When Professor McGonagall found Marcel, he was with Vylie in the greenhouse, recording the growth of the flower seeds from last time.
"Oh! Mr. Maclean, you're here," Professor McGonagall said immediately after pushing open the greenhouse door. "Come with me, Dumbledore has something to talk to you about."
Marcel unhurriedly closed his notebook and then looked up at the door.
"Alright, Professor McGonagall." After saying that, he turned to Vylie and said, "Miss Blois, it seems I have to leave for a bit. You can go back after you're done. You don't have to wait for me here."
With that, he casually tidied up his notebook and followed Professor McGonagall to the headmaster's office.
Although he had been there several times, Marcel never had a good feeling about the place. Every time he faced Dumbledore directly, there was always an invisible pressure that bore down on him, never allowing him to relax.
Especially this time, he had done many things that others did not know about. But being able to hide it from others did not mean he could also hide it from Dumbledore. In this, the mastery of "degree" was very important.
Marcel didn't wait long in the headmaster's office before Dumbledore pushed the door open and came in.
"How have you been lately?" Dumbledore said lightly. "Would you like some iced lemon juice?"
"I think that's a good idea," Marcel said calmly, nodding.
When the two were sitting face to face, each behind and in front of the desk, Dumbledore took the initiative to start the conversation.
"You must be very curious about why I've asked you to come at this time," Dumbledore said gently. "It's not a very complicated matter—"
"I just invited you to listen to a little story."
Marcel didn't understand what this so-called "little story" had to do with him, but that didn't stop him from being a good listener.
"A long time ago, there was a young wizard who had a happy family and a good life. When he entered Hogwarts to study magic, he discovered his talent and, with it, a series of ambitions and ideals..."
Dumbledore narrated gently in a soothing tone, as if reminiscing about something.
Behind his half-moon glasses, his pale blue eyes shone with a faint light.
"This little wizard's ideal was simple, but also grand. As a young man, he had not yet considered the correctness of this ideal."
"Several years later, the little wizard graduated from Hogwarts with the best grades... but his family had many, many accidents during these years, which forced him to interrupt his ideal."
"At that time, his sister was still young. When she was casting magic, she was attacked by three Muggle boys who saw her display her magical abilities. This attack made his sister's spirit very unstable—her magic went out of control. And their father, in order to retaliate against those Muggle boys, used magic... to ensure that his poor daughter would not be imprisoned in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for life, he took all the blame himself... he was sent to Azkaban."
"After that, their mother moved with them..."
Hearing this, Marcel immediately realized that the little wizard in this story was probably Dumbledore himself.
Dumbledore's story continued...
"But the unfortunate events did not end there," Dumbledore said, raising his head slightly. His lenses became bright with the changing angle of the light, obscuring his slightly dazed eyes.
"When the little wizard's sister was fourteen, her magic went out of control again... This accident brought her mother's life to an end. At that time, the little wizard's younger brother, the only one who could stop his sister's magic from going out of control, was not at home."
"At that time, the little wizard was in great pain... extreme pain. But what had happened had happened, it was irreversible, and life had to go on. He endured his brother's resentment, constantly comforted his self-blaming sister, and took on the responsibility of this broken family."
Speaking of which, Dumbledore was silent for a while before continuing.
"But just then, a little wizard with the same ambitions as him appeared. They quickly established a deep friendship and let the little wizard pick up his ideal again."
"They set off together, searching for some clues the little wizard had obtained while studying at Hogwarts... During this period, in order to accept a certain trial, the little wizard lost his emotions."
Hearing this, Marcel's heart skipped a beat. A lot of questions almost jumped out of his throat.
But when he saw that Dumbledore was still immersed in his own story, the words that were on the tip of his tongue were forced back down.
Perhaps Dumbledore was once one of the candidates; perhaps Dumbledore had long known about his little secrets; or perhaps this sudden conversation was born from this.
Marcel decided not to interrupt Dumbledore's story. If he wanted to say it, he would tell him eventually.
"...And just then, the little wizard's younger brother pointed out that if he had his sister as a burden, the little wizard would never be able to become a heroic leader. The little wizard's best friend was very angry about this and cast a Cruciatus Curse on the little wizard's younger brother."
"At this moment, the little wizard's sealed emotions loosened—he protected his younger brother. But because of this, a chaotic duel broke out between the three of them. In the chaos, the little wizard's sister hoped to help her brothers, but was killed by a spell cast by an unknown person!"
Dumbledore's long white beard trembled slightly, as if he still hadn't gotten over it.
"The little wizard's emotions were restored because of this, and the trial that he had been helpless against was thus passed... but he gave up all the subsequent trials and his own ideal. He didn't know what meaning his persistence had all along—his sister was dead, his brother hated him forever, and even his best friend had fled far away."
Speaking of which, Dumbledore suddenly looked at Marcel, his eyes sharp and serious.
"If it were you, what would you do?" he asked.
Marcel pursed his lips, his face still calm. He thought, and thought, really considering this question, but he didn't know.
After a long time, Marcel finally said, "The answer to this question needs to be found by oneself."
Dumbledore's face was tense. He looked at Marcel, and after a while, he actually smiled.
"You are stronger than the little wizard in this story," said Dumbledore. "He eventually gave up looking, but you probably won't."
"That's probably because I'm a Hufflepuff," Marcel said.
It seemed that the reason Dumbledore had called Marcel this time was really just to tell this story. In the time that followed, the old and the young wizard sat opposite each other, both drinking lemon juice without a word, each thinking their own thoughts, until the start of the banquet, when they left one after another.
Regarding the things Marcel had done, Dumbledore might have known, or he might not have fully understood. But he had no intention of asking at all.
This time, the entire banquet lasted for a whole night.
Harry and Ron both received some points, which allowed Gryffindor to finally win the House Cup this year.
After that, Professor McGonagall stood up and told them that, to treat everyone, the school had decided to cancel the exams. All the students were very happy about this, except for Hermione.
And Dumbledore announced that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would not be able to return next term. Hearing this news, everyone burst into cheers—after all, no matter what miracle he had created, his lessons were really terrible.
In addition, it was worth mentioning that several teachers were also cheering for this.
Apart from these surprises, this banquet was indeed very lively, but Marcel had never been very used to such lively scenes. Especially recently, he always liked to be alone in a deserted place to think about problems.
In the middle of the banquet, he took a drink and walked out of the Great Hall.
"Professor Lockhart?" Marcel suddenly turned his head. "Why are you out here too? Shouldn't you be the one enjoying this kind of banquet the most? You are the hero of Hogwarts this term."
Hearing this, Lockhart actually shook his head with a bitter smile. A rare sense of reality appeared on his face.
"Many people have told me all sorts of great truths in the past, but I have never taken their words to heart," he said. "But this time, after experiencing it myself, I finally understand how boring it is to be an incompetent spectator in an exciting adventure."
Marcel glanced at him and said calmly, "It seems I can look forward to your next book."
Hearing this, Lockhart's eyes widened.
"Oh—" he couldn't help but exclaim. "I really can't believe it. Are you really a child who hasn't even finished his second year? How did you know—"
"When a writer feels 'bored' with his own story, he will most likely tear up his manuscript and create a new story."
Obviously, Marcel had already concluded that Lockhart would never write another "false novel" about this incident.
"I think you will definitely become a terrifying wizard in the future," Lockhart couldn't help but say.
Marcel squeezed out a stiff smile at him.
"In that case, becoming friends with such a terrifying wizard is the wisest choice," he said drily. "Perhaps I will have to ask you for help in the future, so, remember to protect your fame in the wizarding world."
"Haha, of course," Lockhart said with an awkward laugh.
That night, the night sky was still so deep, the stars twinkling, as if telling the people on the ground: everything in the world will, like the rotation of the stars and the moon, return to peace.
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