Chapter 191: Learning Gobbledegook Fire
"Of course, no problem." Dylan set his book down. "What do you want to talk about?"
Cedric pursed his lips. "Everyone's saying that when you faced the Boggart, its transformation… it became me as a tree-man?"
Dylan shook his head. "I don't think so. It just bore some resemblance to you, that's all. After all, that tree-man was a tree-man, all bark and leaves. I think some students simply thought it looked similar, and then the rumour just got more exaggerated with each telling. Besides, after that Boggart turned into a dead tree-man's corpse, I did have a vague impression of it—I'd seen it in a dream, probably a nightmare I had one night."
Cedric blinked, surprised. "Is that so?" He didn't press further, just nodded. "I'm sorry to bother you. My friend told me about it. The reason I didn't ask you immediately was because I didn't want my involvement to cause you any unnecessary trouble with the rumour circulating." Cedric offered Dylan an apologetic smile. "It seems everyone has stopped talking about it now."
"I was passing by the library today and saw you here by yourself, so I came over on a whim. I hope you don't mind."
Cedric stood beside Dylan, tall and slender, his build looking sturdy, his features well-defined, and his appearance and demeanour striking. Even after a brief conversation, Dylan could feel Cedric's gentle and humble nature. No wonder he's the Hufflepuff Golden Boy.
Dylan clicked his tongue, then shook his head with a smile. "It's fine, really. I should be apologising to you. I imagine I've caused you quite a bit of bother recently, haven't I?"
Cedric let out a silent chuckle — this was the library, after all. Madam Pince seemed to have just passed by and was now casting frequent glances at them from a short distance away.
"Not at all! Everyone asking me about the tree-man actually felt quite peculiar." After a pause, Cedric gave Dylan a slight nod. "Well, I won't disturb you from your reading, Dylan. If you ever need my help with anything, just come find me directly, or send word another way."
"—Like having someone else tell me."
Dylan nodded too. "Alright, I certainly won't stand on ceremony."
Cedric blinked, then couldn't help but smile again. This young wizard was truly amusing.
Once Cedric had turned and left, Dylan picked up his book again. He wasn't distracted by Cedric at all. That Golden Boy of Hufflepuff, who died too young… perhaps he shouldn't die so early.
By evening, after dinner, Dylan didn't return to his dormitory. Instead, he made his way to Dumbledore's office door.
Knock, knock.
The door opened. Dylan stepped inside.
Old Dumbledore was hunched over his desk, grading something. Without looking up, he suddenly spoke, posing a question to Dylan: "I have a question for you."
"—Which is closer to the truth: the darkness before dawn, or the light after dusk?"
Dylan, who was walking towards the desk, paused, bewildered. Had the old man gone mad? Why would he suddenly ask such an odd question? Was he perhaps feeling gloomy because of the Dementors nearby?
Once he reached Dumbledore's desk, he thought for a moment. He decided not to refuse an answer. —Since he'd been asked, it would be rude not to say something. If it were any other time, it wouldn't matter. But Dylan was here because he wanted Dumbledore to teach him something. When you ask a favour, you must first humble yourself.
Dylan chuckled. "I think the truth might always lie at the intersection of both. Are you satisfied with that answer?"
Dumbledore looked up. "Hmm, a rather vague and non-committal answer."
Dylan showed no embarrassment, plonking himself down opposite Dumbledore. "May I ask why you're asking me this?"
Dumbledore set down his quill and smiled gently. "Oh, nothing much. Just dealing with a few matters concerning the Ministry of Magic. You know how they are over there; always looking for opportunities to nitpick."
Dylan suddenly thought of someone and couldn't help but ask, "How was the Auror who came to see you last time?"
"You mean Vera?"
Dylan nodded.
Old Dumbledore eyed him. "She had a great many things to attend to after returning to the Ministry last time; Flitwick told me. As for how she is now, I wouldn't know."
Old Dumbledore countered, "Didn't you go to her father's ice cream parlour during the summer holidays?"
"I was quite busy this summer. I did go, but I didn't sit down or chat with Uncle Florean. I just bought an ice cream and left."
Old Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Right, well, I thought you two had become rather good friends. She was an excellent student at Hogwarts, you know."
"To become an Auror team leader so quickly after graduating, she's clearly very talented," Dylan agreed.
"This isn't your usual Alchemy lesson, is it, my boy? Is there something else you need from me?" Old Dumbledore looked directly at Dylan.
"Yes, Professor, there's something I'd like to ask you about," Dylan admitted, getting straight to the point.
"What is it?" Old Dumbledore's white beard nearly touched the desk.
"I'd like to learn Gobbledegook Fire, Professor. Alchemy must require a rather unusual sort of flame, wouldn't you agree?" Dylan said. "And, it seems Gobbledegook Fire can also be quite useful in Divination."
He wasn't wrong at all. Dylan had read the precise definition of Gobbledegook Fire in books. Compared to its uses in Alchemy, Gobbledegook Fire was actually more suited for Divination. Wizards could use the symbols appearing in Gobbledegook Fire to reveal information and answers.
However, this method of divination required a certain skill and talent. And interpreting the symbols that emerged from these flames wasn't an easy task. But for Dylan, talents could always be unlocked through the Achievement System. That wasn't a big problem.
As for interpreting symbols, that was just a matter of persistent effort. As the saying goes, 'constant dripping wears away a stone'. He just needed to study the knowledge and content in books diligently, and he would eventually become proficient in interpreting the symbols in the flames.
Old Dumbledore seemed slightly surprised, looking at Dylan. "Gobbledegook Fire? That could be considered a forbidden art. Where did you see that?"
Dylan smiled. "Of course I know that, but no one or no decree has ever declared it forbidden to learn or use. As for where I saw it…"
"Naturally, in a book," Dylan answered, his voice confident.
"After learning that Gobbledegook Fire is also very useful in Divination, I specifically asked Professor Trelawney, but she told me it's only available to older students and requires the Head of House's approval."
"Is that so? Then why didn't you go ask Minerva?"
"I checked Hogwarts: A History. You demonstrated an improved version of the Fire-Making Charm in Transfiguration class back in the day—I don't think that was ordinary fire." Dylan stared directly at Old Dumbledore, his expression earnest. "Instead of seeking a Head of House's approval, I thought I'd come straight to— "
"The Headmaster, is that it?" Old Dumbledore chuckled aloud.
"My boy, do you know? What I appreciate most about you is your frankness."
He suddenly waved a hand. With a hum, a flame materialised out of thin air. This flame didn't flicker like an ordinary fire; its surface shimmered with a silken lustre.
At its core, a ghostly blue orb pulsed like a beating heart. Golden patterns faintly bloomed at the tips of the fire's tongues, like veins on a heart, spreading outwards.
As the patterns covered the entire fiery body, this blue flame suddenly expanded, becoming a prism, its surface covered in intricate runes. Those runes writhed like living earthworms, making faint chimes like wind bells. The edges of the flame shimmered with a faint pearlescent iridescence, and the sparks that occasionally burst forth were highly unusual.
Dylan watched closely; they were transparent hexagons, suspended in the air, then coalescing into fleeting constellations.
Dylan narrowed his eyes. Setting aside everything else, just its appearance alone, this Gobbledegook Fire looked quite extraordinary.
"In truth, my boy, Gobbledegook Fire is both a spell and an instrument," Dumbledore said, cradling the blue flame in his palm. The flame quieted down, its intensity much reduced.
"You mean this fire is actually similar to a brewed potion?"
Old Dumbledore blinked. "If you insist on describing it that way, yes, it is rather similar."
He wasn't holding his wand in his other hand, but with a slight flick of his finger, the curtains suddenly swished shut, blocking out the moonlight.
"If I were to describe it to you, Gobbledegook Fire isn't a simple incantation. More importantly, it's about forging a contract with the flame. I understand it as a ritual."
Old Dumbledore looked at Dylan. "I imagine your Charms professor has already taught you the counter-curse for Fiendfyre. Since you've read so many texts, what do you believe is the difference between Gobbledegook Fire and Fiendfyre?"
Dylan's eyebrows rose slightly at the question. That was indeed a good question.
Gobbledegook Fire was a profound magic, not Dark Arts. Yet it could produce an eternally burning flame. This flame could be used for divination and even given as a gift—though Dylan had no idea why a ball of fire would ever be a present. What's more, Gobbledegook Fire was quite helpful for Alchemy—after all, Alchemy, in some respects, was also a form of future prediction.
As for Fiendfyre—this Dark magic could also burn endlessly, growing stronger and stronger, and was practically inextinguishable.
"Regarding their differences, I think Gobbledegook Fire can perhaps be controlled, and its purpose is gentle, while Fiendfyre is uncontrollable, indiscriminate, and will madly devour and destroy everything."
Dumbledore nodded. "Precisely. But you must remember, Gobbledegook Fire is also very powerful. It can alter the very fabric of its environment."
"Don't underestimate it in that regard. If it cannot be controlled, it will be no different from Fiendfyre—for both will bring devastating catastrophe upon you and those around you."
Dylan nodded seriously. "I understand."
Pop!
Old Dumbledore's hand suddenly tightened. The Gobbledegook Fire in his palm was directly extinguished.
Dylan: ?!
He looked at Old Dumbledore, then at Old Dumbledore's still faintly smoking palm. Doesn't it burn? Is his hand not hot??
"Since you are willing to learn, I believe you are also worthy of learning—in fact, the school doesn't usually teach students this spell."
Old Dumbledore winked at Dylan. "Remember not to tell Minerva about this, or she'll be nagging me again."
Dylan cleared his throat. "Don't worry, Headmaster. If Professor McGonagall knew I came to you to learn Gobbledegook Fire, she'd definitely think I was going to spend even more time on Divination and all that mystical future-gazing."
This was also one of the reasons he came directly to Old Dumbledore to learn Gobbledegook Fire, instead of asking Professor McGonagall first to see if she knew the spell.
The old wizard and the young wizard exchanged a look, sharing a knowing smile.
Old Dumbledore straightened up, then stood. Dylan also rose. The two walked to a clear space in front of the office.
"Watch closely." Old Dumbledore's blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles looked as if they were steeped in ice water. His wand carved a complex arc in the air.
Instantly, a silver gleam, like a streak of the Milky Way, poured onto the floor. Spider-web-like wisps of blue smoke began to seep from the cracks in the stone flags. Slowly, they coalesced into a blue ball of light the size of a candle flame.
"Gobbledegook Fire, you could understand it as summoning, but more accurately, it is shaping."
Dumbledore suddenly reached out and clasped Dylan's wrist. Dylan's wand was forced to point at the ball of blue flame.
"Ordinary fire relies on fuel; this one relies on your magic to shape it," Old Dumbledore's voice, calm and unhurried, sounded in Dylan's ear.
"Imagine the thing you wish to protect most—not a visual, but a feeling."
When Dylan heard Old Dumbledore's words, the first thing that popped into his mind was the Basilisk, which he was bleeding so much it was almost fainting. —He really did need to protect it. Otherwise, the snake would die before he could fully exploit its potential. Then he'd be at a huge loss.
It wasn't until Old Dumbledore's voice sounded again that Dylan snapped out of his thoughts. A feeling?
Just as he tried to probe the Gobbledegook Fire with a 'feeling', Dylan felt a sudden burst of runes in his mind. As Dumbledore's grip on his wrist gradually tightened, tiny sparks shot from the tip of Dylan's wand. The moment they fell, they were swallowed by the ethereal blue flame Old Dumbledore had already conjured.
The flame suddenly swelled.
"Remember, in anything, never be misled by appearances." Dumbledore suddenly released Dylan's hand.
Dylan's magic continued to flow steadily; the flame didn't extinguish, but it did dim considerably.
"You're trying to control it with logic; that's like trying to catch flowing water in a fishing net. Try using your wit, your emotions—they need to be passionate, or the flame won't last."
Old Dumbledore's tone was a little odd, but Dylan didn't pay it much mind. Passionate emotions, huh?
Dylan suddenly thought of his feelings during his usual research. Especially the preparatory work before starting his experiments. The sizzling sound of draining blood, the stripping of skin and sinews, the blooming of putrid flowers… Just thinking about it felt so good!
Whoosh!
Suddenly, the flame surged again. Old Dumbledore froze.
....
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