On a quiet weekend afternoon, Leo returned to Hogwarts from the Patron base in England with an unusually heavy heart.
The trip had left a lingering pressure on his mind. Every time he recalled the terrifying legends and mysterious powers surrounding the Old, an uncomfortable chill crept down his spine. At the same time, however, a strange curiosity continued to burn within him.
Why could that power cause his Yang God to evolve?
The question refused to leave him alone.
As he walked through the castle corridors, groups of students could be heard discussing Saturday's Quidditch semi-final qualifiers with great enthusiasm. The matches seemed to dominate every conversation around him.
Leo, however, had little interest in Quidditch beyond casual entertainment.
To be honest, he found most matches rather boring.
Besides, he already knew how everything would end.
Gryffindor and Slytherin were almost guaranteed to advance to the finals. There was little reason to waste time watching the qualifiers when he could simply attend the championship match later.
More importantly, he had far more pressing matters occupying his attention.
He needed to learn more about the Old from Master Lemaître and the Guardians. He also needed to understand how anyone was supposed to deal with such a terrifying existence before matters spiraled completely out of control.
As expected, both Gryffindor and Slytherin eventually secured their places in the finals.
While Leo wandered through the corridor, lost in thoughts about the Old and quietly pleased for his friends' success, he suddenly spotted two familiar figures ahead.
Professor Quirrell.
Professor Snape.
The two men stood near a corner of the hallway, apparently engaged in a private conversation.
The atmosphere felt strange.
Quirrell no longer carried the timid, nervous demeanor that had defined him since the start of the school year. Instead, he appeared confident and strangely composed. He seemed to be arguing with Snape without the slightest hesitation.
Even his voice sounded different.
Steadier.
Sharper.
More assured.
Leo instinctively slowed his pace.
Before he could slip away unnoticed, Quirrell suddenly turned his head.
Their eyes met.
For a brief instant, Quirrell's gaze became incredibly cold.
Oppressive.
Almost predatory.
Then he leaned toward Snape and muttered something in a low voice filled with unmistakable authority.
A second later, Quirrell glanced back toward Leo and gave him a faint nod before turning away.
He disappeared down the corridor without another word.
Leo remained standing there as countless thoughts surfaced in his mind.
Ever since Quirrell had fainted during the snowball incident, something about him had clearly changed.
His speech had become smooth.
He no longer stuttered every few words.
More importantly, his teaching had changed completely.
Instead of nervously reading from textbooks, Quirrell had suddenly become attentive, focused, and surprisingly competent during Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons.
Under normal circumstances, that would have been good news.
But in Quirrell's case, it only made Leo more uneasy.
The transformation was simply too sudden.
The man had once been nearly useless as a professor.
Now he confidently demonstrated advanced defensive spells and offered practical guidance that genuinely benefited his students.
Recently, Quirrell had even approached Leo after class and casually told him that he was welcome to ask questions about Defence Against the Dark Arts at any time.
On the surface, the offer sounded harmless.
Leo interpreted it very differently.
If this had happened earlier in the year, perhaps Voldemort's interest had only been directed toward the raven.
After all, Leo had long since realized that the raven was far more than an ordinary alchemical creation.
Nor was it merely a key to some hidden cave.
Even Master Lemaître had been unable to restore the dead bird despite all his incredible abilities.
That fact alone demonstrated how extraordinary it truly was.
Just then, Snape noticed Leo through Quirrell's reaction.
The black-robed professor immediately turned and strode toward him.
His robes billowed behind him like the wings of a giant bat.
The atmosphere grew tense.
Neither spoke.
The two approached one another in silence.
Then, just before passing by, Snape suddenly flicked his wrist.
A notebook flew directly toward Leo.
Leo caught it instinctively.
He lowered his eyes toward the object before looking back up.
"Professor Snape?" he asked. "What's this?"
Snape didn't even slow down.
In his usual cold and mocking tone, he replied, "Slytherin students should avoid becoming as blind as those foolish Gryffindors."
Without another word, he swept away down the corridor like an enormous black bat disappearing into darkness.
Leo remained where he stood.
The notebook felt unusually heavy in his hands.
His brows slowly furrowed.
The situation felt strangely familiar.
When he had first met Master Flamel, the old alchemist had warned him never to become too famous within the wizarding world.
At the time, Lemaître had refused to explain why.
Only after the appearance of the Old had he finally revealed the truth.
Leo carried Nicolas Flamel's bloodline.
And if the Old had truly begun moving once again, then Leo himself might already have been marked.
The thought made his mood sink even further.
He continued walking in silence until he reached the passage leading toward the Great Hall.
There, he unexpectedly encountered Hermione, Harry, Ron, and several others.
The atmosphere around them looked dreadful.
Harry's face was dark.
Ron looked furious.
Hermione appeared exhausted and conflicted.
Something serious had obviously happened.
Leo had barely opened his mouth when Ron exploded.
"Hmph! Leo, what else do you even have to say now?"
Ron practically shouted the words.
His face had turned bright red as he glared furiously.
"You kept defending Snape this whole time, but now we've finally seen the truth!"
Without giving Leo any chance to respond, Ron continued.
"We were almost killed because of Professor Snape, and you still expect us to trust him?"
Hermione stepped forward.
"Ron—"
But Ron was too angry to stop.
"Hermione saw everything during the Quidditch match!" he continued. "Snape was muttering spells while staring directly at Harry's broom."
He pointed dramatically toward Harry.
"If Hermione hadn't reacted quickly and set Snape's robes on fire, Harry would've fallen off his broom! Do you understand how dangerous that was?"
Hermione bit her lip.
"Leo... I really did see Professor Snape acting suspiciously."
Her brows knitted together uneasily.
"I was worried about Harry, so Ron and I distracted him by setting his robes on fire."
She hesitated briefly.
"After that, Harry's broom stopped going crazy."
Although she sounded uncertain, the memory clearly still frightened her.
Harry remained silent for several moments.
Then he looked directly at Leo.
Disappointment and anger were both visible in his eyes.
Ron, meanwhile, looked ready to start another argument at any second.
Leo frowned slightly.
"Harry. Ron. Calm down first."
His voice remained steady despite their hostility.
"I wasn't there during the match. Seeing Professor Snape use magic doesn't automatically prove he was trying to hurt Harry."
"There were hundreds of people in the stands," Leo continued. "Plenty of witches and wizards were casting spells or reacting during the game."
Unfortunately, his explanation only made Harry angrier.
Harry's face immediately flushed red.
"You made us believe Snape was a good person!"
His voice echoed through the corridor.
"That was a lie, Leo. You tricked us!"
Ron stomped his foot beside him.
"Exactly! We were nearly hurt because of him, and you're still defending him!"
Harry clenched his fists.
Anger burned in his eyes.
"We all saw him during the Quidditch match. He was absolutely casting a spell on my broom."
His voice grew increasingly heated.
"He's clearly trying to stop me from finding the Philosopher's Stone."
Harry took a sharp breath before continuing.
"And the injuries on his leg? Fluffy probably gave him those when he tried to steal it!"
Ron nodded immediately.
"You really let us down, Leo."
There was genuine bitterness in his voice.
"We trusted your judgment because we thought you were our friend."
The accusation lingered heavily in the corridor.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Leo simply looked at them.
Then he sighed quietly.
"I understand why you're angry."
His tone remained calm.
"But appearances alone aren't enough to prove someone guilty."
His gaze moved from Harry to Ron and finally to Hermione.
Then he spoke with complete seriousness.
"We need actual evidence before drawing conclusions."
....
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