"Riddle." Dumbledore stopped and said, "I trust you’ll use a calm mind to weigh the pros and cons, face the issue clearly, and solve the problem... so tell , do you think you’ve made a mistake?"
Riddle thought carefully and then shook his head.
"Then go ahead with your plan."
Dumbledore was unexpectedly forgiving, saying, "I’m not as clever and wise as many imagine. Just as before when you asked —Is the Confidentiality Law right? Is the current Ministry of Magic right? Is the abolition of the death penalty right?"
"Actually, many tis I wonder, what is right and what is wrong? Maybe ti will eventually give us the answer, but when living through it, we can only see a small path before us."
"So... do what you won’t regret, Riddle. Every action has a cost. I hope you won’t be like ...even years later, don’t feel remorse for your choices."
Riddle stared at him, his heart filled with unspeakable shock.
Dumbledore’s indulgence and trust in him were more profound and substantial than he had imagined.
Perhaps wise people are like this, past experiences engrave irreparable scars on their souls, while also bestowing them with trendous patience.
He doesn’t make rash decisions or interfere with others’ futures, even if it goes against his values, he won’t rudely say—You are wrong! You must follow my way!
Suddenly, Riddle understood why the original Dumbledore was always retreating, whether facing Fudge or Voldemort, his thods always seed overly restrained, even weak.
Because he was always waiting.
Everyone trusts Dumbledore, but Dumbledore himself doesn’t trust himself; he has the least self-confidence of all.
On the tree-lined path, streetlights gradually lit up, casting soft light through the shades.
Dumbledore patted Riddle’s shoulder and said, "It’s dinner ti, better head ho early."
"May I invite you to dinner, Professor?" Riddle asked, "Actually, when I left, my mother wanted to ask but didn’t dare."
The invitation was sowhat abrupt, but Dumbledore still smiled: "I’ll gladly accept your invitation, Mr. Gray."
The Riddle Family dinner was as sumptuous as ever, full of color, aroma, and taste.
Especially since Vid bought a few cookbooks from the Orient; his poppet called Coco could read Chinese and were very adventurous.
After wasting so ingredients, food finally appeared that matched Vid’s taste. Although Mr. and Madam Grey initially felt uncomfortable, they were interested in trying with their son and were quickly won over.
Even when entertaining Hogwarts’ principal at this ti, Fiona felt proud of the family-prepared al.
After overcoming initial awkwardness, she warmly invited Dumbledore to taste.
"This roast goose is amazing! It’s baked after being coated with sugar, deliciously fragrant and sweet, amazing!"
At the ntion of sugar, Dumbledore’s eyes lit up slightly, happily using a fork to take a piece of the caral-colored roast goose.
"Have you tried this honey-glazed pork? I never knew pork could be done like this besides roast pork chops and roast suckling pig! The sauce uses honey, sugar, and peanut oil..."
Dumbledore: Fork a piece! Fork a piece!
Vid knew the principal liked sweets, so the table was full of sweet dishes, even newcors would find it easy to accept.
Dumbledore ate happily and also noticed that even with poppets doing chores, the Grey family still actively participated in setting the table and other small tasks.
Mr. Gray wiped the soup off the table, and Vid stood to pour wine for his parents and Dumbledore.
He smiled with a gentle expression in his blue eyes.
Mutual respect among the couple, and love and care between parents and children, creating harmony.
How could Vid, from such a family, be like Grindelwald or Voldemort?
He inherently possesses what Dumbledore never believed he owned—
That is love.
...
Dumbledore left, taking a sweet dessert gift prepared by Fiona and leaving behind so worries that weighed on Vid.
He finally found ti to transform into "Vener," contacting the werewolf girl Claire, whom he had postponed for over a week.
Although the bearded werewolf had gone to do what Snape does, Vid felt keeping contact was no harm, as all he needed to pay was a little salary.
Moreover, if the issue of lycanthropy could be resolved, it would be a trendous help to many.
From Lupin, Vid knew that while werewolves possess great power post-transformation, it only brings tornt to them, possibly only a few inherently antisocial individuals enjoy it.
For the first contact, Vid didn’t et Claire, only asked them to send hairs and blood samples before and after transformation.
In the Magic World, many curses are enacted through blood or hair. Claire’s werewolf friends hesitated upon hearing his request, but she sent it resolutely.
[I’m not afraid of death.]
She wrote on the parchnt: [Ending this early makes death a blessing.]
Receiving the materials, Vid felt his shoulders slightly heavy, as if burdened by the girl’s expectations.
He set aside so for magical research, and sent the rest to a private lab, spending a considerable sum to commission detailed tests.
——For thousands of years, Wizards hadn’t solved the werewolf problem, Vid didn’t think he was smarter than the Great Mages.
But maybe trying Muggle thods, dissecting the differences between werewolves and ordinary people at the microscopic level could help.
On the eve of school, Vid saw a sensational headline in the Prophet Daily—
[The Dark Side of the Ministry of Magic Officials—Uncovering What You Don’t Know about Dolores Umbridge].
Vid almost choked on his breakfast and quickly gulped water, then opened the newspaper.
"Hmm? I rember this journalist nad Rita Skeeter, her articles are very provocative."
Ferdinand, who often reads the newspaper, also looked down at the article, while saying: "Is this Umbridge getting ousted? How could this kind of report be allowed?"
Vid: ...
He suddenly rembered the words he said in front of Fudge.
Uh...Does Fudge have such strong action ability?
Vid flipped through the newspaper, seeing what Skeeter wrote.
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