A Night Talk with Dumbledore

"The Mirror of Erised shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts..." Dumbledore said unhurriedly. "What you saw was yourself on a peaceful street..."

Dumbledore's face showed contemplation, as if he were thinking about how to help Matthew interpret this.

"Professor, I think—perhaps it's my past experiences that make me, deep down, long for peace and tranquility, which is why I saw myself on a peaceful street."

Matthew seemed lost in memory as he spoke slowly.

"When I was chatting with Harry and Ron, I heard Harry mention his life before coming to Hogwarts.

Actually, my experiences are quite similar to Harry's. After my parents were killed by Death Eaters, I lived with my aunt's family for a long time.

But fortunately, although my aunt and uncle are Muggles—just like Harry's aunt and uncle—they don't reject magic. They love me very much and treat me well.

At the same time, in the realm of magic, I have the guidance of my grandparents' Magic Portraits.

So even though I lost my parents at a young age, my childhood should have been fulfilling and wonderful."

"Oh—I'm sorry—I didn't know, my boy. You can think of Hogwarts as home too; you're always welcome here." Dumbledore patted Matthew on the shoulder, as if trying to comfort him.

"I'm fine now, but about what you just said..." Matthew didn't dwell on whether Dumbledore truly hadn't known, smiling as he spoke. "Can I take that to mean—if I can't find a job after graduation, I can come straight to Hogwarts for employment?"

Dumbledore blinked but didn't answer directly. "I don't believe an outstanding Hogwarts graduate would ever fail to find work."

As if to lighten the mood, Matthew continued the earlier topic. "Professor, do you know about the Middle East wars in the Muggle World?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The several Middle East wars had a significant impact, even affecting the local wizarding community. Many wizards from that region fled to Britain for refuge."

"The first half of my childhood was just as I described—fulfilling and wonderful. But..."

Dumbledore listened intently, not wanting to miss a single detail.

Matthew paused, then continued.

"My uncle is an official in the British Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

After the Fifth Middle East War ended, he was sent to the Middle East as a diplomatic officer. Since the country he was assigned to wasn't a major participant in the war and was less affected by the conflict, he brought me and my aunt along.

War is brutal. Even though we weren't in a combatant country, I still saw another side of the world there.

In that place, there was no sufficient food, no warm clothing, and even fresh water was a scarce resource. Only countless Muggle Refugees who had lost their homes.

It's hard for ordinary people to imagine what kind of hell on earth they fled from.

However, I once saw photos taken by war correspondents in my uncle's study. In those pictures, I caught a glimpse of that hell."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, as if trying to picture such a scene in his mind.

Matthew wasn't making this up. These were his real experiences, and his Muggle uncle had been rising through the ranks ever since being recalled from the Middle East. Word had it he was about to be promoted to Cabinet Minister.

"Professor..." Matthew waited until Dumbledore opened his eyes before speaking slowly. "That's when I understood a truth."

"What truth?" Dumbledore looked into those bright, piercing eyes, as if searching for the answer there.

"What we have now is not something we're entitled to.

Those Muggle Refugees who lost their homes—they didn't do anything wrong. The reason they suffer is simply because they were born there."

Matthew's expression turned serious.

"I once heard a saying in the Muggle World—backwardness invites aggression.

Studying human history shows that this principle applies to all of humanity.

I think the same holds true in the Wizarding World. To protect the peace and tranquility in one's heart, one must possess the strength to stand firm.

Perhaps that's why I've never slackened my efforts all these years, why I've worked so hard to learn magic."

Tonight's encounter couldn't be a coincidence. Matthew knew it would be hard to fool Dumbledore. Although some of his experiences were similar to Harry Potter's, he was ultimately not Harry Potter, and Dumbledore wouldn't treat him as such. Whatever he said now, Dumbledore wouldn't fully believe.

Lying in front of Dumbledore was easily seen through. Rather than letting Dumbledore harbor groundless suspicions, it was better to reveal some of his thoughts.

Dumbledore's expression was complex. He hadn't expected Matthew to say such things tonight. After a moment of silence, he said, "There's no need to be so pessimistic. You must believe that Hogwarts will always be your support."

Matthew smiled faintly.

"My uncle once said—when you become strong, you'll find that everyone around you is good.

I agree with that statement. One's own strength is the foundation.

You are the best example. Becoming a Great Wizard like you is also the dream of many."

"I'm just an Ordinary Old Man who's lived a little longer." Dumbledore smiled. "It's getting late. Go back and rest."

From his observations over the past few days, Dumbledore felt Matthew wasn't an extreme person. But with the precedent of Voldemort—who was very good at disguising himself as a student—he felt he needed to pay more attention to students' psychological states to prevent such tragedies from happening again. Tonight's "chance encounter" was one of his attempts.

After bidding farewell to Dumbledore, Matthew didn't continue to the Room of Requirement but returned to his dormitory instead.

Wizarding World, outskirts of Whitestone Town.

Before a tree as thick as three men could encircle with their arms, a naked corpse knelt bowed beneath it.

Its hands were clasped together, wrists bound with hemp rope to the protruding tree roots, its forehead pressed against the raised roots, tightly flush against its arms.

There were ligature marks on its wrists, ankles, and knees. A strange Circular Pattern was painted on its back, and on its head was a crown bound with Antlers.

The corpse's posture was extremely eerie, as if it were kneeling in worship before the tree.

"Just today, we've found seven..." Link murmured to himself. "Adding the six victims from the past two days, that makes thirteen in total. There might be more we haven't found."

They had discovered many such bizarre corpses over the past few days. At first, they were found in the town, but today, one was also found on the outskirts of Whitestone Town.

Matthew felt this was very likely some kind of Evil Ritual, and these people might be its sacrifices. He compared it to the Dream Ritual he had obtained from Jack earlier but found no similarities.