A Conversation with Dumbledore

Dumbledore waved away the Patronus Charm's glow, then leaned closer with great interest, his deep blue eyes filled with inquiry and curiosity. "Can you hear me, Loren?"

Although the principal was right next to him, the Dementor Loren heard the voice from a great distance, with a long, indistinct echo. He turned his head left and right, savoring this truly strange sensation.

The binding force disappeared, along with the burning sensation of the Patronus Charm. The scene before me seemed shrouded in a misty fog, hazy and indistinct. The tactile feedback from my body was very dull, with only the unchanging cold and slightly stiff limbs.

Dumbledore asked again, "Can you hear me, Loren?"

The Dementor Loren focused his attention, trying to move his stiff limbs and muscles to make a sound from his throat, but only a muffled exhale came out. "Huff... slurp..."

Loren paused slightly upon hearing the sound. Dementor possess both a throat and a tongue for vocalization, so they should be able to speak. He tried again. "Hoo... roo..."

"Don't rush, Loren. Although Dementor have bodies that resemble humans, they are completely different creatures." Dumbledore seemed to understand him. "If you can control its body, try other actions first."

The Dementor Loren slowly moved his head, hidden under his hood, his movements sluggish and stiff. He manipulated his two stiff, rotting, withered hands to wave downwards, attempting to fly.

The next moment, Loren suddenly felt dizzy. After a spinning sensation, the Dementor's senses disappeared, replaced by the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet. Having just escaped the Dementor's stagnant and cold body, Loren felt an indescribable sense of ease.

The body feels warm and flexible, there's no need to worry about stiff hands and feet, you can hear your own strong heartbeat and breathing, your tongue and throat are completely normal, and your vision is clear.

"Excuse me, Headmaster, I think I've exited." Loren said, pressing the tip of his wand to his temple again, trying to reconstruct a false memory in his mind to re-enter the Boggart Dementor's body.

But Dumbledore fed him a memory first, and nothing happened.

"Headmaster?" Loren waved his wand. "Shall I try again?"

Dumbledore shook his head at him and smiled gently, "No need, that's enough."

Loren was overjoyed and couldn't wait to ask, "Headmaster, have you figured out the secret Boggart is hiding?"

"Hmm...not yet." Dumbledore waved Boggart back into the trunk and fastened the two latches. "But at least I can confirm that Boggart is safe for you."

"Could you explain it more clearly?" Loren followed Dumbledore to sit on either side of the desk.

Dumbledore picked up the teapot and shook it, poured himself a cup of black tea, then looked up at Loren: "Orange juice, Pumpkin Juice, black tea? Or something else?"

"Oh, Pumpkin Juice is all I need." Loren couldn't help but admire the old man's patience. He was so anxious, it felt like a Crookshanks was fighting with Fang, Dumbledore could still calmly drink his tea.

Dumbledore shook the teapot in his hand again, and the liquid poured into Loren's cup had turned into Pumpkin Juice:

"I've also studied Boggart. Unlike those dark Magical Creatures with obvious biological characteristics, these guys seem to appear out of nowhere. They don't reproduce, they don't eat... Although they can transform into things that people fear, they don't feed on fear. They're similar to Dementor, yet completely different..."

"Judging from its various characteristics, we can conclude that it is some kind of magical creation of a wizard... whatever the purpose of the wizard who created this creation, whether it is to prolong life, pass on memories, or something else."

Dumbledore put down the teapot and shrugged. "It seems like all of this has failed now."

Loren picked up the warm Pumpkin Juice and took a small sip, then asked in confusion, "Then why is it that only my consciousness can enter the Boggart's body?"

Do you know what Magical portrait is?

Dumbledore pointed to the old headmasters on the wall behind him. Just as they were about to speak, Dumbledore waved his hand, flipping them all over and pinning them to the wall.

"Magical portrait can carry a portion of a wizard's memories, but this requires a special painting method. Generally, when painting, the wizard's blood, ashes from burned hair, or something else are added... In short, the portrait needs to be linked to the wizard."

Loren's mind worked quickly; he understood as soon Dumbledore finished speaking. Pointing at the wooden box with some disbelief, he asked, "Professor, are you saying that the Boggart was connected to me when it was created?"

"It's not connected to you," Dumbledore explained. "It's the mysterious wizard who created the Boggart. The mark he used for communication happens to be one that you also possess."

"What is it?" Loren asked hurriedly.

"Hmm... I'm not entirely sure either." Dumbledore's unhurried voice sounded like he was about to explode with anxiety. "Perhaps it's hair color, perhaps it's the frequency of Magic Power fluctuations, perhaps it's bloodline, perhaps it's some special part of the soul... who knows?"

Loren quickly went through the examples he had given.

Bloodline?

Is it the Morgan family bloodline?

soul?

The soul of a time traveler?

I've been thinking about it for ages and my head is spinning. It seems like all of these are possible, but none of them seem to be.

"Never mind, never mind." Loren waved his hand and slumped into a chair. "You've already said there's no danger, so let's leave it at that for now."

Dumbledore smiled, then abruptly changed the subject, "Last weekend, to check on the situation at Hogsmeade... well, you know, Activity Week has been delayed for a long time, we can't afford to wait any longer, we need to make sure the Dementor roaming outside the school haven't affected the village..."

Loren lowered his eyes; the warm Pumpkin Juice emitted a sweet aroma. Here we go again, Dumbledore's characteristic rambling, unfocused speech.

Dumbledore muttered a long, irrelevant rambling, and just as Loren was about to speak up and remind him of the important point, the old headmaster raised his voice slightly. "I went to the Three Broomsticks Pub with Filius, and he mentioned you to me..."

Loren paused in his Pumpkin Juice drinking and looked up at the old headmaster.

Dumbledore was also looking at him, his gentle smile making his eyes slightly narrow, making him look exceptionally kind.

"Soul...soul..." Dumbledore picked up his cup and took a sip of his black tea, his tone tinged with a hint of melancholy. "To be honest, Loren, your pace of exploration on the path of magic far exceeds my expectations, even surpassing that of many learned Ancient Magic experts."

Loren modestly shrank his head. "Opportunity and luck."

"Filius told me that you had asked him about soul Magic Power, and he suggested that you try Dark Arts... Filius also said that after he told you to ask me for permission, there was no follow-up, and he asked me if I was teaching you Dark Arts."

Dumbledore feigned a wronged and regretful expression. "It's a pity that Filius doesn't know you never even looked for me, not even to discuss the topic of the soul with this old man."

A faint murmur came from the old headmasters on the wall; they seemed to be mocking Dumbledore a hundred years old, for being so shameless as to act like that.

Loren pondered for a moment, wondering why he hadn't sought out Dumbledore back then.

Oh, having just dealt with Wormtail Peter, I still feel uneasy about seeing the headmaster... Then there's the soul Magic Power. He's always felt that Dumbledore and Flamel are just giving him the runaround, so he doesn't really expect to get any answers from them.

Then things got busy.

"Professor, that's Dark Arts. You're the headmaster of Hogwarts ..." Loren gently reminded him that it wasn't appropriate. "Let's talk about soul Magic Power instead."

Dumbledore smiled, no longer dwelling on the matter. "Remember what I said? Love is the greatest Magic Power. The Grey Lady said that wisdom is the most precious treasure of mankind. Mr. Gryffindor reveres courage..."

"The soul, the wizard's most mysterious yearning, even the most wondrous magic cannot reveal its true nature to us... But there have always been lucky pioneers who ventured into this realm in very ancient times." Dumbledore looked at Loren, his expression gradually becoming serious. "But to this day, no one has lifted the veil of the soul. Loren, do you know why?"

"Why?" Loren asked, bewildered.

"Lady Rowena the Grey Lady understood the beauty of wisdom, and the more she tried to convey this beauty to her daughter, Miss Helena, the less Miss Helena could comprehend it, ultimately leading to a regret that has lasted for a thousand years. Gryffindor tried to make Slytherin understand the core of their courage, while Slytherin tried to make Gryffindor see what they saw..."

"So many great wizards could not see that striving to become wise would lead one astray from the path of wisdom; overcoming fear in pursuit of courage would only result in the thirst for courage exceeding the oppression of fear... The more one clings to gaining, the more one will lose."

Dumbledore blue eyes filled with pity and sorrow. "There was a poor man who was obsessed with the most powerful Magic Power, and only after losing everything did he glimpse a little of the Magic Power of love. I tried to convey this understanding to others, but the more I emphasized it, the further I pushed that man away."

"Loren, whatever you think the Magic Power hidden in the soul is, the more you want it before you actually see it, the further you will get from it."

After the speech, a long silence fell over the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore stared blankly at the black tea in his cup, trying to see the distant past reflected in the clear tea, to see one person after another who had appeared in his life, and who had eventually left him.

Loren quickly began to think. He roughly understood what Dumbledore meant, but he was still completely confused.

After a long while, Loren raised his head and asked somewhat blankly, "Then what should I do, sir?"

Dumbledore winked at him. "Perhaps you should be the one to tell me the answer."

"Ah?"

October 22, Friday, one week before the full moon.

The rainy season, which had lasted for almost half a month, has temporarily stopped, and the sky over Hogwarts has revealed a clear blue that has not been seen for a long time. The forests and lakes exude a cool, refreshing mist that makes it easy to breathe.

Having just finished a busy week of classes, the young wizards seized the rare good weather and ran around outside the Castle, breathing in the fresh air.

Next to the North Tower is a low hill covered with lush, soft grass, a favorite spot that the third-year wizards discovered after their Divination Class.

Older wizards have other good places, and Hogwarts tradition is to never reveal the layout of Hogwarts to younger students, so this is currently the territory of the third year students.

They wandered on the slopes of the hill, lay flat on the uneven rocks... rolling on the grass, tumbling down the hill to the foot, laughing and climbing back up to do it all again.

Draco Malfoy of Slytherin lay on the grass, his hands behind his head, gazing intently at the vast blue sky, as if trying to discern something from it.

Although it had stopped raining, damp dew and rainwater still clung to the blades of grass. Draco seemed oblivious, letting the dew soak into his magic robes and spread a chilling sheen across his skin.

Astoria Greengrass stood beside him, her little face full of hesitation. After struggling for a long time, the little girl still didn't want to lie down like him, but she still sat down quietly.

As she got closer, Astoria noticed that Draco's lips and cheeks were moving. Curious, she asked, "Are you eating candy?"

"A leaf of Mandrake." Draco opened his mouth without blinking, his face expressionless, and stuck out his tongue to show the girl.

"Is it delicious?" Astoria asked innocently.

Draco glanced at her and said dismissively, "It tastes awful."

"Oh..." Astoria responded weakly, then began to mutter to herself, "I also want to join the Transfiguration Club and learn to Animagus. The exam is after Halloween, but I'm only a first-year student..."

"..."

Draco wasn't really listening, but the girl's rambling voice naturally reached his ears.

There will be no foolish remarks from Goyle here, no shrill voices from Parkinson's, no...

Draco tilted his head slightly to look at the girl next to him, thinking that this seemed alright.

Loren, standing on the distant pier, withdrew his gaze from the distance, took out a small, tightly sealed vial of medicine from his pocket, and handed it to Lupin beside him. "Sorry, Professor, it's taken a few days."

Lupin pursed his lips and slowly took the Wolfsbane Potion: "This time it's Leopard-skin flower, right?"

"Hmm." Loren paused, then instructed, "Professor Snape increased the concentration of the extract. Professor, you'd better go to the Hospital Wing and drink the potion in front of Madam Pomfrey."

"Knew."

A gentle breeze blew by, Lupin's face showed a slight melancholy.