Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 49: Chapter 49: Love Is the Greatest Magic

”Wait a minute, Severus.”

Just as Snape was about to turn and leave, Dumbledore stopped him and frankly asked, ”What is this?”

He raised the parchment in his hand.

Snape was momentarily stunned, then his expression turned somewhat peculiar.

”You don’t know?”

”Obviously—not as all-knowing as people claim. In fact, I often feel I know too little.”

Snape looked up and down at Dumbledore, as if watching a troll tiptoe in ballet. The corner of his mouth curved up, half mocking, half gloating:

”It’s really strange—someone actually gave me a Christmas gift but not the great Dumbledore?”

Snape’s sarcastic tone didn’t make Dumbledore change color; the old headmaster merely drew out his wand and waved it at the room full of gift boxes, and the Potions professor couldn’t help but take a glance.

The gift boxes swayed slightly, then came to a stop.

Dumbledore sighed regretfully and said, ”It seems there really isn’t any.”

”Oh,” Snape replied dryly.

He had seen it already—the room was stacked full of gifts, nearly reaching the ceiling. Thinking of the sparse few gift boxes in his own bedroom, Snape suddenly lost the interest to ridicule.

Actually, he didn’t care about the number of gifts—not wanting to see the face of unintentional showing off in others—

With a snap of his fingers, Snape shot a note like a bullet toward Dumbledore.

”This is the instruction manual.”

As Dumbledore caught the note, Snape had already turned and left with big strides. The white-bearded headmaster pushed his glasses up, then looked down, quickly figuring out how to use it.

”Oh—a Muggle telephone replacement invention? An interesting idea—”

He recited a spell, examining the parchment—or rather, the magic on the Friendship Book.

”Clever concept, a genius-like combination... It seems Mr. Gray is starting to show results in his study of alchemy—and is quite talented—no wonder Morry is so proud—”

Remembering that he was the only one who hadn’t received a gift, Dumbledore thought back to the children’s expressions that day, vaguely understanding something.

”So that’s it... A smart and sensitive child... is it? Unlike Harry, this child probably doesn’t like being guided—”

He seemed to be talking to himself, but soon, an old, slight voice sounded in the room.

”Relf has rarely seen such an eleven-year-old child,” the voice said. ”A bit like a young Albus Dumbledore; and also like a young Tom Riddle—intelligent, insightful, different.”

Dumbledore looked down and humbly said, ”Oh, you’ve overestimated me. At eleven, my knowledge of alchemy was as much as any ordinary child.”

At his gaze’s resting point, standing in front of the fireplace, was a very old House-Elf. His skin was wrinkled, wrapped in a Hogwarts-crest tea towel, with fluffy white hair growing in his ears. He was so thin he looked like he could easily be broken, yet his big green eyes were very clear.

With a whisper-like voice, he said, ”Albus Dumbledore is indeed arrogant. Saying that is essentially admitting he’s different and believes he should know everything.”

”Don’t be so straightforward, dear Relf,” Dumbledore said helplessly. ”You see me too clearly, often making me feel embarrassed.”

He wiped his glasses, sat at the table, and softly requested, ”Could you help organize these gifts for me? I need to write something.”

”Relf is happy to serve, master.”

The House-Elf bowed, stepped back a few steps, and extended his long fingers.

The room full of gift boxes unwrapped themselves, books swiftly scrambled into bookshelves neat and orderly, clean food hopped into the cupboards, with a ”snap” of the cabinet door closing. Various greeting cards and letters dropped into a few boxes, neatly stacked on the table, waiting for Dumbledore to peruse later. Other items were placed in various corners of the room in sequence.

The problematic gifts gathered into a pile, mercilessly crushed and pulverized by magic power.

Not long after, Relf disappeared from the room with this ”garbage” and packaging paper.

On the table, only two or three gift boxes remained unopened—those were ones only Dumbledore could personally unseal.

While the Elf was busy, Dumbledore was writing his name on every Friendship Book—[Albus Dumbledore].

The professors who stayed at school during the Christmas holidays all had no families, possibly not even relatives, and they all chose to give one of their Friendship Books, which could be used for one-on-one contact only, to Dumbledore.

So, the Dumbledore who didn’t receive any gifts for Christmas still ended up with a Friendship Book thicker than anyone else’s this morning.

After putting away the Friendship Book, Dumbledore sat at the desk for a long time, the light and shadow of the years passing before his eyes, rippling through the depths of those blue eyes.

Does he resemble? Of course, he does.

Upon careful recollection, Vid Gray in the crowd that day looked at him with eyes so much like his younger self.

But Dumbledore also would not forget how he made a mess of his own life.

After reflecting for a long time, he carefully picked up a pen and began to write a letter—

[Dear Morry:

I have received the gift brought by your owl, I must say, very clever—even great. It’s hard to imagine this is the work of an eleven-year-old child... Of course, in some respects, its composition is actually quite simple. But precisely because of its simplicity, it’s all the more remarkable, and I think you surely understand what I mean... I can almost see the earth-shaking changes it will bring to the Wizarding World in the future...

Honestly, this makes me both excited and afraid—for such a brilliantly talented child, what kind of education should we give him?

The last time I encountered such a dauntingly brilliant student was fifty years ago... You should still remember that student—Tom Riddle... I wouldn’t be so arrogant as to think my personal attitude decided Voldemort’s life. But I must also acknowledge that my education of him was undoubtedly a failure...

Gifted precocity, emotions restrained by thought, and isolated by one’s own wisdom... Even while standing among countless people, he feels lonely because his mind and acuity make it easier for him to see the selfishness, greed, ugly desires, and obsessive arrogance in human nature... He will keep a certain distance from others, using humor, kindness, or politeness to disguise his inner disappointment and indifference towards humanity... He will be more prone to losing his way than those clumsy children...

You know I’m not just speaking of Tom Riddle, nor merely Vid Gray.

Thus, regarding your student Vid, I have some perhaps immature suggestions...

Dear friend, we adults, when faced with children much younger than ourselves, often become unconsciously arrogant due to our greater knowledge and experience... Looking down on those children with a superior attitude, like a monarch with absolute power, instilling the information we want them to know, guarding the information we think they should not know, manipulating them with words, guiding them towards our desired direction...

How arrogant that is!

And even more dangerously, we often fail to realize this arrogance.

Because we believe, naively, that we are making the right decisions to help them become ”better people”...

I cannot claim this is absolutely wrong, as children’s minds are often immature, their words and actions lacking restraint, and without proper guidance, they could easily take the wrong path, causing harm to themselves and others... But for a student like Vid Gray, conventional education might only have the opposite effect...

If anything, what I have learned from my years of educational failures is this—love is the most difficult, yet powerful magic in this world. It’s mysterious and unfathomable, hard to grasp, yet can change everything, determine everything...]