"Come in!"
A low knock sounded from outside. Dumbledore set down his quill behind the desk and looked toward the door.
"Good evening, Professor."
Albert pushed open the door to the Headmaster's Office and greeted the old man with a smile.
"Good evening, Albert." Dumbledore smiled. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Milk tea?"
Albert sat opposite Dumbledore, his gaze sweeping over The Tales of Beedle the Bard and the parchment manuscript on the desk. "It seems I came at a bad time. You appear to be working."
"The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Have you read this book?"
Dumbledore placed a steaming cup of milk tea before Albert, looking at The Tales of Beedle the Bard on the desk. "This is the original text. The copies sold in bookshops have all been altered to some extent. Would you like to take a look?"
As he spoke, he handed the book to Albert.
"Are you planning to translate it again?" Albert took the book and flipped through it casually, discovering that the old volume had been written in Runic Script. Most wizards were fairly poor at Runic Script.
"Yes, I intend to translate it again and add my own commentary." Dumbledore added a large spoonful of honey to his tea, stirred it slowly, and said, "I heard you have written a book recently as well."
"Yes. Many people will need it in the future."
Albert did not deny it; there was nothing to deny. He drew his wand from his pocket and gave the milk tea before him a light tap. Under Dumbledore's puzzled gaze, he made it vanish, then conjured himself a fresh cup of milk tea.
Honestly, it was an extremely discourteous thing to do, but Dumbledore did not get angry. He was merely surprised