Chapter 55. The Meeting
While Adrian Wesson was fretting over his own Animagus, Professor McGonagall seemed to remember something.
"Wesson," Professor McGonagall said, her tone a touch severe, "I've just remembered—Professor Dumbledore asked me to inform you that at seven o'clock this evening, please come to the Headmaster's office. There's something important he wishes to discuss with you."
Adrian froze for a moment, then nodded. "All right, Professor McGonagall, I'll be there on time."
Professor McGonagall dipped her head slightly and strode off—though not towards the castle, but towards the Black Lake.
Adrian reasonably guessed she intended to find a different spot to continue enjoying the sunshine.
As for why Dumbledore wanted to speak with him, Adrian couldn't make heads or tails of it for the moment.
Could it be that his teaching standard wasn't up to snuff? That shouldn't be; the students' evaluations of his classes were quite good.
Even taking the worst-case scenario, no matter how bad his classes were, there was still Professor Quirrell to make him look better, wasn't there?
…
At seven in the evening, Adrian was standing punctually before the door to the Headmaster's office.
"…"
Only then did he realise Professor McGonagall had forgotten to give him the password to the Headmaster's office.
He had already tried quite a few sweets' names, and not a single one had worked.
Cockroach Clusters, Liquorice Wands, fudge, Toothflossing Stringmints…
"Coconut ice cream!" a voice called out.
The gargoyle, hearing the password, slowly moved aside and revealed the spiral staircase behind it.
Adrian let out a breath and turned toward the source of the voice.
It was Professor Flitwick.
He was approaching with a light, sprightly step.
"Professor Wesson!" Professor Flitwick said in his high, thin voice. "You received Dumbledore's message as well?"
Adrian nodded.
"So did I!" Professor Flitwick beamed. "It's no easy task getting me up to the eighth floor, ha-ha. I think I'd best carry a broomstick with me at all times."
"A wise choice, Professor," Adrian chuckled.
Then the two of them stepped onto the stairs, one after the other.
"Professor Flitwick, have any other professors received the notice?" Adrian couldn't help asking as he looked at Professor Flitwick's back.
Professor Flitwick was in front and moving much faster than Adrian had expected. He glanced back and said, "Oh, certainly! I just ran into Professor Sprout on the way here—she was summoned by Dumbledore as well, though she seems to have other matters to attend to and will be a bit late."
…
Once they entered the Headmaster's office, they found Dumbledore already waiting for them.
However, it seemed a few people had yet to arrive, so Dumbledore conjured a few chairs for them first.
A short while later—
The office was nearly packed.
Hagrid, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Snape, Adrian Wesson—and Dumbledore himself.
"All right, everyone is here," Dumbledore clapped his hands, signalling for quiet.
Even so, Adrian still felt someone was staring at him.
Sure enough, when he turned his head, he found Snape with arms folded, leaning back in his chair and fixing him with a cold gaze.
"I believe there are those who shouldn't be here," Snape said, then glanced at Dumbledore. "You know whom I mean."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. He wasn't surprised that Snape would target him, but he hadn't expected the other party to voice it so directly on an occasion like this.
He had meant to wait for Snape to continue, but Dumbledore had already spoken.
"Severus," Dumbledore said mildly, "everyone here is worthy of our trust."
Then who isn't to be trusted?
Adrian thought of a certain Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
Snape's expression didn't change much; he merely gave a cold snort and looked away, as if too lazy to argue further.
Adrian had no desire to talk to him either.
Snape was just like that—he would always toss a barbed remark at you at some point. Adrian was nearly used to it by now.
Put simply, he had a sharp tongue.
When everyone's eyes turned to Dumbledore, the Headmaster cleared his throat and gave Hagrid a look. "Bring it out, Hagrid."
Hagrid nodded, rummaged in his coat pocket for a while, and took out a small pouch, which he placed on the desk before Dumbledore.
By now Adrian had his suspicions.
If the pouch didn't hold the Philosopher's Stone, what else could it be?
Sure enough, Dumbledore drew out an irregular, dark-red little stone.
"That is…" Professor McGonagall looked at the stone with a grave expression.
"This is the Philosopher's Stone, everyone," Dumbledore cut to the point without preamble. "I hope all of you can think of a way to protect this remarkable Stone."
The room fell into a brief silence.
Adrian stole a glance at Snape and found him seemingly deep in thought.
In truth, everyone wore a similar expression.
Adrian guessed that some of the professors already knew in advance what Dumbledore had in hand.
"Professor Wesson, do you have any ideas?" Unexpectedly, Dumbledore called on Adrian first.
"Ah?" Adrian looked up and, without thinking, said, "Professor, if you ask me, you might as well carry the Philosopher's Stone on your person. I can't imagine anyone daring to steal from you."
Dumbledore was taken aback, apparently not having anticipated that answer.
He paused a moment, then said slowly, "That won't do. I can't carry the Philosopher's Stone at all times, and I don't consider keeping it on any one person safe—myself included."
Having said that, Dumbledore put the Stone away again.
Professor McGonagall frowned slightly, her gaze keen on Dumbledore. "Albus, you've already come up with something, haven't you?"
Dumbledore smiled, let his eyes pass over each professor present, and nodded. "In fact, I've decided to keep the Philosopher's Stone in a room on the fourth floor. I've already arranged some basic protections there. I hope each of you will contribute your wisdom and magic to provide further safeguards for the Stone."
So that was it. Adrian nodded to himself.
It seemed he was to take Quirrell's original place.
Clearly, Dumbledore had long known that Quirrell was suspicious—or rather, that he had ulterior motives.
After all, for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, sensible people steered well clear, let alone volunteered.
As for Quirrell's original Muggle Studies class—though not valued, at least it was safe.
However, Adrian still wasn't sure whether Dumbledore knew that Voldemort was parasitising Quirrell.
After Dumbledore finished speaking, the professors began whispering among themselves.
Hagrid sidled up to Adrian, lowered his voice, and boasted, "Adrian, I've raised a three-headed dog, and it's already at Hogwarts! D'ye want ter come see it? It's a real whopper, proper impressive! I'm thinkin' of havin' it guard the Philosopher's Stone—what d'ye reckon?"
"Brilliant idea, Hagrid."
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