Dumbledore was stunned for a while before finally saying, "Oh, that must be Jamieny. He's a fool but doesn't like to admit it. He insults every wizard who submits an article to him... unless it comes from a famous wizard or at least with a recommendation from one..."
"Huh." Murphy scoffed, finding this very much in line with wizarding traditions.
"Don't worry, I'll write you a recommendation letter," Dumbledore said. "Such intelligence should not be buried."
"Thank you, Professor," Murphy replied.
They walked a bit further and stopped near a rock at the castle's outer wall. Murphy was pondering how to ask Dumbledore for the Philosopher's Stone when Dumbledore suddenly halted, gazing at a nearby cliff, lost in thought. "Professor? What's wrong?"
"I remember there used to be a Weeping Tree here, but it's gone now." Dumbledore said.
"A Weeping Tree?"
"It was an apple tree that grew in this crevice in the cliff. Its trunk had a few knots that looked like a grieving old man. And it was said to be enchanted, with one green, deadly poisonous apple produced every year."
"There was a guy who wanted to prevent me from taking an exam by putting a green apple on my plate. Unfortunately, it was just an unripe ordinary apple. I still remember its taste, very sour. Strange, when did it disappear?"
Murphy was astonished, "You mean from when you were a student? How long has it been since you last came here?"
Dumbledore fell silent for a while before sighing. "Strangely, when I was a student, I was curious about this castle, but many areas were off-limits. Once I became a professor and had the right to explore any area, I lost that interest. It's been decades since I last came here."
"Even walking and thinking by this lake used to be something I often did when I was young. In the past ten years, you might be the only one who has invited me here."
"They probably think you're too busy," Murphy suggested.
"Or perhaps they just think I'm old, with frail legs, and afraid I'll trip over a rock."
Dumbledore even joked about his age.
"Murphy, do you know what the best magic in this world is?"
"The best?" Murphy was puzzled. "Patronus Charm?"
"Ah, the Patronus, of course. Repeatedly savoring those happy memories is indeed not bad... But for memories, a better way to deal with them is to forget."
"For an old man, the scariest thing is being able to clearly recall every memory in life."
"Every regret, every miss, every irreversible moment always lurking, ready to prick you."
"Even the beautiful memories, the happy, joyous ones, are still bittersweet. Because you clearly know that they are all in the past, never to return."
"You are at life's end, and with each passing day, you move further away from those golden years."
"Time is a burden," the old man said. "Maybe when you reach my age, you'll understand these words."
Dumbledore seemed to have many feelings, but Murphy couldn't yet comprehend his words.
He frowned, "So, you don't yearn for immortality?"
"Immortality..." Dumbledore seemed to zone out again, not grasping his intention. After a while, he said, "Strangely, I was fascinated by it when I was young."
"But later I realized, immortality suits those extremely lucky people - those who only receive happiness and gifts in the long run, without regrets. Or those cold, strong people - to whom others and the world mean little, and thus can endure endless loneliness."
"You mean Nicolas Flamel and Voldemort," Murphy said.
Dumbledore glanced at him, "Correct, Nicolas is very fortunate. And Tom..."
He paused and eventually refrained from judging his former student.
"I too yearn for immortality," Murphy suddenly said. "Even more, I want to study that Philosopher's Stone."
Dumbledore was silent, seemingly shocked by Murphy's frankness.
"Professor, I've always found it strange."
"The Philosopher's Stone can create gold and the Elixir of Life."
"Nobody dislikes gold, and nobody... well, maybe except you, dislikes immortality."
"Your friend Mr. Flamel must like it, otherwise why would he create it?"
"You said immortality suits at least two types of people, but isn't there anyone who thinks they might be as lucky as Flamel? Doesn't anyone think they could live richly and carefree for six hundred years like him?"
"Yet, the Stone is kept in the school, known by over a dozen professors, but no one wants to study it?"
"Are they all so detached from desires?"
"To be honest, I always feel like there's something wrong with our professors' mindset."
"Maybe I'm too greedy, but I always thought I was normal, which makes me feel out of place here."
After a long silence, Dumbledore finally said, "The Philosopher's Stone is a treasure, but it belongs to Nicolas. We have no right to dispose of it."
"What if I want the recipe for the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life?" Murphy continued. "Could you ask Mr. Flamel on my behalf?"
Another long silence, then Dumbledore struggled to say, "That's very dangerous knowledge... Both the Stone and the Elixir have immense power, enough to destroy many things we rely on."
"Few can resist their temptation, most people will just become twisted..."
"But your friend Nicolas Flamel can?" Murphy questioned.
"Nicolas... Nicolas is special, he's a hermit. He only wants a peaceful life, he doesn't have big ambitions, he won't abuse these..."
"So, you don't trust me," Murphy said. "Just like you didn't trust Tom Riddle."
Dumbledore looked at him in astonishment, "You know him?"
Murphy looked at him strangely, "So many people have fought and died for you, yet most of them don't even know who they're fighting against. You keep the enemy's secret so tightly. Honestly, I don't quite understand, Professor."
Dumbledore was silent again for a while before saying, "Trust is a luxury, Murphy."
Murphy nodded, "I understand."
"You don't even trust yourself, let alone others."
"But remember your view on the basic principle of magic?"
"Just believe in it, sincerely and unreservedly, and it will always give you miracles."
"Right?"
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