When Dumbledore raised the Sorcerer's Stone above his head, there was no dramatic sound, nor were there any dazzling special effects.
The dark red stone simply began to disintegrate. It turned into countless microscopic particles, drifting away like fine sand caught in a gentle breeze, quietly vanishing into the damp dungeon air.
To the naked eye, the scene was so remarkably plain it bordered on boring. It completely lacked the theatrical flair one would naturally expect from the destruction of the legendary Sorcerer's Stone.
However, through Maurise's magical senses, the picture was entirely different.
An indescribable, practically infinite torrent of raw magical energy erupted violently from within that tiny stone, washing over the entire chamber in a massive tidal wave. The sheer, overwhelming force of the magical shockwave battered his senses, leaving him feeling slightly dizzy and nauseated.
"I suppose you have some other motive for watching this, Maurise?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, his hands still raised toward the ceiling.
"Not at all." Maurise shook his head innocently. Then, as if a brilliant idea had just magically struck him, he added, "Actually, maybe I do."
He extended his right hand, palm facing up, his fingers spread wide. "Energy Convergence."
In a split second, the massive waves of dissipating magic seemed to find a guiding beacon. The raw power rapidly surged toward his open palm, swirling into a concentrated vortex.
Maurise had never attempted to condense this much magical energy in a single breath. Under the crushing pressure of the surging power, cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and his arm began to tremble uncontrollably.
After about thirty grueling seconds, the physical form of the Stone vanished entirely, and Maurise finally let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Resting heavily in his hand was a translucent white crystal, roughly half the size of a fist. It pulsed with a warm, gentle, and deeply powerful glow.
Dumbledore walked over and examined the energy crystal, making no effort to hide his immense curiosity. "Astonishing. Maurise, what exactly did you just do?"
"Just a bit of recycling, Professor," Maurise replied, holding the crystal up to the light to inspect its flawless facets. "This is the raw magical energy that spilled out during the Stone's destruction. I simply gathered it up and compressed it. Unfortunately, I could only condense this small amount. The rest scattered to the winds."
He paused for a moment before clarifying further. "Do not worry, though. It has lost all the original alchemical functions of the Sorcerer's Stone. Right now, it is nothing more than a highly concentrated battery of pure magic."
Dumbledore gave a slow, measured nod, his bright blue eyes lingering on the nearly transparent crystal. He did not press Maurise for the exact mechanics of the spell, nor did he offer any moral lectures on hoarding magical artifacts. He simply said with the utmost sincerity, "I trust you will put this magic to good use, Maurise."
Oh?
Maurise shot the Headmaster a highly surprised look. Honestly, he had fully expected Dumbledore to confiscate the crystal on the spot, considering it was technically a remnant of an incredibly dangerous item.
That was exactly why Maurise had played it smart. He had kept his left hand buried deep inside his robe pocket the entire time, secretly condensing a second, backup energy crystal just in case the Headmaster tried to play the responsible adult card.
It seemed Dumbledore's tolerance for his eccentricities was far greater than he had anticipated.
"It is getting terribly late," Dumbledore noted, glancing over at Harry, who was still snoozing peacefully on the conjured floor pillow. "Could I trouble you to carry Harry up to Madam Pomfrey? I believe he requires medical attention as soon as possible, and a young man's legs are bound to be much swifter than mine."
"Absolutely," Maurise agreed briskly.
"Off you go, then," Dumbledore instructed mildly.
Dumbledore turned and walked over to Quirrell's rapidly cooling corpse near the wall. He immediately spotted the incredibly distinct, muddy boot print stamped right in the middle of the grotesque face on the back of the professor's head.
Was Maurise exceptionally brave, or just spectacularly brazen?
Meanwhile, Maurise dismissed his skeletal unicorn, cast a quick Hover Charm on Harry, and swiftly exited the chamber. When he reached the giant chessboard room, he considerately scooped up the unconscious Ron as well. Leaving the poor boy to sleep on the cold stone floor all night just felt a bit too cruel.
Back in the final chamber, Dumbledore stood quietly beside Quirrell's body, staring blankly in the direction Maurise had vanished. He remained motionless for nearly five minutes before letting out a barely audible sigh.
Maurise Black. A student he simply could not figure out.
"What will become of him?" Dumbledore murmured softly, his words dissolving into the stagnant dungeon air.
---
The school year finally drew to a close.
Over the next few days, the student body somehow caught wind of Harry Potter's harrowing midnight adventure. Naturally, the story had undergone some heavy editorial revisions and dramatic simplifications by the Hogwarts rumor mill.
The generally accepted version went something like this: The evil Professor Quirrell tried to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, but the incredibly brave Harry Potter and his two trusty sidekicks thwarted the villain's dastardly plot, suffering heroic injuries in the process.
Consequently, Harry, who was still recovering in the hospital wing, received an absolute mountain of get-well gifts and sweets from his adoring peers.
In other news, the final Quidditch match of the season concluded with a resounding victory for Ravenclaw. Definitely a reason to celebrate.
Maurise spent the next few days in a state of blissful relaxation. The Sorcerer's Stone had ended up in his hands, albeit in a slightly different format, leaving him with zero regrets for his first year at Hogwarts.
At long last, the End-of-Year Feast arrived.
The Great Hall was decked out in shimmering green and silver banners, proudly signaling that Slytherin had officially won the House Cup.
"We were so close," Cho Chang sighed wistfully, sitting next to Maurise at the Ravenclaw table. "If only we had managed to scrape together a few more points. Still, second place for Ravenclaw is not too shabby."
Kyle, sitting across the table, nodded in agreement and looked at Maurise. "I seem to recall you earning quite a pile of points for us this year, Maurise. Professor Flitwick practically threw points at you every single Charms class."
Maurise lazily rolled two perfectly round little spheres between his fingers under the table. "I earned a lot, but I also lost a lot. It pretty much balanced out in the end."
At the very least, he had not actively dragged his House down into the negatives.
Cho Chang perked up, her curiosity piqued. "Lost points? What for?" Being a second-year, she wasn't entirely up to date on first-year classroom gossip.
Kyle let out a long, suffering sigh and answered for him. "Skipping classes. And being chronically late."
Maurise shrugged unapologetically. "It is unfortunate. The professors always seem to schedule their lessons right when I am in the middle of a fascinating magical breakthrough."
Cho Chang blinked. "I am fairly certain you have that completely backward."
Just then, Dumbledore's booming, cheerful voice echoed from the High Table, cutting through the chatter.
"Another year gone! And before we sink our teeth into this delicious feast, I must trouble you all with an old man's rambling nonsense..."
As Maurise half-listened to the speech, he glanced down at the two little spheres in his hand. These were, of course, the energy crystals he had forged from the dying breath of the Sorcerer's Stone.
If his calculations were correct, they were essentially supercharged versions of his usual void energy crystals. What should he do with them? He wondered if they packed enough punch to fuel Tin's next undead evolutionary ritual. He decided he would run some extensive experimental tests during the summer holidays.
"...which means, we need a slight change of decoration in here."
Suddenly, Maurise realized the entire Great Hall was erupting into deafening cheers. He looked up and saw that the Slytherin green and silver banners had magically shifted into Gryffindor red and gold.
It did not take a genius to figure out what had just happened. Dumbledore had casually dumped a massive mountain of last-minute points onto Gryffindor, forcefully snatching the House Cup right out of Slytherin's hands.
Their esteemed Headmaster truly possessed a breathtakingly shameless level of favoritism.