Arriving at the gargoyle that protects the Headmaster's office, I recited the password.
Dumbledore is a sweets fanatic apparently, the other time I visited the place the password was also the name of a sweet.
Although Honey Cake is not exactly a sweet, but it is sweet.
Logic doesn't seem to be something Dumbledore cares much about.
The office doors opened when I reached them, but I was alone for the moment. The Headmaster had left before breakfast was over, but he probably had other things to do before having his talk with me.
In my imagination he stopped to talk to McGonagall and then consulted Snape about me.
Fawkes sat on the perch in all the majesty that a Fiery Bird falsely accused of being a Phoenix can have.
I looked around the office taking in the plethora of useless trinkets filling the space. Useless in my opinion, but I believe that many of these things are worth thousands of galleons, some of them can be classified as priceless in the eyes of some people in this world.
Ten minutes passed, the office doors opened and the old man arrived with long strides that negated some of his docile and fragile appearance.
"Mr Mao, I hope I haven't made you wait too long." – declared the Headmaster in a friendly tone.
I just nodded towards him, not engaging in an unnecessary exchange of pleasantries.
He called me here probably to attack my way of life and my actions. As much as he wanted to make it seem like we were on the same side, I knew from our first meeting last summer that our philosophies were completely opposite.
He noticed the way I acted and reevaluated me in his eyes.
"I would like to have a few words with you, Seeing you before me now I need to expose some concerns that have been clouding my mind." – he declared while sitting in his chair behind the table.
He was probably establishing himself before me as an authority figure.
I took a deep breath, this kind of move has no effect on me, unless he starts threatening to throw me out of the castle, he doesn't really have authority over me.
"Is our conversation about the concerns of the Headmaster of Hogwarts or the concerns of Alvus Percival Ulfric Brian Dumbledore?" – I asked in a serious tone.
My question seemed to take him by surprise.
"Not many people call me by my full name these days." – he admitted thoughtfully.
I stood in front of his desk.
"I need to know who would like to talk to me to know if I'm going to sit down or not." – I explained, keeping eye contact with him.
The old man looked deep into my eyes deciding what his answer would be.
"You have an enviable Occlumency, Mr Mao, I'm not even capable of capturing your most superfluous thoughts. I believe that over the course of the conversation you will end up talking to both sides of me. But to begin this exchange of information… I will play my role as Headmaster of Hogwarts." – he declared, not hiding what he had just done.
I felt him try to penetrate my mind, he was good. If it weren't for the fact that my soul had reached the limit of the first rank, he would have been able to see everything he wanted. After all, he was also at that level.
I wondered what was stopping him from advancing to the next rank and the alternatives weren't very appealing to me.
I let the air escape my lungs and decided to sit in front of the old man.
I nodded for him to continue the conversation, I had nothing to say before he asked a question.
"Lemon Drop?" – he asked, trying to break the ice.
I raised my hand denying the offer.
I believe that his short lifespan led him to cultivate eccentricities, how sad the life cycle is in a Low-rate World.
"Your behavior since the school year began has caused me concerns. You have caused incidents that end up making me need to come to your defense. On the first day back to school you were involved in a physical conflict with your housemates. I know very well that they were the ones who looked for you at that moment. But you need to understand that it is not an easy task for someone my age to involve me in matters like this. Now, upon returning from the winter holidays, you assisted Miss Bulstrode in a deliberate attack on Mr Malfoy. I believe you understand where I'm going." – he said, preparing the narrative to interrogate me.
I analyzed the man in front of me and expanded my soul power to the limit.
Dumbledore's eyes flickered for a moment as he was engulfed in my soul power.
I then received the information I needed at that time.
What I wanted to know was the condition of the man in front of me, I didn't care about the information stuck in his head.
Although he had a well-cultivated soul, its uses were limited to Occlumency and Legilimency.
These limitations did not exist for me. In the Supreme Realm I was ranked as the second greatest soul master, but the reality was a little messier than that. Al Rugar and I never competed over which of us was more powerful.
The information I managed to capture when expanding my soul was that Dumbledore had a significant wound in his soul, which prevented him from advancing to the next rank.
The body of the old man in front of me also suffered from a lack of vitality.
He was a wizard at the third level of the third rank. He should have enough vitality to live for at least two hundred years. But his years were slipping away relatively quickly.
He would only have another decade, maybe two.
"In my opinion, both situations received adequate responses. An attack must be resisted beyond the pressure exerted by the attackers to succeed and words that must not be spoken must not be spoken unless you are prepared to pay for your actions." – I answered the question about conflicts with Malfoy.
I didn't give a shit about Malfoy, I was getting his father's money, but the Deatheater project didn't matter one bit in my eyes.
In a magical world he is nothing more than mere nothing. I didn't even need my wand to make him disappear from the map.
"Now regarding your age, it weighs on me to know that someone of your stature does not have the possibility of living all the years it should owed. Body and soul irreversibly damaged, the marks of a combatant and for that You Excellency have my respect. But on the other hand, my respect for you only goes so far. Our philosophies are too different for us to be friendly with each other, purely and simply because I believe you are a huge idiot." – I said to the Headmaster, making him perplexed by my words.
He evaluated me again thinking about how to proceed.
The old man in front of me was infinitely more powerful than me. At my normal rate of absorbing magical energy I would need almost twice the life expectancy of someone at that level to reach the same level as him.
My body wasn't good for magic.
I was a Cultivator by birth, my sensitivity to Mana was almost nil. Or in the case of this world, I was a normal Wizard.
"You are full of surprises, Mr Mao." – said the old man, admitting to himself that I was capable of doing things he couldn't.
He understood that I captured information about him using my soul.
"As you said, my body was irreversibly damaged, as for my soul, this is news to me. But you missed the fact that my magic core also suffers the same fate. This happened after I acquired an artifact more than half a century ago. Since then my magical path has been cut off and my body has lost a great deal of vitality. But that's not what I'd like to talk to you about, Mr Mao, please don't change the subject. The game you are playing is very dangerous and I need to make sure you know what you are doing.." – declared the old man in a serious tone.
The revelation that he hasn't been able to increase his magical power in over half a century was almost a punch to my gut.
I quickly did the calculations to determine his average mana absorption speed and I almost laughed at that moment. He only needed another decade or two to reach the fourth rank and equate to a cultivator at the Golden Core Stage.
In this world he would basically be considered a god.
"Definitely a Cursed Artifact you got your hands on." – I commented in passing.
At the Golden Core Stage, or rank 4 he would have five hundred years of life expectancy. He very well could be the first being in this world to ascend if it weren't for this misfortune.
"My behavior here isn't even close to a game, when I threatened the three Deatheaters, right here in this office, I wasn't trying to be a smartass. I was serious, if I wanted they would never find the bodies of the Minieaters." – I said, looking deep into his eyes.
Dumbledore didn't seem to like what I had said. He was considered the greatest white wizard today and I was in front of him saying that killing Hogwarts students was an easy task.
"Your power has grown at an almost alarming rate. You are surrounded by pureblood girls, three of whom are heiresses and Miss Weasley. And now you talk about killing Hogwarts students in front of me. I believe you can understand my concerns as the figure in command of this educational institution." – he said, choosing his words carefully.
I took a deep breath.
"Some of the things you want to know are secrets that only the girls who accompany me have the right to know. Now to try to clear some of the clouds from your thoughts. No, I'm not practicing Dark Magic or any type of Dark Art so that my power grows at the rate it has. If you don't believe me, I can make a unbreakable vow to guarantee this to you. As for the fact that I talk about killing students, I just didn't do it because you are here to stop me, otherwise I would have already started cleaning the castle. Their naivety in hoping that they can save themselves from the fate that has been presented to them is pitiful. This could have some effect if you didn't change the age to attend Hogwarts from 11 to 17. They could still be molded. Although they are still young, they have already been exposed to forms of power beyond the normal and they are already corrupted, in mind and in their magic." – I responded to the old man, trying to make him understand that the move that saved so many lives in the past would be the same one that will end up condemning almost all the generations that came after it.
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