“If we’re speaking in a general sense, I wouldn’t call my youth a happy one.”

“In 1881, my father used magic in public to protect my sister from Muggles. Because of that, he was imprisoned in Azkaban.”

“Afterward, my mother took my siblings and me into hiding.”

Dumbledore’s voice was soft.

“But my father’s sacrifice didn’t save my sister’s life.”

“Because she was constantly hurt by Muggle children, my sister suppressed her magic. In the end, she lost control. She became an Obscurial.”

Dumbledore’s hands trembled slightly as he held his teacup. “Dawn, you’ve heard of Obscurials, haven’t you?”

Dawn nodded. “A parasitic entity formed inside young wizards when they suppress their magic. It grants incredible power, but at a heavy cost—it’s unstable and the host rarely lives long.”

“Exactly. Seems Professor McGonagall was right. You’ve clearly read a lot.” Dumbledore forced a small smile.

He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the darkened patches on the ceiling. Behind the crescent moon-shaped glasses, his eyes were hazy.

“In the summer of 1899, my mother died. It was due to one of my sister’s outbursts. I gave up my dream of traveling the world and returned home to care for my siblings.”

“And that was the year I met Gellert Grindelwald, who had just been expelled from Durmstrang.”

Dumbledore’s voice dropped lower, as if filled with remembrance.

“He was a very gifted young man. We got along well. We studied magic together, talked about everything, and in the end, even made a pact never to harm one another.”

“Then one day, he told me, for the greater good, we should break the Statute of Secrecy and build a new order—one where wizards ruled over Muggles!”

“I hesitated for a long time, but in the end, I agreed.”

“Because of what happened to my sister, I always ‘hoped’ that one day, wizards could walk freely among Muggles.”

Dumbledore struggled to maintain a calm tone, but he was laying bare the wounds of his past.

Just as he had said earlier.

To this day, he still wasn’t sure how to handle the gifted young witches and wizards under his care. All he could do was use his own experiences in the hope of offering these students a glimpse of what was right.

“Then, because of a terrible accident, my sister died—caught in a fight between myself, Grindelwald, and my brother.”

“It was at that moment I understood the dangers of desire, and I chose to part ways with Grindelwald.”

“So you see, Dawn…”

Dumbledore looked seriously at the boy before him.

“Whether it’s ‘hope,’ or ‘want,’ or even ‘should’ and ‘will’—If you become too fixated on an idea, it can blind your heart and lead you to an irreparable end.”

Upon hearing this, Dawn finally understood what Dumbledore had been circling around all this time.

“You think I’m too obsessed?”

But Dumbledore didn’t answer directly. He simply looked at him and said, “Dawn, go make a friend.”

“…Make a friend?”

Dawn was caught off guard by the abrupt shift in topic.

He felt a bit speechless. For some reason, it reminded him of something a teacher had once told him back in kindergarten.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course!”

Dumbledore composed himself and gave him a wink, “I’ll take care of the Malfoy family and the board… Just do this one thing for an old man like me. Go make a friend!”

Dawn absentmindedly brought the teacup to his lips, only to realize it was empty.

He set it down with a sigh. “But what’s the point, Headmaster?”

“The point…?” Dumbledore chuckled.

He tapped the table with his finger. Steam rose from the cup as it refilled itself with hot tea, “It’s because I see in you an arrogance equal to—no, greater than—my own, and even more than Tom’s.”

The old headmaster looked at him and sighed, “Back when Tom—later known as Voldemort—was studying here, he was polite, courteous, a model student.”

“And I worried.”

“Because now we know, that wasn’t his true nature. It was a meticulous disguise to mask his cruelty.”

“But you, Dawn?” Dumbledore spoke softly. “You don’t disguise yourself, or at least, not too much.”

“But do you realize? That actually worries me even more.”

“Child, you are too arrogant!”

“You even consider pretending to be obedient as something beneath you, completely disregarding how others might perceive your true self.”

“And even when you hold back, it’s just enough to stay above my bottom line.”

“Yes, I can feel it… Tom feared me. But in your heart, I may be just another wizard, someone who’s only temporarily stronger than you.”

“Maybe you don’t want to provoke me, but that caution is outweighed by your deep-rooted pride.”

“That’s why, even though you knew taking the Marauder’s Map and burning your classmates’ clothes would make me uneasy, you didn’t hesitate.”

“Simply because you wanted to! You desired it!”

Dumbledore stared into his red eyes, now increasingly hollow and vacant after the boy used Occlumency.

“Child, you don’t yet realize the danger you’re in….. When you lose reverence for the world, when you lose your own anchor, you become a slave to desire—and that leads to self-destruction.”

“Just like Tom, who now lingers between life and death!”

Dumbledore paused and once again repeated an old truth.

“Emotion is the last signpost before we fall into madness. And love—it is the anchor that keeps us from being swallowed by the sea of desire as we navigate this world.”

“So, Dawn, go make a friend!”

The headmaster spoke with sincere conviction. Dawn slowly turned his teacup. “Will making a friend teach me what love is?”

Dumbledore nodded. “At the very least, it’s a good place to start.”

Dawn fell silent.

He thought to himself, fine—let Dumbledore finish talking so he could return to his dorm and get some rest. After all, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Voldemort first thing in the morning.

But…

Once he realized that everything Dumbledore had said was just to make him understand the importance of love…

Dawn suddenly felt the urge to speak his mind.

Perhaps it was because he never truly saw Dumbledore as an absolute authority. Perhaps it was his pride, refusing to accept ideas imposed upon him.

Or maybe it was simply that, knowing Dumbledore understood him, he no longer felt the need to hide.

“Professor, have you ever read Muggle literature? The Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez once wrote in [Love in the Time of Cholera]—”

Dawn looked at the old headmaster and said quietly, “Love is a primal instinct. You’re either born with it, or you never will be.”

“I don’t agree with that.”

Dumbledore’s expression grew serious. “Love is a choice. It’s not something we are born with. It’s something we learn to express through our experiences.”

“Maybe so.”

Dawn spread his hands. “But you see, the world always has different views on the same thing. Who’s to say which path is truly right?”

“Headmaster, since you brought up the First Wizarding War… have you ever considered what might’ve happened if you had chosen a different path?”

Dawn looked Dumbledore in the eyes, “What if you hadn’t parted ways with Grindelwald, and instead stood your ground against the Statute of Secrecy to the very end? What would’ve happened then?”

“A lot of people would’ve died, child,” Dumbledore said solemnly. “Muggles. Wizards. All the same.”

“Yes, exactly.” Dawn suddenly smiled. “But Professor… do you really believe you saved everyone?”

He drained his tea once again, but this time, he flipped the cup upside down on the table.

“Take a look at how fast the Muggle world is developing. In less than thirty years, they’ll be able to monitor every inch of land.”

“When that day comes, and they realize there are people out there who can erase memories and wield superhuman powers—what do you think they’ll do? You and I both know the answer.”

Dawn spoke with certainty. “There will always be a war between humans and wizards. It’s only a matter of time.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “You’re far too pessimistic, child. Magic…”

“Yes! I know!” Dawn interrupted him for the first time. “I know magic is wonderful!”

“Like the Muggle-Repelling Charm. Just a simple spell and they can’t even find us anymore.”

“I even know where we should be directing our efforts. For instance, developing the Undetectable Extension Charm. It could help us create a paradise meant solely for wizards.”

“I know that magic doesn’t fall behind technology. In fact, it’s more convenient and progresses faster.”

“But the real question is—who’s going to do it?”

Dawn popped a sugar cube into his mouth. “Magic may surpass technology. But can wizards surpass Muggles?”

“Has the wizarding world progressed at all compared to a century ago? Any new spells invented? Any groundbreaking magical theories introduced?”

“Nothing!”

Dawn spread his arms. “All I see is the Minister of Magic fighting for power, clinging to their seat. I see wizards forgetting what they learned the moment they graduate.”

“So tell me, if war really does break out one day—can the wizards truly win?”

He rested his elbows on the table.

“Like you said, during the witch hunts a thousand years ago—Slytherin’s decision was the more correct one. But now, a thousand years later, what do people think of Slytherin? All negative.”

“Just like you, Headmaster. In 1945, you defeated Grindelwald’s ambition to rule the world and earned the praise of all.”

“But twenty years from now? Fifty? A hundred?”

“When stagnant wizards are defeated by Muggles they once looked down upon, with all their modern weapons—will they look back and mourn Grindelwald’s failed moment?”

Facing Dumbledore’s silence, Dawn said seriously, “So, Professor, you won’t always be right.”

Dumbledore remained speechless for a long time.

He looked at the clever boy before him and finally asked with difficulty, “…So, you want to change the wizarding world?”

“No. I don’t want to change anything. Not for anyone.”

Dawn bit down on the candy slowly with the side of his teeth, “I just wanted to tell you—love may be a powerful magic. After all, it did let Harry Potter survive the Killing Curse.”

“But love is not a universal answer to all problems.”

“Because love is filled with conflict. One man’s hero is another man’s villain. Wanting everything only leads to losing it all. Just like you during the First Wizarding War—losing both friends and family.”

Dawn stood up. “Professor, I don’t know what kind of love you want me to understand. But I’ve always known what it is that I truly want.”

“You think I’m too obsessed now. But when I reach the end… perhaps I’ll be closer to the truth than anyone.”

He gave a slight nod and turned to leave.

But just before he stepped out the classroom door, Dawn paused.

“By the way, I’ll go make a friend… consider it a thank-you for dealing with my trouble.”

“…I see,” Dumbledore replied, weariness clouding his eyes with a complex emotion.

Footsteps faded down the corridor.

The old headmaster sighed, gazing at the silver moonlight pouring in, his mind heavy with thought.

Did tonight’s conversation achieve its purpose?

He didn’t know.

The dishes on the table vanished one by one. The chairs and tables dissolved back into scattered debris.

Dumbledore let out another long sigh.

For now, he pushed the conversation from his mind.

He glanced at the Mirror of Erised standing at the center of the classroom, then at the quiet cabinet in the back. After a moment of thought, he decided not to remove the mirror.

If possible, he still hoped that Harry would one day step out of the mirror’s illusions through his own willpower.

After all…

The making of a savior—that was still his most pressing responsibility.

……

As everything settled down…

The classroom once again sank into dead silence.

Much later—

A cabinet by the wall slowly creaked open, and three trembling young wizards crawled out.

“Merlin’s beard! Did we really just hear all of that tonight?!”

Ron stared at the door, muttering to himself. “I really hope we don’t get expelled for this… no! If anyone finds out, Dumbledore might actually kill us!”

“Idiot!” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“You think we can hide from the Headmaster? He’s the greatest wizard alive. Of course he knew we were there!”

“He knew?!” Ron shrieked, clutching at his hair in disbelief.

But once the fear started to fade, excitement began to take over.

“Blimey, I bet George and Fred would die of envy! We just overheard Dumbledore’s talk with two Dark Lords!”

Hermione groaned. “Is that all you care about?”

“What else is there?” Ron asked, baffled.

“Forget it!” Hermione gave up.

Harry had remained silent the entire time. The image in the Mirror of Erised, along with the mention of Voldemort and his mother’s death, had left him deeply shaken.

The trio didn’t linger. After cautiously checking the hallway, they tiptoed their way toward Gryffindor Tower.

As they passed the Trophy Room—

Hermione suddenly whispered, “Do you think Dawn made sense?”

“Dawn? You mean that new kid from Ravenclaw?” Ron looked scandalized. “Merlin’s pants, you actually believe a Dark wizard’s words?”

“Dark wizard?”

“Of course! Didn’t you hear what Dumbledore said about him? Arrogant, reckless! Isn’t that exactly what a Dark wizard is?”

Ron sounded confident.

“And anyway, the Headmaster’s point about the four houses—that was clearly to remind us that Dark wizards don’t only come from Slytherin!”

He shivered. “That guy is terrifying!”

Hermione was at a loss for words. She didn’t even bother replying to the redhead.

Her mind was a tangled mess. Thoughts of Dawn, of Dumbledore, of Muggles and wizards, of the four houses, of love and friendship…

The clever witch suddenly grabbed her head in frustration.

She knew one thing for certain—she wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

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