Snape returned quickly.

However…

When he pushed open the office door again, only a trembling Quirrell followed behind him.

“Old Avery just arrived. He’s in the infirmary now,” Snape explained. “He said his son was hit by the Imperius Curse and needs rest. He’ll bring him personally tomorrow morning.”

Dumbledore heard this and patted his forehead. “Oh, that was an oversight on my part!”

As he spoke, his gaze shifted to Quirrell, who was standing properly behind Snape.

“P-Professor D-Dumbledore, I h-heard you were looking for me?” Quirrell stammered nervously.

“Oh, don’t be nervous, Quirinus,” Dumbledore replied with a warm smile.

“It’s just that Professor Sprout keeps complaining to me about the slow pace of Defense Against the Dark Arts. And now, with another student being attacked in the castle without a fight… I wanted to hear your thoughts.”

“I-I’m terribly s-sorry!”

Quirrell looked distressed and hurriedly tried to explain himself. “I-I was c-cursed… by a v-vampire… that’s why…”

“A vampire’s curse? Hah! I’ve never heard such nonsense,” Snape cut him off with a sneer.

“It-it’s t-true!”

Quirrell grew more anxious.

Realizing he couldn’t get the words out clearly, he bit his lip and shakily removed his purple turban.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes.

Dawn, standing nearby, also took a step back, silently raising his guard.

But to his surprise—

There was no hideous noseless snake-like face on the back of Quirrell’s head.

Instead…

There was a patch of festering, rotting flesh filled with pus!

Voldemort… was gone?!

Dawn stared at the back of Quirrell’s head.

Pale yellow pus dripped down, releasing an intensely foul stench.

Snape frowned, covering his lower face with his sleeve and casting a Fresh Air charm.

“P-Professor Dumbledore, I-I didn’t lie! I really was c-cursed by a vampire!” Quirrell’s face was deathly pale, looking as if he were about to cry.

Dumbledore stood from his seat, speaking in a gentler tone. “Relax, Quirinus… let me take a look.”

He walked over, gently touching his wand to the back of Quirrell’s head with his eyes closed, sensing something.

“Such a vicious curse.”

After a moment, Dumbledore opened his eyes. “A form of dark magic is causing your soul to slowly rot. And only blood can slow the process!”

He paused before asking, “Quirinus, have you been drinking blood?”

“Y-yes… unicorn blood… I-I thought it might lift the curse, so I…”

Quirrell shivered violently.

Dumbledore shook his head. “That was a terrible idea. Though unicorns are known for their purity, their blood…”

He trailed off with a sigh.

Snape frowned and interjected, “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“I-I didn’t want to l-lose my job. I-I need money… to buy blood.”

Quirrell explained weakly, then turned to Dumbledore with a look of desperate hope flashing in his eyes.

“P-Professor Dumbledore, c-could you help me?”

“Calm down, Quirinus. Of course I’ll help you… but I need to think it through first. Thank you for coming—go get some rest.”

Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder.

Quirrell hesitated, then put his turban back on and walked away like a lost soul.

Bang—!

The office door shut again.

Snape asked darkly, “Dumbledore, do you believe his story?”

“At least from the curse, I can sense the unique aura of a dark magical creature.”

Dumbledore stroked his beard, his deep eyes unreadable. “And in this way, Quirinus’s past interest in the Philosopher’s Stone suddenly makes a lot more sense.”

“Convenient, isn’t it?” Snape said coldly. “Let’s just expel him, Dumbledore. A cursed man—what better reason do we need?”

“Sorry, Severus…” Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then gently shook his head.

“Hmph.”

Snape snorted, but when he glanced at Dawn beside them, he resisted the urge to argue further and turned to leave.

“Suit yourself. I’m going to the infirmary to see what old Avery is really here for.”

If you just wanted to see Harry, you could’ve said so directly… Dumbledore opened his mouth but gave a helpless chuckle.

He turned to Dawn, who had remained silent. “What’s on your mind, child?”

“…Nothing. I was just reflecting.”

Dawn returned to his senses. “So, Professor, you’re not planning to do anything about Quirrell?”

“For now, no. I haven’t found any trace of Voldemort’s presence on him.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“No, I believe you,” Dumbledore replied seriously. “But because I believe you, I think keeping Quirrell under our eyes is actually more beneficial.”

“…I see. Understood.”

Dawn was quiet for a moment, then took out his wallet and pulled something from within.

With a sigh, he gently placed it on the table.

“Then, Professor, I’m giving this to you.”

Dumbledore blinked and narrowed his eyes slightly. “This is…”

“Ravenclaw’s Diadem… or at least, something that may be important to Voldemort now. I found it in the Room of Requirement.”

Dawn watched as the old headmaster carefully picked up the crown. He sighed softly, not quite willing to let go.

He really liked this thing!

Or rather… Dawn had a habit of claiming anything good he came across!

But since Voldemort now had his eyes on him—and no longer seemed to be attached to Quirrell—keeping the diadem was no longer just greedy… it was foolish.

“Do you know what’s in this diadem?” Dumbledore asked suddenly.

“I don’t.”

Dawn didn’t admit he knew about Horcruxes. “I just sensed a dark magic presence from it, and guessed it was Voldemort’s doing.”

Dumbledore nodded, showing no reaction to the explanation, though his expression did brighten slightly.

“Thank you, Dawn. You’ve helped me confirm a long-standing suspicion… This is the only good news I’ve had all Halloween.”

Dawn looked at him. “Professor, are you going to destroy it?”

“If necessary, yes.”

“Will the diadem survive?”

“Oh, my boy, that’s unlikely.”

Dumbledore gently rubbed the engraving on the diadem’s side. After a moment, he shook his head.

“Rowena Ravenclaw’s treasure has been thoroughly tainted by Tom’s magic.”

“…Then, may I ask you to hold onto it for now?”

Dawn hesitated, then said, “Maybe, in the future, there’ll be a way to preserve the diadem completely.”

He was thinking that once he discovered a method of permanent transfiguration, he could try separating Voldemort’s soul from the crown by turning it into a solid object.

“Of course. You found it, after all,” Dumbledore agreed without hesitation. “I promise, unless it becomes absolutely necessary, I’ll keep it safe.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep