Snape stood rigid, his back ramrod straight, offering no immediate response to Dumbledore's previous remark.
Dumbledore's voice broke the silence again. "So, Severus—"
"It is obvious, Headmaster."
Snape cut him off, his tone steady yet biting with cold.
"In the face of Quirrell... or rather, the entity possessing him, any physical barrier we set up is futile. In fact, it might only force him into desperate measures—like a cornered animal—which could endanger the safety of the students."
Snape paused for a beat, deliberately avoiding that name.
"For the final defense, I believe what is required is not power, but logic. A filter that cannot be brute-forced, cannot be easily corroded by Dark Magic, and can only be passed by maintaining a cool, rational head."
Snape enunciated the last few words with distinct precision.
Behind his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes flickered as he regarded the Potions Master.
He didn't agree, nor did he object. He simply nodded slightly, signaling Snape to continue.
"Potions."
Snape spat the word out.
"Precise. Unforgiving. I will design a set of potions. The vast majority will be lethal poisons, or perhaps harmless water to confuse the challenger. But the key lies in this... only one bottle will allow them to move forward."
"And another will allow them to retreat safely."
Snape stopped and looked directly at Dumbledore.
His implication was crystal clear. This wasn't just about filtering out intruders; it was about leaving a way out. A lifeline for a retreat that likely didn't exist in Dumbledore's original plan, but one that Snape was determined to pave.
Using the tool he knew best—Potions.
"They will be placed behind a simple logic puzzle," Snape continued, seeing that Dumbledore remained silent.
"The test is not of magical ability, but basic intelligence—reading the clues, understanding the rules, and deducing the answer."
Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward and tapping his fingertips lightly against the desk.
He was weighing the options. Snape's proposal differed from his own setup, but it was undeniable effective—especially considering that Quirrell, currently playing host to a parasite, likely didn't possess the calmest state of mind.
More importantly, it provided a lifeline for Harry Potter. A rule-abiding exit in a desperate situation. This was Snape's most obvious act of rebellion against the current plan.
He couldn't stop the plan or prevent Harry from walking into danger, but he could use his own authority to ensure the boy had a chance to walk away safely.
And that authority was something Dumbledore had just granted him.
"A combination of a logic puzzle and potions..."
Dumbledore looked up slowly, his blue eyes locking onto Snape's.
"That is indeed... ingenious, Severus. It forces one to examine their own motives, rather than simply casting spells."
Dumbledore's gaze was heavy with meaning.
"Only those who have truly thought things through will be able to press on, or... make the wise choice to leave."
Dumbledore spoke the last few words very slowly, holding Snape's gaze.
Snape's expression remained flat. That had been his intention all along; he just needed Dumbledore's sign-off.
"I agree," Dumbledore nodded. "This will be the final, and most critical barrier. You have full discretion to design it, Severus."
Snape gave a stiff, formal bow, then turned and swept out of the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore watched the door close and sighed again, though his expression was much lighter than it had been moments before.
---
Between checking his own stats panel, keeping up with Hogwarts classes, and attending the private tutoring sessions with three different professors, Rock felt like there simply weren't enough hours in the day.
Especially with Christmas right around the corner.
Every professor had assigned holiday homework, which had to be completed and turned in after the break, regardless of whether students were staying at the castle or going home.
Rock walked slowly out of the Ravenclaw common room. He felt the need to hit up Madam Pomfrey for a Pepperup Potion or something similar to keep him going.
As he approached a corridor, Rock suddenly froze. He quickly dove behind a suit of armor to hide.
Feeling that wasn't secure enough, he pointed his wand at himself and whispered, "Disillusionment."
Around the corner, a furious-looking Snape roughly shoved Quirrell into view.
Quirrell looked up in panic. The books in his arms slipped to the floor, but he didn't dare bend down to pick them up. He stared in terror at Snape, who was looming over him.
Those pitch-black, bottomless eyes made Quirrell tremble uncontrollably.
"Professor Quirrell," Snape said coldly, scanning the empty corridor to ensure they were alone.
"In such a rush? eager to check on your... special interests? Or are you just running away to avoid getting pelted by student snowballs again?"
As he spoke, Snape's gaze swept over Quirrell slowly, from head to toe.
White knuckles, trembling body—Snape ignored the obvious signs of fear. His eyes lingered for a split second on the back of Quirrell's turbaned head.
His pupils constricted slightly, then he looked away.
"Quirinus Quirrell. You still haven't given me a definite answer regarding our last discussion. What? Do you truly believe your strength alone is enough to serve His purpose?"
Hearing this, Quirrell shuddered violently but gritted his teeth.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Professor Snape. I just want to go back to my office."
Snape curled his lip. He had already confirmed what he wanted to know. He turned to leave, then paused.
"We will speak again."
With a swish of his cloak, Snape swept away like a giant bat.
Once Snape was gone, Quirrell collapsed against the wall as if he'd just fought a war.
Checking that the coast was clear, Quirrell muttered, "Master... why... why didn't you agree?"
A high, cold voice hissed in Quirrell's ear. It was faint, but it made Quirrell gasp for air.
"Shut up! He is merely a traitor... However, knowing my return, it is only natural he seeks to atone..."
"Go back! Now!"
"Yes... yes..."
Quirrell scrambled up, gathered his fallen books, and shuffled away toward his office with tiny, frantic steps.
The corridor fell silent again.
After a long while, once Rock was absolutely sure no one else was around, he let out a long breath and slowly stepped out from behind the armor.
What kind of luck is this today...?
He just wanted to go to the hospital wing, and he ends up stumbling upon a showdown between Snape and Quirrell.
Although he hadn't clearly heard Quirrell's muttering at the end, Rock had definitely caught the way Snape's eyes had locked onto the turban.
"So... he was confirming the location of the parasite?"
Since Rock had mentioned the Mandrake the other night, Snape's attitude hadn't changed when Rock turned in his essay the next day. But the ingredients he had Rock prepping in detention were clearly different now.
Moonstone, Salamander blood powder, Frost Thistle extract...
Individually, they looked ordinary. But together? Those were all ingredients used to brew potions that provided temporary resistance to fire.
It looked like the preparation for the final challenge guarding the Sorcerer's Stone had officially begun.