Chapter 49: Love is the Greatest Magic
Chapter 49: Love is the Greatest Magic
"Wait, Severus."
As Snape turned to leave, Dumbledore called out to him and calmly asked, "What is this?"
He held up the parchment in his hand.
Snape paused, and his eyes took on a peculiar glint.
"You don't know?"
"Obviously, I am not as omniscient as people like to claim. In fact, I often feel that I know very little."
Snape's eyes roved up and down Dumbledore's figure, as if witnessing a giant tiptoeing in a ballet. A slight curve formed at the corner of his mouth, a mix of mockery and schadenfreude.
"How curious—someone sent me a Christmas present but neglected the great Dumbledore?"
Snape's caustic tone did not cause Dumbledore to change his expression. The elderly headmaster merely withdrew his wand and waved it at the room full of gift boxes, causing the Potions master to peer curiously.
The boxes swayed slightly before coming to a rest.
Dumbledore sighed regretfully and said, "It seems there really isn't one."
"Oh," Snape replied dryly.
He had just seen it—Dumbledore's room was piled high with gifts, almost reaching the ceiling. In contrast, he could count the number of gift boxes in his bedroom on one hand. Suddenly, Snape's desire to mock faded.
In truth, he didn't care about the number of gifts—he just didn't like seeing others inadvertently flaunting their popularity.
Snape snapped his fingers, and a piece of paper shot toward Dumbledore like a bullet.
"This is the instruction manual."
As Dumbledore caught the paper, Snape had already turned and strode away. The white-bearded headmaster pushed up his glasses and lowered his head to read, quickly figuring out how to use it.
"Oh—is this an invention to replace Muggle telephones? Quite an interesting concept—"
He murmured the incantation and examined the parchment—or rather, the magic on the friend's account.
"Ingenious concept, brilliant combination... It seems that Mr. Grey is already seeing the fruits of his labor in alchemy—and he's very talented—no wonder Mori is so proud—"
Thinking that he alone had not received a gift, Dumbledore recalled the expressions of the children that day and vaguely understood something.
"So that's how it is... A smart and sensitive child... I see. Unlike Harry, this child probably doesn't like to be guided—"
He seemed to be musing to himself, but soon, a frail, aged voice echoed in the room.
"Ralf rarely sees eleven-year-olds like this." The voice said, "A bit like Albus Dumbledore in his youth; also like Tom Riddle—intelligent, perceptive, and unique."
Dumbledore's gaze lowered as he humbly replied, "Oh, your assessment of me is a bit too high. When I was eleven, my understanding of alchemy was no different from that of any ordinary child."
At the focus of his gaze stood a highly aged house-elf by the fireplace. His skin was wrinkled, and he wore a tea towel emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest, his ears sprouting fluffy white hair. He was so thin that his body seemed easily breakable, but his large green eyes were clear and sharp.
In a whispery voice, the elf said, "Albus Dumbledore is truly arrogant. By saying this, he tacitly acknowledges that he is unique and believes he should know everything."
"Don't be so blunt, dear Ralf," Dumbledore said helplessly. "You see me too clearly, often making me feel ashamed."
He adjusted his glasses and sat down at the desk, softly requesting, "Could you help me organize these gifts? I need to write something."
"Ralf is willing to serve, Master."
The house-elf bowed, took a few steps back, and extended his slender fingers.
The gift boxes piled in the room opened on their own, books swiftly flew into the bookshelves to arrange themselves neatly, and the edible treats jumped into the cabinets, the doors snapping shut with a "bang." Various greeting cards and letters fell into several boxes, stacking neatly on the desk, awaiting Dumbledore's attention when he had the time. The remaining items were then placed in various corners of the room.
As for the problematic gifts, they gathered together, mercilessly squeezed and crushed by magic.
Before long, Ralf disappeared from the room with these "trash" and wrapping papers.
On the table were only two or three unopened gift boxes - the kind that only Dumbledore could open personally.
As the elf was busy, Dumbledore inscribed his name on each friend's account - 【Albus Dumbledore】.
All the professors who remained at Hogwarts during the Christmas holiday had no families and probably no relatives. They chose to give Dumbledore one of their one-on-one contact friends' accounts.
So, on this morning, Dumbledore, who hadn't received a friend's account as a Christmas gift, still had a thicker 《Friends Account》 than anyone else.
Putting away the friend's account, Dumbledore sat at the desk for a long time, deep in thought, as the shadows of time flitted across his eyes, rippling through the depths of those blue eyes.
Is it similar? Of course, it is.
Recalling carefully, the look in Vid Grey's eyes as he stood in the crowd that day was so similar to his younger self.
But Dumbledore would not forget how he had messed up his own life.
After a long contemplation, he carefully penned a letter -
【My Dear Mori,
I have received the gift your owl delivered, and I must say, it is quite ingenious - even brilliant. It is hard to imagine that this is the work of an eleven-year-old child... Of course, to some extent, its composition is actually quite simple and understandable. But it is precisely because of its simplicity that it is all the more remarkable, and I think you will understand what I mean... I can almost foresee the revolutionary changes it will bring to the wizarding world...
To be honest, this makes me both delighted and fearful - for such a gifted child, what kind of education should we provide? The last time I encountered such a frighteningly intelligent student was fifty years ago... You should still remember that student - Tom Riddle... I will not be so arrogant as to believe that my personal attitude determined Voldemort's life. But I must admit that my education of him was undoubtedly a failure...
A precocious child with abundant talent, whose emotions are restrained by his thoughts and isolated by his own wisdom... Even amidst a multitude of people, he is lonely because his intellect and perceptiveness make it easier for him to see the selfishness, greed, and ugly desires and obsessions within human nature... He will maintain a certain distance from others, disguising his disappointment and indifference towards human nature with humor, kindness, or politeness... He is more likely to lose his way than those clumsy children...
You know, I am not just talking about Tom Riddle, nor just about Vid Grey.
Therefore, regarding your student, Vid, I have some suggestions that may not be fully mature...
My dear friend, we adults often unknowingly develop a sense of arrogance when facing children who are much younger than us... Looking down on them with a sense of superiority, like monarchs wielding absolute power, imparting the information we want them to know, withholding what we think they shouldn't, and manipulating them with our words, guiding them in the direction we want them to go...
How arrogant!
Even more perilous is that we often remain unaware of this arrogance.
Because we believe we are making the right decisions, steering them towards becoming "better people"...
I cannot say that this is absolutely wrong, as children's thoughts are often immature, their words and actions unrestrained. Without proper guidance, they can easily stray onto the wrong path, causing harm to themselves and others... But for students like Vid Grey, conventional education may only yield the opposite effect...
If there is one insight I have gained from my many years of failed teaching, it is this - love is the most difficult and most powerful magic in this world. It is enigmatic and unpredictable, yet it can change and determine everything...】
(End of Chapter)
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