Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying!

"Yes, who else could it be?" Professor Flitwick walked away with light steps, humming a song.

Dumbledore looked down at the parchment Flitwick had given him; it still contained nothing but Flitwick's name.

Next up was Pomona Sprout.

"I've thought about it, and who else could I give this to besides you?" the witch said with a gentle smile. "I'll be waiting for your call anytime."

Next was Minerva McGonagall, who saw that Dumbledore already had a small stack in his hand and handed him one, somewhat displeased: "Oh, I thought I was the first one, but I didn't expect Pomona to be so quick!"

Actually, she had opened the other gifts first, and by the time she found this one, it was already quite late.

Finally, it was Snape's turn; he simply handed over a notebook.

"Hmph." The Potions professor said coldly, "I kept my own copy, and I don't need the others—useless contacts would only waste my time."

Dumbledore: ...

So everyone has it, only he doesn't know what it is?

Chapter 49 Love is the Greatest Magic

“Wait, Severus.”

Just as Snape was about to turn and leave, Dumbledore called him back and asked calmly, "What is this?"

He waved the parchment in his hand.

Snape paused, then his expression turned somewhat strange.

"You do not know?"

"It's obvious—I'm not as omniscient as people claim. In fact, I often feel like I know too little."

Snape's gaze swept over Dumbledore from head to toe, as if he were looking at a giant dancing ballet on tiptoe. A slight smirk played on his lips, a mixture of mockery and schadenfreude.

"How strange—someone actually gave me a Christmas present, but not the great Dumbledore?"

Snape's sarcastic tone didn't faze Dumbledore. The old headmaster simply drew his wand and waved it at the gift boxes scattered throughout the room. Even the Potions professor couldn't resist peeking in for a look.

The gift boxes swayed slightly, then came to rest.

Dumbledore sighed regretfully and said, "It seems there really isn't."

"Oh," Snape replied dryly.

He had just seen it—Dumbledore's room was piled high with gifts, almost reaching the ceiling. Thinking of the few gift boxes in his own bedroom, Snape suddenly lost his desire to laugh.

He didn't actually care about the amount of the gift—he just didn't want to see people unintentionally showing off.

Snape flicked his finger, and a note shot towards Dumbledore like a bullet.

"This is the instruction manual."

By the time Dumbledore caught the note, Snape had already turned and strode away. The white-bearded headmaster adjusted his glasses, then looked down and quickly understood how to use it.

"Oh—could this replace the invention of the Muggle telephone? A very interesting idea—"

He chanted the incantation, examining the magic on the parchment—or rather, the Book of Friends.

"A clever idea, a brilliant combination... It seems Mr. Gray's studies in alchemy have begun to bear fruit—and he's quite talented—no wonder Morrie is so proud—"

Realizing that he was the only one who hadn't received a gift, Dumbledore recalled the expressions on the children's faces that day and vaguely understood something.

"So that's how it is... a smart and sensitive child... is that right? Unlike Harry, this child probably doesn't like being guided—"

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

“Ralph has rarely seen an eleven-year-old like this,” the voice said. “He’s a bit like Albus Dumbledore back then; and like Tom Riddle back then—intelligent, insightful, and different from the crowd.”

Dumbledore looked down and said modestly, "Oh, you're overestimating me. When I was eleven, I knew just as much about alchemy as any other child."

His gaze fell upon a very old house-elf standing before the fireplace. His skin was wrinkled, and he was wrapped in a tea towel with the Hogwarts crest. His ears were filled with fluffy, white fur. He was so thin that his body seemed capable of being broken easily, but his large green eyes were remarkably clear.

He said in a whisper, “Albus Dumbledore is so arrogant. By saying that, he is admitting that he is different and that he should be able to do everything.”

“Don’t be so blunt, dear Ralph,” Dumbledore said helplessly. “You see me too clearly, which often makes me feel ashamed.”

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

"Ralph is willing to serve, master."

The house-elf bowed, stepped back a few paces, and extended his slender fingers.

The gift boxes piled up in the room opened themselves, books swiftly scurried into the bookshelves and arranged neatly, and clean food jumped into the cupboards, the doors slamming shut behind them. Various greeting cards and letters fell into several boxes, neatly stacked on the table, waiting for Dumbledore to examine them when he had time. Other items were arranged in various corners of the room.

As for the problematic gifts, they were gathered together and mercilessly squeezed and crushed by magic.

Not long after, Ralph disappeared from the room with the "trash" and wrapping paper.

On the table, only two or three gift boxes remained unopened—those were boxes that only Dumbledore could open himself.

While the elves were busy, Dumbledore would sign his name on each of the Book of Friends—[Albus Dumbledore].

The professors who stayed at the university during the Christmas holidays had no families, and probably no relatives either. They all chose to give Dumbledore a copy of their Book of Friends, which was for one-on-one contact only.

So Dumbledore, who didn't receive a Book of Friends as a Christmas present, still had a Book of Friends that was thicker than anyone else's this morning.

After putting away the Book of Friends, Dumbledore sat at the table and thought for a long time. The light and shadow of time swept before his eyes, rippling deep within his blue eyes.

Do they look alike? Of course they look very alike.

Thinking back carefully, the way Wade Gray looked at me in the crowd that day was so similar to how I looked when I was young.

But Dumbledore would never forget how he had made a mess of his own life.

After pondering for a long time, he carefully picked up his pen and wrote a letter—

Dear Morrie:

I've received your gift from the owl, and I must say, it's incredibly ingenious—even magnificent. It's hard to believe it was created by an eleven-year-old… Of course, in some ways its structure is actually quite simple and easy to understand. But it's precisely because of its simplicity that it's so remarkable, and I think you understand what I mean… I can almost see the earth-shattering changes it will bring to the wizarding world in the future…

To be honest, this makes me both happy and scared—what kind of education should we give such a talented child?

The last time I encountered a student so brilliant it was terrifying was fifty years ago… You probably remember that student too—Tom Riddle… I wouldn't be so arrogant as to believe that my personal attitude determined Voldemort's life. But I must admit, my education of him was undoubtedly a failure…

A precocious child with exceptional talent, whose emotions are restrained by thought and isolated by their own intellect… Even standing among countless people, they are lonely, because their sharp mind and keen perception make them more likely to see through the selfishness, greed, ugly desires, and obsessive arrogance in human nature… They maintain a certain distance from others, using humor, kindness, or politeness to disguise their inner disappointment and indifference towards humanity… They are more prone to losing their way than those clumsy children…

You know, I'm not just talking about Tom Riddle, and I'm not just talking about Wade Gray.

Therefore, I have some perhaps immature suggestions regarding your student, Wade...

Dear friends, when we adults face children who are much younger than us, we often develop an unconscious arrogance because we possess more knowledge and experience... We look down on those children with a sense of superiority, wielding absolute power like a monarch, instilling in them the information we want them to know, guarding the information we think they shouldn't know, manipulating them with words, and guiding them in the direction we want them to see...

What arrogance!

What's even more dangerous is that we are often unaware of this arrogance.

Because we all believe we are making the right decisions, in order to make them "better people"...

I can't say that this is absolutely wrong, because children's minds are often not mature enough, and they don't know how to control their words and actions. If they are not properly guided, they can easily go astray and cause harm to themselves and others... But for a student like Wade Gray, ordinary education may only have the opposite effect...

If I've learned anything from my years of failed parenting, it's this: love is the most difficult yet most powerful magic in the world. It's mysterious and unpredictable, yet it can change everything and determine everything...

Chapter 50 Formal Robes

On Christmas Day, the Grey family had a big meal, watched a musical, and took many photos. The old-fashioned camera they used was a Christmas gift from Ferdinand to Wid, while Fiona's gift was developing solution.

“This camera was bought in Diagon Alley. They said it works fine at Hogwarts,” Ferdinand said with a smile. “That way you can take pictures of your life at school.”

"The owner of the Diagon Alley ice cream parlor told me that if you use the right developing solution, the people in the photos will move!" Fiona exclaimed excitedly. "So what are we waiting for? Let's take the photos today!"

But after the photos were taken, they discovered that even something as simple as developing photos required a wand, and Vader couldn't use magic at home.

Seeing Fiona's disappointment, Wade suggested, "Actually, we can stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the night—there are many adult wizards there, and even if magic is used, the Ministry of Magic can't be sure who did it and won't receive a warning letter."

Fiona was somewhat tempted, but still shook her head: "Forget it, what if we get found out? It would be so bad for you! Anyway, you'll be going back to school in a few days..."

As she spoke, she became melancholic. She had already begun to miss Wade even before he left.

Ferdinand frowned and said, "Vade, is the accuracy of the Ministry of Magic's enforcement really that low?"

"We can only monitor a general range of the use of magic by underage wizards. As for other things—" Wade thought about the Ministry of Magic's increasingly poor performance year after year in the story, "—it seems like we're not doing too well in other areas either."

“Don’t underestimate the Ministry of Magic, Vader,” Ferdinand warned. “No law enforcement agency is without violence, and if you don’t take it seriously, you’re likely to make the wrong judgments.”

Wade said seriously, "I understand, Dad."

Indeed, the Ministry of Magic, which he now despises, can imprison Dumbledore's professors in Azkaban and has the power to expel Hogwarts students. This power has not diminished much because of the Ministry of Magic's bloated, corrupt, and incompetent nature—on the contrary, it is the incompetent and corrupt who are more inclined to abuse their power.

The next day, the Grays got up very early because they were going shopping in Diagon Alley, which was destined to take a long time.

They went to Gringotts to exchange money first, and Ferdinand had already prepared a heavy bag.

“Those goblins don’t like paper money,” he explained to Vader. “With paper money, the maximum you can exchange is 20 Galleons. Coins have a higher limit, but there’s no limit if you use gold. Goblins really like gold.”

“I don’t need that much money, Dad,” Wade persuaded. “Hogwarts provides room and board, and some students only need 10 Galleons a year.”

“That’s because they can only buy secondhand goods, they can’t buy snacks, and they even have to use ink sparingly.” Ferdinand patted his head: “Your flaw is that you’re too sensible, Wade. Sometimes you can be a little willful.”

"And aren't you learning alchemy?" Fiona shook her finger. "Don't try to fool me! Even if I don't know magic, I know that learning alchemy must cost a lot of money. Hogwarts can't possibly provide you with unlimited materials for practice, can it?"

Wade pursed his lips and said softly, "Thank you, Dad, Mom—I love you."

He was introverted from a young age, and it was difficult for him to say "I love you," an expression that most children take for granted. Upon hearing this, the Grays were pleasantly surprised; they exchanged a glance and couldn't help but smile.