Hogwarts: From Little Wizard to White Lord

Before he had gained enough experience, Peter had never even considered the idea of facing Voldemort alone.

But that didn't mean he was going to abandon the mission.

The system quest only said to "save the Forbidden Forest unicorn." It didn't say he had to do it all by himself!

This was Hogwarts.

Dumbledore was here.

Why in Merlin's name would anyone be foolish enough to face Voldemort alone when Albus Dumbledore was just upstairs?

By the time evening rolled around, Peter and Hagrid had walked for hours before finally exiting the Forbidden Forest. They parted ways outside Hagrid's hut.

Peter took a moment to compose himself.

He adjusted his expression to appear serious and slightly anxious, as if something grave had just happened.

Then, he went straight to find Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Weasley, what's "

"Professor, please take me to see Headmaster Dumbledore. I have something very important to report."

Professor McGonagall was taken aback by his expression. His urgency left her momentarily stunned, but after a long pause, she nodded and led him toward the eighth floor.

As Deputy Headmistress, she naturally knew the password to the headmaster's office.

"Chocolate Frog!"

The stone gargoyle sprang aside, and together they ascended the spiral staircase that led to the top.

This was Peter's first time inside Dumbledore's office.

The round chamber was warmly lit and inviting, like springtime bottled in stone.

Directly ahead stood a spiral staircase leading even higher likely to Dumbledore's private quarters.

A large semicircular bookshelf stretched along one wall, stuffed with books and curious alchemical instruments that buzzed faintly with magical energy.

The long desk beneath the grand window was cluttered with parchment, trinkets, and odd gadgets that blinked or ticked softly.

In one corner stood a perch. Resting on it with eyes gently closed was Fawkes, the majestic phoenix.

At the sound of visitors, Fawkes opened his eyes, his gaze calm and wise. From the walls, the portraits of previous headmasters stirred and murmured to each other.

"Look at that our Slytherin prodigy has arrived. How splendid," one portrait remarked with a hint of surprise.

Peter glanced toward the voice and guessed correctly it was most likely Phineas Nigellus Black, the only known Slytherin to serve as headmaster.

He also happened to be the most unpopular one in Hogwarts history.

And to make matters worse, the Black family line had nearly died out.

Peter offered a polite nod in greeting, then turned his attention to the fireplace.

There, seated in a tall armchair in front of the hearth, was Dumbledore himself.

He was wearing his usual pink-and-purple robes and was quietly knitting.

The rhythmic clacking of his needles filled the space with a soft, pleasant sound.

"Ah, Minerva. Mr. Weasley. Good evening," he said, not looking up just yet. "Perfect timing. Would you mind helping me check this knitting pattern? I spent ages browsing in a Muggle shopping center the day before yesterday. Nearly lost my mind deciding which one to buy..."

"Ahem, Albus!" McGonagall interjected sharply.

Professor McGonagall gave Dumbledore a sharp look.

"Mr. Weasley says he has something important to discuss with you."

Dumbledore turned his curious gaze to Peter.

From Dumbledore's perspective, their last conversation hadn't been exactly pleasant. Peter, firm in his own beliefs, had politely but firmly turned down his offer something Dumbledore had not expected. He had assumed the boy would avoid him for quite some time afterward.

But now here he was.

Peter gave a small nod and, under the combined gaze of Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, and the watching portraits, he reached into his enchanted satchel, pulled out the small bottle, and placed it gently on the headmaster's desk.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Weasley, what is this?"

"Unicorn blood, Headmaster."

With that, Peter took out his wand and cast a revealing spell.

The scene from the Forbidden Forest appeared once again. As the silver-white glow shimmered to life and strands of gray mist twisted within it, several portraits gasped audibly in shock.

The light expression on Dumbledore's face vanished.

He stood slowly, approached the desk, and leaned over the bottle of soil, his expression grave. Without looking away, he raised a hand and said calmly to Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, you may leave us for now. It seems Mr. Weasley truly has brought me something urgent."

McGonagall hesitated for a moment, then nodded and quietly left the room.

Only once the door had clicked shut did Dumbledore straighten and look Peter directly in the eye.

"Where did you find this, Mr. Weasley?"

His eyes sharp and ageless seemed to shine with a light that could pierce through one's very soul.

Legilimency? Peter recognized it immediately.

Thanks to his constant practice in Occlumency, he could feel the faint magical pressure radiating from Dumbledore's gaze. But the magic didn't invade his mind. It lingered gently around the edges, as though testing the waters.

So he's not trying to read my mind outright... just trying to sense my emotions and truthfulness.

Peter stayed calm and replied steadily, "In the Forbidden Forest."

He went on to recount his visit to Hagrid that day and how he had "accidentally" discovered that something was wrong with the unicorn's blood. He described the dark magical residue, the abnormalities in the clearing, and the unnatural quality of the lingering energy.

"...Even if it were a werewolf or another wild creature, none of them could possibly use dark magic to harm a unicorn. Only a wizard could do something like that."

"You see, I've been working with potions for quite a while now. And although unicorn blood is cursed, history is filled with people desperate enough to try and use it in potion-making. Those potions are usually..."

"...The Elixir of Immortality," Dumbledore murmured, completing the sentence softly.

Then, with a graceful motion, he lifted his hand not using his wand, not speaking a word and reached toward the floating mist above the bottle.

His fingers passed through the silvery-white glow and grasped the drifting strands of gray mist.

Peter watched in awe.

There had been no chant, no incantation, not even a hint of visible magical energy. And yet the spell was complete. The technique was flawless.

Dumbledore examined the mist in silence for a long moment.

Finally, he waved his hand, dispersing the dark residue into the air like smoke, and turned to Peter with a look of quiet seriousness.

"This is a very important discovery, Mr. Weasley. But I must visit the site myself to confirm it."

He extended one hand upward.

"Fawkes!"

Fawkes the phoenix let out a soft trill, then gracefully took flight and landed on Dumbledore's outstretched arm.

"Mr. Weasley, there are sweets and biscuits on the table. Please wait here. I'll be back shortly."

And with that, Dumbledore vanished.

Peter wasn't surprised. Hogwarts might have anti-Disapparition enchantments in place, but those spells didn't restrict magical beings like phoenixes or house-elves. With Fawkes aiding him, Dumbledore could come and go as he pleased.

Not one to waste time, Peter made his way behind the large desk and helped himself to a few pieces of chocolate from a floating candy dish. He had walked most of the day and hadn't realized how hungry he'd become.

As he nibbled, a voice floated toward him from among the whispering portraits.

"Oi, Weasley boy."

Peter looked up.

It was Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black.

The brooding old man gave him a sly wink and said in a low tone, "You spotted the dark magic in unicorn blood, didn't you? You're not just a harmless little student, are you? Oh, don't give me that look. I've never had anything against dark magic. In fact, I'm rather pleased someone's finally taking it seriously again. What's a Slytherin without a little darkness, eh?"

"I just want to make a deal with you."

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice even more. "Would you like to learn more about the true power of darkness? If you do me a small favor, I'll tell you where the old Black family estate is. Merlin's beard, the amount of forbidden magic stored in that place would make your head spin. Cursed grimoires, ancient enchantments "

Before he could finish, another portrait sprang to life.

An old wizard with a long, snow-white beard burst into the frame, launched himself at Phineas, and promptly tackled him to the ground inside the painting.

"You disgraceful scoundrel! Useless when you were alive, and now you want to ruin the children even after death? I'll knock the nonsense right out of you!"

"Teacher! Teacher have you lost your mind? I'm already dead, how exactly are you going to beat me to death again?"

The two portraits began brawling furiously.

The other headmasters looked on with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Peter, meanwhile, sat back in his chair, munching on chocolate and watching the chaos unfold with mild curiosity.

It was shaping up to be a very entertaining evening.

Before he had gained enough experience, Peter had never even considered the idea of facing Voldemort alone.

But that didn't mean he was going to abandon the mission.

The system quest only said to "save the Forbidden Forest unicorn." It didn't say he had to do it all by himself!

This was Hogwarts.

Dumbledore was here.

Why in Merlin's name would anyone be foolish enough to face Voldemort alone when Albus Dumbledore was just upstairs?

By the time evening rolled around, Peter and Hagrid had walked for hours before finally exiting the Forbidden Forest. They parted ways outside Hagrid's hut.

Peter took a moment to compose himself.

He adjusted his expression to appear serious and slightly anxious, as if something grave had just happened.

Then, he went straight to find Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Weasley, what's "

"Professor, please take me to see Headmaster Dumbledore. I have something very important to report."

Professor McGonagall was taken aback by his expression. His urgency left her momentarily stunned, but after a long pause, she nodded and led him toward the eighth floor.

As Deputy Headmistress, she naturally knew the password to the headmaster's office.

"Chocolate Frog!"

The stone gargoyle sprang aside, and together they ascended the spiral staircase that led to the top.

This was Peter's first time inside Dumbledore's office.

The round chamber was warmly lit and inviting, like springtime bottled in stone.

Directly ahead stood a spiral staircase leading even higher likely to Dumbledore's private quarters.

A large semicircular bookshelf stretched along one wall, stuffed with books and curious alchemical instruments that buzzed faintly with magical energy.

The long desk beneath the grand window was cluttered with parchment, trinkets, and odd gadgets that blinked or ticked softly.

In one corner stood a perch. Resting on it with eyes gently closed was Fawkes, the majestic phoenix.

At the sound of visitors, Fawkes opened his eyes, his gaze calm and wise. From the walls, the portraits of previous headmasters stirred and murmured to each other.

"Look at that our Slytherin prodigy has arrived. How splendid," one portrait remarked with a hint of surprise.

Peter glanced toward the voice and guessed correctly it was most likely Phineas Nigellus Black, the only known Slytherin to serve as headmaster.

He also happened to be the most unpopular one in Hogwarts history.

And to make matters worse, the Black family line had nearly died out.

Peter offered a polite nod in greeting, then turned his attention to the fireplace.

There, seated in a tall armchair in front of the hearth, was Dumbledore himself.

He was wearing his usual pink-and-purple robes and was quietly knitting.

The rhythmic clacking of his needles filled the space with a soft, pleasant sound.

"Ah, Minerva. Mr. Weasley. Good evening," he said, not looking up just yet. "Perfect timing. Would you mind helping me check this knitting pattern? I spent ages browsing in a Muggle shopping center the day before yesterday. Nearly lost my mind deciding which one to buy..."

"Ahem, Albus!" McGonagall interjected sharply.

Professor McGonagall gave Dumbledore a sharp look.

"Mr. Weasley says he has something important to discuss with you."

Dumbledore turned his curious gaze to Peter.

From Dumbledore's perspective, their last conversation hadn't been exactly pleasant. Peter, firm in his own beliefs, had politely but firmly turned down his offer something Dumbledore had not expected. He had assumed the boy would avoid him for quite some time afterward.

But now here he was.

Peter gave a small nod and, under the combined gaze of Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, and the watching portraits, he reached into his enchanted satchel, pulled out the small bottle, and placed it gently on the headmaster's desk.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Weasley, what is this?"

"Unicorn blood, Headmaster."

With that, Peter took out his wand and cast a revealing spell.

The scene from the Forbidden Forest appeared once again. As the silver-white glow shimmered to life and strands of gray mist twisted within it, several portraits gasped audibly in shock.

The light expression on Dumbledore's face vanished.

He stood slowly, approached the desk, and leaned over the bottle of soil, his expression grave. Without looking away, he raised a hand and said calmly to Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, you may leave us for now. It seems Mr. Weasley truly has brought me something urgent."

McGonagall hesitated for a moment, then nodded and quietly left the room.

Only once the door had clicked shut did Dumbledore straighten and look Peter directly in the eye.

"Where did you find this, Mr. Weasley?"

His eyes sharp and ageless seemed to shine with a light that could pierce through one's very soul.

Legilimency? Peter recognized it immediately.

Thanks to his constant practice in Occlumency, he could feel the faint magical pressure radiating from Dumbledore's gaze. But the magic didn't invade his mind. It lingered gently around the edges, as though testing the waters.

So he's not trying to read my mind outright... just trying to sense my emotions and truthfulness.

Peter stayed calm and replied steadily, "In the Forbidden Forest."

He went on to recount his visit to Hagrid that day and how he had "accidentally" discovered that something was wrong with the unicorn's blood. He described the dark magical residue, the abnormalities in the clearing, and the unnatural quality of the lingering energy.

"...Even if it were a werewolf or another wild creature, none of them could possibly use dark magic to harm a unicorn. Only a wizard could do something like that."

"You see, I've been working with potions for quite a while now. And although unicorn blood is cursed, history is filled with people desperate enough to try and use it in potion-making. Those potions are usually..."

"...The Elixir of Immortality," Dumbledore murmured, completing the sentence softly.

Then, with a graceful motion, he lifted his hand not using his wand, not speaking a word and reached toward the floating mist above the bottle.

His fingers passed through the silvery-white glow and grasped the drifting strands of gray mist.

Peter watched in awe.

There had been no chant, no incantation, not even a hint of visible magical energy. And yet the spell was complete. The technique was flawless.

Dumbledore examined the mist in silence for a long moment.

Finally, he waved his hand, dispersing the dark residue into the air like smoke, and turned to Peter with a look of quiet seriousness.

"This is a very important discovery, Mr. Weasley. But I must visit the site myself to confirm it."

He extended one hand upward.

"Fawkes!"

Fawkes the phoenix let out a soft trill, then gracefully took flight and landed on Dumbledore's outstretched arm.

"Mr. Weasley, there are sweets and biscuits on the table. Please wait here. I'll be back shortly."

And with that, Dumbledore vanished.

Peter wasn't surprised. Hogwarts might have anti-Disapparition enchantments in place, but those spells didn't restrict magical beings like phoenixes or house-elves. With Fawkes aiding him, Dumbledore could come and go as he pleased.

Not one to waste time, Peter made his way behind the large desk and helped himself to a few pieces of chocolate from a floating candy dish. He had walked most of the day and hadn't realized how hungry he'd become.

As he nibbled, a voice floated toward him from among the whispering portraits.

"Oi, Weasley boy."

Peter looked up.

It was Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black.

The brooding old man gave him a sly wink and said in a low tone, "You spotted the dark magic in unicorn blood, didn't you? You're not just a harmless little student, are you? Oh, don't give me that look. I've never had anything against dark magic. In fact, I'm rather pleased someone's finally taking it seriously again. What's a Slytherin without a little darkness, eh?"

"I just want to make a deal with you."

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice even more. "Would you like to learn more about the true power of darkness? If you do me a small favor, I'll tell you where the old Black family estate is. Merlin's beard, the amount of forbidden magic stored in that place would make your head spin. Cursed grimoires, ancient enchantments "

Before he could finish, another portrait sprang to life.

An old wizard with a long, snow-white beard burst into the frame, launched himself at Phineas, and promptly tackled him to the ground inside the painting.

"You disgraceful scoundrel! Useless when you were alive, and now you want to ruin the children even after death? I'll knock the nonsense right out of you!"

"Teacher! Teacher have you lost your mind? I'm already dead, how exactly are you going to beat me to death again?"

The two portraits began brawling furiously.

The other headmasters looked on with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Peter, meanwhile, sat back in his chair, munching on chocolate and watching the chaos unfold with mild curiosity.

It was shaping up to be a very entertaining evening.