Interview (Part 2)

The bitter cold had frozen the vast Black Lake into a sheet of solid ice. In the faint light, the Forbidden Forest, swaying in the biting wind, looked more like a rippling, jagged lake.

"Before Easter last year, I remember you wrote to tell me that 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."

Amosta and Snape walked side by side toward the castle rising at the edge of the cliff. As they passed the three tall goalposts by the pitch, Amosta gazed at the flickering firelight from Hagrid's Hut, while Snape studied the young man beside him, whose features had grown deeper than when he graduated three and a half years ago. His voice carried an unreadable meaning.

"But shortly afterward, The Daily Prophet published an interesting piece of news. The Norwegian Ministry of Magic stated that someone had illegally broken into their Dragon reserve, stolen a precious Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon egg, and slaughtered a Norwegian Red Scale Dragon in front of two Muggles who had wandered into the reserve by mistake. Amosta, I assume these two matters had nothing to do with each other?"

"What do you think, Professor?"

Amosta withdrew his gaze from the distance and looked toward the tower, at the only room with firelight among a row of dark windows. He smiled.

"Or rather, what sort of answer were you hoping to get from me?"

A habitual sneer curled at Snape's lips, but before the words could leave his mouth, he suddenly realized that the young man beside him was no longer that poor student from years ago, the one who disliked forming deep connections with his classmates and preferred to immerse himself in his own world. He had already grown rapidly into a wizard even Snape could not quite see through.

"It doesn't matter to me, Amosta. I merely wanted to remind you."

The warm reunion Dumbledore had envisioned did not happen between this teacher and student. Snape lowered his head and strode toward the castle.

"I hope you know what you're doing now, and I hope you understand that this school is not as peaceful as it looks—especially in recent years, Amosta. If you still have the habit of keeping a low profile, then keep it, especially in front of Dumbledore.

My final advice is to leave this place as soon as possible. Leave the British wizarding world, even, and return only after everything has settled... If your mind is still as sharp as it was back then, you should understand what I'm saying."

Perhaps because tonight's password had been too ordinary, the stone monster at the office entrance bared its teeth in concealed displeasure as it moved aside.

"Thank you for the warning, Professor."

Snape showed no intention of entering. As Amosta passed him, he gave a soft laugh.

"I've always known what I was doing, and I'm fully aware of the risks I'll face."

Dumbledore had already found time to change into a clean, respectable Wizard Robe. He had evidently sensed his visitor's arrival in advance. By the time the wall closed and Amosta stepped into the office, Dumbledore was already standing behind his desk, smiling warmly at the doorway.

"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore!"

Although he had prepared himself beforehand, when those bright blue eyes—steady and luminous beneath the firelight, carrying the wisdom of a century of life—fell upon him, Amosta Breen still felt his skin tighten and his heartbeat quicken involuntarily.

Fawkes, in the brazier, heard a somewhat familiar voice and struggled to stretch his neck out from the ashes, looking around curiously.

Thirty feet away, the tall, lean old man cloaked in firelight possessed more than magic as vast as a sea of clouds within his frame. His legendary life, no less remarkable than anyone's, was itself a living history of modern European magic.

Before someone like this, it was hard to imagine how the first and second Dark Lords had lasted so long.

"Welcome, welcome~"

Dumbledore smiled and held out his hand to greet Amosta as he strode over. His penetrating gaze swept over Amosta's young face, lingering only briefly on those pale violet eyes before shifting to his snow-dusted gray hair.

"Good evening, Amosta. I'm sorry to have made you travel in such dreadful weather. As compensation, may I offer you something to drink?"

"Thank you. That's exactly what I need."

Amosta sat down at Dumbledore's gesture. Dumbledore himself walked over to a bookcase, opened a cabinet holding the Pensieve, and took an aged bottle from beneath a false panel.

"For the sake of my health, I had to hand most of my collection over to Poppy. But this bottle... to be honest, Amosta, I've never shared it with anyone else!"

"Ogden's Old Firewhisky. Anything aged over eighty years is priceless and unavailable on the market."

Amosta sniffed the fragrance of liquor drifting through the air and smiled modestly. "Thank you for your generosity, Headmaster Dumbledore. This trip was already worth it for this alone—"

Time had given this expensive spirit a rich, mellow depth. Amosta took small sips, silently waiting for his stiff fingers to regain their flexibility.

Dumbledore was in no hurry to begin the next part of their conversation. He watched Amosta quietly, his gaze gentle. Though he asked no questions, he seemed to have already learned what he wanted to know, and the result appeared fairly satisfactory.

"Severus once told me that over the past two years, you had been following in the footsteps of those great forebears, exploring magical ruins lost to time."

When Amosta's cold-paled cheeks had regained their color, Dumbledore smiled.

"I'm glad that after leaving this school, you still hadn't forgotten to study magic diligently and improve yourself. It makes me feel that the educational principles I have upheld at this school all these years have not been a complete failure.

At the very least, Hogwarts education has helped a very small number of people realize that, besides the Ministry of Magic, there are many other worthwhile paths in the wizarding world."

Dumbledore did not mention the Board of Governors' appointment or anything concerning the Chamber of Secrets, which surprised Amosta slightly. He had already prepared his arguments and plans.

"When I was still at school, young wizards didn't rush to find a way forward after graduation. They all took a graduation trip and went out to see the world. Before I graduated, I planned to go to Greece with an old friend to search for the magical creatures famed in myth, then visit Egypt to see the alchemists' experiments...

But unfortunately, some accident interrupted my plans, and I have regretted it almost all my life."

Dumbledore's gaze sank into reminiscence as he spoke with feeling.

"Perhaps making that choice had something to do with my Muggle upbringing."

Amosta set down his glass. Though he smiled in agreement, confusion rose within him.

Before coming here, Amosta had considered the course of this conversation with Dumbledore many times. In his projections, the inscrutable old man behind the desk might probe deeply into his experiences of the past two years rather than be fooled by his simple explanations.

Perhaps, like Professor Snape, he would be curious about Amosta's true purpose in trying to return to the school.

Perhaps he would discuss the culprit behind the Chamber of Secrets attack in depth and question the preventive measures Amosta had proposed.

But now, Dumbledore seemed uninterested in all of that. He only wanted to have a simple chat with him.

Was that possible?

Amosta did not believe Dumbledore could be so straightforward. He grew more vigilant inwardly, but outwardly, he appeared deeply interested in their current topic.

"Children from wizarding families take the wonders of magic for granted. People like me, who grew up in the Muggle world, understand all the more how precious it is to make miracles bloom before one's eyes with a wave of a wand. Compared with that, power and wealth seem utterly insignificant."

"No need to be modest, Amosta. There are many children from Muggle families, but the reverence for knowledge and tireless pursuit of it that you possess are gifts unique to you."

Amosta's explanation clearly pleased Dumbledore. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his deep eyes showed satisfaction.

"Most importantly, after all your experiences, you can still describe magic with words like 'miracles bloom,' rather than 'power'—"

Dumbledore blinked, a playful smile appearing on his face.

"When you were still studying here, Professor Snape privately expressed his concerns to me several times about your research into Dark Magic. That was what led to the many 'chance encounters' the two of us had in the Restricted Section of the library late at night."

Cough, cough!

Amosta, who had been taking small sips of liquor, choked on the strong drink. He wiped his crimson lips, looking somewhat like a child whose embarrassing past had been exposed by a parent.

"It's rare for a wizard as busy as you to remember such trivial matters, Headmaster Dumbledore. I was never fascinated by the great power of Dark Magic. I merely believed that whether it is Dark Magic or White Magic, it is all simply part of magic—something worth studying, I mean, worth learning from. Blind rejection only highlights our own ignorance."

"Of course, of course. A very philosophical statement."

Dumbledore nodded approvingly, but his expression soon turned solemn.

"However, not everyone possesses clear self-awareness and strong self-control, Amosta. So Professor Snape's concerns about you back then were justified."

PS: I hope everyone will offer more support. Thank you!