Richie decided to hurry everyone up. He pointed his wand at the owl and silently cast the Immobulus spell. The bird tried to fly, but the blue beam still hit it.
"Guys, grab the owl and get out of here. We'll sort this out later."
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," Ron quickly agreed.
"What, yeah, yeah?" Harry looked intently at Ron. "It's your owl, you take it."
- This is not my owl, but Malfoy's!
Ron, finding no support, sighed heavily and headed toward the bird. He put the owl in his bag and returned to the boys.
Richie climbed into his robotic armor. Harry, following his friend's example, climbed into his spacesuit. Ron hurried to grab the last spacesuit. Heading toward the wall of black flame, the boys paused for a moment near the body of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Harry turned his head towards Ron and said with hysterical and sarcastic notes:
- We're not going to make it out of detention, are we?! We'll probably end up in Azkaban...
"Who knew I'd have to fail a teacher?" Weasley swallowed convulsively, looking away from the corpse. "And anyway, we're heroes-we destroyed the greatest evil of wizarding history-You-Know-Who..." he added hesitantly.
"Ron, don't exaggerate," Richard grimaced. "Firstly, it was self-defense, and Quirrell killed himself. Secondly, a deranged professor isn't exactly the height of evil. I doubt it was Tom Riddle. More likely, Professor Quirrell had a conjoined twin in the back of his head who went crazy and thought he was Riddle, and Quirrell went mad with him. Such conjoined twins are extremely rare and usually die in infancy, but Quirrell is a wizard, so he might have survived."
"I'd go crazy too if I was covered with a turban all the time," Potter said.
"You think so?" Weasley drawled. "What about the shrieking ghost and Harry's scar?! You-Know-Who gave him the scar. Harry's scar hurt when You-Know-Who was around, and it stopped hurting when the ghost left. I think there's a connection."
"If you think about it..." Richie considered. "Magic can do anything. But then it turns out that in '81, Riddle didn't fully die, but turned into a ghost. And he somehow inhabited Quirrell's body. And he needed the Philosopher's Stone to regain his body. So the trap was set by Dumbledore specifically for him."
"Or maybe it's not a trap," Harry's face looked gloomy behind the transparent shield of his spacesuit.
"Then what?" Weasley asked.
"Perhaps Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry continued, "wanted to resurrect Voldemort."
Ron shuddered at the mention of Riddle's nickname.
"Dumbledore is no saint, but why would he resurrect a rival?" he asked.
"I don't know," Potter shrugged. "I just thought there were traps, but judge for yourself-we, three first-years, managed to get through them. We might be the best and best equipped, but we were still first-years. It was as if they'd specifically told Quirrell, 'Hey, dude, I've got the Philosopher's Stone in the basement. It needs protecting, and you and the other teachers are going to do it. To know what traps are being used, you'll set yours second to last.'"
"But why not have Quirrell make the final trap then?" Weasley asked a perfectly logical question.
"So as not to alert the thief," Potter replied. "To lower his guard. So he'll think he's stealing the stone himself, rather than receiving it as a gift."
During their conversation, the boys climbed both walls of fire and crossed the room with the unconscious troll. To reach the next room, they had to fly. Fortunately, all the suits supported levitation.
Three boys flew over the chess pieces and crawled into the hall with the keys through a hole left in the wall.
"I still don't understand why the headmaster would want to resurrect You-Know-Who," Ron continued.
"Perhaps he wanted more glory," Harry suggested. "The way he brought him back, he could have killed him. Everyone would have respected and loved him more than before. And does a psycho need reasons anyway?!"
"No, Dumbledore is certainly eccentric, but he's not crazy," Weasley said.
"Ron, he's a complete psycho!" Harry declared confidently. "I read the report from the Muggle forensic psychiatrist my uncle consulted. It says in black and white that Dumbledore is crazy."
"Oh!" Ron exclaimed in amazement. "I see..."
"Quiet, guys," Richard said. "Switch to the intercom. To do that, you need to will the external vocoders to shut off. We're approaching the plant tentacles."
"I don't really want to go to them, even in a suit," Ron froze in place.
"We're not idiots to walk," Richie said. "We're taking off again. Just be quiet."
The boys somehow squeezed through the hatch. To their great joy, the Cerberus continued to sleep.
Harry reached the door and climbed out of his suit. Then, next to him, Ron did the same. Last was Richie. All the suits were shrunk and stowed away.
"Activate stealth mode," Richard whispered.
"What?" Weasley stared at Rich in bewilderment.
"We become invisible," Richie explained.
- Ah! You could have said so right away.
The boys put on thermal imaging glasses and became invisible.
Before the boys had time to sneak to the end of the corridor, Professor McGonagall unexpectedly appeared at its beginning.
Harry, Ron, and Richie pressed themselves against the wall, holding their breath. The professor hurried past them. Stopping at the door, she tugged at the handle, only to discover to her surprise that it was unlocked.
Looking inside, McGonagall stared at the sleeping Cerberus with a stunned expression.
"Oh! Is it possible..." she exclaimed loudly in amazement.
The professor immediately slammed the door shut. Her wand was in her hand. Immediately, she cast a cascade of spells on the door, after which the boys watched in amazement for the first time as McGonagall ran.
Richie breathed a sigh of relief as the professor ran past them, unnoticed by the invisible ones, and disappeared around the corner of the corridor.
"She's gone," Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
"God, I thought she'd notice us," Harry said.
"We need to get out of here quickly," Richard noted. "McGonagall's probably rushed off to get help."
- Let's run!
Ron didn't wait and immediately broke into a run after his shout. Harry and Richard ran after him, barely keeping up.