A Test from Dumbledore

Hogwarts Castle, seventh floor of the main tower, Headmaster's office.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, recipient of the First Class Order of Merlin, and nominee for Minister for Magic all gathered in one place...

Cough, a single small office couldn't fit that many people.

In truth, all these titles belonged to one man—an elderly wizard with a flowing silver-white beard, the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Also the wizard widely recognized as the greatest of the modern age: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

The full name was a bit long, so people generally preferred the shorter form—Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore."

"Good morning, Mr. Howard." Dumbledore said in a cheerful tone.

"The professors have all told me that this year's Slytherin class has an outstanding student—of course, that's not to say the others aren't excellent, but some students do stand out a bit more."

"You flatter me. I've only done what a student should." Glenn said politely.

"Oh, that might not sound too kind to the other students." Dumbledore said humorously. "If you don't mind, I'll call you by your first name."

With that, he gave a light flick of his wand, and a comfortable chair appeared across from the desk.

"Please, have a seat, Glenn."

Hearing this, Glenn nodded and sat down opposite Dumbledore.

But more than the chair, he was interested in the wand the Headmaster was holding.

If he wasn't mistaken, it was an Elder Wand.

From the look of it, it had some years on it—an old wand indeed.

After a few discreet glances within appropriate bounds, Glenn withdrew his gaze and met Dumbledore's pale blue eyes.

"Come to think of it, aside from the opening feast, this is our first real chat," Dumbledore said in a casual tone, with none of the airs of a Headmaster—quite a different style from a certain unknown Headmaster Black.

"So, how are you finding it at Hogwarts? Settling in alright?"

Though some might think it trivial, for a student who came from a Muggle orphanage into the wizarding world, the question was rather thoughtful.

"Not bad," Glenn nodded. "It's similar to the orphanage, so I don't need much adjustment."

"Ah, that's good." Dumbledore nodded with a smile. "Students from the Muggle world usually have a harder time adapting to Hogwarts life, especially a Slytherin."

As he spoke, the light refracted through Dumbledore's spectacles, casting a faint blue tint over his eyes.

"Speaking of which, Glenn, do you know why I called you here?"

Hearing this, Glenn paused in thought.

It wasn't that he couldn't think of a reason—there were too many, and he couldn't settle on just one.

But just before class ended, he'd heard Professor McGonagall mention some amusing anecdotes about this so-called greatest Headmaster in Hogwarts history—like his obsession with raspberry jam.

"Perhaps Professor Dumbledore wanted me to join him for some dessert."

Dumbledore nodded. "Honestly, no, but that's a good idea, so you're half right."

With that, he picked up his wand again and lightly tapped the desk.

Two plates of bright red cakes appeared on the surface.

"Raspberry cake—one of my favorites. I hope you don't dislike it."

"Not at all. When it comes to desserts, I never say no." Glenn smiled, but didn't immediately dig in. Instead, he asked, "So, Professor, what's the real reason you called me here?"

Hearing this, Dumbledore's smile deepened.

"No real reason—just a bit of Headmasterly care."

With that, he cut a piece of raspberry cake with his fork and popped it into his mouth, gesturing for Glenn to eat and talk.

"Relax, it's just a chat. If I had to say there's something to ask—The Flamels asked me to check whether you'll be coming home for Christmas."

The Flamels referred to Nicolas Flamel and his wife, who were, in name, Glenn's guardians.

Hearing this, Glenn couldn't help but reflect on how quickly the peaceful school life had passed—half the term was already gone without him noticing.

Back in the year he'd transferred in, he hadn't even stayed at school; crossing from the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts was located to the other end of the continent was a regular occurrence.

According to Sebastian, from the other students' perspective, Glenn would dash out of Hogwarts before dawn and rush back after dark, even moving through the castle like a gust of wind.

When asked, he'd simply say: It's Professor Figg's arrangement.

It was no exaggeration to say that Professor Weasley had already wanted to have a serious talk with Professor Figg about whether this constituted campus bullying...

"Thank you for the kind offer, but I plan to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holiday." Glenn shook his head in reply. "I'll write to Mr. Flamel to let him know."

"Alright, then it seems you'll be spending the Christmas holiday with us." Dumbledore nodded. "Though I imagine it'll be a unique experience."

"I hear from Mr. Flamel that you only came to live with them about a year ago—is that right?"

"Yes." Glenn speared a piece of cake with his fork.

It wasn't a secret; it was clearly recorded in the school's student files.

"You see, I once had a student who troubled me greatly—his background was similar to yours, but he made some mistakes. I think his childhood experiences may have skewed his perspective." Dumbledore said, eating his cake in a conversational tone.

"Though it may not be entirely relatable, I must confess that after growing older, I've drifted rather far from the Muggle world. If you don't mind, could you kindly tell me what life is like in a Muggle orphanage?"

To be honest, this question, while ordinary, was not a simple one.

Especially for someone like Glenn, who had returned to Hogwarts as a student.

It had nothing to do with the strength of one's magic.

As the headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore inevitably came into contact with all sorts of new students.

If he hadn't encountered such matters before, making things up off the top of his head would be as obvious as a Dark Wizard appearing under Revelio.

Fortunately, though—Glenn had genuinely spent ten years in an orphanage.

On that basis, this kind of question was far too trivial.

Since it was originally prepared for exactly this sort of situation, not using it thoroughly would be a waste.

So much so that this casual conversation initiated by Dumbledore turned into a one-sided monologue from Glenn.

He listed every trivial little thing that happened in the orphanage, sparing no detail.

And Dumbledore was no pushover either—after enduring hours of information bombardment, not only did his expression remain unchanged, but he even poured Glenn a cup of hot tea to moisten his throat.

"So, life in the orphanage was fairly peaceful?"

"For me, yes." Glenn nodded.

After all, times had progressed. If it had been a Victorian-era orphanage, he probably wouldn't have wanted to experience it himself.

At most, he'd find a Dark Wizard with orphanage experience and perform Legilimency, just to see the memories.

"Professor, where was I just now—ah, right, the year I turned six..."

"Dumbledore!"

Suddenly, from the position across the headmaster's office where the portraits of past headmasters hung, a voice tinged with anger rang out.

Following the sound, a thin man with black hair and a short, pointed black goatee stepped into the frame.

Though his face was currently bruised and swollen like a pig's head, his arrogant demeanor was impossible to hide.

"Someone actually dared to knock out the headmaster! Dumbledore, you must find that bastard for me..." The familiar voice belonged to one of Hogwarts' former headmasters—Phineas Black.

"Oh, Phineas, wonderful..."

"What?!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly: "Glenn, as you can see, regrettably, we'll have to schedule another time to continue our conversation."

Hearing this, Glenn nodded in understanding.

"How about the Christmas feast?"

At this, the expression on Dumbledore's face remained gentle, but it visibly stiffened for a moment.