Inside the Headmaster's Office, soft lamplight spilled across the massive oak desk.
Dumbledore, dressed in pajamas printed with stars, sat leisurely at the desk, intending to write his monthly letter to Gellert.
Sigh~
At the end of every month, whenever Dumbledore picked up his pen to write, a wave of hesitation would involuntarily rise from the depths of his heart.
To be honest, the current Dumbledore no longer needed to write letters to Gellert Grindelwald.
Because almost every Sunday morning, he would specifically set aside time to visit his old friend at St Mungos Hospital and chat briefly with him.
Such frequent visits were not actually Dumbledore's original intention.
It was simply because if he went half a month without visiting Gellert, the Dark Lord's condition would rapidly deteriorate. St Mungos' Emergency Department would then dispatch an express Owl to deliver a critical condition notice post-haste into Dumbledore's hands.
After two experiences of being awakened at midnight by the sound of an Owl hitting the glass, followed by hurriedly throwing a robe over his pajamas, slipping into slippers, and casting Apparition to rush to St Mungos, Dumbledore finally chose to compromise.
What made him most helpless was that every time he rushed to the hospital in a panic and appeared at Gellert's bedside, the critical Gellert would, as if by a miracle, instantly stabilize and return to his previous state within the next two to three days.
He wasn't even trying to act anymore!
Dumbledore naturally knew about the little schemes in Gellert's heart.
He knew perfectly well that there was a ninety-nine percent chance Gellert's illness was faked.
The purpose was self-evident: nothing more than wanting an excuse to stay in Britain so that Dumbledore would visit him often.
But even knowing this, Dumbledore still didn't dare risk that tiny one percent. What if?
What if Gellert thought he was being ignored, lost heart, and gave up on life—
Although Dumbledore had been trying his best to deny and resist the fact, he had to admit that after six years of intermittent and detached contact, the fellow named Gellert Grindelwald had, like stubborn weeds growing in spring, silently crept back into his closed heart and taken deep root there.
Because Gellert was in his heart, Dumbledore maintained the habit of writing letters. On the other side, Gellert seemed to have no objection, always replying in the same manner as before upon receiving a letter.
In this way, time flowed quietly through the exchange of letters, and both of them tacitly guarded this tradition of corresponding once a month.
To outsiders, such a method of communication might seem overly simple and plain, but only they knew that the emotions and longing contained between the lines were far more meaningful than any grand ceremony.
Since Adelaide entered Hogwarts, Edward, the tool who was originally responsible for writing reports, had been liberated. Dumbledore had to gather information everywhere, piecing together Adelaide's progress reports bit by bit through casual chats with Charlie Weasley and Cho Chang, or by directly asking various Professors about Adelaide's academic progress.
Dumbledore fell into deep thought. What had Adelaide been up to recently—right!
He remembered Filius telling him last night that during yesterday's Charms Class, Adelaide had once again displayed amazing talent. In just 4 seconds, she made the feather in front of her float lightly in the air, something even Tom Riddle back then couldn't do.
Filius also claimed that at this rate of development, Adelaide could win at least 10 consecutive dueling championships after graduation.
This couldn't help but remind Dumbledore of the valley many years ago, where the equally brilliant Gellert had once lain on the roof of the old house with him under the starry night sky, proudly recounting his heroic deeds in fourth grade: he had challenged six seniors a year above him alone and emerged victorious.
Thinking of this, Dumbledore smiled slightly and wrote on the parchment: "Dear Gellert, I hope this news about Adelaide makes you proud..."
A silver Tabby Cat Patronus slipped nimbly through the crack in the door into the Headmaster's Office.
Immediately following, the voice of Minerva McGonagall shouted from the mouth of the Tabby Cat Patronus: "Albus, something's wrong! Miss MacFusty has broken through the Enchantment—and she's carrying a student on her back! The situation is extremely critical, please come to the front of the Castle immediately!"
Dumbledore, who was writing furiously at his desk, heard this sudden news, and the pen in his hand abruptly paused mid-air. He then instantly looked up, his eyes, deep as the sea and sharp as a hawk's, staring intently at the Tabby Cat Patronus.
After a brief observation and confirmation, he was finally certain that this was indeed an emergency message from Minerva. It seemed the mole sent by Lord Voldemort had finally couldn't help but make a move.
Without the slightest hesitation, he stood up immediately, quickly donned a black cloak, and hurried toward the door.
The originally sleeping portraits were awakened one after another, and they began to chatter loudly, discussing what on earth had happened.
Dumbledore did not stop to pay attention to these noisy voices but walked straight through the corridor and left quickly.
When he reached the second-floor staircase, a figure appeared on the stairs leading to Ravenclaw Tower, calling his name loudly while racing down the stairs like lightning.
Dumbledore looked up at the sound, squinting slightly in that direction, only to see that the person arriving was actually Adelaide's good friend, Cho Chang!
Seeing Cho Chang in such a hurried and panicked state, Dumbledore's heart couldn't help but sink, and an ominous premonition immediately welled up in his mind.
But he still maintained a forced calm, asking gently: "Miss Cho Chang, it's already so late. What on earth has happened to make you so flustered?"
Cho Chang had clearly run all the way here. At this moment, she was panting heavily, out of breath, but she still used all her strength to shout: "Adelaide! Adelaide is... she's riding on the back of a Dragon!"
In that instant, Dumbledore felt as if his brain had been struck hard by a heavy hammer. A strong sense of dizziness washed over him, making him almost unable to stand steady.
The "student on the Dragon's back" Minerva mentioned turned out to be Adelaide. This was truly the worst-case scenario!
If something happened to her, the consequences would be simply unthinkable!
Not to mention the immense pain and self-reproach he would personally endure, the pressure of facing Gellert and the Wizengamot alone would be enough to make him feel suffocated.
Lord Voldemort had truly played a masterstroke. A Dragon appearing at the school and a student dying because of it—and that student just happened to be of Grindelwald's bloodline!
By then, not only would Hogwarts' reputation be severely damaged, but even the peaceful situation might be shattered. With Lord Voldemort fanning the flames in the shadows, it might even trigger a new war... No, nothing must happen to Adelaide!
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