Wisdom's Edge

The office was so quiet that one could hear dust settling. Mrs. Cole's gaze moved back and forth between Dumbledore and Ares, her confusion obvious. Tom, meanwhile, sat like an icy statue, every sense focused on Dumbledore as though he were ready to deal with any possible provocation at any moment.

The pressure weighed on Ares's shoulders as tangibly as something physical. He knew Dumbledore's question was far from simple. It concerned his identity, his origins, and some hidden connection between him and Tom—or even Dumbledore's own past.

He raised his head without avoiding those sharp blue eyes. A perfectly measured confusion and the struggle to recall something showed in his mismatched eyes. He could not appear too composed; that would not fit the role of an "amnesiac" child. But he could not seem too flustered either, or it would invite deeper suspicion.

"Yes, Professor." Ares's voice carried a childlike softness, but he did not stammer. "I only remember... my name. Ares Phoenix." He deliberately emphasized his surname, keenly catching the nearly imperceptible twitch of Dumbledore's fingers upon hearing "Phoenix."

"Phoenix..." Dumbledore repeated softly, as though savoring the meaning behind the word. "An ancient and powerful surname. Do you remember anything about your family? Even an image or a feeling?"

Ares shook his head, his gaze hollow. "Only... rain. Very cold rain. And... a very bright light, and... the sound of glass breaking." He was describing the vague memory of his arrival, as well as the symbolic echo of the Blood Pact's shattering. He carefully controlled his tone, making it sound like fragmented pieces of a dream rather than a real experience.

Dumbledore's eyes abruptly deepened. The sound of shattering glass? It struck a dangerous resonance with some long-buried, sharp fragment of memory in his mind—of a summer in Godric's Hollow. His gaze once more swept uncontrollably over the golden chain mark beneath Ares's left eye. That pattern... he had never seen it before, yet it inexplicably stirred a familiarity and tremor from deep within his bloodline.

"I see." Dumbledore's voice remained gentle, but Ares could sense the undercurrents beneath that gentleness. "Then, Ares, have you also experienced anything... 'unusual'? Like Tom?" He deftly guided the conversation toward the key point.

Tom's breathing stopped almost imperceptibly.

Ares knew this was the true test. He could not deny everything outright, or it would seem suspicious. Nor could he admit to possessing aggressive abilities, or he would be labeled "dangerous," just like Tom.

He lowered his eyes slightly, seemingly twisting his fingers uneasily, and said in an uncertain tone, "Sometimes... I have very strange dreams. In my dreams... golden birds fly through fire, and... black shadows like horses run through the sky." He was describing phoenixes and Thestrals, which corresponded to his wand core and subtly pointed toward Dumbledore and Grindelwald. "And sometimes..." He looked up, a trace of genuine confusion in his mismatched eyes—confusion born from his inability to understand the power of his own Blood Pact. "When people are very sad, or very angry, I... I seem to feel a little of it, and then... I hope they can feel a little better. And then, sometimes, they seem to... really calm down."

What he displayed was the ability to soothe and empathize—a light-leaning, healing, seemingly passive power. It explained both why he could coexist peacefully with Tom and even have a positive influence on him, while distinguishing him from Tom's powers of control and intimidation.

[Host! (??? ) Perfect response! Successfully created the image of a "harmless comforter," displaying uniqueness while lowering the perceived threat level!]

Dumbledore listened silently, his gaze behind his half-moon spectacles as deep as the sea. He did not immediately make a judgment. Ares's description, particularly the dreams and soothing ability, did not fully match any magical phenomenon he knew of. Yet it was strangely connected to certain traits of both himself and Gellert... A golden bird—a phoenix. A black shadow—a Thestral? And this pure, almost instinctive power to soothe...

This child was like a puzzle pieced together from fragments of his and Gellert's lives.

"A very interesting description, Ares." Dumbledore finally spoke, his tone revealing neither pleasure nor displeasure. "It is a very... unique talent." He did not press for details, instead turning to Mrs. Cole. "Madam, considering Ares's unusual circumstances and the certain... potential he has demonstrated, Hogwarts may be able to provide him with a suitable place as well. Of course, that will require further assessment."

Mrs. Cole was clearly bewildered by this series of developments and merely nodded instinctively. "Everything will be arranged as you see fit, Professor."

Dumbledore looked again at the two boys sitting side by side, his gaze passing over Tom's tense face and Ares's seemingly calm but truly wary mismatched eyes.

"Then, Tom Riddle, Ares Phoenix," he said with a smile, though behind it lay a clarity that saw through everything, "I hereby formally invite you both to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this September."

He extended his hand and produced two thick envelopes of heavy parchment from nowhere. The addresses were written in emerald-green ink. There were no stamps, only an elaborate coat of arms—a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter "H."

Tom's gaze locked onto the letter at once, and an unprecedented, almost uncontrollable blaze of fervor burst from his eyes. It was recognition. It was a ticket into the world he had long yearned for.

Ares accepted his letter as well, feeling the smooth parchment and the faint traces of magic lingering upon it. He let out an inward sigh of relief. The first hurdle had finally been cleared.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, the hem of his robes sweeping over the floor without gathering a speck of dust. "I will return in August to take you to buy your school supplies," he said. His gaze swept over Ares once more before finally resting on Tom, his tone carrying a faint, almost imperceptible warning. "At Hogwarts, you will learn how to properly understand and control your powers. I hope you will be prepared."

He walked to the door, but before leaving, he turned back and gave Ares another look. That gaze was complex and unreadable, as if saying: I have seen that you are different, child. We will meet again.

The office door closed softly, leaving behind three people with very different thoughts.

Mrs. Cole let out a long breath and slumped back into her chair.

Tom gripped the acceptance letter tightly, his knuckles turning white with force. His face held a mixture of wild joy, ambition, and cold calculation.

Ares, meanwhile, lowered his head to look at the letter in his hand, a symbol of a turning point in fate. He felt the faint warmth of the Blood Pact Mark beneath his left eye and the system's cheerful prompt in his mind.

[Main quest updated! (★ ω ★) Successfully obtained admission to Hogwarts!]

[New stage unlocked: The gateway to the magical world!]

[Next objective: A trip to Diagon Alley!]

The storm had temporarily subsided, but they all knew this was only the beginning. The road to the magical world had already been laid before them, and what awaited them was a grander, more perilous future. Wisdom's edge had clashed for the first time; Dumbledore had left behind questions, but also an opportunity. And now, they needed to make thorough preparations for the coming trip to Diagon Alley.