Chương 281: Do You Know What Love Is?(2)
As they approached, Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a small stone flew through the air, hitting a specific spot on the Whomping Willow's trunk. Immediately, the tree's thrashing branches froze in place. "Come along, Blake," Dumbledore beckoned.
Despite knowing about the Shrieking Shack, Blake had never ventured there. Hesitant, he asked, "Professor, won't we be seen? It's broad daylight."
Dumbledore reassured him, "There's a distraction charm around the Willow. From a distance, no one will notice us. They'll subconsciously ignore what's happening here unless they're right on our heels."
Blake nodded, relieved. Normally, he would have activated his levitation cloak's invisibility, but Dumbledore's precautions were more than enough.
At the base of the Whomping Willow, Dumbledore opened a hidden panel, revealing a door beneath the tree's roots. Blake, though curious, tried not to question it too much, knowing the secrecy of the place. "What is this place?" he asked, despite himself.
With a nostalgic look, Dumbledore responded, "It was built for a special reason, long ago. It's unused now and known to very few, which makes it the perfect location for us."
Without further explanation, they descended through the passage. Blake found the tunnel wide enough to walk comfortably, but Dumbledore had to duck slightly as they made their way to the end, where a decrepit wooden door awaited. It had clearly been untouched for years, its surface rotting.
Dumbledore waved his wand, murmuring, "Back to the original," and the door was restored, fresh and clean as though newly crafted. The air around them smelled of freshly-cut wood.
Inside, Blake noticed a small room with worn-out furniture and a bed against one wall. The wooden floor creaked under Dumbledore's steps. However, with another graceful movement of the Elder Wand, the room seemed to reverse time. Dust vanished, furniture was restored, and even the warped floorboards straightened. Within minutes, the entire room looked pristine.
"Come in, Blake," Dumbledore called, signaling that everything was ready.
Blake stepped inside, taking in the newly polished space. It was remarkable how the room had transformed—it looked like it had just been renovated. A large portion of the floor had been expanded with an unmarked stretching charm, creating space for what Blake could only assume would be some kind of training.
"I assume we're not just here for Occlumency?" Blake asked, sensing there was more to this lesson.
Dumbledore smiled, settling into an armchair. "Indeed, Occlumency is something you've already shown significant progress in. You will continue to refine it, of course, but I've brought you here to teach you other forms of magic."
Blake hesitated. "Other forms?" he repeated, his mind racing. If Dumbledore intended to teach him something beyond Occlumency, did that mean... dark magic?
The very thought seemed out of place. Dumbledore, the epitome of a white wizard, surely wouldn't teach him dark arts. It felt contradictory, almost absurd.
Seeing Blake's confusion, Dumbledore sighed. "I understand your hesitation, Blake. I truly wish you didn't have to be exposed to black magic. However, in the world we live in, it's better that I teach you, rather than allow you to learn it from someone with... questionable intentions. It's not about using black magic—it's about understanding and defending against it."
Blake's expression remained skeptical, but he didn't argue. Dumbledore, sensing the tension, continued, "Dark magic is dangerous, yes, but it's also like a double-edged sword. It can harm others, but it can also harm the one who wields it. The Cruciatus Curse, for instance, feeds off the caster's desire to inflict pain. Similarly, the Killing Curse requires genuine hatred to work."
Dumbledore leaned forward, his expression grave. "These emotions are toxic, Blake. They twist the mind, and over time, they can alter a person's very nature. That is the true danger of dark magic—the way it corrupts the caster."
Blake nodded slowly, though doubt still lingered. "But if these emotions are part of black magic, isn't it impossible to avoid them?"
A small smile appeared on Dumbledore's face. "It's not impossible, Blake. There are ways to neutralize those emotions while still wielding the power of the spells. But remember, black magic is not just dangerous because of its emotional toll. It causes unspeakable harm to others, pain that often cannot be undone. That's why you must learn to wield it with the utmost caution."
Blake's eyes widened slightly. "You mean... you can teach me to control these emotions and still use the magic?"
"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "But know this—just because you understand it doesn't mean you should use it lightly. Black magic should be a last resort, if at all. You never know who might be hurt in the process, perhaps even someone you care about deeply."
Blake saw a flash of pain in Dumbledore's eyes as he spoke, and he immediately realized who Dumbledore was thinking of: his sister, Ariana. The weight of that history hung heavily in the air.
"So," Dumbledore said after a pause, "when I teach you about black magic, we will focus on two things: first, how to avoid harming yourself in the process, and second, how to recognize when—if ever—it is appropriate to use it."
Blake took in the gravity of Dumbledore's words and nodded. "I understand, Professor."
Dumbledore took a sip of his juice, then continued, "Magic, whether dark or otherwise, is influenced heavily by one's emotions. You already know that hatred fuels black magic, but it's not the only emotion that can affect spells."
Blake thought for a moment, then answered, "Emotion?"
A pleased expression appeared on Dumbledore's face. "Exactly. Emotions drive magic, far more than the words or gestures behind a spell. For a wizard capable of wandless and silent casting, it's the emotional intent that matters most."
He paused, allowing Blake to absorb this. "Hatred is the most common emotion in dark magic, but it's not the only one. And it certainly isn't the most powerful."
Blake tilted his head, puzzled. "Are you saying we should replace hatred with other emotions?"
Dumbledore smiled warmly. "In a sense, yes. But it's more than just substitution."
He leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with a wisdom that only decades of experience could grant. "Blake, do you know what the most powerful emotion is?"
Blake thought hard but remained silent. He had a feeling Dumbledore already knew the answer.
Dumbledore's smile deepened. "It's love, Blake. And that... is what I intend to teach you next."
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