Twisted Feelings

Which college are you planning to attend?

Inside the carriage, after the group had gotten to know each other, James took the initiative to ask.

Lupin was feeling a bit weak. He coughed twice and said, "I don't know which academy someone like me can go to."

"Someone like you?" Sirius smirked. "What kind of person are you? Are you worried about going to Hufflepuff?"

Lupin chuckled, "I do have that little bit of confidence."

Sirius's smile widened as he turned his gaze to Tywin.

"And you?"

Tywin smiled shyly, glanced furtively at James, and said uncertainly, "I... want to go to Gryffindor."

"Another Gryffindor." Sirius shook his head.

James laughed heartily, "Tywin will definitely go to Hufflepuff, he's been a fool since he was a kid."

Let me tell you, Tywin once went swimming in the river with me, and Grindylow grabbed him and dragged him to the bottom. I ended up saving him..."

James started recounting Tywin's many embarrassing moments, and the other two laughed heartily.

Tywin looked embarrassed as he was mocked by his newfound friend, tears welling up in his eyes.

Soon, the snack cart arrived.

James pulled Tywin and ran towards the snack cart, with Sirius following behind.

But the scene didn't change; Lupin was still sitting alone in the car.

William finally knew whose memory it was.

Soon, the scene inside the carriage blurred and disappeared.

William stood Ravenclaw Table, before which lay the house table illuminated by candlelight, surrounded by rows of intently focused faces.

Professor McGonagall called out, "James Potter!"

James swaggered toward the Sorting Hat and sat down on the stool.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and less than a second after the hat touched his dark hair, she exclaimed, "Gryffindor!"

William heard Tywin beside him let out a painful sigh.

Tywin wasn't sorted into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, but instead unexpectedly ended up in Ravenclaw.

James took off his hat and handed it back to Professor McGonagall, then hurriedly ran towards the cheering Gryffindor students.

Tywin's gaze was fixed on James, but the boy didn't turn to look at him. Instead, he sat down next to Sirius and began chatting enthusiastically with him.

A flicker of jealousy and disappointment crossed Tywin's eyes.

William frowned, and in that instant, an utterly absurd thought occurred to him:

Professor Tywin stole the Ravenclaw Ring not to resurrect Voldemort, but to resurrect James Potter, who was killed by Voldemort!

Is this even possible?!

"William, I think we should go back." A voice whispered in William's ear.

William was startled. He turned around, then looked to the other side. In the High Table sat an Albus Dumbledore, watching the students sort into their houses, clapping intermittently—and beside him was another Albus Dumbledore, watching him intently.

"Come on," said Dumbledore beside him, reaching out to support William's elbow.

William felt himself slowly rising into the air, Hogwarts was dissipating, and in the blink of an eye, only darkness remained.

William felt as if he had done a slow-motion somersault, his feet suddenly landing on the ground, the surrounding light dazzling, he was already in Dumbledore's office.

The stone basin Winky in the cabinet in front of him, Dumbledore stood beside him.

"Professor," William quickly apologized, "I didn't mean to look at these memories—the cabinet door was open—"

"It's alright, you'll see these things sooner or later," Dumbledore said.

He picked up the stone basin, walked to the desk, placed it on the smooth surface, then sat down in the chair behind the desk and beckoned William to sit opposite him.

William sat down, his eyes fixed on the stone basin, his mind still replaying the memory from just now.

The contents of the basin returned to their silvery-white state, swirling and rippling before his eyes.

"I think you already know what this is," Dumbledore said.

"The Pensieve, Professor."

"Yes, the Pensieve, a very precious alchemical artifact. Hmm, sometimes I feel like my mind is crammed with too many thoughts and memories. I believe you understand this feeling."

William nodded; his mind was now filled with questions.

"Then I use the Pensieve," Dumbledore said, pointing to the basin, "To draw out the excess thoughts from my mind and pour them into this basin. When I have time, I look at them carefully. In this state, we can more easily see their form and the connections between them."

It sounds a bit like Holmes's memory palace.

Dumbledore pulled his wand from his robes and inserted the tip into his silver hair, near his temple.

When he pulled out his wand, there seemed to be some strands of hair stuck to the tip—but William immediately realized that it was actually a small wisp of the same silvery-white substance as in the basin.

Dumbledore added this new memory to the basin, and William saw Snape's face floating in it.

Dumbledore held the Pensieve in his long, slender hands and turned it, like a gold prospector turning a sand tray.

After a moment, Snape opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.

"Principal, I see myself, but I'm pretty sure it's not me."

The other person smelled of Polyjuice Potion. He was injured and tried to rush into my medicine storeroom, but I stopped him... Then, I followed the trail of blood to the entrance to the Ravenclaw lounge and found Robert dead.

Soon, Snape's face disappeared, replaced by Minister Fudge.

He stood angrily pacing in circles at the entrance of the Hospital Wing. After what seemed like an eternity, his face flushed, he roared, "A student and a professor have died! We used the Prior Incantato and detected that Dark Magic in Snape's wand!"

I must bring him into Azkaban, no matter what you say, Albus!

Dumbledore gazed at William from above the half-moon lens. "When you arrived, I was using the Pensieve."

Grey Lady alerted me, and I hurriedly put it away, intending to go to the Ravenclaw Common Room. I must have left the cabinet door slightly ajar, which naturally drew your attention.

"I'm sorry," William apologized again.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I told you, you'd see these things sooner or later, like this next section..."

Dumbledore frowned slightly and poked at the thoughts in the basin with the tip of his staff. A human figure immediately rose from the basin; it was Tywin, a tall, thin man of seventeen or eighteen, with an angry expression.

He was still standing in the basin, not even glancing at William and Dumbledore.

When he spoke, his voice echoed like Snape's, as if it came from the depths of the stone basin.

"James is dating Lily Evans, Professor Dumbledore. I'm just a little angry, I don't intend to cast a curse on that girl."

I mean, I saw them kissing at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop on Star Four, and I couldn't contain my anger..."

"Professor Dumbledore," William looked up at the boy and asked softly, "Has Professor Tywin always had a crush on James Potter... I mean, a crush?"

"Like?"

Dumbledore slowly repeated the somewhat ambiguous word, then seemed to remember something and sighed.