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The extreme cold had frozen the vast Black Lake into a solid sheet of ice. In the dim light, the Forbidden Forest, swaying in the biting wind, resembled more a shimmering lake.
"Before Easter last year, I remember you wrote to me saying you were exploring the ruins of an ancient Greek wizard in Greece, and you mailed me five pints of dragon blood and forty ounces of dragon liver," Armostad walked alongside Snape towards the castle perched on the cliff edge.
As they passed three tall Quidditch goalposts by the pitch, and while Armostad gazed at the flickering firelight of Hagrid's hut, Snape observed Armostad, whose features had become more profound than when he graduated three and a half years ago. His voice held an unclear meaning.
"But then, the Daily Prophet revealed an interesting piece of information: the Norwegian Ministry of Magic stated that someone had illegally trespassed into their dragon nature preserve, stole a precious Norwegian Ridgeback dragon egg, and slaughtered a Norwegian Red Scale dragon in front of two Muggles who had accidentally entered the preserve. Armostad, I presume there's no connection between these two events?"
"What do you think, my Professor?" Armostad withdrew his gaze from the distance, looking at the only window in the tower that glowed with firelight among a row of dark, hollow rooms. He smiled, "Or rather, what kind of answer do you wish to receive from me?"
Snape's lips curled into his habitual sneer, but as the words reached his mouth, he suddenly realized that the young man beside him was no longer the impoverished student from years ago, who disliked forming deep connections with classmates and preferred to immerse himself in his own world. Instead, he had rapidly grown into a wizard whom Snape himself found somewhat unfathomable.
"To me, none of that matters, Armostad. I simply wish to remind you," The warm meeting Dumbledore had envisioned did not occur between this teacher and student. Snape stomped determinedly towards the castle. "I hope you know what you are doing, and I hope you know this school is not as peaceful as it appearsâespecially these past few years, Armostad.
If your habit of low-key behavior hasn't changed, then continue to maintain it, especially in front of Dumbledore. Finally, my advice is to leave here as soon as possible, even leave the British wizarding world, and return when everything has settled... If your mind is as sharp as it used to be, you should understand what I'm saying."
...
Perhaps his movements tonight were too ordinary, for the stone gargoyle at the office door, as it stepped aside, bared its teeth in subtle dissatisfaction.
"Thank you for the reminder, Professor." Snape had no intention of entering. As Armostad passed him, he chuckled softly. "I have always known what I'm doing, and I'm very clear about the risks I will face."
Dumbledore in the office had already taken the opportunity to change into a clean, presentable wizard's robe. He had clearly detected the visitor's arrival in advance. As the wall closed and Armostad stepped into the office, Dumbledore was already standing behind his desk, smiling at the doorway.
"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore!" Although he had mentally prepared himself, when that steady, bright firelight illuminated his Bright eyes, cerulean eyes, eyes that condensed a century of life's wisdom, and those eyes fell upon him, Armostad Blaine still felt his face tighten and his heart rate unconsciously quicken. Fawkes in the brazier heard a somewhat familiar voice and was straining to extend his neck from a pile of ashes, curiously looking around.
Thirty feet away, the tall, thin body of the old man bathed in firelight contained not just a vast sea of magic, but his legendary life experiences, unparalleled by anyone, were a living history of modern European magic. In front of such a person, it was hard to imagine how the First and Second Dark Lords managed to last so long.
"Welcome, welcome~" Dumbledore smiled and extended his hand towards Armostad, who was striding forward. His penetrating gaze swept over Armostad's young face, lingering for only a very brief moment on his light purple eyes, before shifting his attention to the snow-dyed grey strands of hair. "Good evening, Armostad. I apologize for making you travel in such terrible weather. As compensation, may I offer you something to drink?"
"Thank you, that's exactly what I need." Armostad sat down at Dumbledore's direction. Dumbledore himself walked to a nearby bookshelf, pulled open a cabinet containing a Pensieve, and took out an aged bottle from a trapdoor. "For my health, I had to hand over most of my collection to Poppy, but this bottle... honestly, Armostad, I haven't shared it with anyone else!"
"Ogden's Old Firewhisky, over eighty years old, priceless on the market," Armostad sniffed the aroma of the whisky wafting in the air, smiling discreetly, "Thank you for your generosity, Headmaster Dumbledore. Just this alone makes my trip worthwhileâ" Time had bestowed a rich mellowness upon this valuable liquor. Armostad sipped the whisky slowly, silently waiting for his stiff fingers to regain their flexibility.
Dumbledore was not in a hurry to initiate the next conversation. He quietly watched Armostad, his gaze gentle. Although he asked no questions, he seemed to have already obtained what he wanted to know, and the result was satisfactory.
"Severus once told me that these past two years, you've been following in the footsteps of great predecessors, exploring magical ruins lost in time," Dumbledore smiled as he saw the color return to Armostad's cold, pale cheeks. "I'm very pleased that you haven't forgotten to diligently study magic and improve yourself after leaving this school. This makes me feel that the educational philosophy I've upheld at this school hasn't been a complete failure after all. At least, Hogwarts' education has made a very small number of people realize that, besides the Ministry of Magic, there are many other good places in the wizarding world."
Dumbledore did not mention the Board of Governors' appointment or anything about the Chamber of Secrets, which slightly surprised Armostad, who had already prepared his speeches and plans.
"Back when I was still in school, young wizards, after graduating, wouldn't rush to find their careers. Instead, they would take a graduation trip, traveling around to see the world. Before I graduated, I had planned to go with an old friend to Greece to search for the magical creatures mentioned in myths and to visit alchemists' experiments in Egypt..." Dumbledore's gaze fell into recollection, and he sighed with emotion.
"Making such a choice might be related to my Muggle background," Armostad set down his wine glass. Although he smiled in agreement, he felt confused internally. Before coming here, Armostad had thought many times about his conversation with Dumbledore. In his estimations, the inscrutable old man behind the desk might thoroughly question his experiences of the past two years and would not be deceived by his simple explanations.
Perhaps he would be curious about Armostad's true purpose in trying to return to the school, just like Professor Snape. Perhaps he would delve deeply into the perpetrator of the Chamber of Secrets incident with him and question his proposed preventive measures.
But now, Dumbledore seemed uninterested in any of this, merely wishing to simply chat with him. Could this be possible? Armostad didn't believe Dumbledore was so simple. He grew more wary inside, but outwardly he showed great interest in the current topic.
"Children from wizarding families take the marvels of magic for granted, while those like me who grew up in the Muggle world can better understand how precious it is for miracles to bloom before your eyes with just a flick of a wand. Compared to that, power and wealth seem so insignificant."
"No need to be humble, Armostad. Many children come from Muggle families, but the reverence for knowledge and the tireless pursuit of it are talents unique to you," Armostad's explanation hit Dumbledore's sweet spot. His deep gaze behind his half-moon spectacles showed relief. "Most importantly, even after numerous experiences, you can still describe magic with words like 'miracle blooming' rather than 'power'â"
Dumbledore blinked, a playful smile on his face. "When you were still studying here, Professor Snape privately expressed his concerns about your study of dark magic to me many times. And this led to several 'chance encounters' between the two of us late at night in the Restricted Section of the library."
Cough, cough! Armostad, who was sipping his wine, choked on the liquor. He wiped his crimson lips, his expression a bit like a child whose embarrassing past had been revealed by a parent. "It's rare for a wizard as busy as yourself to remember such small matters, Headmaster Dumbledore.
I never indulged in the powerful might of dark magic. I simply believe that whether it's dark magic or white magic, they are merely parts of magic. They are all worth learningâI mean, worth drawing upon. Blindly rejecting them only highlights our own ignorance."
"Of course, of course, a very philosophical statement," Dumbledore nodded in agreement. However, his expression immediately turned solemn. "But not everyone possesses clear self-awareness and strong self-control, Armostad. Therefore, Professor Snape's concerns about you back then were well-founded."