The Philosopher’s Stone Obtained

"May I inquire when Professor Fawley might also deign to teach an old man like myself?"

Tver looked helplessly up at Dumbledore, who stood above him. The headmaster's usually amiable demeanor was absent; instead, he regarded Tver with a detached expression, his hands hanging naturally by his sides, rhythmically tapping his thigh with his wand, exuding a scent of smoke and fire. His seemingly effortless posture bore an immense weight.

Yet within Tver, a small pride swelled—this esteemed wizard regarded him so highly, almost as if readying for battle.

He calmly stowed away his wand. Not that he could defeat Dumbledore now, and even if he could, he wouldn't dare to.

As if he were merely practicing a transformation spell, Tver casually waved at the elder.

"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore."

He then ascended step by step until he stood face to face with him.

Now, Dumbledore's indifference seemed to lessen, replaced by a hint of curiosity. His deep blue eyes locked onto Tver's, appraising each other.

"In another place, I wouldn't mind spending an entire night conversing with you, but here, I believe you owe me an explanation."

"An explanation?" Tver's eyes flickered, "What if I told you I came to save Harry, to stop Quirrell and Voldemort? Would you believe me?"

Dumbledore chuckled softly, "Believe? Of course, I believe. Harry and his friends are safe, Quirrell is dead by your hand, and Voldemort driven away. You have indeed done a great deed. If it weren't for the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket, I'd nominate you for an Order of Merlin."

His smile fading, Dumbledore took a step forward, tilting his head slightly, his gaze filled with a mix of doubt and disappointment.

"From your first day at this school, I have been watching you. I hold you in high regard, Tver. As Voldemort said, you are the most talented young man I ever met, even more gifted than myself. In just ten years, you could replace me as the strongest wizard in the world!"

"But please, do not follow the same path I once did," Dumbledore paused, "The path I took, one you could never bear the consequences of."

With a solemn tone, he added, "Give me the Philosopher's Stone. We can pretend none of this ever happened. You can remain the most beloved teacher at the school, can you not?"

However, to his great disappointment, Tver gently shook his head.

"I must take the Stone—"

Before he could finish, Dumbledore, frustrated, cut him off.

"For immortality? You are young, but one day you'll realize that eternal life is the greatest torment! Or is it for gold? Your family's wealth is already enough for a lifetime, and with your talents, you could amass even more!"

To be honest, Tver was quite moved by Dumbledore's words. He had gained another elder who cared about him. However, he could hardly admit that he was doing this to revive Voldemort's soul in the Horcrux...

Fortunately, he had a secret weapon.

"You say I could replace you in ten years, but what if I don't live that long?" After speaking, Tver lifted his right hand, allowing his robe to fall slowly due to gravity, revealing a dark mark on his wrist.

It was small, but Dumbledore caught sight of it instantly.

He swiftly extended his left hand, grasping Tver's forearm firmly and pulling the mark closer to his eyes. So close that only a few fingers could fit between them, Tver could feel the heat of his gaze, intensified by sheer focus.

Dumbledore's other hand gently touched the mark, and a wisp of black smoke emerged, following his fingertips and dissipating into the air. However, the mark did not weaken in the slightest; instead, it churned restlessly from Dumbledore's touch.

Tver subtly channeled his magic to suppress the mark again.

You really shouldn't mess with it; fifty years of my life just lost another day!

He grumbled inwardly but maintained a polite smile on his face.

"It's a curse, almost certainly fatal. How have you survived it?" Dumbledore asked with a hint of regret.

"By studying dark magic to keep it under control. Of course, my teacher has been a significant help."

Tver's smile widened; he was eager to see Dumbledore's reaction.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "The curse is contained but constantly erodes your life. Only something miraculous like the Philosopher's Stone can sustain your immense life force. However, I don't recall many wizards capable of managing such powerful dark magic. Can you tell me who your teacher is? Surely not Voldemort?"

Tver couldn't help but grin broadly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"You know him well," he said softly, "Gellert Grindelwald."

Dumbledore's face visibly stiffened, if only for a moment, and his voice grew tense.

"Isn't he supposed to be locked up in Nurmengard?"

"Being in Nurmengard doesn't prevent a teacher from teaching me some magic or helping me counter the curse."

"So, was it his idea for you to come and steal the Philosopher's Stone?"

That wasn't really his teacher's fault. Although Grindelwald knew Nicolas Flamel had the Stone, how could he, isolated as he was, know that Dumbledore now possessed it?

But indeed, the teacher had suggested Tver seek out Nicolas Flamel, which inspired him to come to Hogwarts and implement this series of plans.

"Absolutely not," Tver firmly took the blame onto himself, preserving his teacher's image, "My teacher has become much kinder. Sneaking around was my own decision."

Dumbledore scoffed, "Kind? That word has never belonged to Grindelwald!"

"It's true," Tver insisted, watching Dumbledore closely, "If you don't believe me, you could talk to him yourself. He has changed a lot."

He doubted Dumbledore would actually go and verify. According to his teacher's occasional remarks, since being imprisoned, they had never seen each other again.

Dumbledore ignored Tver's later words, glanced at him, and paced back and forth, deep in thought.

"Since the Philosopher's Stone can save your life, I can agree to give it to you. But since you are Grindelwald's student, I must ensure you haven't been corrupted by dark magic or any undesirable thoughts!"

"Are you planning to expel me from Hogwarts?" Tver asked in surprise.

"On the contrary, you couldn't leave even if you wanted to. Until I'm fully assured, you will need to visit me here every week!" Dumbledore declared sternly.

However, he didn't mention any restrictions to Tver and turned to leave.

Tver paused, puzzled; was this some form of ideological education? He quickly asked, "What about the holidays? I don't have to stay with you during the summer vacation, do I?"

"The holidays, of course, you're free!" Dumbledore's voice carried back from a distance.