Seeing Neville's puzzled expression, Ted continued, "Magic is amazing, and there are plenty of ways to extend life in the wizarding world. I just want to see if I can make some progress in alchemy. Hogwarts doesn't exactly teach this stuff. Also, you better study hard—I don't want to be laying flowers on your graves a hundred years from now."
Neville blinked, momentarily picturing an elderly Ted solemnly placing a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of his own gravestone.
For the first time, he understood the appeal of longevity.
Ted scraped at the Philosopher's Stone for a while, but it was completely fruitless.
The stone seemed to mock him silently: Master, stop scratching, it tickles~
Frustrated, Ted dropped it with a huff. "What in Merlin's name? Why is this thing so ridiculously hard?!"
Neville caught the Philosopher's Stone and set it carefully on the ground before glancing around. "Where are the professors? What happened to Harley and the others?"
Ted waved him off. "Relax. This is Hogwarts. As long as Dumbledore's around, they'll be fine."
At that very moment, the "old fox" himself, Albus Dumbledore, who had been observing in secret this whole time, suddenly felt his face heat up.
He silently stepped to the entrance, dropped his concealment charm, and strolled in through the fire door as if he had just arrived. "Oh dear! Neville, Epifani, are you alright?! I do hope I'm not too late!"
Ted glanced at him with a knowing look. "Professor, you came just in time."
Since Neville hadn't been directly attacked by Voldemort this time, he hadn't lost consciousness.
The two of them were finally brought back above ground. Despite all the dangers they had faced, only Ron had suffered a sprained ankle. Everyone else was fine.
Harley and the others had managed to call for backup, bringing Professor McGonagall, Snape, and the others to the scene.
However, Dumbledore had convinced them to return, promising he would handle the situation personally.
Since they all knew full well that this entire mess was orchestrated by Dumbledore himself, they simply told Ted and the others to rest and report any discomfort before leaving.
Perhaps still unsure of how to debrief them, Dumbledore sent Ted and the others back to bed.
After all, it was past midnight.
Of course, giving Ted even a pinch of Philosopher's Stone dust was out of the question.
That miserly old man was keeping it locked up tight!
Ted was beyond exhausted when he finally made it back, but there were plenty of rewards to check out.
First, three cards had dropped from the troll battle:
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[Magic Visual Nictitating Membrane (Blue)]
Material Card
A specially modified transparent eyelid that can see the color of magic.
Note: Not particularly valuable, but quite rare.
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[Power Card (Blue)]
Spell CardUse to gain +1 Strength.
Uses: 1/1
Note: If Strength exceeds 20, this card becomes invalid.
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[Troll Power Bracelet (Blue)]
Equipment Card
A bracelet crafted from troll skin.Wear: +1 Strength.
Note: If Strength exceeds 20, this becomes ineffective.
Note: Safe and odorless. Feel free to wear it!
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The first card contained a special material—the nictitating membrane from some modified troll's eyes. Ted wasn't entirely sure what he could use it for yet, but being able to see magic could come in handy.
The second card was a Strength boost. Ted would have preferred Intelligence or Spirit, but given that trolls had neither, he'd take what he could get.
The third was an equipable bracelet—an antique-looking, intricately woven brown leather band.
Wait a minute… what kind of leather was this exactly?
Some things were better left unexamined.
Ignorance is bliss.
It was late, so Ted wasted no time.
He used the [Power Card (Blue)], boosting his Strength by +1, then slipped on the [Troll Power Bracelet (Blue)]. His Strength stat instantly climbed to 6.
At just twelve years old and barely 1.5 meters tall, he was already stronger than the average adult.
Next, he turned his attention to the reward from the [Breakthrough the Game (Blue)] mission:
The first card depicted a wizard in strange robes, wielding a staff and launching a glowing purple orb.
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[Gravity Ball (Blue)]
Spell Card
Launches a Gravity Ball, causing stance disruption on impact and temporarily altering the target's gravitational orientation.
Note: Consumes a significant amount of mana.
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The second card showed a figure in a green vest, spewing a massive fireball from his mouth.
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[Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu (Blue)]
Spell Card
Unleashes a powerful, bursting fireball with concussive impact.
Note: This technique has killed exactly zero people. The world calls it the "Benevolent Fireball Jutsu."
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The third card depicted a necromancer in a simple robe, holding a staff with a crescent moon at the tip.
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[Crescent Staff (Blue)]
Prop Card
+1lv Enchantment, +2 Intelligence, +2 Spirit.
Note: The staff is two meters long! Tiny wizards, beware!
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All the options seemed decent—so which one should he pick?
The Fireball Jutsu was out immediately. Spitting fire from his mouth? No thanks.
Sure, Voldemort had done something similar in his battle against Dumbledore at the Ministry of Magic, conjuring Fiendfyre with one hand. It had looked incredibly dramatic… but that was classic villain behavior.
Besides, flashy magic like that wasn't necessary for real fights. If you wanted to kill someone, there were far more efficient spells—Diffindo, Sectumsempra—no need for a massive fireball.
The Crescent Staff was tempting. Its attributes were better than his own cedar wand with a phoenix feather core.
But at over two meters long, it was far too cumbersome. Ted was only 1.56 meters tall!
Carrying that thing around would be ridiculous.
Plus, the wizarding world favored wands for a reason—many spells required one.
That left [Gravity Ball (Blue)].
Something about it intrigued him. The spell seemed inspired by "Elden Ring"—though he was only a casual observer of that game, never having played it himself.
The ability to manipulate gravity could be useful in ways beyond simple combat. It might even spark some new magical ideas.
In addition, there were the cards that had dropped from Professor Quirrell.
The man had literally given his life to teach Ted and Neville an important lesson—never trust Voldemort's promises.
And even in death, Quirrell had left behind one last card for his dear student.
While everyone else received a single reward, Ted got two.
Quirrell: Ted, this is my last gift…
Two blue-framed cards.
The first one showed shelves lined with glass jars containing magical creatures.
A figure resembling Professor Quirrell was hunched over a workbench, immersed in his research.
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[Professor Quirrell's Magical Bloodline Transformation Research (Blue)]
Spell Card
Grants access to over 20 years of Professor Quirrell's studies on magical creature blood.
+lv2 Magizoology, +lv2 Bloodline Transformation
Uses: 1/1
Note: Magizoology and Bloodline Transformation cannot exceed lv5.
Note: Some content is too dark and disturbing for young minds.
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Look at that—Quirrell had generously donated his life's work!
Though… Ted wasn't quite sure how useful it would be.
Professor Quirrell was a tragic figure, really. If he had just taken a step back, spent a few years refining his research, he might have actually created some powerful magical creatures.
But that was never an option. Voldemort never gave him the chance—never cared about his research in the first place.
The second card Quirrell dropped featured an eerie image: a pale, noseless face shrouded in swirling black smoke.
Voldemort.
Why does this guy always have to be so dramatic?
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[Dark Magic Research (Blue)]
Spell Card
Use to gain a small portion of Voldemort's knowledge and research on dark magic.
+lv3 Dark Magic
Uses: 1/1
Note: Cannot exceed Dark Magic lv6.
Note: Studying dark magic comes with risks. Proceed with caution.
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Well, well. Just a small amount of Voldemort's research already matched Quirrell's entire life's work. No wonder Voldemort dismissed him so easily.
Or maybe that wasn't quite right.
After using [Professor Quirrell's Magical Bloodline Transformation Research (Blue)], Ted saw glimpses of how Quirrell had started down his twisted path.
In terms of magical bloodline modifications and creature transformations, the man was an absolute genius.
But somewhere along the way, his choices had doomed him.
And really, it had all been decided years ago.
Back when Quirrell was still a student, he had stumbled upon a mysterious text on magical bloodlines inside a dusty cabinet in the Room of Requirement.
The book had been hidden near an ugly statue of a wizard, a crown perched crookedly on its head.
A crown…
Ted's stomach twisted.
Oh.
That ugly statue hadn't just been a statue, had it? And that book on magical bloodlines?
That had been left behind by Tom Riddle himself, years before Quirrell ever set foot in the castle.
It was no wonder that, when Quirrell hit a dead end in his research, he went searching for Voldemort in Albania.
He had been following his trail all along, without even knowing it.
Ted shivered and forced himself to shake it off. He wasn't about to go digging around for that crown anytime soon. Some things were better left alone.
Using [Dark Magic Research (Blue)] only solidified that feeling.
Even with just a fraction of Voldemort's research, Ted could already see the horrifying risks.
Dark magic wasn't just dangerous—it was a death trap.
One wrong step, and even Voldemort wouldn't have survived.
This wasn't a path you walked lightly.
And then there were Horcruxes. The absolute peak of dark magic. Messing with the soul itself.
Yeah. No thanks. He wasn't touching that cursed crown. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Still, the cards had done their work. After absorbing their knowledge, Ted's Bloodline Modification hit lv2, Magical Biology reached lv4, and Dark Magic surged to lv5. That was already matching his raw magical power.
No wonder dark magic was so tempting. This kind of progress? It was insane.
But the process…
Even just seeing some of the memories embedded in the cards made Ted's stomach churn.
Quirrell's experiments had mostly been on magical creatures, but Voldemort? He had used humans.
It was like watching some twisted, real-life horror movie.
If Ted wasn't mentally strong, he doubted he'd be able to sleep for a week after this.
Dark magic wasn't just dangerous. It was horrifying.
And finally, it was time for the real prize of the night—the reward from [Can I Touch Your Philosopher's Stone? (Red)].
Just the experience points alone were absurd.
1,200 XP from the Philosopher's Stone quest.
300 XP from [Breakthrough the Game (Blue)].
200 XP from [The Corridor on the Third Floor, Right? (Green)].
2,500 XP for the three trolls.
210 XP for the three-headed dog.
1,500 XP for Professor Voldy Quirrell.
Nearly 6,000 XP in one night. That was more than he had earned all semester.
So this is why people say crime pays.
On top of that, the quest had also granted him +lv1 Alchemy.
He had read about alchemy before, but Hogwarts didn't actually teach it.
The subject was mostly studied at Beauxbatons, since Nicolas Flamel was French, or in Egypt, where alchemy had ancient roots.
And then, there was the most valuable reward of them all: a red-bordered card.
The image on the card showed a small, dark red stone, strung on a thin piece of cord. A faint blue magic sigil pulsed on its surface.
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[False Philosopher's Stone (Red)]
Item Card
Wear: +lv2 Magical Power
Wear: +lv1 Alchemy
Wear: +2 Constitution
Wear: +2 Spirit
Wear: Greatly increases health and mana regeneration.
Use: Can permanently transmute up to 100 grams of base metal into gold per month.
Note: A mere imitation of a true masterpiece of alchemy.
____________________
Ted's first thought:
'I'll never be broke again.'
The +2 Constitution and +2 Spirit were amazing stat boosts, but the +lv2 Magical Power? That was huge.
And the passive healing and mana regeneration? That was game-changing. He'd be recovering from injuries and spellcasting much faster than normal.
Ted carefully examined the strange necklace before slipping it around his neck. The moment it made contact with his skin, a surge of magic coursed through his body like a tidal wave.
"Boom, boom, boom—"
The entire dormitory trembled violently. Objects rattled, books tumbled from their shelves, and the windows shook in their frames.
"What the—?!"
"Is that an earthquake?!"
"Run!"
His roommates bolted upright, wide-eyed and panicked. Anthony was already halfway to the door when Ted quickly intervened.
"Relax, relax!" he said in a soothing voice, waving his hands. "It's just a dream… You're all just dreaming… Nice and sleepy now… There we go… Sleep~ Good baby~ Sleep…"
With a subtle push of his psychic abilities, his friends blinked in confusion before flopping back onto their pillows, drifting off into a peaceful slumber.
Ted exhaled, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "Whew. Crisis averted."
The side effects of leveling up magic power were becoming more extreme.
This time, with the sudden boost of +2 from the False Philosopher's Stone , the resulting magic surge had been intense.
Magic Power Level: 5 → +1 from wand +2 from the stone = 8.
That kind of jump wasn't normal. To put it into perspective, only the most prodigious heirs of the ancient magical families reached that level in their prime, if at all.
Many wizards never even came close in their entire lifetimes.
Ted was pretty sure that, as a first-year, he had already surpassed Voldemort's magical prowess at the same age.
Even if the Dark Lord had been terrifyingly gifted, he probably didn't hit this level until at least his fifth or sixth year at Hogwarts.
Of course, the boost was only active while wearing the necklace and using his wand.
Once removed, he'd revert to his normal strength—but still, this was insane progress.
The most shocking part? His mana regeneration had skyrocketed. It was nearly ten times faster than before.
He could literally feel his magic replenishing at a rapid pace.
"Whoo... Guess I won't be running out of magic anytime soon!"
Meanwhile, across the castle, Dumbledore stood in the remains of last night's battlefield.
The charred remains of the troll, the lingering traces of violent magical energy—he took it all in, his sharp eyes filled with thought.
He had always known that Voldemort sought to create a successor, someone to continue his dark legacy.
But now, the Headmaster found himself pondering something far more concerning.
A third Dark Lord? Was another rising already?
The next morning, Ted's roommates were still reeling from the night's events.
Anthony Goldstein groaned, stretching. "Ugh, I had the worst nightmare last night."
Terry Boot rubbed his eyes. "Yeah? Funny coincidence—I had a nightmare too."
Michael Corner yawned. "Weird. Mine was about an earthquake."
Anthony froze. "Wait a second… I dreamt about an earthquake too!"
The three boys looked at each other, alarmed.
Ted, munching on toast, waved dismissively. "Oh, would you look at that? A shared dream. Fascinating. Now hurry up and eat, we've got a long day ahead!"
By breakfast, rumors had spread like wildfire. After all, asking Gryffindors to not gossip was like asking Peeves to behave—it just wasn't happening.
Most of the Great Hall already knew that something big had happened last night. They just didn't have the details.
That's where Ron came in.
With a dramatic slap to his thigh, he declared, "Did you hear?! My leg's still sore today. See that? That's an injury from battling the Dark Lord himself!"
Jerry, biting into a piece of cheese, raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you just trip over yourself?"
The group erupted into chuckles, but Ron remained steadfast, crossing his arms. "Oi! It's still the same leg that was injured during the fight! Do you want the story or not?"
Everyone quickly apologized, eager to hear more.
Ted just sighed, sipping his pumpkin juice. At this rate, Ron's going to end up as Hogwarts' most legendary storyteller…
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Word count: 2638
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