Harry Potter and the Cataclysm

Carnie's attack had been flashy, but its effectiveness was… questionable.

Dumbledore had immediately seen the problem.

"The damage was completely dispersed—how much force did that even have? A simple Shield Charm could have blocked it. And the amount of magic he just burned through? Ridiculous. He even had to charge up the attack."

Conclusion: This kid needs work.

Dumbledore had instantly formed an opinion.

A single Blasting Curse would have left a hole in the wall several times deeper than that. Sure, it wouldn't have punched through the entire thing, but at least it would have dealt more focused damage. And all with just a flick of the wand—far more efficient.

But… there was something worth noting.

Carnie's magic reserves were growing at an alarming rate.

He was already approaching the level of a fourth-year student, which was far from normal for a first-year.

"How is he developing this fast?" Dumbledore mused. "It's rare to see this kind of growth in someone his age. He's not as monstrous as I was in my youth, nor as terrifying as… him. But still, he's quite unusual."

Could it be because of that other power he was using?

It was clear that, in terms of magic theory and application, Carnie still had glaring gaps. His methods were creative, but he was going down the wrong path.

"A wizard swinging around a sword… interesting. Maybe the Daily Prophet would run a story on it—if he ever became famous enough, that is."

There had been others who tried this in the past—thinking that swords were more elegant or powerful than wands.

They were dead now.

Well… in Britain, you don't just bury people anywhere. But their graves were still very much untouched.

Bottom line: This wasn't new.

Dumbledore sighed.

"Today has been… quite a productive evening. I may need to adjust my research priorities."

But then he noticed something.

"What is he doing now? Resting?"

Carnie closed his eyes.

He had never meditated in the Room of Requirement before, so Dumbledore had no idea what he was doing.

But then…

Something happened.

Carnie's magic perception activated.

Dumbledore felt it.

It was the same sensation as being stared at.

It was subtle—almost like a passing glance. But Carnie had noticed him.

And in that instant, Dumbledore knew.

"Oh?"

Carnie had already mastered magical perception?

That was supposed to be a skill taught in seventh year—and even then, most students never truly mastered it.

"Interesting…"

For a first-year to reach even the entry level of magical perception?

That was highly abnormal.

Dumbledore had been using nothing but an Invisibility Charm, no extra concealments, no magical barriers.

And yet—Carnie had found him.

Carnie opened his eyes.

"Wait a minute…"

His mind clicked.

"There's someone else in here."

His instincts screamed at him.

And without hesitation, he sprang to his feet, eyes scanning the room.

Dumbledore had a split-second to react.

"Ahem."

He coughed deliberately and stepped forward, dispelling his Invisibility Charm.

"Mr. Strann, wandering the halls past curfew is against school rules, you know?"

He smiled warmly, like a kindly old grandfather.

Carnie's brain shut down for a second.

"Ah, shit. It's the old man."

A quick mental calculation.

The Mirror of Erised was right there.

"That means he definitely knows."

For months, Carnie had been waiting for an invitation to the Headmaster's office—waiting for the moment when Dumbledore would call him in for a talk.

But nothing had happened.

"I thought I was in the clear!"

Now?

Now it was obvious that Dumbledore had been watching him for a long time.

Carnie gulped.

"Alright, no more games. Time to take the direct approach."

"Good evening, Headmaster," Carnie said mechanically.

Then, without missing a beat—

"Goodbye, Headmaster!"

He turned around to leave immediately.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"How direct. But you're not getting away that easily, my boy."

Carnie paused mid-step.

"Wait, no. If I just walk away, he'll get even more suspicious."

He turned back around.

"Do you need something, Professor?"

He kept his tone neutral.

Dumbledore's smile never wavered.

"No, my boy. Do you have anything you'd like to tell me?"

Carnie narrowed his eyes.

"He's testing me."

If Dumbledore was already suspicious, there was no point in hiding anymore.

So…

Time to bluff.

"I've been keeping a secret," Carnie said seriously.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Carnie nodded gravely.

"It's time to reveal my greatest truth."

And then—

He took a deep breath.

"I'm a Seer."

Dumbledore blinked.

"A Seer?" he repeated, tilting his head slightly.

"Yes," Carnie said, doubling down. "I have visions. I can predict the future."

Dumbledore's curiosity piqued.

"Fascinating. And what, exactly, have you foreseen?"

Carnie took another dramatic pause.

And then—

"The Horcruxes."

Dumbledore's smile disappeared.

His expression became unreadable.

"Interesting."

"What exactly have you seen?" Dumbledore asked, his tone still light, but far more serious than before.

Carnie didn't hesitate.

"I've seen all seven years of Harry's time at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly.

"And how does it end?" he asked casually.

Carnie exhaled.

"You die."

Dumbledore blinked.

"Ah."

Carnie continued.

"Snape dies. Sirius dies. And Harry—" he hesitated, then shrugged. "—Well, let's just say it's complicated."

Dumbledore thought for a moment.

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

"Ah, I see. Well, that is unfortunate."

Carnie squinted.

"Why does he look so relaxed?!

"You believe me?" he asked, frowning.

"Of course," Dumbledore said, without hesitation.

Carnie stared.

"...Then why do you look like you don't care?"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Because I'm already prepared."

Carnie's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Wait—you already know about Quirrell? You know he's hiding Voldemort on the back of his head?"

Dumbledore smiled wider.

"I do now."

Carnie facepalmed.

"This old bastard—!"

"You do realize you could just kill him, right?" Carnie said exasperatedly.

Dumbledore merely shook his head.

"Killing him would be pointless," he said simply. "He has Horcruxes. His soul is anchored."

Carnie scowled.

"Then why the hell haven't you done anything about those yet?"

Dumbledore just gave him a mysterious look.

"I wonder why."

Carnie stared.

"This motherfu—"

"Professor," Carnie sighed, rubbing his temples, "Can I at least see the Philosopher's Stone?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Of course!"

He casually reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blood-red, multi-faceted stone.

He held it up.

"Here you go."

Carnie stared.

"...Can I hold it?"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Oh! You should have said so."

He handed it over.

Carnie immediately tried channeling magic into it.

Nothing happened.

Then—

"Try using your other energy," Dumbledore suggested.

Carnie's eyes widened.

So, he did.

The moment he injected qi, the stone glowed.

A beam of golden light shot out—hitting the ground.

And when the glow faded—

A patch of the floor had turned into solid gold.

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