Dawn asked directly, “Headmaster, do you believe the records in these three manuscripts are real?”

“I don’t know.”

Dumbledore frowned as he looked over the contents of the book.

“My boy, I can’t make a judgment on something I know nothing about… but if you truly want my opinion, then my answer is: no, they aren’t real.”

Dawn was a little surprised. “Not real?”

“That’s right.”

Dumbledore fixed his gaze on him. “Dawn, why do you believe they’re real? Is it merely because they were compiled into a book?”

The old headmaster gave a slight shake of his head.

“You must understand, before the Ministry of Magic was established, all books were privately published. Their content was never reviewed or verified. We shouldn’t place too much faith in their accuracy.”

“In fact, there were many people who forged manuscripts just to present themselves as powerful wizards.”

As he spoke, he pointed to the page.

“In my opinion, the only manuscript in this book with any credibility is the first one. The second has an interesting theory, but the final result is unreliable due to the lack of witnesses.”

“As for the third… Dawn, even the person who compiled this book listed reasons for its unreliability, didn’t he?”

That was Dumbledore’s honest view.

Dawn propped his chin on his hand, lightly biting the soft flesh at the corner of his mouth.

Deep down, he mostly agreed with Dumbledore’s perspective. And yet, there was still a nagging instinct inside him that something didn’t quite add up.

He hesitated, then asked,

“Based on your understanding of magic, do you think it’s possible to transform into a magical creature through Transfiguration?”

“I don’t believe it is.”

Dumbledore gave a blunt answer that caught Dawn completely off guard.

“…Why not?” Dawn asked, taken aback.

Dumbledore didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he looked at the student who had suddenly become so interested in the idea of transforming into magical creatures and asked in return, “Dawn, what do you believe are the boundaries of magic?”

“A wizard’s imagination!”

The resolute tone made Dumbledore smile faintly. “A wizard’s imagination? In a way, yes.”

“But, Dawn, magic does not reach the limits of imagination. It can’t make us do anything we wish.”

The headmaster’s voice was gentle.

His blue eyes reflected the drifting embers of light, giving them a distant and profound look.

“If there truly is something that can do anything… then it would be a miracle, not magic.”

“There are many things that magic simply cannot achieve.”

Dumbledore interlaced his fingers and tapped them lightly on the desk.

“Such as bringing back the dead…”

“Or rewriting the past…”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“Take the Time-Turner, for example. It appears to reverse time and do the impossible, but it still operates under certain laws. What has happened cannot be changed.”

“No matter how hard you try, no matter what you do, in the end, you’ll only become part of the events that already happened.”

Dumbledore’s words carried a quiet warning, hoping to quench Dawn’s curiosity about transforming into magical creatures.

He knew all too well the terrible destruction that could follow when a brilliant but obsessive mind stepped into forbidden territory.

Just like Tom, who, after delving into the secrets of death, became something neither man nor ghost.

Destroying himself—and others—in the process.

…..

Dawn half-closed his eyes, saying nothing.

The shadows cast by the bookshelves danced across his cheeks, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath and the fluttering lights.

After a long silence, he slowly asked, “Headmaster, are you trying to tell me…”

“That a wizard becoming a magical creature is like time being unchangeable—an unbreakable law of the world?”

Dumbledore looked him in the eye. “Yes.”

As he spoke, he took a gnarled wand from within his robes and placed it on the table.

“This is the Elder Wand, one of the Deathly Hallows.”

He didn’t conceal the truth.

“To be honest, in terms of magical skill, I dare say I’m not far behind the legendary wizards of history.”

“But even now, with the Elder Wand in hand, I still can’t manage even a momentary transformation into a magical creature.”

“Even Merlin himself, as the stories tell it, could only take the forms of various ordinary animals.”

Dumbledore asked solemnly,

“So, do you understand now, Dawn? Some things should be treated as just stories!”

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly interested in books like these, but—never! Never! Attempt anything recklessly!”

The headmaster gave a heartfelt warning.

He didn’t want to see another student one day die—or kill—because of some dangerous experiment.

But Dawn remained silent.

His crimson pupils gleamed under the light, as clear and penetrating as a crystal.

In truth…

Dumbledore was right. Magic was indeed not omnipotent. It could dazzle and inspire, but it was always bound by unseen chains.

Like the principles of Transfiguration outlined by Gamp.

Like the irreversible nature of death.

Like the paradoxes of time travel.

….

The original stories made this abundantly clear.

Thinking it through carefully—

Dawn’s confidence had no real foundation.

Just because he had gained a unique power from a magical outburst—was that really enough to surpass all the famed wizards of history?

Like Dumbledore said, some things were beyond even Merlin’s reach.

So…

Was he wrong all along?

“Hahaha—”

Suddenly!

Out of nowhere, Dawn let out a laugh.

He looked at Dumbledore’s serious face, as if something had just clicked in his mind. The corners of his lips curled up, and he chuckled under his breath.

Then he laughed louder and louder!

“Headmaster!”

Dawn was laughing so hard he nearly collapsed onto the table. “I understand now… I finally understand! I understand what sets me apart from all of you!”

His crimson eyes grew brighter, as if something was stirring within them—something even Occlumency couldn’t conceal.

“I was too arrogant, Headmaster … You’re right, I really was too arrogant!”

“That’s why I believe more than you do! That’s why I believe more than anyone! I know I can solve everything!”

Dumbledore frowned. “Child, that is not necessarily a good thing.”

“No! It is a good thing!”

Dawn laughed even more freely. “I’ve never set limits on magic! I’ve never thought about what can or can’t be done!”

“Because in my arrogance, I believed that magic could solve everything!”

“Headmaster, magic responds to us!”

“What you see as rules and boundaries… in the end, they’re just fences built within your own heart.”

Dawn laughed loudly, pointing first at Dumbledore, then at his own chest.

“Headmaster, you’ve helped me understand something! For a wizard, the most important thing is that arrogant belief that everything is within their grasp!”

“If a wizard loses that arrogance, it means they’ve lost their future!”

Dawn’s voice rang out with conviction!

But the library suddenly fell silent.

Dumbledore was at a loss for words.

He looked at the boy before him, and a faint bitterness appeared beneath his beard.

What more could he say?

Faced with a wizard so firm in his beliefs, with a logic all his own, it seemed all of Dumbledore’s experience and teachings were powerless.

Once again, Dumbledore deeply felt that he had failed in the realm of education.

“Dawn.”

There was a trace of helplessness in Dumbledore’s voice.

“If you truly intend to explore magical creature transfiguration, then I have only one condition… all your experiments must be conducted under my supervision!”

Given how things had progressed, Dawn actually had the mood to joke. “Is that a request?”

“Yes… I wish I could say so.”

Dumbledore sighed. “But I’m sorry. On this point, I insist.”

Dawn wasn’t irritated by the demand. He simply spread his hands. “Of course, you’re the Headmaster after all.”

The library fell quiet again.

A moment later.

Dawn stood up. “Well then, if there’s nothing else, Professor, I’ll take my leave.”

Dumbledore smiled helplessly. “Sweet dreams.”

But just before he could leave…

“Oh, and Dawn!”

Dumbledore suddenly called out again.

“I trust your self-control, and I won’t restrict your access to the Restricted Section.”

“But promise me, when it comes to dark magic books—only one per week, alright?”

Dawn looked slightly surprised. He hadn’t expected Dumbledore to still allow him access to the Restricted Section.

After a brief pause, he nodded. “Of course. I have no objections.”

Dumbledore gave a small nod, then suddenly slapped his forehead. “Ah, one more thing.”

“If you’re planning any late-night strolls lately, you’d best avoid getting caught by Severus… that’s Professor Snape, mind you.”

The old Headmaster composed himself and, preparing to consult with the portraits of past headmasters about educational strategies, looked back at Dawn with feigned grievance.

“After your last Potions class, Severus stormed into my office and nearly pulled my beard out, ranting about how senile I’ve become… I’d rather not go through that again.”

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