Grindelwald felt a scalding tear land on his foot. His heart ached for Dumbledore, and he hurried to comfort him.
"Albus, put them on for me. You know, age really does take its toll on the body. I even feel cold in the middle of summer. How thoughtful of you to bring me wool socks."
"As long as you like them. I'll install a fireplace here for you sometime."
Dumbledore quickly composed himself and set the wool socks on the table. First, he rubbed Grindelwald's icy feet with his warm hands, then began pulling the socks on.
Grindelwald was genuinely delighted.
"Albus, a story just came to mind. Long ago, in a certain country, there was a general. He and his wife loved each other dearly, but he had to fight for his country, and they spent years apart."
"After one great battle, the general returned gravely wounded and partially paralyzed. His wife was actually rather pleased and devoted herself to caring for her paralyzed husband. But as she grew older, she could no longer care for him properly."
"So they decided to adopt a son. The wife wanted someone to see them through their final years and bury them, while the general wanted a son who would carry on his dream of fighting for their country."
"Their adopted son did very well. He fulfilled his duties to the elderly couple and realized the general's dream."
"Albus, what do you think of me adopting a son?"
Dumbledore had not interrupted once. He quietly listened to Grindelwald's entire story, his eyes regaining their wisdom and the ruthlessness buried deep within.
Dumbledore sighed. As he reached out to smooth the wrinkles in Grindelwald's trouser legs, he spoke sincerely.
"Gellert, there's no need to adopt a child. Once I've finished a few things, I'll stay with you through old age, sickness, and death. That's the greatest amends I can make to you."
Grindelwald smiled and let the subject drop, inviting Dumbledore to have some sweets.
He especially urged Dumbledore to eat more of the candied hawthorn skewers.
They began chatting, and Dumbledore told Grindelwald some amusing stories from the last Quidditch World Cup.
He happily described how his favorite, the Argentina Team, had fought hard for victory, while their opponents had lost with honor.
He went on about how Seemel, the finest Seeker, had turned the tide.
Only after an hour did Dumbledore say goodbye and leave.
With a flash of fire, he returned to the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts.
After sitting down, Dumbledore closed his eyes to think. Almost unconsciously, he took a chocolate from the Cockroach Clusters on his desk and popped it into his mouth.
He ate more than a dozen cockroach chocolates before finally sorting through every detail and hidden implication of his exchange with Gellert.
He wrote two notes. One was addressed to Babajide, vice president of the International Confederation of Wizards.
He asked him to investigate the movements of the acolytes in Grindelwald's Army, including the correspondence going to Nurmengard, and to find out whether they were gathering information on gifted young wizards.
The other asked Shawn to come to the Headmaster's Office and included the password.
Dumbledore summoned Fawkes and sent him to deliver the notes.
Half an hour earlier, quite a few students stood in small groups inside an abandoned classroom at Hogwarts.
Hermione and Alice had moved a table to the doorway, where they recorded the spells each arriving student had mastered.
Shawn stood by the window, seemingly gazing quietly at the scenery, but he was actually drawing prizes in the system.
Only just now had Shawn realized how meager his repertoire and mastery of white magic were. He might not even be qualified to teach the students.
Water Prison and Avis were not suitable for widespread teaching, either.
And he could not teach dark magic.
Apart from the Shield Charm and Levitation Charm, he might not even be as good at other general-purpose white magic spells as the older students.
Fortunately, he still had more than two thousand level-one Faith Value points. After last night's events had had a night to sink in, his level-two Faith Value had finally climbed back above 120.
So he could still hope these three draws would give him something useful.
Otherwise, his big talk would blow up in his face again.
"Ding! Congratulations, host. You have obtained 1 skill point." "Ding! Congratulations, host. You have obtained the level-three Disarming Charm. Since you already know the level-two Disarming Charm, proficiency has been combined. Your Disarming Charm is now level four." "Ding! Congratulations, host. You have obtained the level-five Spirit-Absorbing Art."
Shawn pondered the two spells for a moment.
First, he put his skill point into the Disarming Charm, raising it to level five. This would be the spell he taught shortly.
The effect of the level-five Spirit-Absorbing Art, however, truly moved him.
Arts and charms were two distinct concepts.
Water Prison, for instance, was a compound spell that combined a water-control charm with Transfiguration.
The Spirit-Absorbing Art was similar: an advanced compound spell combining an absorption charm with magical energy siphoning.
As expected of something from the level-two prize pool, its effect was truly powerful. As long as he had enough magical life-forms to absorb from, he could increase his magical energy reserves by up to fifty units a year.
The only reason he could not absorb without limit was his physical constitution.
The Spirit-Absorbing Art was essentially a weaker version of the system's absorption function.
Shawn considered where he could get magical creatures to absorb from. With those, his magical energy reserves would soon surpass an adult's.
Give it two years... heh. Even if I can't beat a legend, I'll be able to survive losing. And if I earn enough Faith Value in the meantime, who wins and who loses will be anyone's guess.
"Shawn, the students from both houses are all here, and we've finished recording their spells. Should we start the lesson?"
Hermione's voice sounded beside him. Coming back to his senses, he turned to see her expectant face and a classroom full of students.
Somewhat impatient, he had no choice but to abandon his plan to head straight to the Forbidden Forest.
He nodded to Hermione and calmly walked to the lectern. Looking at the students below, he suddenly felt that this was rather nice, too.
He began addressing the students in a clear voice.
"Today will be our first spell instruction session. Let's skip the fluff. This class has only one goal: to become stronger!"
Ignoring the eager gazes of many of the young wizards, he took out his wand and held it between two fingertips, writing several glowing words in the air: "Incantation, gesture, emotion."
"These are the three elements needed to cast a spell successfully. In my opinion, the most important is emotion, which can develop into will!"
"Gestures and incantations can both be learned. In fact, they differ in many regions. You can't expect someone who only speaks French to recite an English incantation, can you?"
"And magic is governed by the mind. You've all experienced accidental magic, too. That also depends on how unstable your emotions are at the time."
Seeing the young wizards below beginning to lose interest, Shawn suddenly realized his mistake.
His own inexperience was to blame. These young wizards were already sick of theory lessons; he should have gone straight to the main course.
"Today, I'll teach you a commonly used defensive spell: the Disarming Charm."
As he spoke, he flicked his wand. A beam of red light as thick as an arm shot toward a dummy holding a stick in the corner, like a radiant sword piercing the heavens. The dazzling spell bathed the abandoned classroom in red.
The dummy exploded upon impact, with an effect comparable to an ordinary wizard's Blasting Curse.
The spell's power stunned the young wizards, drawing a chorus of gasps.
They had all seen what a Disarming Charm looked like.
But this was their first time seeing one that resembled a radiant sword.
"Merlin's cowlick, that's a Disarming Charm?"
"I haven't read much, Shawn. Don't go fooling me."
"But it doesn't look like the yellow light of a Blasting Curse, either."
"Our chief really is something. Even his Disarming Charm is different from everyone else's."
Bursting with curiosity, Hermione immediately raised her hand and asked loudly.
"Shawn, why is your Disarming Charm so powerful?"