Melvin was sitting by the fire, watching the hound devour its plate of food, and he remained silent.
"Quick, quick..."
"Plop, plop..."
Yaya buried her head in the plate, focused on her dinner. She was eating a broth that Melvin had prepared with some ingredients in the cabin.
He took a strip of bacon hanging on the wall and shredded it. He grabbed some rock cakes, frozen as iron, from the cupboard and broke them into small pieces with a dividing spell. He added water and boiled them in the pot, creating a salty, fragrant soup.
It had meat, salt, carbohydrates, and was still piping hot.
"Woof..."
Yaya paused to look at Melvin, her pink tongue licking her mouth. She pushed her head against his calf, rubbing twice before returning to her meal.
"Eat quickly, it'll cool soon."
Melvin rubbed her head. Yaya nudged him a couple more times, squinting in satisfaction.
"Hulu..."
Fang devoured the small pot of meat-pie soup, licking the edge of the dog's bowl until it was spotless. Melvin thought about adding another bowl, but some was still left. Yet Fang refused to eat, lying on the floor with his belly exposed, groaning.
He would save it for the next day's rations.
Melvin cast a simple cleaning spell to disperse the smell, ensured the cabin was well ventilated, and added two more logs to the stove before slowly rising to leave.
Seeing him depart, Fang, despite his swollen belly, quickly stood and, with a howl, guided him out of the Forbidden Forest before returning home.
After several hours of travel, it was lights-out at the castle.
Melvin looked up, watching the faint lights filtering through the windows.
Only a few windows remained lit: Professor McGonagall's office, the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, the abandoned classroom beside the library on the second floor, the Gryffindor common room, and the headmaster's office, where a figure still moved faintly...
Ten minutes later.
The headmaster's office.
A cup of hot chocolate, with four sugar cubes on top, steamed on the desk, and a phoenix pecked at its perch. Behind the desk sat the current headmaster, and on the wall hung portraits of former headmasters, all listening silently as the young professor recounted the night's events.
Hogwarts had existed for nearly a thousand years and had seen all kinds of wicked, cruel dark wizards. It had even trained many famous ones, whose names were recorded in history. Each headmaster had to face several dark wizards during their tenure. Dumbledore's achievements were the most remarkable. Before he officially assumed the role of headmaster, he had already defeated Grindelwald, leader of the Wiccan Party, and faced the Dark Lord a decade earlier. Having saved the wizarding world twice, his accomplishments were nearly comparable to those of the four founding fathers.
The portraits of the former headmasters were not particularly interested in the sudden emergence of a dark wizard in Hogsmeade, but they noticed that Dumbledore, the most successful, was listening intently, as if taking the matter very seriously. So the portraits grew animated and took their time.
Melvin smelled the aroma of hot chocolate as he finished recounting his experiences of the night.
Phineas Black wanted to speak, but Headmaster Moore, beside him, stopped him. Dumbledore reflected, and a cluster of portraits grew tense as well. He looked at Melvin and asked:
"The magic in the last string is very different. What is different?"
"Very deceptive, very evil, the malice is almost comparable to an Unforgivable Curse."
"Oh..." murmured the headmaster's portrait on the wall.
Dumbledore looked at the young professor before him with deep eyes and made a decision in his heart: "I think I know who it is."
Melvin feigned confusion: "Who?"
"An old friend. Do you remember the dark wizard I mentioned to you last time?"
Dumbledore paused, with a sigh in his voice: "Those things happened a long time ago. I need to sort through the muddled memories in my mind... The story begins 54 years ago. At that time, I was a Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. My work was the same as Minerva's now. Every year, before school started, I had to visit students from Muggle families and guide them to enrollment.
"One of the students was very special. He had no family and lived in the Wood Orphanage in London. His name was Tom Riddle..."
Melvin listened silently, merging the memories of his past life with Dumbledore's narration, reconstructing the full truth of the matter.
In the early autumn of 1938, Dumbledore and Riddle met for the first time. He thought the boy was poor and lonely, but in truth, Riddle fully used his magical talent to steal, pilfer, and bully other children... Neither left a good impression on the other.
After school began, Riddle's behavior deepened Dumbledore's wariness. After Hagrid was implicated in the Chamber of Secrets incident, he began paying close attention to Riddle's actions.
[...]
By the end:
"...I have every reason to believe that the dark wizard who attacked Hagrid tonight was Professor Quirrell, and that the last evil magic came from my old friend, Voldemort."
Dumbledore paused before pronouncing the name. The cold wind outside the window seemed to freeze for a moment, then grew stronger.
Melvin organized all the connections in his mind, pondered for a moment, and asked quietly: "Why did the headmaster tell me such a secret?"
"Well... there are many reasons." Dumbledore took a sip of hot chocolate and began to list them. "You went to school at Ilvermorny and didn't live through that turbulent period. No one repeated to you how terrible it was. You could call him by name without hesitation. Not even Minerva could do that."
Melvin shook his head. Professor McGonagall is head of Gryffindor. She fears no dark wizard, not even the Dark Lord.
"I know..." explained Dumbledore. "Many wizards resist saying that name. Not out of fear. Rather, it's a habit from that time. Voldemort cast a spell on his own name. Every time it was spoken, it could trigger detection. With his downfall, this spell lost its deterrent effect. For more than a decade, the name has been tied to too many bloody tragedies. Its mere mention evokes memories of the dead."
"Many foreign wizards can call Voldemort by name. Isn't that why you told me these secret truths?" said Melvin.
"If I don't tell you, won't you find out?" Dumbledore stared into his eyes.
Meeting those blue eyes, Melvin instinctively tried to activate Occlumency, but found no magical fluctuations. The headmaster's gaze carried no penetrating power or pressure; it was simply a gentle exchange.
Dumbledore looked away and took another sip of hot chocolate. "As the newly appointed Muggle Studies professor, you've barely interacted with your former teacher. In less than two weeks of term, you seem to have uncovered Quirrell's schemes and deliberately used your supposed Muggle psychology to drive him off."
"As you said, it's based on psychoanalysis."
"Can psychoanalysis reveal the location of Ravenclaw's diadem?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.
"Uh..."
Melvin, feeling somewhat guilty, avoided the headmaster's gaze and silently savored the cloying hot chocolate.
In the Room of Requirement, he had impulsively found Ravenclaw's Diadem to earn the headmaster's trust. Looking back, he realized he had been a bit rash. Since everyone knew its location, he should have waited a few days and simply said he stumbled upon it by chance. That would have made sense.
Dumbledore respected the small secrets of those whose trust he earned and pressed no further.
"Melvin, perhaps you wonder why, knowing Professor Quirrell's identity and that he and Voldemort had infiltrated the castle to seize the Philosopher's Stone, I didn't arrest them?"
[...]
Finally:
"Yes, Harry Potter..."
The smile faded from Dumbledore's face, and his eyes grew sorrowful: "Harry's parents, James and Lily, were dear friends at school. They married soon after graduation and endured that turbulent era. They hid from place to place while expecting and raising a child. I still remember them now, a very optimistic young couple. Each time we gathered to share information, we learned of fresh tragedy somewhere. When everyone was grieving, they always broke the silence so the meeting could go on.
"In those days, life felt unbearably hard, yet barely endurable.
It wasn't until 1981, ten years ago, when Harry was one year old, that their hiding place was revealed. Voldemort sought them out and murdered them brutally.
Before she died, Lily left a blessing on little Harry, a powerful ancient spell. That spell deflected the Killing Curse aimed at Harry and destroyed Voldemort's body.
From then on, Harry's and Voldemort's fates were inextricably linked. For reasons I cannot reveal yet, I am certain that Voldemort will return. It is foreseeable that the resurrected Voldemort will seek out Harry. Harry has little time left. He must quickly become familiar with the Dark Lord, or at least gain some experience."
(End of chapter)
In two weeks, there will be discounts on Harry Potter chapters on Patreon. I've created a special category and you'll be able to download them.
(Limited time only)