Who let this evil dragon into Hogwarts!

Chapter 40 Happy Cooperation

"So, Mr. Poisson, are you here to turn yourself in?"

In the headmaster's office, Dumbledore stared at Poison, who sat upright in his chair like a well-behaved child, with a strange expression.

"Don't you have any other questions?" Persson sighed slightly. He was clearly the victim, so why was everyone treating him like a terrorist?

"Marcus and his group brought this on themselves. I don't think I did anything wrong with how I handled it. Besides, I didn't come to you about this."

Seeing that Dumbledore was about to continue lecturing, Persson hurriedly took out the Fatal Codex that Quirrell had taught him and presented it to Dumbledore.

"This is..." Dumbledore's expression instantly turned serious. His imposing azure eyes swept over the contents of the book before pressing down on Persson. "Mr. Persson, I must warn you, the contents of this book are exceptionally evil and dangerous. Any research into it could result in you being sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban..."

"I know, that's why I came to find you," Persson waved his hand, indicating that the book had nothing to do with him. "Actually, rather than monitoring me every moment, I would prefer you to pay attention to the Hogwarts teaching staff."

"Did Quirrell give this to you?"

Dumbledore selectively ignored Poisson's minor accusation.

"That's right, it seems you're not completely ignorant after all." Persson recounted his experience in Quirrell's office, albeit with slight modifications.

"I'm curious about Defense Against the Dark Arts, after all, you know Slytherin isn't exactly a friendly school—"

"I'm sorry, this is my fault." Dumbledore sighed softly, a hint of guilt flashing in his eyes.

"To better protect myself," Persson ignored him and continued, "I've decided to consult Professor Quirrell, even though he doesn't usually perform very well."

"Unexpectedly, he dragged me straight to his office, yelling that how could I defend against black magic if I didn't understand it, and shoved this book into my hands. I felt something was off, so I came to find you."

"You did very well." Dumbledore nodded approvingly.

"So, what's wrong with Quirrell?" Persson asked knowingly. "Are you planning to fire him? I'd like to replace him with a more reliable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"No," Dumbledore shook his head, "I cannot dismiss Quirrell just yet."

"What? Is he a relative?" Posson deliberately provoked.

"I wish that were true..." Dumbledore smiled helplessly, his slender fingers tapping lightly on the table, seemingly caught in a dilemma.

The office fell into an inexplicable silence, with an annoying buzzing sound coming from the spinning silverware.

Persson neither spoke nor left, but simply stared intently at Dumbledore, demonstrating through his actions that he would not give up until he received an answer.

Suddenly, a "doo-doo" sound came from outside the window. A large, fiery red bird was pecking at the window in dissatisfaction, signaling to Dumbledore to let it in.

"Fox, you're back."

Dumbledore opened the window for the bird, but the bird, ungrateful, lightly pecked at the back of his hand, its magnificent tail feathers rising high, and the bird assumed a fighting stance.

"Fox, mind your manners, Mr. Persson is a guest." Dumbledore tried to persuade Fox to come in, but Fox only let out a cry that sounded both warning and panicked, and flew away from the window without looking back.

"Sorry, Fox is my pet. He's a phoenix, and he's usually quite friendly. He was probably just startled."

Perhaps it was the phoenix's panicked behavior that finally made Dumbledore realize that the person sitting in front of him was not a harmless little wizard, but a dragon capable of defeating several Aurors!

He sat down again, deciding not to hide anything any longer: "Mr. Persson, I hope you won't tell anyone what you heard today, especially not that boy Harry..."

Through Dumbledore's narration, Persson learned the information he already knew and concluded, "So, you allowed a terrorist, a guy known as the Dark Lord, to enter a school with a large number of students, just to cultivate Harry's abilities?"

Poisson's blunt description made Dumbledore blush, but he still nodded.

"That's right. Even the test you were given was actually prepared for Harry, but your strength is clearly far beyond that of a normal first-year student."

Persson couldn't help but retort, "You might as well just throw Harry into the Forbidden Forest and let him survive for a year. That would be more effective and safer too."

“It’s different,” Dumbledore explained. “According to the prophecy, Harry and Voldemort will be destined rivals, and before that, I must cultivate Harry’s courage to face Voldemort.”

"Mr. Persson, only a few people are as unafraid of Voldemort as you are. The vast majority of people don't even dare to call him by his name. I believe you are aware of this."

"Yes..." Persson nodded, thinking of Slytherin's students.

If he remembered correctly, weren't Slytherins Voldemort's base? Why were they all so terrified, even more so than Hermione, a Muggle-born wizard?

"So, I need your help," Dumbledore finally got to the point, "Under normal circumstances, I would ask you to keep your distance from Quirrell to avoid him getting hurt."

"However, your strength is clearly far beyond normal, and Voldemort is in an extremely weak state. You have enough ability to protect yourself in front of him."

"Therefore, I hope you will take the initiative to approach Voldemort and observe his every move. Since he entrusted this book to you, it means he thinks highly of you and may even trust you, which is something I cannot do."

Persson raised an eyebrow: "What an easy, fun, and harmless little task! I bet everyone would be eager to take it on..."

"It seems you've grasped the essence of Professor Snape's teachings," Dumbledore said with a wry smile, pulling out a red gem. "Do you know what this is?"

"What is this?" Persson had a vague guess in his mind, but outwardly he shook his head.

"This is the Philosopher's Stone," Dumbledore said, no longer keeping him in suspense. "It is a treasure entrusted to me by an old friend, and it is also what Voldemort has been searching for."

"I heard that you've been inquiring about magical minerals, and Charlie also told me that you once ate a cup made of mithril."

"So, I've been thinking about whether this kind of item, which contains powerful magic, could be helpful to you, for example, to your growth..."

Persson did not respond, but simply stretched out a hand, wanting to touch the Philosopher's Stone.

But Dumbledore took the Philosopher's Stone back and hid it somewhere.

"I'm sorry, I can't give it to you right now," Dumbledore said helplessly, spreading his hands. "You need bait to catch a fish, and Voldemort isn't so easily fooled."

"Moreover, although Nicolas Flamel entrusted me with the final disposal of the Philosopher's Stone, it is not my property after all, and I still have to consult the master's opinion."

Seeing that Poisson seemed ready to walk away, Dumbledore quickly assured him, "But don't worry, even if Nick disagrees, I will find you items of equal value. What do you say?"

After considering it, Poisson decided that Dumbledore's promise was still trustworthy, at least much more reliable than his own.

Given that, he seems to have no reason to refuse?

Poisson promptly extended his hand: "Then, how about a pleasant collaboration?"