Morning Walk

In a forest shrouded in dense fog, someone was running for his life. Many masked figures followed behind him, waving their wands and sending streaks of green light at him.

"Hand it over!" one of them shouted. "Where did you hide it?!"

The pursued man gave a cold laugh. Then, for some unknown reason, he suddenly vanished. His pursuers cursed and cast spells wildly in every direction. One green beam unfortunately struck her, and she woke with a start.

She drew back her bed curtains and found that the sky was beginning to lighten. Everyone else was still fast asleep. To avoid unnecessary trouble, she got up early to wash, then cast spells such as "Haggard Appearance" and "Dull Complexion" on her face. Once she was sure she looked as unremarkable as she had the day before, she left the dormitory.

The second-floor common room had no tree canopy, but its ceiling was very low. A bookshelf stretched all the way up to it. Early in the morning, a boy in pajamas sat by the window reading a yellowed book. When he noticed someone appear, he looked startled. His gaze upon Pomona was hazy, as though he were looking at an unreal dream.

"Good morning," Pomona said to him, then looked at the timetable posted in the common area. Their first class that morning was Transfiguration, together with Ravenclaw.

"Are you real?" the boy asked.

"Why would you ask that?"

"My mother said I fell from the second floor. Maybe I damaged my brain," the boy said, staring at the ceiling. "How can there be magic in this world?"

Pomona understood. He was a first-year from a Muggle family, and he probably still thought he was dreaming.

"You can pinch yourself," Pomona encouraged him. "The more it hurts, the more real it is."

Then she ignored him, returned to the dormitory to retrieve the books she needed for the day, woke the others in the room, and left the common room.

Although the common room never lacked food, Pomona still wanted to eat breakfast in the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff common room was actually not far from it; they had only returned so late last night because the prefect had led them around in circles. When she entered the hall, she discovered that she was not the earliest one there. Quite a few older students and teachers had already begun eating.

"Oh, excuse me." She heard someone behind her. When she turned around, she found it was Headmaster Dumbledore. Even a headmaster needed to eat, so it was not strange to meet him in the dining hall, yet Pomona felt an odd discomfort all over her body.

"Good morning, Headmaster."

"Good morning, Miss Martin." Dumbledore's blue eyes watched her through his half-moon spectacles. "When I was your age, I often slept in until I was late. Did you get up so early because you're not used to the bed?"

"No." Pomona hesitated. "You know me?"

"Though I do not possess Ollivander's remarkable memory, I do remember you." Dumbledore was very tall. He bent down and lowered his voice to Pomona. "You were nearly admitted to Beauxbatons. It was your father who insisted that you come to Hogwarts."

Pomona drew in a sharp breath. She had not expected there to be so many twists behind it.

"Ah, what a lovely morning." Dumbledore looked at the Black Lake, shrouded in mountain mist. "It is still early. Might I have the honor of inviting you for a walk with me?"

Pomona agreed without much thought. She did have many questions that needed answering.

They left the castle and strolled along the Black Lake. Beneath the seemingly calm waters, there appeared to be other magical creatures. They sang soft songs underwater, their voices drifting up to the surface. The thick lawn felt like a carpet beneath their feet, and Dumbledore linked arms with her like a gentleman.

"What happened?" Once she was certain no one was nearby, Pomona asked Dumbledore.

"What do you wish to know?" Dumbledore asked in return.

"Beauxbatons. Why couldn't I go there?"

Dumbledore gathered his thoughts before speaking. "Have you heard the legend of the three brothers from The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Pomona?"

"Of course." Every young wizard had grown up hearing it. Naturally, Pomona knew it.

"The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, the Invisibility Cloak... Someone seems to have misunderstood something and confused the Sorcerer's Stone created by Nicolas with the Resurrection Stone," Dumbledore said. "The Sorcerer's Stone is also known as the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life. It is very miraculous, but it does not possess the power to revive the dead. The Resurrection Stone, however, is a Deathly Hallow. It does not exist in this world. Yet some believe that the Sorcerer's Stone is the Resurrection Stone, and since Beauxbatons was funded and built by Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel, some believe the Resurrection Stone is hidden in that school. There are even more Dark wizards lurking around the school than at Durmstrang. Your father was worried about your safety, which was why he had you attend Hogwarts."

"What do they want the Resurrection Stone for?"

"I don't know." Dumbledore spoke lightly. "Perhaps they have misunderstood something again and believe that I killed Grindelwald."

"He's still alive?"

"Though he has lost his freedom, he is still alive. When I was young, I made a blood pact with him that we would never harm one another. If I broke that oath, I would die as well. Look, am I not alive and well?"

Pomona knew Dumbledore was trying to cheer her up, but unease still lingered in her heart. Her smile faded as she asked, "My father... is he well?"

"Physically, he is well. Mentally, he misses you dearly, but he cannot see you."

"Why?"

"Perhaps you can ask him when you meet. Some matters are not suitable for an outsider to discuss, even if I am the headmaster." Dumbledore looked up at the sky. "The clouds are growing thicker. The weather in the mountains changes quickly. Let us return before it rains."

"Dumbledore, they say you and Grindelwald were once friends. Is that true?" Pomona asked.

"They? Who?" Dumbledore asked in return.

"Everyone," Pomona said.

"My dear, that depends on how you define a friend." Dumbledore looked toward the castle. "I believe someone has also told you that he killed all of my family, and that I turned against him only for revenge."

For a moment, Pomona did not know how to respond.

"Ordinary friends do not hurt each other. But there is another kind of friend, one who will do things that ordinary people cannot understand for the sake of a shared goal. If I told you that I do not hate Grindelwald, would you believe me?"

Pomona felt her mind fall into momentary confusion.

"Article eighty-four of the Hufflepuff rules: endure it, then take revenge afterward. But I believe you have already forgotten that." Dumbledore patted Pomona's shoulder. "An old friend of mine said it had met a true Hufflepuff: kind, fair, and tolerant. Life only comes once, so why not live it happily? Never let others tell you what you should or should not do. Filius once suggested that Hogwarts' school song should have a fixed tune. What tune did you use to sing it last night, Pomona?"

"I don't remember," Pomona lied. She had merely moved her lips and made no sound, so there had been no tune at all.

"Some say Hogwarts is the worst of the three major schools. What do you think, Pomona?" Dumbledore asked again. "To me, Hogwarts is my home. Every student is like family to me." Dumbledore spoke frankly. "What place in the world is safer than home?"

Pomona felt even more confused.

"What exactly are you trying to say, Headmaster?"

"Come, my dear. If we return any later, we will miss breakfast." Dumbledore linked arms with Pomona and strode toward the castle.