He had been discovered! Someone had actually seen through Damian's Disillusionment Charm!
The wizard standing on the marble staircase possessed striking auburn hair and a matching beard. It was Albus Dumbledore in his prime.
"Pro... Professor Dumbledore!" Damian stammered.
How could the Albus Dumbledore of 1943 possibly know him?
Damian felt a cold sweat break out across his scalp. How had the professor seen through his Disillusionment Charm? Damian hadn't even sensed the man's presence with his True Magical Perception; Dumbledore was truly terrifyingly formidable, even decades in the past.
"Damian, we've been caught! Does this mean we can't go back, meow?" Nox whispered in a panic, still tucked safely inside Damian's hood.
Damian's brain shifted into overdrive, processing the situation at lightning speed.
Wait... perhaps the 'Black' he's referring to isn't me. He suddenly remembered a crucial family detail. Damian looked almost exactly like his grandfather, Alphard Black, had in his youth.
Alphard had once mentioned that during his school days, Dumbledore was still the Transfiguration Professor. Calculating the timeline, his grandfather should be attending Hogwarts right around this period!
Furthermore, Damian recalled one of Alphard's old stories. His grandfather had once been caught by Dumbledore while sneaking out on a late-night date with Damian's grandmother.
Dumbledore had likely mistaken Damian for Alphard! After all, who would ever logically assume that the boy standing before them was actually their student's time-traveling grandson from half a century in the future?
Damian instantly cleared his thoughts, forcing a perfectly nervous expression onto his face. "Professor Dumbledore, sir! I was just... I borrowed Lina's Transfiguration notes. You know she's much better at the subject than I am."
Damian's grandmother, Lina, had been a Gryffindor and an absolute prodigy at Transfiguration, making her one of Dumbledore's favorite students. Damian had actually learned the art of Transfiguration directly from her portrait.
Dumbledore smiled slightly, his eyes twinkling. "It is getting quite late. Hurry back to bed now, so this little excursion doesn't negatively affect your classes tomorrow."
Damian nodded quickly, flashing a boyish grin. "Going back right now. Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore."
Dumbledore watched the departing boy with a fond smile. He was quite partial to this particular student. Despite being born into the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black—a family that valued blood purity above all else—Alphard had bravely chosen a Muggle-born girlfriend.
If only wizards from other pure-blood families could be like this young man and shed their deeply ingrained prejudices.
The professor knew the pressure the young Slytherin and Gryffindor couple faced was immense. To avoid the cruel judgment of their peers, they often resorted to secret, late-night dates.
However, as he turned away, Dumbledore stroked his auburn beard in mild confusion. "When did young Mr. Black start keeping a black cat?"
He shook his head. Perhaps there had been too many troubling events lately, and his attention toward his students' personal lives had waned.
Poor Hagrid had already been expelled. Dumbledore knew he had to find a way to keep the boy at Hogwarts; otherwise, it would be incredibly difficult for him to survive out in the world. As a half-giant, he wouldn't be accepted by the giant colonies, nor was he welcomed by wizarding society. Thinking of this, Dumbledore unconsciously gripped his beard a bit tighter.
Damian finally made it back to the Slytherin Common Room. Thankfully, no other accidents occurred after parting ways with the Transfiguration professor.
Still, his heart was incredibly uneasy. He had no idea if this encounter counted as affecting the Collective Consensus, or if he would be barred from returning to his original timeline.
Upon arriving at the quiet study, Merlin's painted eyes flashed brilliantly. Instantly, the canvases of every other portrait in the room were shrouded in a thick layer of magical mist.
"Was the trial successful?" Merlin asked softly.
Damian immediately voiced his pressing concerns. "The Basilisk is dead. But on my way back, I was caught by the Professor Dumbledore of this era, and he actually saw through my Disillusionment Charm!"
"However, he mistook me for my grandfather, Alphard Black," Damian explained rapidly. "I look very much like he did when he was young, and he's currently attending Hogwarts in this year. Does this count as a disruption to the Collective Consensus? Will it trap me here?"
Merlin simply responded with a reassuring smile. "Do not worry. I saw everything you've just mentioned within the currents of time long ago. It has not affected the Collective Consensus."
Damian let out a massive sigh of relief, marveling at the bizarre logic of time travel.
In this timeline, his brief encounter with Dumbledore had already been woven into history before he even decided to travel back. In fact, if he hadn't run into Dumbledore tonight, it would have likely created a splintered parallel timeline!
"Now, let me send you back," Merlin said.
The painted wizard raised his wand high, the tip emitting waves of dazzling, glowing halos. In an instant, Damian was completely enveloped in blinding white light.
A moment later, the blinding light faded. Damian found himself standing in the exact same room, but everything around him was entirely drained of color, resembling a stark black-and-white sketch.
Slowly, Merlin's portrait seemed to be touched by an invisible painter's brush, gradually regaining its original, vibrant hues. Once the color was fully restored, the portrait became active once more.
Merlin tapped his wand forward, tearing open a glowing gateway of white light. Damian stepped through the portal. In an instant, the monochrome world flooded with color.
He had successfully returned to 1991.
The other portraits in the study were still heavily shrouded in Merlin's magical mist.
As Damian regained his bearings, Merlin spoke. "You have proven your strength and capability by passing the trial of the Basilisk."
"Next, you must obtain the Philosopher's Stone," the ancient wizard instructed. "I require its immense magical reserves to send you to an even more distant past."
Damian was completely taken aback. "The Philosopher's Stone? You mean the legendary artifact created by the immortal alchemist, Nicolas Flamel?"
Merlin nodded with a slight smile. "Exactly. As I am currently just a portrait, I do not possess the raw magical power necessary to send you back a thousand years. I must borrow the power of the Stone to bridge the gap."
Damian frowned deeply. Stealing the Philosopher's Stone was going to be exponentially harder than killing a thousand-year-old Basilisk.
He knew that Flamel had recently entrusted the Stone to Dumbledore, and it was currently hidden somewhere within Hogwarts. Dumbledore was actively using it as bait to draw out the weakened spirit of Lord Voldemort. In just a few short months, a grand, dangerous climax would unfold right here in the castle.
Damian knew there was absolutely no way Dumbledore would just hand the artifact over to a student. Obtaining it meant he had to steal it right out from under the greatest wizard of the age, all without arousing a single shred of suspicion. The difficulty level was practically suicidal.
"The Stone is currently being heavily guarded by Dumbledore," Damian said, his frown deepening. "I'm afraid getting my hands on it won't be easy."
Merlin blinked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You still have time. Slytherins aren't exactly known for being strictly law-abiding; I am quite certain you will find a way."
It seemed Merlin fully expected him to figure out the heist on his own. Damian sighed. "Alright. Thank you for your help, Professor. I'll head back to my dorm now."
Merlin nodded gracefully, and the thick mist shrouding the other portraits in the room gradually dissipated into the air.
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