"Main Hall."
A woman's voice in the elevator spoke coldly as the golden gates opened, and Dumbledore and Vid stepped out together.
They hadn't walked far before they saw a large fountain in the middle of the hall, with a series of solid gold statues at its center. A handsome and noble wizard raised a Magic Wand, and a beautiful witch looked at him admiringly, surrounded by centaurs, goblins, and House-Elves all gazing at them with limitless reverence.
The base of the fountain was littered with many shiny coins, and a small sign beside it read:
[All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren are donated to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries].
Both of them stopped by the fountain and looked up at the statues.
"A fine piece of art, isn't it?"
Dumbledore tossed a handful of coins into the fountain with a smile and said, "But I suppose only wizards and House-Elves would appreciate this artwork. Centaurs and goblins might not find it pleasing."
"Goblins would like the gold on it," Vid retorted.
Dumbledore laughed and said, "Right."
"Will the money really be used on the patients?" Vid asked. "Muggles usually use wishing wells as a means to make money."
"You can rest assured on that point," Dumbledore said. "Magic makes wizards a bit more trustworthy."
So Vid also took a handful of coins from his pocket and threw them in, the golden Galleons standing out among the pile of Silver Sickles and Copper Knuts.
A stream of water gushed from the ear of the House-Elf statue, crashing onto the water surface in front of Vid, the splashing drops seemingly turning golden as well.
After a moment of silence, Dumbledore sighed and said, "Wizards, centaurs, goblins, and House-Elves—we are actually equal in intelligence and magic... just as wizards and Duds and Muggles are all human."
"Each race forms an inseparable part of our society. But the prejudices and arrogance of wizards always cause other races to endure suffering, and wizards inevitably taste the bitter fruit of it."
"Isn't it the same even among wizards?"
Vid said, "Pure-Bloods disdain Half-Bloods and Muggle-borns, nobles disdain commoners, the rich disdain the poor, the clever disdain the dim-witted... even without racial differences, the chain of disdain is everywhere."
"But some disdain drives us to strive forward;" Dumbledore said, "while some others, just because of one's background, result in much suffering."
Vid remained silent.
Perhaps Dumbledore was hinting at House-Elves, or maybe at Duds or Muggles.
He was discussing matters children wouldn't think about, yet Vid had no desire to lay bare his own thoughts for discussion.
After a brief silence, Dumbledore said in a cheerful tone, "Let's go."
"Professor, where are we going?" Vid asked as he caught up with him.
"You followed me without knowing our destination?" Dumbledore asked deliberately.
"You're Dumbledore," Vid said briefly.
Dumbledore laughed again.
This time, his smile appeared far more genuine, with his blue eyes squinting beneath his half-moon glasses and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes relaxing.
"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. "An old friend I haven't seen in a long time."
...
Upon leaving the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore asked, "Have you ever tried Apparating, Vid?"
"No, Professor," Vid said, shaking his head.
"Then I can take you for a try. You need to hold my arm tightly." Dumbledore extended his arm and said, "This doesn't feel very pleasant, but don't worry, I'll ensure your safety."
Vid took hold of Dumbledore's arm.
Dumbledore was very tall, making Vid feel more like a child.
"Very well, let's get going!"
As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking, Vid felt an intense compression, as if the air from all directions was pressing on him, trying to squeeze his body into a ping-pong ball...
With a "pop," Vid only felt as if he had been squeezed out of a narrow pipe, his body instantly restored, his limbs feeling as if they had grown back.
After a moment, he looked up to see Dumbledore patiently waiting for him to recover.
"Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked with concern. "The feeling takes some getting used to."
"I'm fine," Vid exhaled and said. "I heard that during the war, even underage children had to learn Apparition."
"Yes, that was indeed the case," Dumbledore said.
Vid looked around. They were in an unfamiliar valley, a dark and winding path leading into dense woods.
On a nearby hillside stood a delicate yet dilapidated old house. Not far away was a graveyard overgrown with weeds.
The surroundings did not look inhabited.
Vid faintly sensed something, but he didn't ask questions and followed Dumbledore silently along the winding path.
Dumbledore didn't leave him to guess either. He waved his magic wand, a mist rolled in, and Vid seemed to see two hazy figures ahead.
He couldn't clearly make out their features, only that they appeared to be a man and a woman. The man rode a horse, looking well-dressed and elegant; the woman was hunched, her back slightly bent, dressed in rags.
They seemed so mismatched, yet the man lifted the woman onto the horse, and they rode along the path together.
"Many years ago, there was a pair of young lovers here—Tom Riddle, the handsome son of a Muggle family, eloped with Merope Gaunt, the daughter of a wizard family. It was a shocking scandal at the time."
"In people's eyes, Riddle was a local squire, while the Gaunt family were known as mad wanderers; they were completely incompatible. So a few months later, when Tom Riddle returned to the village alone, the villagers were not in the least surprised."
Amidst the mist, a man stumbled back, the girl beside him nowhere to be seen.
Dumbledore extended his arm. "Come, let me take you to see what happened to Merope next."
Vid again took hold of his arm.
With a "bang," they appeared from a narrow alleyway.
Dumbledore cast the Disillusionment Charm, and they walked out of the alley. Vid recognized it as a district of London.
There were some Muggles on the road, but they couldn't see Vid or Dumbledore at all.
The mist rolled in again, as a vague, pregnant woman struggled to walk down the street, the white snowflakes faintly visible as they fell onto her shoulders.
Vid followed behind her, hearing Dumbledore say, "Having lost her husband, Merope was pregnant but living in severe poverty. On a snowy night, she gave birth to a child in an orphanage ahead."
The woman's blurry figure collapsed, the people in the yard next to her heard the commotion, running out from a large iron gate, calling out to each other, then together supporting her inside.
The scene shifted, and a baby was born.
A woman in an apron held the baby, bringing him to his mother's side to be seen. The woman struggled to say something, then moved no more, her arms drooping powerlessly.
"After giving birth to this child, Merope died. On her deathbed, she named him after his father—Tom Marvolo Riddle."