An Old Man's Ramblings

"In this Great Hall, some of you have already suffered directly at the hands of Voldemort, and many of your families have been Sectumsempra. I wish I were mistaken, but I am not. We are about to face another dark and difficult time. Please take care..."

As Dumbledore's somber voice faded, the 1995 year-end party officially came to an end.

The young wizards walked out of the Great Hall in twos and threes, heading towards their respective dormitories. Few spoke during this time; everyone remained silent as if struggling to process this unacceptable fact.

Dumbledore sat in his seat watching them leave. He hadn't rested much last night, and had spent too much energy during the day—arguing with Fudge, contacting some old friends in the Order of the Phoenix, and talking to some relatively sober people in the Ministry of Magic —he just wanted to rest now.

He was in an abnormal state of drowsiness, yet unable to fall asleep; with his eyes closed, he could clearly feel countless thoughts churning in his mind. He probably needed some sleep-inducing Potions, or perhaps a way to clear his head.

Professor McGonagall took over some of the work, leading the Delacour and Gravis into the meeting room behind the Great Hall. She planned to use them to contact the Veela in France and the Werewolf pack in United States to form an alliance and jointly resist Voldemort's ravages.

In the eyes of Death Eater revere Pure-blood, these non-human intelligent beings are no different from House-elf in essence. They are even more despicable than Muggle-born and Half-blood wizards, destined to either become servants of the Death Eater or toys in their bloody games.

Madame Maxime and Hagrid have agreed to leave together, discussing the gift list to take when they visit the giant Gurg...

Dumbledore subconsciously laid out a plan in his mind:

On the first day, they presented the Gubra'i Immortal Fire to pique their interest.

The next day, send another helmet made by a fairy, subtly revealing your intentions.

On the third day, we can give away a large roll of Dragon Hide...

Giants have eccentric personalities. You can't give them all the gifts at once, nor can you talk to them too much at once, as that will irritate them. Those who talk to them too much will develop murderous intent.

If they can successfully persuade the giants to join the alliance, and considering the Werewolf led by Remus, the Centaur and Acromantula in the Forbidden Forest, and... in short, they should win more easily this time.

That should be true.

When Dumbledore opened his eyes again, the huge Great Hall was empty, leaving only a pair of handsome men and women at the Gryffindor table. As he watched their figures, a smile unconsciously appeared on his lips, and he walked up to them quietly.

As the banquet ended, the long dining table became clean and tidy, and the cups, plates, and bowls were moved to the underground Kitchen by the magic of the House-elf. However, many stemmed glasses remained in front of the two people, filled with strangely colored liquids.

"Glug glug... hiccup..."

Hermione gulped down the entire glass of her special juice and slapped him on the shoulder in annoyance. "I told you not to make so much, and now look what happened, I have to drink it with you."

She gulped down another glass of juice, her face immediately scrunching up as her teeth chattered from the sourness. "Ugh! This is lemon juice!"

"Hehe..." A gentle laugh rang out.

"!!"

Loren and Hermione turned their heads at the same time.

Dumbledore stood beside the two of them, smiling as he looked at them, "Excuse me, the drinks on the faculty table have been cleared away. May I have a few glasses of your juice?"

"You drink, you drink..."

Loren and Hermione quickly handed over several glasses of specially made juice, explaining carefully, "This one, which looks like Polyjuice Potion, is a mix of calamansi and apple juice, this one is a mix of grapefruit and pear juice... and we also added pomegranate and strawberry."

Dumbledore picked up a glass, lowered his head and savored it slowly, his chaotic thoughts gradually calming down.

To Voldemort and the Death Eater, he was the most annoying, stinking rock. His existence prevented Pure-blood wizard Pure-blood wizard gaining the dignity they deserved and from becoming the most esteemed people in the world. He did not despise those people, and few people knew that for a long time in his youth, he was even more extreme than them.

To Fudge and his associates, Voldemort was a treacherous old man whose every action was an attempt to wrest power from the Ministry of Magic. Everything about Voldemort was designed to force Fudge into making a mistake so he could be impeached and dismissed. This was true of removing the Dementor ' control from Azkaban, and also of forming an alliance with giants and many dangerous creatures.

For the Order of the Order of the Phoenix and those who believe in him, he is the most solid and reliable support. He will always stand guard in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, and no matter how powerful Voldemort or how many terrifying plots the Death Eater have, he will thwart them one by one and destroy their plans.

Perhaps they are right, perhaps not... He doesn't care what everyone thinks, but occasionally when he recalls the long journey of the past few decades, he feels tired and clearly perceives what the years have taken away from his soul and the marks left on his body.

Dumbledore felt much better. His nose was filled with the refreshing scent of grapefruit, and his mouth was filled with the subtle sweetness of honey. The cool juice was like a spring in the scorching desert, extinguishing the heat in his heart and allowing his mind to sink into a cool lake. His thoughts naturally dispersed and floated lightly.

Dumbledore smiled and suggested, "You can add more honey; I like sweet things."

"I like it too." Loren grinned.

"It's too sweet and it overpowers the fruit flavor," Hermione muttered.

Dumbledore sat down, holding the glass of calamansi and apple juice. He lowered his head to sniff it, smelling the rich fruity aroma. After a moment of silence, he looked at Loren: "The Poet Beedle's story of the Warlock's Humbled Heart teaches us that it is right to open our hearts appropriately... I have a holiday job I'd like to give you. Before that, I can reveal some information. Would you like to hear it?"

Loren and Hermione nodded quickly.

"Ancient Eastern wisdom: even terrible things have a good side. Voldemort's supposedly clever Resurrection Ritual planted a dozen Fireworks in his own body, just waiting for someone to..." Dumbledore's voice was very soft, more like he was speaking to himself than to the two of them.

"On the other hand, Cornelius Fudge refuses to believe the news of Voldemort's return. Fortunately, there are still some people in the Ministry of Magic who are willing to believe me... and my old friends, hopefully they are still able to move... The winged messenger delivered my letter to them before they did, and Hagrid and Olympe will also set off as soon as possible..."

The old headmaster's words were unclear; Loren could barely understand 70-80%, while Hermione could only understand 30-40%. They both knew that Dumbledore's outpouring was more like him sorting out his own thoughts.

The two vaguely sensed that the principal, who had always stood behind them, was over a hundred years old and had been steadfastly dedicated to his duties for decades.

After listening to him, Loren glanced at the old headmaster and asked softly, "Headmaster, do you have any tasks for us?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I'm worried that Harry might be troubled by what happened last night. I hope you can keep in touch with Harry more during the holidays and keep an eye on his condition for me, okay?"

Hermione nodded as if she understood, her mind still processing the information the headmaster had just revealed.

"Sorry to have kept you two children listening to me ramble on for so long..." Dumbledore his last glass of special juice, smacked his lips, and paused briefly. "Goodnight, children. If there's anything I should say at the end, it's that I still prefer to add extra honey!"

Good night, Principal.

Sweet dreams, sir.