The sky outside was already as dark as ink.
In a spacious, beautiful round room, there are various silverwares placed. Next to the silverware, there is a blackened but still bubbling kettle.
The walls here are covered with portraits of the old principals. Although they usually doze in their respective frames, today, a lady with long silver curly hair in the center couldn't help but speak:
"Headmaster Albus, you are too cautious... you knocked down the sword and put the letter in his hand,
But anyone can see that my anxious husband is a pure and kind-hearted child. "
Dumbledore is sitting in an armchair, his deep blue eyes are distant and unfocused, the water in the kettle boils and then subsides, subsides and then boils again.
It wasn't until the raven crossed the sky that Dumbledore slowly raised his head.
"That's the problem, Dilys·Headmistress Derwent. There is never a trace of hatred in his eyes. You and I should know how rare this purity is.
The subconscious reactions of wizards cannot be controlled, even in those precocious and intelligent children... If a child who can clearly separate right from wrong, remain rational in urgent and oppressive situations, and can always see kindness through the appearance of anger, meanness, and paranoia cannot be called pure, then purity becomes an empty talk.
But... how should we face this purity? How much light cannot fill a festering heart, and how many weak candles can support a child through a long road... He was loved, and it was a love that drove away all ugliness and resentment. I thought I would never see such a great love again.
It is love that makes people determined and self-sustaining. We all know that it is too easy to not care, and only those with character and courage dare to care about everything the world has to offer...
Compared with wizards, Fantastic Beastss have always been more sensitive, and the slightest bit of malice will make them flinch. But that child is always surrounded, don't you understand? Dear Dilys·Headmistress Derwent, this love must have disappeared, because only dead love can extend such tenderness.
There are too many lessons that tell us what to do is wrong. Yes, for such a child who has lost all support and is only determined to rely on himself and the amazing talent he shows, I can only think of the lesson fifty years ago that made me extremely regretful.
We should know that such a child is determined and disturbing. Because that dead love took him out of the world, I can't imagine what place he still has in this world? Just because he won't be angry doesn't mean he won't be disappointed, and just because he won't get angry doesn't mean he isn't depressed. When the remaining love disappears, when he is strong enough, what will he care about?
It is especially important that we should be kind first, and then have integrity. I don't dare to be arrogant enough to guide and correct the life of a child who is both gifted and kind. My arrogance on this point has already taught me a painful lesson, but what should we do? Dear Dilys·Headmistress Derwent? Do we want to let this child face the cold and hard world alone, then silently crush everything into his stomach, and then gradually lose love?
If there is an answer to this, it would be to leave everything to the greatest magic. The greatest, most mysterious, and most profound love will truly bring him into this world. It is love that can reach an almost closed heart in a soft way, making it willing to open to the world again. All we have to do is shake that cautious soul with enough patience and kindness.
Only with such great magic can he find his own place and still be willing to live in it in a gentle way. "
Hogwarts's weekend was filled with laziness and tension, because the little wizards who had played happily for two days had to face homework sadly again.
And for those little wizards who finish their homework early, they can enjoy interesting events besides the beautiful scenery of the castle, such as two little wizards competing for a note.
But Sean didn't observe any of this. He spent the whole morning on Sunday reading "Standard Spells: Level 6" and looking for Professor Flitwick.
But the final result was not satisfactory, and the professor seemed to be out.
When passing a portrait, Fat Lady kindly came over and told Sean that Professor Flitwick was probably too drunk to walk at the Three Broomsticks.
So time came to Monday in a blink of an eye.
Sean In the first session of the morning, Charms and Ravenclaw were on together with Gryffindor.
On the pile of books in the middle of the seats on both sides, Professor Flitwick waved his magic wand, causing Toad of Neville to fly everywhere in the classroom.
The excitement of the little wizards was ignited on the spot, and they were divided into pairs by the professor to practice.
"It is very important to recite the spell accurately - don't forget the wizard Barufeo, who said the 'f' instead of an 's' and found himself lying on the floor with a bison standing on his chest..."
Professor Flitwick's voice echoed in the classroom for a while.
But even with the professor's explanation, it is still not easy to do.
Seamus waved and shook, waved and shook, over and over again, but the feather that he should have sent up into the air still lay motionless on the floor.
Seamus was so angry that he poked the feather with his wand, and the feather caught fire. Fortunately, Sean on the side took the time to put out the fire with Water-Making Spell.
suddenly——
"Wingardium Leviosa (Wingardium Leviosa)!"
A feather fluttered up.
"Cool——"
When everyone looked over, their eyes widened.
"Longbottom?!"
"Is that Longbottom?"
"Oh my God!"
Neville listened to the whispers around him, his face flushed extremely red.
"Oh, great job!"
Professor Flitwick clapped his hands and shouted,
"Look, everyone, Mr. Longbottom succeeded! I want to add three points to Gryffindor!"
So Neville's face turned redder, and even his hands were trembling.
Before get out of class.
Professor Flitwick stopped Neville. Before he could speak, Neville trembled and said everything:
"Mr. Green taught me, professor, notes, yes, notes... If it weren't for Mr. Green, I wouldn't have learned anything... It was all Mr. Green..."
After he finished speaking tremblingly, he saw Professor Flitwick taking the notebook as if he had heard something particularly joyful, and at the same time his beard also stood up:
"Of course, of course, Mr. Green is of course a very talented wizard, but -"
The professor gently patted Mr. Longbottom's shoulder as he squatted down.
"Mr. Longbottom, you are not bad at all."