'Finite'
The old man ambled slowly down the cobblestone street, his presence both commanding and serene. He cast no spells, leaving Ian struggling to assess the situation. All he sensed was an invisible force that had halted the chaotic magic before it spiraled out of control.
As the fierce flames vanished, it felt as though the world itself had dimmed, leaving behind only a faint, acrid scent of smoke. It was the sole evidence of the great fire that had once raged.
Moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the night sky. It was as if nothing had ever transpired. Even the charred remnants of the fence had been miraculously restored.
"Headmaster Dumbledore…" Ian recognized the old man approaching and instinctively lowered his head and a wave of embarrassment washed over him. A mixture of worry and confusion filled his mind— what could possibly bring Dumbledore to Hogsmeade Village at such a late hour?
"I prefer if you can call me Professor. It makes me feel less old-fashioned," Dumbledore said with a quick stride towards Ian. He refrained from scolding him for his recklessness, instead approaching with a playful tone.
"Alright, Professor Dumbledore," Ian corrected himself immediately.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Dumbledore glanced towards the door of the wooden house as he spoke.
"Apologies, I must have been scared out of my wits," Ian replied, hurriedly pushing open the door and gesturing for Dumbledore to enter. A twinge of nervousness fluttered within him, unsure of Dumbledore's intentions— his 'Thought Perception' ability could sense Snape's emotions, but it faltered in the presence of the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
"I didn't expect to encounter a bold wizard, attempting to create a new spell right at his doorstep, on my way back to the castle," Dumbledore remarked with a sigh as he stepped inside. He surveyed the tidy living room, glanced towards Ian's bedroom, and finally chose to sit at the desk by the window.
"That was far from creation; it could only be called a disaster," Ian said quickly, moving to the tea table to pour Dumbledore a cup of black tea.
"You've at least embarked on this path, and that's significant," Dumbledore replied, pulling out a bag of brown sugar and generously pouring it into his tea.
It was a straightforward compliment, yet Ian couldn't bring himself to feel pleased.
"If it weren't for your help, Professor, I might have caused a huge disaster," He began, preemptively criticizing himself before Dumbledore could say a word. "I shouldn't have attempted such a dangerous experiment. I almost burned down the entire village. I'm such a fool!" The realization of his recklessness sent a genuine shiver of fear through him.
Dumbledore paused, taking in Ian's remorseful reflection. Then, with a wry smile, he shook his head before speaking. "We can't be too harsh on young wizards like you." He didn't look up from his tea, seemingly focused on mixing it. "I just hope this close call will remind you that 'caution' is far more important than any other quality when exploring magic."
In the quiet wooden house, Dumbledore's words resonated with calm authority.
"I will remember your words," Ian replied, nodding earnestly.
"Relax a bit… perhaps you should go put on some clothes and pants first," Dumbledore suggested with a sudden smile. Only then did Ian realize he was standing there in just his underpants.
"It's fine, just letting it all hang out," He said, trying to play it cool despite the flush creeping up his face.
Dumbledore looked slightly puzzled upon hearing those words.
"Professor, did you come here specifically to see me?" Ian seized the opportunity to ask, curious about Dumbledore's presence in Hogsmeade.
"No," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head. He took a sip of the overly sweetened tea. "I simply came to deliver a notice and happened to witness the flames from your place on my way back."
"Actually, I've been observing you from a distance for a while. I must say…" A flicker of complexity crossed Dumbledore's eyes as he continued, "Your approach to understanding magic is quite different from most wizards."
He was clearly referring to Ian's research on magical power circuits, a topic many wizards never dared to explore deeply.
"Huh?" Ian feigned confusion, a hint of unease creeping in.
"Don't worry, it's not a bad thing. It's a kind of… talent possessed by few," Dumbledore assured him, his deep, thoughtful eyes peering over his glasses. "I heard you learned Snape's 'Sectumsempra'?"
Ian was taken aback and could only reply with. "Huh?"
He nodded slowly, realizing that although Snape had warned him to keep it a secret, concealing it from Dumbledore might be perceived as disrespectful to the master of Legilimency.
"It's not that I wanted to learn it. Professor Snape pressed my head and said if I didn't learn it, he would lock me up in some evil place," Ian explained, sticking to his policy of truthfulness while withholding certain details, vividly recounting Snape's coercion and his own helplessness.
However, Dumbledore seemed uninterested in the specifics. "How long did it take to learn?" he asked casually, sipping his tea.
"An hour?" Ian lied, knowing he had no choice. If he revealed the truth, the fact that he could instantly learn dark magic then it might lead to some serious misunderstandings.
"And it's mostly because Professor Snape taught so well!" He added quickly, trying to cover himself.
Dumbledore remained silent, stirring his tea with a conjured stick, not taking another sip.
"I think I understand…" Dumbledore said, turning to gaze at the stars outside the window. "You will achieve great things, child. Don't let this extraordinary talent of yours go to waste…"
Before he could finish, a series of subtle, strange ripples appeared in the air. Suddenly, a dazzling red light burst forth, and a magnificent Phoenix soared into the room, its feathers shimmering like radiant jewels in the dim light.
"Mr. Prince, it seems our tea party ends here tonight," Dumbledore said, setting down his cup and standing up, straightening his slightly wrinkled white robes.
He seemed to recall something before saying it. "A small piece of advice: the circuit of magical power isn't the direct cause of magic's birth. Perhaps you should shift your focus on your path to seeking magic."
"Shift my focus?" Ian pondered, deep in thought.
At that moment, Dumbledore raised his arm, waiting for the Phoenix to land. However, neither he nor Ian, lost in contemplation, expected the Phoenix to dive down from the ceiling after circling the room a few times, landing its two claws right on Ian's head.
(End of chapter)
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