Slanting sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the slightly dim room.
Tap—tap—
In the office filled with many ancient objects,
the sound of a finger rhythmically striking the solid wooden desk rang out.
The owner of that finger was Professor Dumbledore.
At that moment, he held a cup in one hand with a troubled expression, taking an occasional sip while his other hand tapped on the desk.
His lifeless eyes stared straight at the door ahead.
After swiftly carrying out the coup last night and wrapping up the aftermath, he had hurried back at daybreak, travel-worn and dusty.
In the dungeon, he had awakened Tom, who had gone astray in his magic.
Yet he simply could not let go of what had happened in the dungeon.
The boy's cold expression had deeply pierced his heart.
"Professor! You told me not to touch these Dark Arts! Was it because they were too evil and I couldn't control myself?"
"Then what is the point of these Dark Arts existing?"
"I pursue power! Only when power is in my own hands do I feel safe!"
"I think I've been holding back too much. My Dark Arts aren't powerful enough. Corvin can defeat me easily!"
"Oh, right!"
"Was this your goal?! To turn me into a joke and make Corvin the model student in the eyes of the entire school!"
"Then preach that the Dark Arts are wrong! That love is the true essence of magic!"
"Love? Sorry, sir, but I still believe conquest and coercion are the right way."
"Fine, I promise I won't study the Dark Arts anymore."
Whenever Tom's face full of disdain came to mind, it appeared before him as soon as he closed his eyes.
Professor Dumbledore let out a long sigh. He knew Tom had agreed to