In the extreme cold, the vast Black Lake had frozen into a solid sheet of ice, and in the dim light, the Forbidden Forest swayed in the biting wind, resembling a lake shimmering with ripples of light.

“Before last Easter, I remember you wrote to tell me that you were exploring the ruins of an ancient Greek wizard in Greece and sent me five pints of dragon blood and forty ounces of dragon liver,”

Amosta walked alongside Snape toward the castle standing on the cliff’s edge. As they passed three tall goalposts near the playground, while Amosta gazed toward Hagrid's hut where the fire flickered, Snape observed Amosta, whose features had deepened since his graduation three and a half years ago, his voice laden with ambiguous meaning,

“But shortly after, the Daily Prophet revealed an interesting piece of information. The Norwegian Ministry of Magic reported that someone had illegally entered their dragon sanctuary, stealing a precious Norwegian Ridgeback dragon egg and slaughtering a Norwegian Horned Snake in front of two Muggles who had wandered into the reserve. Amosta, I assume these two events are unrelated?”

“What do you think, my professor?”

Amosta withdrew his gaze and smiled as he looked at the only lit room in the tower among a row of dark rooms.

“Or should I say, what kind of response do you hope to receive from me?”

A smirk appeared at the corner of Snape's mouth, a habitual sneer, but he suddenly realized that the young man beside him was no longer the impoverished student who preferred to avoid deep connections with classmates and immerse himself in his own world. Instead, he had quickly grown into a wizard that even Snape found somewhat inscrutable.

“For me, it doesn’t matter, Amosta. I simply want to remind you,”

The warm meeting Dumbledore had anticipated did not occur between this teacher and student, as Snape strode forward into the castle with a frown.

“I hope you know what you are currently doing, and I hope you understand that this school is not as peaceful as it appears on the surface—especially in recent years, Amosta. If your preference for keeping a low profile hasn’t changed, then continue to do so, especially in front of Dumbledore.

Finally, my advice is to leave here as soon as possible, even leave the British wizarding world, and return only after everything has settled down… if your mind is still as sharp as it was back then, you should understand what I’m saying.”

…………

Perhaps it was a night too ordinary; the stone gargoyle at the office door showed its teeth in a subtle display of dissatisfaction as it stepped aside.

“Thank you for your reminder, professor.”

Snape had no intention of entering. As Amosta passed by him, he gave a soft smile.

“I have always known what I am doing and am very clear about the risks I will face.”

Inside the office, Dumbledore had managed to change into a clean, respectable wizarding robe. He had clearly sensed the visitor’s arrival in advance. As the wall closed, when Amosta stepped into the office, Dumbledore was already standing behind the desk, looking at the door with a warm smile.

“Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore!”

Although he had mentally prepared himself in advance, when that steady, bright, fire-lit gaze, filled with a century's worth of wisdom, fell upon him, Amosta Breen felt a tightness in his skin, and his heart unconsciously raced a bit faster.

Fawkes in the fire basin heard the somewhat familiar voice and was straining to stretch its neck out from a pile of ashes, curiously surveying the scene.

Thirty feet away, the tall, thin figure of the old man, cloaked in firelight, contained not just a vast magical power like a sea of clouds but also a legendary life experience that was a living history of modern European magic.

In front of such a person, it was hard to imagine how the first and second Dark Lords had endured for so long.

“Welcome, welcome~”

Dumbledore smiled brightly and extended his hand toward the approaching Amosta, his penetrating gaze sweeping over Amosta’s youthful face, lingering for only a brief moment on his light purple eyes before shifting to his snow-dusted gray hair.

“Good evening, Amosta. I apologize for making you travel in such terrible weather. As compensation, may I offer you a drink?”

“Thank you, that is exactly what I need.”

Amosta sat down at Dumbledore’s gesture, while Dumbledore walked over to a nearby bookshelf, opened a cabinet containing a Pensieve, and took out an aged bottle of liquor.

“For the sake of my health, I had to turn most of my collection over to Poppy, but this bottle… to be honest, Amosta, I haven’t shared it with anyone else yet!”

“Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey, priceless and over eighty years old,”

Amosta sniffed the aroma wafting in the air, smiling subtly. “Thank you for your generosity, Headmaster Dumbledore. Just for this, this trip is worth it—”

Time had bestowed a rich depth to this valuable liquor, and Amosta sipped it slowly, silently waiting for his stiff fingers to regain their flexibility.

Dumbledore was not in a hurry to start the next conversation; he quietly watched Amosta with a gentle gaze. Though he didn’t ask any questions, it seemed he had already obtained the information he wanted to know, and the result was satisfactory.

“Severus told me that for the past two years, you have been following in the footsteps of great predecessors, exploring the magical ruins lost in time.”

Seeing Amosta’s pale cheeks regain their color from the cold, Dumbledore smiled and said,

“I’m glad that after leaving this school, you still haven’t forgotten to delve into magic and improve yourself. This makes me feel that the educational philosophy I have upheld at this school has not been a complete failure.

At least Hogwarts’ education has allowed a very small number of people to recognize that, aside from the Ministry of Magic, there are many other good places in the magical world.”

Dumbledore did not mention the board’s appointments or any topics related to the Chamber of Secrets, which slightly surprised Amosta, who had prepared his remarks and plans.

“In my school days, young wizards didn’t rush to find a path for themselves after graduation; instead, they would go on a graduation trip to see the world. Before I graduated, I had planned to go to Greece with an old friend to seek out the magical creatures known from myths and visit alchemists in Egypt…

But unfortunately, some unforeseen events interrupted my plans, which have nearly left me with lifelong regrets.”

Dumbledore’s gaze fell into reminiscence as he sighed.

“Making such a choice may be related to my Muggle background,”

Amosta set down his glass, and although he smiled in agreement, confusion arose within him.

Before coming here, Amosta had thought many times about the conversations he would have with Dumbledore. In his conjecture, this inscrutable old man behind the desk might delve into his experiences over the past two years and would not be easily deceived by his simple words.

Perhaps he would be curious about his true purpose in wanting to return to school, just like Professor Snape.

Perhaps he would explore the identity of the perpetrator behind the Chamber of Secrets attack with him and question his proposed preventive measures.

But now it seemed that Dumbledore was not interested in any of that; he simply wanted to have a casual chat.

Could this be possible?

Amosta did not think Dumbledore was that simple; he remained cautious in his heart while appearing genuinely interested in the current topic,

“Children from wizarding families view the wonders of magic as commonplace, while someone like me, who grew up in the Muggle world, can better appreciate how precious it is that miracles can bloom from a simple wave of a wand. Compared to this, power and wealth seem so insignificant.”

“Do not be humble, Amosta. There are many children from Muggle families, but the ability to awe and tirelessly pursue knowledge is a gift unique to you,”

Amosta’s explanation hit the mark with Dumbledore, and the deep-set eyes behind the half-moon glasses shone with appreciation.

“The most important thing is that after so many experiences, you can still use phrases like ‘miracles blooming’ to describe magic, rather than ‘power’—”

Dumbledore blinked, sporting a playful smile,

“When you were still here as a student, Professor Snape privately expressed his concerns about your study of dark magic to me multiple times, which later led to our multiple ‘coincidences’ in the restricted section of the library late at night…”

Ahem!

Amosta, who was sipping his drink, choked on the strong liquor, wiping his crimson lips with an expression akin to embarrassment from having his childhood misdeeds revealed by a parent.

“It’s rare for a busy wizard like you to remember those little things, Headmaster Dumbledore. I am not obsessed with the powerful might of dark magic; I simply believe… whether it is dark magic or light magic, they are merely parts of magic, both worthy of study… I mean, worthy of emulation; blindly rejecting them only highlights our own ignorance.”

“Of course, of course, a very philosophical statement,”

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, but his expression soon became solemn,

“However, not everyone has a clear self-awareness and strong self-control, Amosta. Therefore, Professor Snape’s concerns about you back then were justified…”