"Henry, have a seat." Dumbledore waved his wand, and a chair appeared behind Hoare.
Hoare sat down, unsure of Dumbledore's intentions.
"McGonagall, could you please take Professor Quirrell back to the infirmary?"
"Severus, could you handle the next first-year class for me?"
"I need to have a chat with our young Professor William."
Dumbledore calmly arranged everything, even making a small joke with a smile.
Hoare was even more confused about what Dumbledore meant, but it was clear he wanted to talk to him alone.
First, he tested him with the Dark Mark, then used the deranged Quirrell to provoke him.
Listening to Quirrell, it seemed like he was trying to pin the blame on Hoare.
But Hoare didn't believe Dumbledore truly trusted Quirrell. If Dumbledore could be deceived with just a few words, Voldemort would have taken over Hogwarts long ago.
Once everyone else had left the headmaster's office and the door closed, Dumbledore spoke again.
"Henry, you've been working hard lately." With a wave of his wand, two cups of honey tea appeared on the table.
"I thought once Professor Quirrell recovered, he could help you and Severus with the classes, but alas..." He sighed, stopping the topic, and handed one of the cups to Hoare.
"Oh, Henry." Dumbledore took a large sip, savoring it for a moment before saying, "Such a delightful drink, it's a pity I've only met one connoisseur like you."
Hoare didn't hold back, taking a big gulp from his cup, finishing half of it.
Indeed, it was classic Dumbledore-style honey water, with a lethal amount of honey, sweet enough to make your teeth ache.
Hoare loved it.
The cup automatically refilled with more honey water.
Holding the cup with both hands, Hoare spoke, "Headmaster, the assistant work isn't hard for me, if that's what you're wondering."
"No, my child." Dumbledore pondered for a moment before speaking again, "Child, you've done well. Whether it's the assistant work, your studies, Quidditch training, or the development of the Squib Potion."
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"You've done well, and I'm proud to be your headmaster." Dumbledore's blue eyes showed a faint smile as he spoke.
He genuinely seemed proud of Hoare.
Hoare knew what was coming next.
"But, my child..." Dumbledore continued.
Hoare thought, as expected.
"You're still too young." Dumbledore's words made Hoare frown. What did he mean by too young, in what way!?
Dumbledore seemed to understand Hoare's defiance and asked, "Do you know the difference between a Dark Wizard and a Light Wizard?"
Hoare thought for a moment, "Light Wizards focus on healing, Dark Wizards on attacking."
Dumbledore chuckled at Hoare's summary, placing his cup on the table, and walked to the window.
With his back to Hoare, he spoke in a long, drawn-out voice, "Light Wizards can attack, and Dark Wizards can heal."
"The true difference lies in the heart."
"Magic itself is neither good nor bad; it's the heart that determines its nature."
---
Several days had passed since that conversation with Dumbledore.
Hoare had carefully thought over Dumbledore's words and seemed to understand.
Old Dumbledore hadn't believed Quirrell's words, but he did have doubts about Hoare's identity, knowing he wasn't truly Henry William.
Yet, despite his suspicions, Dumbledore hadn't forced him to reveal his identity.
For that alone, Hoare felt grateful to Dumbledore.
He needed to find a way to prove to Dumbledore that he was innocent.
Hoare suddenly thought of something.
The Philosopher's Stone on the third floor of the castle.
The stability of the Squib Potion had been tested with countless materials, but what if he used the Philosopher's Stone? It was the most successful alchemical item of the time.
If it could achieve immortality, surely it could restore magic.
If he could complete the Squib Potion, wouldn't that prove his innocence to Dumbledore?
After all, to the man with a snake face and his followers, Squibs were the most disgraceful existence, so why would they try to cure them?
The biggest challenge in obtaining the Philosopher's Stone was that three-headed dog.
Hoare recalled the weakness of the three-headed dog from his memory: it loved music and would fall asleep upon hearing it.
But if the music stopped, the three-headed dog would wake immediately.
Hoare pondered where he could get a music box that played continuously.
During the day, Hoare worked several jobs, busy as a spinning top, with only the late nights free.
After searching for a long time without finding a suitable music box, Hoare decided to make one himself, saving money in the process.
The Room of Requirement had all the materials he needed.
After several sleepless nights and many failed attempts, he finally made a music box that could play all night without interruption.
The song was simple, forgive Hoare's lack of musical talent, it was the well-known "Jingle Bells" from his previous life.
Once he had modified the music box to play on its own, Hoare picked a night.
"Exchange for Stupefy."
[Ding]
[Panel Update]
[B-level Ability: Spells (Patronus Charm, Basic Transfiguration {self-taught}, Petrificus Totalus, Finite, Tongue-Tying Curse, Body-Binding Curse, Leg-Locking Curse, Jelly-Legs Curse, Stupefy)]
[Available Galleons: 1508 Galleons, 6 Sickles, 23 Knuts]
He spent a night casting "Stupefy" on his already sleeping dorm mate, Millicent Bagnold, to ensure she remained unconscious until he returned.
He knew the spell wasn't the most comfortable, but why should he use a more comfortable sleep spell?
Don't think he didn't know that Millicent Bagnold was spreading rumors about him all day.
Though Hoare didn't have time to care, it didn't mean he wouldn't retaliate.
Hoare took out the Marauder's Map and followed the shortest route to the right-hand corridor on the third floor.
After passing through a small path, he found himself near the Gryffindor Common Room. He heard someone mention his name from afar and quickly hid behind a large Roman pillar.
It was Ron and Harry.
Out at night, those two were also sneaking around.
"Harry, I'm telling you, there's definitely something wrong with William!" Ron's tone was very serious, pulling Harry along as he whispered.
"The records we found show that William was the last to borrow them. Why is he investigating this?"
"There's definitely something wrong!" Ron said with such conviction that if Hoare weren't the subject, he might have believed him.
"Ron, don't jump to conclusions. Maybe Henry is just curious?" Harry quietly countered.
"Then how do you explain him driving Professor Quirrell mad?" Ron, unhappy with Harry's disbelief, continued.
"He's a dangerous person!"
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