"Then why didn't you save him?"
In the end, Zhang Xiao could not hold back. He asked the question that had been lodged like a bone in his throat.
Dumbledore looked at him through his spectacles with those bright blue eyes. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Zhang Xiao thought he saw something glimmering in them, almost like tears.
"Zhang, I am not all-powerful... There are times when I can do nothing, too... There was only one way to separate them, and that was to kill Quirrell."
Zhang Xiao nodded in silence, bowed slightly, and left.
There was no need to say the rest. He was still the same Dumbledore. Once he realized Quirrell could not be saved, he immediately made use of whatever value the man had left.
Great, yet cold...
Sometimes, giving someone false hope was simply another form of cruelty.
Dumbledore watched Zhang Xiao's back disappear into the passage. He took off his spectacles and stared blankly out the window, murmuring in a voice barely louder than a whisper:
"Quirinus Quirrell. I still remember him, that clever little boy. His wand had a unicorn hair core. He was so kind... When he first came to school, he wore such a shy smile...
"I remember. I remember every student."
Rumors swept through the young witches and wizards like the wind, growing more outlandish by the day. Every student who had taken part in the operation enjoyed unprecedented popularity.
Malfoy loved every moment of it. At last, he felt like a true aristocrat. Wherever he went, the other students regarded him with awe. They crowded around him, desperate for some "inside information" or a firsthand account they could repeat to others.
At such moments, Malfoy would lift his chin slightly and pretend to be impatient, before finally yielding