Dumbledore: I Can Guarantee It with My Life!

Dumbledore's tone was strange, as if he were confessing something.

"Perhaps I really can't do anything... ruining everything because of a momentary decision, causing everyone pain, and making them pay the price for me..."

He blinked slowly, his eyes growing increasingly dim.

"At that time, the connection between Fawkes and you became very weak... That place must have been very dangerous, right? I have to tell you here... I'm sorry..."

Wizet looked at Dumbledore with a puzzled expression, sensing something was wrong. "Headmaster Dumbledore, are you alright?"

He suddenly thought of his past life and the deceased director of the Fawley.

When the old dean was young, he may have acted impulsively or due to ideological conflicts, which made his relationship with his family increasingly tense. He even ran away from home in a fit of pique and never returned.

By middle age, the old dean had his own business, but he also experienced the deceit and treachery of the business world.

When the old dean wanted to reconcile with his family, he was devastated to receive the devastating news that his family members had passed away one after another.

Later, the old director received a plastic bag full of loose change. It was money he had given to an orphan, but unexpectedly, the orphan came to him again and returned the money.

What surprised him most was that the orphan turned out to be his long-lost grand-nephew.

Since then, he has established a Fawley, taken on the role of Fawley director, and gradually shifted his focus to the Fawley.

Nevertheless, in her previous life, Wizet would still see the old headmaster grieving alone, licking his past wounds, and enduring the torment of never seeing his loved ones again.

Dumbledore's current state was very similar to that of the old headmaster, who was deeply saddened.

All of this stems from past experiences, which have caused unspeakable pain, and the responsibilities they bear, which force them to silently endure the torment.

However, it was in this state that Dumbledore made Wizet feel even closer to him.

Compared to a man who is "widely recognized as the greatest wizard of our time" and holds a series of titles such as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump, and Grand Magician, Dumbledore at this moment seems more real.

He had both a great side and the torment he had to endure alone.

He rarely revealed this torment, not even Aberforth had ever seen it, yet he himself had the misfortune to witness it...

Dumbledore murmured, "I have cared too little for them... I am responsible for all of this... I even repeated the same mistake, until a second bad outcome occurred..."

His hands were clenched into fists, and one could vaguely see a shocking amount of blood seeping through his fingernails.

Wizet took a deep breath, making sure she spoke clearly before calling out, "Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"I seem to have talked too much." Dumbledore he regained consciousness, a look of helplessness quickly appearing on his face. "I always feel more relaxed around you."

"Perhaps it's because... I've received many Christmas gifts over the past ten years. But only your gift, a box of colorful candies, is something I truly love!"

He glanced at the dark night sky. "It's getting late. You must be exhausted. Go back and rest!"

Wizet shook her head and said slowly, "When I was studying at the Hog's Head, I observed those wizard duels. Before the duel, they would always provoke each other with words."

"It seems you're trying to disrupt the wizard's mindset in this way. Headmaster Dumbledore... this is Voldemort's way of interfering with you, nothing more."

"Perhaps I was indeed distracted," Dumbledore said, his voice tinged with self-reproach. "If Harry hadn't been protected, if you weren't the Guardian..."

"Perhaps Harry will be killed by the Killing Curse, or perhaps Voldemort's plot will succeed, and he'll gain the support of the Obscurus. I really don't want to drag you all into this..."

Wizet shook her head and replied, "That's all hypothetical. Harry is lying perfectly fine in the Hospital Wing, and I'm still alive and kicking."

"It's not that you dragged us into this; it's that Voldemort always coveted the Obscurus. He had Professor Quirrell teach me so that the Obscurus go berserk."

"I don't know about Harry's situation, but if it weren't for Harry, he wouldn't have fallen more than ten years ago. I think... he must have hated Harry to the core."

"I think not only do I need to rest, but you also need to relax. You've taken on a lot of work, and I can feel it just from the few words Mr. Aberforth has mentioned."

Dumbledore interlaced his fingers, slightly nervous. "What did he tell you?"

Wizet carefully chose her words, "I didn't say much... I mainly mentioned Credence, and then... I'll say a few... rather unpleasant things to you."

Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief, as if he didn't mind at all. "That's just him, always so straightforward."

Wizet pushed the plate of bread towards him. "Headmaster Dumbledore, you should have some too! As I said before, I can't really know what you've been through."

"But I'm willing to offer a little support! Like this piece of bread... like that night, when you were the only one... willing to believe in me!"

"We are all human beings, and it is impossible for us to be perfect. If we feel like sinners because of this, we will surely live in torment and pain every day!"

"Thank you, Wizet ..." Dumbledore's voice was extremely hoarse, with a hint of choking.

"I should be thanking you all." After a long day of running around, Wizet couldn't resist getting sleepy and let out a long yawn.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm going back to rest now. Good night."

"Good night."

After Wizet left, Fawkes sat down on the table, looking at the crispy breadcrumbs, wondering whether he should take a small bite and taste them.

Dumbledore looked at the empty seat and picked up a piece of bread that was still warm.

He took a small bite carefully, chewing with great deliberation.

His vision was quickly blurred by tears, and two lines of clear tears filled the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and slowly flowed down.

Dumbledore stood up and walked to the Mirror of Erised.

His gaze no longer darted away, and the sadness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a tenderness—a tenderness for his family and loved ones.

After finishing a piece of bread, a faint smile appeared on his face, and he said in a voice that sounded almost like singing, "Merry Christmas..."

After an unknown amount of time, Snape suddenly burst into the Headmaster's Office.

His expression was serious. "Wizet seems to be back. He wasn't possessed by the Dark Lord, was he?"

Dumbledore had regained his composure and sat back down in his chair, asking with some surprise, "You're still staking out the eighth floor?"

Snape scoffed. "It's his owl... just like its master, delivering mail and learning knowledge."

"Your summary is very accurate." Dumbledore laughed. "And there's more good news..."

"He wasn't possessed by Voldemort; he just happened to go to a special place and had an unforgettable experience."

Snape frowned. "An unforgettable experience? About the magic on that mirror?"

"Yes...you'll understand once you try this!" Dumbledore pushed the plate forward. "Voldemort couldn't do these things... Wizet isn't possessed, I can guarantee it with my life!"