The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 34 Quirinas Quirrell

"Do you find it difficult to trust me, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Lin Qi calmly looked at the old man opposite him.

Dumbledore looked at Lynch, remaining silent as he gently stroked his beard.

"I thought we had reached an agreement last time," Lynch continued. "You can never completely trust me, but on the matter of fighting Voldemort, my position is trustworthy."

The matter concerning the Stone Pagoda Merchant Guild was merely a necessary...warning.

He paused slightly, "For me personally, it's about my future livelihood."

After all, Voldemort is a shadow in our lives, but life itself isn't just about shadows, is it?

A gentle smile suddenly appeared on Dumbledore's face, and the wrinkles on his face smoothed out: "I wholeheartedly agree, Mr. Lynch. Life is not just about Voldemort."

The tense atmosphere between the two seemed to ease a little, and they smiled at each other again.

Lynch leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense: "So, let's rebuild our trust in Voldemort."

He extended his right hand, and a Galleon floated above his palm.

As he turned his palm over, a glimmer of light flashed, and the metallic texture instantly transformed into the suppleness of paper—a photograph lay quietly in his palm.

Lynch placed the photo on the table and pushed it toward Dumbledore: "This is my sincerity."

Dumbledore picked up the photograph, and the next moment, his pupils behind the lens suddenly contracted, and the fingers gripping the edge of the photograph tightened slightly.

"This is..." His voice carried a hint of barely perceptible hesitation and deep surprise.

In the photo, a young man is walking briskly through a dark alley, his head wrapped in a large turban, revealing only half of his taut profile.

But that was enough to identify him.

"Quirinus Quirrell," Lynch's voice rang out at the opportune moment, confirming Dumbledore's assessment, "Professor Quirrell, who works at Hogwarts and is currently on leave."

He continued, "On the evening of July 31st, in Paris, at the Palais Garnier, which was under renovation, a performance of Mozart's 'The Marriage of Figaro' was scheduled, attracting many opera lovers, including, I believe, your reclusive alchemist friend..."

Dumbledore's deep blue eyes gleamed: "You mean..."

"That's right." Lynch confirmed decisively, reaffirming Dumbledore's judgment. "According to the available records, Professor Quirrell traveled to the Dark Forest in Albania."

After emerging from there, his whereabouts became elusive and difficult to track.

Around the same time, Voldemort left his lair in the Dark Forest.

Lynch lowered his voice and calmly stated his conclusion: "Voldemort wants the Philosopher's Stone!"

Your good friend Nick Lemaître became his target.

He had calculated that opera enthusiasts like Nicolas Lemaître would not miss the important performances at the Palais Garnier, so he laid an ambush in Paris, waiting for them to arrive.

At this point, a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth: "Unfortunately, a friend of mine happened to be looking for Mr. Lemaître, wanting to discuss cooperation. He accidentally stumbled upon Quirrell's spying and promptly warned Mr. Lemaître, forcing Quirrell to flee in panic."

Lynch leaned back on the sofa and looked at Dumbledore with certainty: "Based on my guess, after being frightened, Mr. Flamel will entrust the Philosopher's Stone to the person he trusts most, and the place he believes is safest—by your side."

Am I right?

Dumbledore's gaze deepened. "Fleming did indeed entrust the Philosopher's Stone to me. However," he changed the subject, "could you first tell me how your friend foresaw Professor Quirrell's plan to ambush Nick in Paris?"

Lynch met Dumbledore's gaze, his eyes sincere: "It's all a coincidence. My friend has been wanting Mr. Flamel to develop some high-end alchemical products for the Stone Tower Merchant Guild."

However, due to the inability to find Mr. Lemaître, this idea was shelved.

Later, upon hearing that Mr. Lemaître was a great lover of opera performances, he decided to try his luck at several famous opera houses in Paris, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Unexpectedly, they first encountered Quirrell, who was furtively spying on Monsieur Lemaître.

"A coincidence..." Dumbledore murmured, clasping his hands together in front of him, his fingertips touching, lost in thought.

The only sound in the stone house for a moment was the soft crackling of the firewood in the fireplace.

After a long pause, he lowered his hands, his voice regaining its calm: "Professor Quirrell applied to me about a month ago to transfer from professor of Muggle Studies to professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts... I approved his application."

A knowing glint flashed in Lynch's eyes, and he immediately continued Dumbledore's words: "Muggle Studies is an elective course that begins in the third year, while Defense Against the Dark Arts... is a core course that all Hogwarts students must take in their first five years."

"He made two preparations! For the boy and for the Philosopher's Stone." Lynch and Dumbledore exchanged a glance and said the final conclusion in unison.

As they looked at each other, Dumbledore suddenly frowned slightly.

"What came to mind?" Lin Qi asked astutely.

Dumbledore answered him slowly and solemnly: "I have carefully prepared a trap for Voldemort, and the Philosopher's Stone will be the bait. But it seems that this trap... is destined to fail to exclude Professor Quirrell."

"You're worried he... has a solution prepared for every step of the trap?" Lynch's eyes gleamed with inquiry. "What was your original plan?"

Dumbledore turned to him and slowly revealed his plan: "I plan to gather the school's teachers and have each of them set up a challenge, placing the Philosopher's Stone at the end of the challenge."

Then... guide the child to overcome these obstacles.

Using the child and the Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort was lured into his final trap.

"This plan sounds good, and I think it can still be implemented, with a high probability of success," Lynch sincerely praised. But then, his gaze fixed intently on Dumbledore: "So how do you plan to ensure the child's safety? To make sure he isn't torn to shreds by his prey before the trap works?"

Dumbledore's voice was steady and powerful: "As you know, Mr. Lynch, the magical effects that Miss Lily's sacrifice triggered still flow in the child's blood, and Voldemort himself cannot harm the child."

"And what about Quirrell?" Lynch asked, still not letting his guard down. "He's not within the scope of that magical defense."

Dumbledore's tone carried a certainty that seemed to understand human nature: "Professor Quirrell is not a man capable of controlling his ambitions. He is not capable of harming that child's life under our watchful eyes."

Lynch nodded slightly, looking directly into Dumbledore's eyes: "You've calculated everything perfectly, and your plan sounds feasible, but you still seem worried. What are you worried about?"

Dumbledore's deep blue eyes were fixed on Lynch. He spoke slowly, his voice low and penetrating: "You, Mr. Lynch, you..."