---
After completing another tedious round of herb preparation in Snape's office, Dyroth stretched his tired hands, ready to leave. Just as he was about to say goodbye, Snape stopped him.
"Wait, go to the headmaster's office. Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you. The password is 'Cockroach Cluster.'"
"Understood, Professor," Dyroth responded, feeling a little puzzled. His interactions with Dumbledore had been minimal lately.
Could this be about the shopkeepers' meeting I mentioned? he wondered. Why would the headmaster want to see me now?
Full of questions, Dyroth arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. The stone gargoyle moved aside as he spoke the password.
Inside, Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk, seemingly engrossed in a thick book. Noticing Dyroth, he set the book down, a twinkle in his eye.
"Ah, Dyroth, may I call you that?"
"Of course, Headmaster."
"Please, sit down. Would you care for a lemon drop?"
Dyroth glanced around the room at the flickering torches and gave Dumbledore a polite but knowing look. "If you don't mind, Headmaster, I was just about to have my evening meal."
His meaning was clear—let's get to the point, Headmaster. I need to leave soon.
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "You recall our earlier conversation, regarding young Mr. Potter?"
"I remember you mentioning it shouldn't be only Harry who benefits from any… interactions," Dyroth replied, a flicker of unease in his stomach.
He realized he hadn't actively sought out Harry much over the past couple of months, focusing on his own studies and tasks. He scratched his head, feeling slightly awkward.
"It's not that I don't want to interact with him, but the opportunities haven't really presented themselves."
Dumbledore observed him with a hint of amusement but didn't press the issue. "You have some awareness of how Harry has been faring during this time, I presume?"
Dyroth considered it. Without a specific catalyst or Hermione's inquisitive nature driving them, the mystery on the third floor likely remained just that—a mystery.
Harry's first year had probably been relatively normal. He likely attended classes, spent time with Ron, and perhaps visited Hagrid. For someone destined for great things, his school life might seem… ordinary.
"Yes," Dyroth replied carefully, "Harry's year seems to have been… quiet."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Perhaps too quiet. A lack of challenges can sometimes hinder the development of one's character."
"Are you suggesting I… tutor him in some way? With all due respect, Headmaster, Harry doesn't strike me as someone who enjoys extra hours in the library," Dyroth said, feigning a slight misunderstanding.
"The professors are well-equipped to guide his academic progress," Dumbledore said calmly. "What I believe could be beneficial is… encouraging a spirit of curiosity and perhaps a touch of… well, let's call it initiative."
"Initiative? Beyond exploring the grounds, what opportunities for that does Hogwarts offer a first-year?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly.
Dyroth blinked, a dawning understanding in his eyes. "You want him to… stumble upon the secret on the third floor?"
Now it made a degree of sense. If Harry remained on this uneventful path, he would progress through Hogwarts without facing any significant trials.
The encounter with whatever lay beyond the three-headed dog needed to happen for the larger events to unfold.
"The path of a hero often involves overcoming certain… obstacles," Dumbledore said, a faint smile playing on his lips. He reached into his robes and popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth.
Dyroth grinned. "I understand. That shouldn't be too difficult to… facilitate."
This development eased a concern he had been harboring.
He had been unsure how to navigate the events surrounding the troll and the Philosopher's Stone without raising suspicion, especially with Hermione's sharp mind potentially uncovering things too quickly.
A nudge in the right direction for Harry and Ron seemed like a more natural way to proceed.
At that moment, a house-elf appeared, bearing a tray laden with food. Leah, the elf, stopped short when she saw Dyroth. "Oh! Master Dyroth! Leah did not know it was you! Forgive Leah!" The elf wrung her hands anxiously.
"No need for apologies, Leah," Dyroth said, already feeling the pangs of hunger. "That smells wonderful."
Leah's ears perked up, and a wide smile spread across her face. "Master Dyroth is too kind! Leah is happy to serve Master Dyroth!"
Dumbledore, watching this interaction with mild surprise, raised his eyebrows slightly. The house-elves' deference towards Dyroth was notable.
Dyroth quickly ate a few of the offered sandwiches, clearly enjoying them, and handed the plate back to Leah. "Thank you, Leah. It was delicious."
"It is Leah's honor, Master Dyroth!" the elf squeaked happily before vanishing with a soft pop.
As Dyroth stood to leave, Dumbledore couldn't help but ask, "The house-elves seem… particularly fond of you, Dyroth."
"Treating everyone with respect tends to foster positive relations, Headmaster," Dyroth said smoothly, turning to leave the office.
Dumbledore sat quietly for a moment, stroking his beard. "Respect… A curious quality in one so… enigmatic."
Back in his dormitory, Dyroth considered his conversation with Dumbledore. He had learned to carefully analyze every interaction, searching for hidden meanings and potential manipulations.
Dumbledore's intentions were now clearer. He wasn't just a passive observer; he was subtly guiding events. The encounter with the creature guarding the Stone was not meant to be avoided.
As for the larger threat…
Dyroth mused, his thoughts drifting to the rumors and hushed whispers about Voldemort's lingering presence. That will have to be addressed in time. For now, a gentle push is all that's required.
He settled into bed, the events of the day turning over in his mind. Let the games begin.
"....."