Ancient Magician (Severus x Reader)

Chapter 12:Admirers? Home?

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𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 12:𝐴𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑟𝑠?𝐻𝑜𝑚𝑒?

"𝐴𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡"

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The next morning in the hospital wing, I stirred awake slowly, blinking up at the familiar, whitewashed ceiling. My body ached all over, but especially my arm, which was tightly bandaged. I shifted a little in the bed and reached out for my glasses on the bedside table. Once they were perched on my nose, the blurry shapes in the room came into focus.

Cards. Chocolates. Even a few colorful sweets spilled from half-open bags. The space around me looked like the aftermath of a small party—or perhaps a small invasion of well-wishers.

Just then, the quiet shuffle of robes drew my attention, and I turned my head slightly to see Professor Dumbledore approaching. His blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses, his hands folded calmly behind his back.

"Good afternoon, Y/n," he greeted warmly, his gaze sweeping over the gifts. "Ah... tokens from your admirers, I presume?"

I let out a dry laugh, my voice still a bit hoarse. "Admirers? I wish."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with subtle amusement. "Well, what happened between you and Professor Quirrell in the dungeons is supposed to be an absolute secret... so, naturally, the entire school knows about it."

That brought a genuine smile to my face. I looked down at the pile of Chocolate Frogs, one of them already unwrapped. "I see Ron's saved me the trouble of opening those."

The headmaster nodded with a light chuckle. "Mr. Weasley was indeed here. Along with Miss Granger and young Mr. Potter. All of them are perfectly fine."

Relief washed through me like a wave. "They're okay? Really?"

"Quite all right," he confirmed gently.

My heart slowed a bit, enough to make space for the next question that had been burning in my mind. "What about the Stone? What happened to it?"

Dumbledore moved to sit on the edge of my bed, his expression growing a touch more serious. "It's been destroyed. Nicholas and I had a long talk, and we agreed that it was for the best. For everyone."

"But... Flamel," I murmured. "Won't he die now?"

Dumbledore gave a soft nod. "Yes, in time. But he has enough of the Elixir of Life left to settle his affairs. You see, to someone like Nicholas, death is just the next great adventure."

I looked down at my hands, my voice barely a whisper. "How did I even get the Stone, Professor? I was only looking into the Mirror and then... it was suddenly in my pocket."

"Ah," he said, eyes brightening slightly, "you see, only someone who wanted to find the Stone—but not use it—could retrieve it. That's the enchantment I placed on the Mirror of Erised. One of my more clever ideas, if I may say so myself."

I couldn't help but smile. He did have a way of sounding modest while not-so-subtly complimenting himself.

"So... does that mean, with the Stone gone... Voldemort can never come back?"

At that, the twinkle in his eyes dimmed just a little. "I'm afraid not. There are other ways. Dark and unnatural ways. But what you did—your choice to face him, to protect your friends—matters deeply, more than you may yet understand."