a Pressure Charm!

By estimates, in terms of magical power alone, he could now compete with Dumbledore, even with the Elder Wand in hand.

Nevertheless, he would not miss his weekly Transfiguration research meeting with Dumbledore.

After all, the gap in magical philosophy couldn't be bridged by power alone—magic isn't a gun; its myriad peculiar effects are what truly define it.

A pointed critique here for Voldemort!

On the first day of the holidays, Tver did not leave the school with the students but arrived as scheduled in the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was seated as usual, his face full of interest as he fiddled with something in his hands, clearly having been waiting for a while.

"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore." Tver greeted. "I apologize for making you wait. I didn't expect to have so much luggage to pack, having been at the school for less than four months."

He took his seat comfortably but noticed what Dumbledore had been studying—

The Philosopher's Stone! The genuine Philosopher's Stone!

Tver didn't even need to investigate; the intense magical fluctuations were evident, and the sheer life force leaking from it was enough to make him feel rejuvenated and spirited!

His eyes sharpened, and his movements stiffened momentarily, but he quickly returned to normal.

However, Dumbledore had noticed his reaction.

"Good evening," Dumbledore raised the Philosopher's Stone, "I presume you recognize what this is?"

Though it was a question, his tone was firm.

Through his half-moon glasses, Tver met Dumbledore's deep blue eyes.

With a composed smile, he replied, "In the magical world, the only thing so filled with magic would be the legendary Philosopher's Stone."

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, as if trying to read something from his face, before finally breaking into a hearty laugh.

"True to your reputation. I was worried that a younger wizard might not recognize such an ancient artifact."

His face still maintained a calm demeanor, but Tver's heart had risen with anxiety.

Snape must have shared his suspicions about him with Dumbledore!

Of course, Snape wouldn't keep such important matters to himself and investigate alone.

"I still have much to learn compared to you," he said calmly, meeting Dumbledore's gaze.

Worst comes to worst, he could use his teacher's authority as a shield; he didn't believe Dumbledore would actually make a move against him.

With that said, had the teacher become Anti-Dumbledore Charm?

Sensing Tver's composure, Dumbledore withdrew his probing gaze. "No, I mean it's rare to find a young person who knows the whereabouts of the Philosopher's Stone yet remains untempted."

"Oh, you mean someone is trying to steal the Stone?" Tver feigned surprise.

"Yes, I tested it during the summer break, and sure enough, someone was after the Stone," Dumbledore blinked.

Tver realized then that the fake Stone over the summer was Dumbledore's test, likely a trap set in a fishing game.

"But in my view, as long as you keep the Stone with you, I can guarantee no one would dare target it."

Stealing directly from Dumbledore at Hogwarts was unthinkable, even for someone as audacious as Voldemort.

"You're making me blush," Dumbledore said, pouring Tver a glass of pumpkin juice himself. "But as an elderly man, I can't keep watch over this Stone every day. Do you have any good ideas?"

Elderly? With his vigor, if not for any curse, he could well live another fifty years!

Tver scoffed internally, then tentatively suggested, "Perhaps, we could store it somewhere secure?"

"Good idea!" Dumbledore exclaimed excitedly.

"I was thinking along those lines, but I'm unsure about how to store the Stone. Can you help me think of a good method?"

"..."

Tver was at a loss for words, "Perhaps add some form of mental detection to the Stone's protection? If it's a thief, they'd certainly desire the Stone. You could use that, allowing only those who do not covet it to truly possess it."

Dumbledore clapped his hands in appreciation.

"That's a clever design. It seems I haven't asked the wrong person tonight, and just in time for Christmas to set it up. Do you have time to help me with this?"

"I'm sorry, but I need to meet a very important," Tver paused, "elder over the Christmas break, so I can't stay at school to help you. And with the headmaster's capabilities, you hardly need me to meddle, right?"

He didn't believe Dumbledore was merely discussing the Philosopher's Stone with him; he was actually testing whether Tver harbored any desire for it!

Should he show even the slightest hint of interest before Quirrell succeeded in drawing attention, he would be under close scrutiny from both Snape and Dumbledore.

The discussion about the Stone ceased there, and by mutual understanding, they never mentioned it again, treating it as if it were just an ordinary rock on the table.

...

After finishing his research on transfiguration with Dumbledore, Tver didn't immediately leave the headmaster's office on the eighth floor.

Instead, he wandered the floor, checking each tapestry and pacing back and forth across from them.

He was searching for the Room of Requirement.

If there truly was a Chamber of Ravenclaw, it wasn't far-fetched to consider the existence of the Room of Requirement.

In his previous life, he had never cared about the location of the Room of Requirement. Compared to the well-known method of "think of the need and pass three times," its doorway's location never stuck in his memory.

After all, he had never imagined he would travel through time, let alone to the world of Harry Potter.

So, anyone coming to the seventh floor might witness a scene shocking enough to drop their jaws—

Professor Fawley, always elegant in his demeanor, was pacing erratically like a headless fly.

Eventually, this headless fly was surprised to find that the Room of Requirement was gone!

He was certain he had traversed the entire seventh-floor corridor and explored every tapestry, even going so far as to block many portraits from view. But the Room of Requirement did not reveal itself.

As Tver furrowed his brow in frustration, suddenly a loud rumbling noise came from across the corridor. He quickly dodged into a corner under a tapestry depicting a troll clubbing Barnabas the Barmy.

Because, at that moment, the wall opposite him transformed into a door, and as the door opened, a stumbling, inebriated professor emerged.

Sybill Trelawney, the Divination professor and one of the few remaining seers in the wizarding world.

However, her condition was far from admirable.

She was thin, her green robe hanging loosely on her frame, her glasses askew and her hair a disheveled mess, giving her a slovenly appearance.

From a distance, Tver could smell the sour scent of alcohol on her, and her walk was unsteady.

He had been searching here for nearly an hour, which meant that the professor had likely been inside for at least that long.

No wonder he hadn't been able to find the Room of Requirement.

However, Tver had no intention of greeting her. Due to a curse on his body, he always held a certain reverence for prophecies.

Unlike others, he knew this professor truly had the gift of foresight, but in ancient legends, all seers suffer a curse—their words are seldom believed by others.

It was a disheartening and painful reality that seers could foresee impending truths yet were often unable to prevent disasters due to the ironic twists wrought by their curse.

Thus, this seer, who should have been respected, was driven by self-doubt to drown her sorrows in alcohol within the divination tower of Hogwarts.

After Professor Trelawney staggered away, leaning on the walls for support, Tver approached the wall she had emerged from.

It was an ordinary stone wall, its thickness its only notable feature. Even placing his hand upon it, he could not sense any magical feedback.

Had he not witnessed it split open into a door, he would never have guessed this was the location of the Room of Requirement.

What kind of room would he need to enter then?

Snape's changing room? Dumbledore's bathroom?

With a rumble, a refined, luxurious door appeared before Tver, considerately marked with a "men's" sign.

What was the meaning of this?

He quickly dismissed the chaotic thoughts in his mind and turned his attention to Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw's Chamber? Ravenclaw's library? A study?

...

After several attempts, the Room of Requirement gave no response other than the door to the bathroom steadfastly standing before him.

As the sky darkened, Tver stopped trying and simply pushed the door open. Inside was a lavish bathroom filled with a variety of exquisite chamber pots. His attention was not on these chamber pots, though he was momentarily taken aback by their intricacy. Alright, he did wonder which one Dumbledore might have used.

After shedding his bizarre curiosity, Tver began to explore the room's magical sources.

"I can't detect the source of the crests, but surely the magic of the Room of Requirement can be detected!"

As his magic surged from his body, the room's magical structure began to materialize before his "eyes."

But Tver wished he hadn't seen it.

It was too much!

Fine threads crisscrossed the room, with five or six will lines stretching from every inch of the floor, leading to various points on the walls and ceiling.

It was as if the room was entirely composed of magic, but the question was, where did all these will lines lead?

The Room of Requirement couldn't possibly be constructed by the combined magic of thousands of wizards, could it?!

Wait, he realized something.

The Room of Requirement did exist as a storage room!

So, were these will lines extending from the magical items within?

Tver didn't investigate further. Just probing a dozen items earlier had left him dizzy; now, there were thousands of lines, quickly depleting his magical energy.

However, he confirmed that searching for Ravenclaw's Chamber couldn't be done like Helga's, relying on will lines.

As for the Horcrux in the storage room, he would return to search for it later. For now, one ring and Quirrell were enough for him to contend with.