The teardrop-shaped Stone Beast leapt aside after hearing Harry read the password written on the parchment—"Almond Macaroon"—and the spiral staircase had only just delivered Harry to the door when it opened.
Invited to sit in his old seat in front of the headmaster's desk, Harry keenly sensed that Dumbledore's expression was different from the past few times; there was a trace of exhaustion and anger in his face.
Harry hesitated inwardly. What could have made Dumbledore this anxious?
"Would you like two macarons?" Dumbledore pushed a plate of Almond Macaroons on the table toward Harry. "Do you still remember the headmistress of Beauxbatons, Madame Olympe Maxime? She baked these herself and sent quite a lot to both Hagrid and me. I've been very fond of them lately—the rich, almond-scented sweetness, crisp outside and soft within, with all sorts of fillings. The sugar content rather suits my taste."
"Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore." Harry did not stand on ceremony. After so many classes, he really was hungry, and besides, the little pastries before him were giving off an irresistible rich almond aroma, unlike some of the White Wizard's stranger tastes in the past. He picked one up at once and put it in his mouth.
The Almond Macaroon had distinct layers, crisp outside and soft within. With one bite, the first thing he tasted was the very thin but crunchy shell, followed by the soft, dense inner layer. Unlike the texture of cream, the almond biscuit's slight chewiness held up the filling and gave the soft, rich center more bite.
"It's wonderful to be young... I think I'll have another as well..." Seeing the way Harry was eating, Dumbledore could not help raising his little finger and picking one up between thumb and middle finger to eat himself. Then he wiped his