He just stared at me. And you know what? He never met my eyes. I always read my students' minds, because how else am I going to catch up on youth slang and look hip? And I have to be looking at their eyes to do it! He must have known! He must be plotting against me! He's probably planning mass murder right now!
"So what does he do with it?" HP asked.
"Do?" I asked, bewildered.
"Yeah, does he make elixir for children dying of cancer? Or use the gold he makes to fund research for curing children dying of cancer?"
"Oh, well, I haven't actually the foggiest," I said airily. "The point is, H, my boy, such an object would have to be well protected. In, for example, a very deadly chamber beneath the third floor corridor." The very deadly part was the most important part. By luring him to that chamber with all its deadly traps, I could engineer an "accident" for the boy and not be blamed for it. After all, he was breaking the rules, was he not? I've already moved the Mirror of Erised, in which I put the Philosopher's Stone, there for just that reason.
HP blinked. "You're telling me you're keeping the Philosopher's Stone in a school? An actual school with students who could be put in grave danger if someone tries to steal it? Like Lord V, who was already here!"
"Yes, I'm so pleased you're keeping up, H!" I said, genuinely relieved. HP has a very mixed track record in understanding things that most of us take for granted. He's quite scatterbrained at the best of times. "So doesn't that intrigue you? The idea of infinite wealth, immortality?"
"No," HP no doubt lied. "It really, really doesn't. I've got homework to do, auditions to hold, and I've really got to find out just what ON is up to. Infinite money's not going to help me with any of it, and immortality certainly won't either!" Professor ON is our new potions teacher, a pleasant enough man, but without the joie de vivre of his predecessor, my close friend SS. "The man is pure evil!"
I scoffed. Try to turn me against one of my most trusted teachers. It won't work. "Professor ON is not evil, H. Why, he was one of the ones who created the defenses for guarding the Philosopher's Stone."
At this, HP finally looked intrigued. "Did he really? How interesting."
"HP, my boy, I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot," I told him. "You caught me on a very bad day when you first came to see me. I'm normally much more on the ball." He nodded cautiously. "This school is the safest place in Britain and if you have any concerns, you can come to me."
"Of course it is," HP said no doubt entirely sincerely and I was very relieved to see he was now coming around. "That's why I've gotten attacked by a murderous teacher and a troll got into the place."
"Exactly!" I said, clapping my hands in delight. I really feel like I'm getting through to HP. It's such a shame he's going to have to die to serve the greater good. But you know what? I'm going to miss him when he's gone.
As if trying to contradict me, HP's next gambit to avoid my Legilimancy probe was to place his hand over his face. "You're just the worst," he muttered. "Have the cops found anything about how Q got involved with V? Does he have more accomplices out there?"
I laughed. "Oh, H, dear boy, you're such a jokester, just like your father. As if I would call the Aurors over a silly trifle such as that which occurred at Halloween."
He looked at me like I'd lost my marbles. I recognized that look because I keep getting it for some unaccountable reason. "Professor, a troll got into the school. A professor tried to murder me. An older student got hurt in the crossfire. I ended up in the hospital wing. I was dead for two minutes. If that's a trifle, I'm a little scared of what you think of as serious."
I sighed. It was hard work being entirely surrounded by idiots. "Harry, there was no troll. It was just a ruse. RH assured me he searched the school from top to bottom and found nothing." Harry nodded slowly. He believed me, which was good news because I was telling the truth. "Now as for that student, it was just a flesh wound."
"He was impaled!"
"You'll find that in the magical world, we don't take minor injuries as seriously as Muggles do because they can be healed in minutes."
"And yet I ended up in the hospital wing for a day," HP complained.
"Because you had a head injury," I said patiently. "That's extremely difficult to fix magically without causing brain damage. Hardly minor."
HP opened his mouth and then closed it. "You may actually have a point, even if you said it in the worst way possible."
"Besides, it's official Ministry policy Lord V is dead and people who have tried to claim otherwise have been persecuted," I added. "I certainly don't want to end up in St. Mungo's mental ward, especially since I have no proof."
"I can think of worse ideas," HP muttered. "Can I go now? I have homework!" The insolence! As if homework is more important than the GREATER GOOD.
I nodded in a sage fashion. "Just remember, H, whatever you do, don't go in the third floor corridor." Reverse psychology was one of the best tools in a headmaster's arsenal. "You may be tempted by the fabulous rewards therein – just think, enough money to achieve whatever ambition you want and enough time to enjoy it forever – but do restrain yourself."
"Yeah, sure, whatever," HP said, no doubt salivating internally at the thought of the immortality and riches that awaited him.
So what do you think, noble Redditors? Am I an arsehole? Or am I just a humble, brilliant headmaster trying to do what is best for magical Britain and the GREATER GOOD?
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