In the early morning, the autumn wind blew across the grassy grounds of Hogwarts, carrying a desolate chill all the way down the long stone corridors.
"It's getting colder and colder," Harry muttered, pulling his robes tight.
"Maybe it's because we have Defense Against the Dark Arts next period?" Ron said, his face pale. "I was just discharged from the Hospital Wing!"
Poor Ron... Harry looked at his friend with deep concern. Ron had been struck by the Killing Curse during Professor Hamilton's memory projection and had been lying in Madam Pomfrey's care for several days.
'He was finally discharged from the hospital last night, but today we have to face Defense Against the Dark Arts again.'
"You need to be careful this time," Hermione cautioned. "Don't... stand in weird spots again."
'Come to think of it, why would anyone walk directly into a Killing Curse that was cast into the sky?'
Harry looked at Ron and shook his head.
"How was I supposed to know he would release... release that..." Ron muttered to himself, seemingly traumatized.
But what good was psychological trauma? The three of them sat down in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom once again.
As class time approached, the second-floor office door opened precisely on time.
"..."
The silent Professor Hamilton emerged.
'What does her face look like beneath that pale silver mask?'
Harry wondered curiously, guessing that she must look like a wrinkled old woman.
'After all, Professor Hamilton isn't much taller than me. She must have shrunk because she is so old.'
While Harry was catastrophically guessing her age, Professor Hamilton raised her ebony wand and tapped it against the wooden railing.
The metal headbands that the young wizards had cautiously hidden in their bags floated out one by one.
'Here it comes again!'
Bang!
Another sudden wave of dizziness shot through Harry's head. Before he could even hear a few groans of panic from his classmates, everything in front of him was once again shrouded in silver mist.
As the mist dissipated, what came into view was no longer Durmstrang's dark stone classroom. Instead, it was a place almost exactly the same as the classroom he had just been sitting in.
'Has the headband stopped working?'
Harry paused for a moment and looked around, but he didn't see Ron or Hermione. 'This is definitely still inside a memory.'
However, it seemed that... he slightly raised his head and looked at the man standing at the door of the second-floor office.
"Professor Dumbledore?!" He stared in astonishment as a man, who bore a striking resemblance to a younger Dumbledore, slowly descended the steps.
Harry would never forget that gentle smile and those twinkling blue eyes.
'It's Professor Dumbledore!'
'Professor Hamilton... how did she do that?' If Hermione were here, she might be able to analyze it. But after thinking for a long time, Harry could only come to the conclusion that it was purely amazing.
"Alright, gentlemen and ladies of the first year, please be quiet," Dumbledore spoke slowly, his gentle eyes sweeping over each student.
Harry wondered if it was just his imagination, but he felt that Dumbledore's gaze lingered directly on him for a few seconds.
"Today is our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class," Dumbledore said, flicking his wand and opening the textbook on his desk.
"Today we are going to learn the first and most important lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts." Dumbledore flicked his wand again, and a piece of chalk flew up to write on the blackboard: Love.
"That's right, this is our first lesson," Dumbledore said slowly. He appeared much more gentle and refined than the terrifying Durmstrang Professor, and his words were full of wisdom.
"The power of love is immense."
"Even the most powerful dark magic, or even the Unforgivable Curses, cannot overcome the magic of love."
Dumbledore's words were as gentle as a breeze, making it feel like a warm spring morning rather than a chilly autumn day. Harry felt an unusual sense of peace in his heart.
He slowly sat down as he listened to Dumbledore's voice.
'If only Professor Dumbledore were the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor right now...' Harry suddenly had this thought.
He subconsciously let out a soft laugh, which, of course, did not attract the attention of anyone in the memory.
Dumbledore continued to explain the power of love, and also introduced basic concepts of dark magic to the students.
Compared to the Durmstrang Professor, Professor Hamilton did not seem to blur or censor Dumbledore's lecture on dark magic.
'Perhaps she trusts Dumbledore a lot?'
"So when you are learning magic, you must be careful not to let darkness corrupt your heart, and you must also know..." Dumbledore paused. "Don't become like [AUDIO OBSCURED]."
'Like whom?'
Harry paused for a moment. Dumbledore had just said a name... but it was heavily censored, exactly like the name in the Durmstrang memory!
'Is that name Voldemort?'
Harry subconsciously thought so, but looking at the rather young Dumbledore... he remembered that Voldemort's rise to power was only a little over a decade ago.
'Who could it be?'
"So, does any gentleman or lady know what we should do when faced with an Unforgivable Curse?" While Harry was still puzzled, Dumbledore had already steered the lesson in a new direction.
"Oh? Tom, do you know?" Dumbledore pointed to a student.
It was a boy with black hair who looked quite calm, even slightly gloomy.
He nodded politely, then slowly stood up and said, "There's no other way."
"The most distinctive feature of the Unforgivable Curses is that they have no counter-curse."
"All that exists is pure power."
"That's a good answer, Tom." Dumbledore smiled and nodded, gesturing for the student to sit down. "But I need to correct one thing."
"There is no true power in the Unforgivable Curses, only cruelty... and hatred."
"Only the purest inclination of hatred can unleash an Unforgivable Curse, and for that exact reason, it has no conventional counter-curse." Dumbledore's words seemed to carry a heavy hint of warning.
All the students nodded in agreement, including the student named Tom, who nodded slightly in polite approval.
The class ended quickly.
It felt much faster than Harry had imagined, but when the silver mist finally dissipated, the classroom clock showed that it was time to end the period.
'Was Professor Dumbledore's lecture just too captivating?'
Harry looked at Ron. Ron's usually pale face was now flushed with healthy color. In Professor Dumbledore's peaceful memory, he seemed to be much more comfortable.
Hermione, after removing her headband, immediately exclaimed excitedly, "These are Professor Dumbledore's memories!"
'Did you just realize that?'
"That's Professor Dumbledore!"
"I recognized him, but it seems to have been from many years ago," Harry said after a moment's thought.
"Is that Professor Dumbledore?" Ron paused for a moment, then said in confusion, "I just thought it was some random old Hogwarts Professor."
"You can actually recognize that it's Hogwarts..." Hermione shook her head helplessly. "That must be Professor Dumbledore from fifty years ago, right?"
"I never imagined that Professor Hamilton could obtain Professor Dumbledore's personal memories..." Hermione said, her eyes shining with joy and admiration. "He is the greatest wizard in the world!"
"If every lesson in the future is Professor Dumbledore..."
"Greater than Lockhart?" Ron interrupted at the most opportune moment.
"They... their paths of greatness are different." Hermione rolled her eyes and looked up at Professor Hamilton, who was standing completely silently on the second-floor balcony.