Chapitre 48: Hogwarts, Please Graduate Soon, Ch 48
The current master of the office has arrived, and the portraits of past principals seem to pick up the pace. One of them delivers a sharp blow to Phineas, who promptly returns to his frame and pretends to be dead.
As for Phineas, he likely feels embarrassed and has vanished from the frame, probably hiding over at the Black family mansion.
"Please have a seat, Mr. Lawrence," Dumbledore gestured for Wayne to sit opposite him. "Would you like something to drink? How about black tea, green tea, or hot cocoa?"
Wayne didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Just black tea is fine."
Dumbledore nodded in agreement, his face lighting up with joy. "I also enjoy black tea. Just the other day, Bashida gifted me some Ceylon black tea. Unfortunately, Minerva and Filius prefer lemon tea, so I haven't shared it with anyone yet."
With a gentle tap of his wand on the table, a beautifully designed teapot and teacups appeared on the surface.
The teapot floated up lightly, automatically pouring tea for the two.
"And how about dessert? I recommend you try the Cockroach Cluster," Dumbledore said, as a silver serving platter floated into view. Wayne's expression changed.
The platter was filled entirely with Cockroach Clusters, moving around like Chocolate Frogs.
Dumbledore picked one up and enjoyed it, squinting his eyes in delight.
Of course, it was filled with gooey filling.
Wayne's face turned pale. "Professor, do you have any sandwiches or macarons?"
"Of course."
Though it was unfortunate that Wayne had no intention of eating the Cockroach Clusters, Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a few sandwiches and colorful macarons.
"I don't think the appearance of dessert matters much; it's really about the sugar content," Dumbledore winked. "Are you sure you don't want to try some?"
Wayne didn't respond. "Actually, according to studies by Muggle scientists, appealing food does increase people's appetite."
"Professor, would you prefer to eat chocolate shaped like feces or feces shaped like chocolate?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment. "Is it possible to not eat either?"
He had to admit that both options Wayne proposed were quite disgusting.
"Of course." Now it was Wayne's turn to smile.
"You truly are the BOSS."
Dumbledore chuckled as well; it was a refreshing feeling to have a student joke with him.
He could feel that Wayne was genuinely relaxed, treating him like an ordinary old man.
Taking a sip of the Ceylon black tea, Wayne enjoyed the floral aroma.
Compared to traditional Eastern black tea, Ceylon tea was darker and more fragrant, but it lacked the mellow sweetness and the unique fresh scent of tea leaves.
Each had its merits, depending on personal taste.
Just as Dumbledore had said earlier in the morning, the conversation between him and Wayne mostly revolved around the Phoenix.
Aside from inquiring how Wayne encountered the Phoenix at the beginning, the rest was Dumbledore sharing some care tips for the creature.
Wayne patiently took notes.
Thanks to some local adaptation, the Phoenix had acquired some abilities of the Phoenix from this world.
For example, Apparition, and its tears could heal wounds.
In terms of taste and habits, there were many similarities.
Wayne took the opportunity to propose his request to raise the Phoenix in the Forbidden Forest.
Dumbledore readily agreed. "You're not like this old man who has nothing to do and loads of time to play with pets; letting it roam free is a fine option."
What do you mean by doing nothing?
Wayne internally scoffed.
You old busybee; you must be putting most of your energy into the Mirror of Erised and Harry.
After discussing the Phoenix, old Dumbledore started talking about wool socks.
"When it comes to foot protection, I don't think anything is more considerate than wool socks."
"There was a time when I scoffed at them; now I can't do without them."
Dumbledore blinked with the mischievousness of a child.
"I think no old man would refuse to receive a pair of wool socks as a Christmas gift."
"But unfortunately, it seems everyone believes I prefer books."
Hey, is the Ministry of Magic listening?
There's someone here trying to bribe a young wizard; aren't you going to do anything about it?
Wayne joked, assuring that he would make old Dumbledore happy this Christmas.
But he knew that Dumbledore didn't really care for the wool socks; he valued the sentiment behind them.
In England, wool socks symbolize family affection.
Dumbledore is indeed the greatest white wizard of the century, yet even his immense magical powers couldn't undo the mistakes of his youth.
That pain, along with the one imprisoned in Nurmengard, gnawed at him relentlessly.
As the clock approached five, Wayne prepared to stand and bid farewell, ready to return to the Great Hall for something more filling.
"One moment, Mr. Lawrence," Dumbledore said, pulling out a piece of parchment, neatly filled with elegant writing, which he then handed to Wayne.
When Wayne took a look, he realized it was a pass for the Restricted Section.
Generally, passes for the Restricted Section would specify particular books.
But the one Dumbledore had given him had no limitations on which books could be borrowed, valid until before Christmas.
"You're still young and need to ensure you get enough sleep; nighttime adventures should be moderated," Dumbledore smiled. "This is my reward for your mercy towards the three-headed dog."
"Thank you, Professor." Wayne didn't show any embarrassment about potentially breaking school rules. "I actually think going there at night isn't ideal; it's so dark in the Restricted Section that I'm bound to strain my eyes."
Dumbledore's smile faltered.
This young wizard just doesn't play by the rules.
When others get caught, they often look flustered; yet Wayne seems as if he isn't the one at fault.
….
After Wayne left, the Headmaster's office fell quiet once more.
However, this peace only lasted a short while as the portraits of past principals became lively again.
Big-nosed Fawcett chuckled gleefully, "That little guy is so interesting; he's nothing like a Hufflepuff at all."
"He should be sorted into Gryffindor!"
Headmistress Deloris retorted, "Why not Ravenclaw? This kid must have realized his actions wouldn't slip past the Headmaster."
"Such keen insight; who else but the eagle of Ravenclaw could possess that?"
"How can you speak like that?" The Hufflepuff-born Headmaster Rostert angrily tossed an apple at Fawcett's portrait. "We Hufflepuffs can also nurture talented individuals!"
Amidst the quarrel among the principals, Dumbledore chose not to participate.
He gazed at the untouched velvet fabric, unable to suppress a smile.
"I didn't expect… that even a child could be more insightful than this..."
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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