Dumbledore stood by the shoreline. Sunlight spilled over his silver-white hair as a sea breeze brushed past him. Fawkes perched quietly on his shoulder. His gaze rested on the two children before him:
A girl named Bud and a boy named Odin. When he heard the name "Odin," a barely perceptible flicker of realization flashed through his eyes.
No one knew what Dumbledore was thinking. Nor did anyone know exactly what he had understood.
Of course...
At that moment, Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the modern era, seemed to have revised his earlier judgment because of what he had just figured out. Behind his half-moon glasses, his blue eyes shimmered faintly, and a thoughtful smile curved the corners of his lips.
"You want to learn magic?"
He lowered his head to look at the boy named Odin, his voice suddenly becoming lighter.
"Really? Can I really learn magic and become a wizard like Elder Brother Ian?" Odin's eyes widened, and uncontrollable joy spread across his face.
Hearing this, Dumbledore nodded, his signature gentle yet mysterious smile appearing once more. "Yes, I think there may be some differences, but you might truly be able to become a wizard."
At that moment, his tone carried layers of meaning. Little Odin's silver-gray eyes instantly lit up, and he completely forgot that only moments ago, the old man had said he lacked magical power.
Bud urgently tugged at the hem of Dumbledore's robes.
"What about me? What about me?"
She was also curious about the mysterious power Ian had displayed. Unlike Odin, however, her desire was much simpler, she just wanted to fly straight up into the sky like Ian did.
"Of course you can try as well," The old man said warmly as a hint of nostalgia flashed through his eyes. "I've been a teacher for half a century, and I like hardworking children the most."
This was, in fact, the truth.
Very few people knew…
Or rather, very few people at Hogwarts knew that Albus Dumbledore's career as a professor had actually been quite long. Everyone had simply grown accustomed to his years as headmaster.
Bud immediately beamed, her eyes sparkling. "Then what is magic like? Is it like Elder Brother Ian said? Can you fly through the skies and earth and defeat Ancient Dragons?"
Odin nodded vigorously in agreement. "Yes, yes! Elder Brother Ian said that wizards are the strongest beings, able to summon storms, command fire, and even bring the dead back to life!"
It had to be said that the world of wizards filled the two children with immense curiosity.
"That," Dumbledore said with a faint smile, "is something Ian himself may not fully realize. Resurrection, even using dark magic, is not something every wizard can accomplish."
After speaking, Dumbledore did not immediately correct them. Instead, he slowly sat down on a smooth rock.
With a wave of his hand, he conjured two comfortable wicker chairs and a small, round table. On the table was a plate of candies that constantly shifted shapes. He then gestured for the two children to sit as well.
"Wow! There's food, too!"
"Magic! This is magic! I like magic!"
The two children immediately gathered around the chairs on the beach and tilted their faces upward, eagerly awaiting the opening words of this mysterious visitor.
"First of all," He said, sitting opposite them as his wand lightly tapped the tabletop, "Can either of you tell me what you think magic is?"
Bud bit her finger and thought for a moment. "Is it a power that can make things fly?"
"It's the power to defeat Ancient Dragons!" Odin shouted impatiently, waving the wooden stick in his hand. "Elder Brother Ian said the most powerful wizards can summon Ultraman Tiga!"
Although he had no idea what Ultraman Tiga actually was, that did not stop the boy from feeling that it sounded incredibly impressive, especially since Ian's tone at the time had deeply stirred his young heart.
Dumbledore chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing in amusement behind his spectacles as he spoke. "Both of your answers are excellent. Magic can indeed allow people to do such things, but it is far more than that."
He removed his glasses and wiped them, fine wrinkles showing at the corners of his eyes. "Magic is a kind of energy that exists all around us, as natural as the wind, sunlight, and moonlight."
"Magic," Dumbledore continued slowly, his voice gentle as a spring breeze, "Is not the sort of miracle you imagine. It is a way of understanding the world, a language that resonates with nature."
When it came to guiding children who did not yet understand magic into the magical world, Dumbledore naturally had plenty of experience. After all, Hogwarts welcomed many students from Muggle families every year.
Especially in the early years of the last century, before the age of abundant literature and film, young Muggle-born wizards knew no more about magic than people of this era.
Bud blinked. "A language?"
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Just like the way you speak, except it is woven from thought, emotion, and will. Behind every spell lies ancient knowledge and power."
Odin asked curiously, "Then how do you learn it? Do you have to memorize a lot of words first?"
"Memory is certainly important," Dumbledore said with a smile, "But understanding is even more so. Take the spell Lumos, for example, it means to bring forth light. If you merely recite the word mechanically, without truly wanting to see the light, it will not work."
Bud frowned and thought for a while. "So… magic is really turning what's in your heart into reality?"
"Very close," Dumbledore said approvingly, looking at her. "Magic is a dialogue between the heart and the world. When your heart is firm enough and your desire is clear enough, the world will respond."
"Spells exist to deepen our yearning for that desire, and what responds to us is the magical power unique to wizards," Dumbledore added, fully aware that the two children did not really understand what magical power meant.
As he spoke…
He raised his wand and traced a glowing ring in the air. "Some people are born able to sense and guide this energy within themselves; we call them wizards. Others, like you…" His gaze moved between the two children's faces, "...may need to find special paths to touch it."
At this…
Bud and Odin listened with only partial understanding.
"Why weren't we born able to?" Odin asked, his little face scrunching up as his fingers unconsciously rubbed the wooden stick in his hand.
"For that, I have no answer; it is just like how some people are born fast runners, while others are born with beautiful singing voices."
Dumbledore conjured a dancing paper crane. "Magical talent works the same way. But that doesn't mean you can't learn, it simply means you need to find the right method."
Bud reached out curiously and touched the paper crane. It immediately settled on her fingertip, its wings gently fluttering. "It's so pretty… can magic only do beautiful things like this?"
"Oh, no." Dumbledore's expression suddenly grew serious, and the paper crane dissolved into a wisp of greenish smoke. "Magic can create miracles, but it can also bring terrible disasters." His voice lowered. "A powerful spell can heal fatal wounds, and it can also take innocent lives."
Odin straightened his back. "Like Elder Brother Ian said… magic should be used to protect others?"
Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted slightly. "That's what Ian taught you?"
When the boy nodded, a look of relief appeared on his face. "He's absolutely right. The highest realm of magic is not power, but how one uses it."
"Then how do we start learning?" Bud asked eagerly, her eyes shining.
The old man conjured two color-changing flowers and handed one to each child. "First, you must learn to perceive. Close your eyes and try to feel the energy within the flowers."
Odin squeezed his eyes shut so hard that his little face scrunched up. Bud, meanwhile, secretly opened one eye, only to see Dumbledore wink at her, prompting her to quickly close it again.
"Not with your eyes, but with this," Dumbledore said softly, tapping his own chest. "Imagine you're holding a ball of warm sunlight in your hands."
Five minutes later, Odin opened his eyes in frustration. "I can't feel anything at all!"
"Patience, child." Dumbledore conjured a small harp that began to play itself. "When I was eleven, I received my acceptance letter from a magical school. Before that, I didn't even know I was a wizard."
This was clearly a kind lie.
After all…
He had been born into a wizarding family, the powerful Dumbledore House.
"A magic school?" The two children asked in unison, longing shining in their eyes.
"Hogwarts, the finest magic school in all of Europe," The old man said, his voice filled with nostalgia. "Within the castle are moving staircases, talking portraits, and…"
"Ancient Dragons?" Odin cut in.
"Sadly, no," Dumbledore said with a laugh, shaking his head. "But we do have Thestrals, phoenixes, and hippogriffs."
He stood up, his wand tracing a graceful arc through the air. Countless points of light poured from the tip, forming a miniature Hogwarts castle upon the sand. Flags fluttered atop the towers, and in the Black Lake one could even see tiny merpeople leaping from the water.
"Wow!" The two children exclaimed, lying flat on the ground to study the magical model.
"Magic is divided into many disciplines," Dumbledore explained as he guided the model through changing seasons. "Transfiguration can turn a teacup into a mouse. Charms allow objects to float. Herbology studies plants imbued with magical power."
Each time he named a discipline, he demonstrated a simple spell. A teapot became a hopping rabbit, pebbles danced a waltz in midair, and a patch of glowing mushrooms bloomed across the sand.
"What's the hardest kind of magic?" Odin asked, gazing up, silver-gray eyes reflecting the swirling magical lights.
Dumbledore fell silent for a moment. "Love."
The two children exchanged puzzled looks.
"This isn't the kind of love that lets you conjure flowers," The old man said, his gaze growing distant. "It is a deeper, more ancient form of magic, one that can create miracles and break even the most powerful curses."
His voice gradually softened, as though he had fallen into some distant memory.
Bud timidly tugged at his sleeve. "Can you teach us how to make flowers?"
Dumbledore came back to himself, a warm smile returning to his face. "Of course." He conjured two slender wooden sticks and handed them to the children. "They aren't real wands, but they're enough for practicing the basics."
For the next half hour, the beach echoed with Dumbledore's patient instructions and the children's excited shouts. Odin focused intently on copying every wand movement, while Bud cared more about making her stick produce pretty points of light.
"Relax your wrist, keep the motion smooth," Dumbledore corrected Odin's stiff movements. "Like stirring a pot of toffee syrup, not beating up a Pukwudgie."
At that moment, a spark suddenly burst from the tip of Odin's stick. Though it vanished in an instant, it was enough to make the boy jump up and cheer. "I did it! Did you see that?"
To this…
Dumbledore had been watching all along and the look in his eyes grew slightly deeper.
But…
A smile still appeared on his face.
"Very good!" Dumbledore applauded. "You've taken your first step."
Hearing this…
Odin burst into laughter. Bud looked at her younger brother with envy and swung her own stick even more earnestly. Dumbledore crouched down and gently held her small hand.
"Don't rush. Everyone has their own rhythm," He said, guiding the girl through a proper casting motion. "See? Doesn't this feel more comfortable?"
When a faint glimmer finally appeared at the tip of Bud's stick…
Her face flushed red with a bright, excited blush of happiness.
"It seems your willpower is quite strong," Dumbledore said after seeing that Bud could also produce magic. His pupils flickered slightly, and his expression carried a thoughtful undertone.
The deeper meaning of his words was not perceived by the two children, who in truth did not possess magical power. After all, they were still rather vague about what magical power was, and why they themselves lacked it.
"I'm definitely a genius!" Odin exclaimed as he leapt to his feet, already impatient. "I'm ready to become a wizard! What do we learn next? Combat magic?"
He looked full of ambition.
Dumbledore was just about to answer when Fawkes suddenly let out a sharp cry.
The old man looked up. In the distant sky appeared a golden-red figure, it was another phoenix flying toward them, its wingspan a full ten feet wide.
It was an enormous phoenix.
Its wings tore through the heavens like a burning shooting star. The figure was both familiar and awe-inspiring, outwardly similar to Fawkes, yet countless times larger in scale.
And brimming with magical power.
"A legendary-class magical creature." Albus Dumbledore's gaze tightened slightly.
"Phoenix God!" Bud cried out as she ducked behind Dumbledore.
"It's actually appeared for the second time today!"
Odin's eyes widened as well. Their voices were filled with awe and excitement. But Dumbledore's expression grew deep and serious.
From the children's words, the old professor could easily discern a deeper truth: this phoenix was most likely here for him, and the previous time, it had probably come for Ian.
"So I've already come this close to Ian," Dumbledore said as he rose to his feet, his robes snapping loudly in the suddenly rising wind. He stared at the approaching phoenix, realizing that the divine bird was coming for him. Fawkes beat his wings uneasily on his shoulder, letting out a low cry.
"It seems our lesson will have to be paused for now," Dumbledore said softly, his gaze never leaving the phoenix in the sky. "But don't worry, we'll continue very soon."
The two children gazed up at the heavens, their eyes reflecting those burning wings. They did not know that at this moment, the meeting between the great phoenix and the small phoenix, would mark the beginning of something capable of influencing history itself.
(End of chapter)
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