A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

In the club room, Harry, Ron, and Hermione argued heatedly.

"Harry, we shouldn't jump to conclusions. Remember back in our first year? You thought Snape was after the Philosopher's Stone, but he was actually protecting it while keeping an eye on Quirrell. He even saved you when Quirrell tried to make you fall off your broom during that Quidditch match," Hermione reasoned, locking the door with a spell to ensure privacy for their conversation.

"I remember," Harry muttered.

"And in our second year—"

"Thanks for bringing up second year. He wanted to expel me and Ron as soon as the term started. Hermione, he wasn't trying to protect me. His mind isn't magically linked to Dobby's, and he didn't even know the Chamber of Secrets would be opened," Harry grumbled.

"Oh, well..." Hermione faltered, "In our third year, he was on our side—"

"Do we need to give him a medal for not teaming up with the Dementors?" Harry snapped. "Hermione, why do you keep defending him? He used to be a damn Death Eater!"

Hermione fell silent for a moment. "But Dumbledore vouched for him. You told us that yourself, Harry, remember? You saw it in the Pensieve..."

"He's... not... trustworthy," Harry gritted his teeth.

Harry remained silent.

Ron and Hermione looked at him, troubled. "You mean Dumbledore—why would you think that?"

Harry stayed quiet.

Inside, Harry harbored a massive secret that felt suffocating. It had nothing to do with Snape but everything to do with Dumbledore. From the stack of letters given by Sirius, he learned something profoundly shocking.

"Have you been having nightmares lately, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, glancing at Ron, who shook his head, clueless.

"No," Harry replied emotionlessly, but Ron and Hermione looked even more concerned. After much internal struggle, Harry took out a letter from his pocket and handed it to Hermione.

She read it aloud immediately:

"Dear Padfoot," she paused, "whose letter is this?"

"My mum," Harry said. "Keep reading."

"Okay.

Dear Padfoot,

Thank you, thank you for the birthday present you got Harry! It's his favorite toy now. He's only one and already flying around on his toy broom, he looks so happy. I've attached a picture for you to see.

It's a shame you can't come...

James is feeling a bit cooped up here. He tries not to show it, but I can tell—the Invisibility Cloak is still with Dumbledore, so there's no chance of going out. If you could come, he'd be so delighted.

Wormtail visited last weekend. He seemed low, maybe it's the news from the McKinnons. I cried myself to sleep after hearing about it.

Bathilda comes often, such an interesting old lady. She told me a lot of stories about Dumbledore, quite unimaginable. I don't know if he'd be pleased to hear them! Honestly, I don't know what to believe, it's hard to believe Dumbledore was friends with Gellert Grindelwald, the Dark Wizard who terrorized Europe, and they bonded over ideals! ℟𝐀NŎ𝖇Ё§

But Bathilda Bagshot claims to be Grindelwald's aunt, and if that's true, it's hard to doubt anything else she says, she has no reason to lie. She even revealed something, the phrase later used by Grindelwald to justify all his atrocities and gain fame—'For the greater good,' supposedly first appeared in letters Dumbledore wrote to his friend. It's astonishing.

There are more unbelievable things I can't disclose in a letter. Maybe we shouldn't judge a 17-year-old too harshly. Think about how foolish we were back then, James still thinks the whole world should know about Quidditch!

That's all for now. I hear Harry crying, I hope it's not because James is too boring, or I'll knock his head... Oh, I still find it hard to believe Dumbledore would be friends with Gellert Grindelwald. I think she's a bit muddled in the head!

Endless love,

Lily."

Harry saw shock written all over Ron and Hermione's faces, almost mirroring his own reaction when he first read the letter. For a moment, he felt the tender gaze his mother had expressed, something he had never known, quickly shattered by the cold, hard facts. His heart felt torn in two; one half joyful and nostalgic, discovering snippets of his past, the other, a newer and harsher reality of Dumbledore, merely two years older than him. But at that time, Dumbledore had befriended the future infamous Dark Wizard, Gellert Grindelwald. 'Bonded over ideals'—how ironic!

And the Invisibility Cloak, Dumbledore took it. Why? A wizard of his caliber didn't need it to become invisible. Harry recalled their earlier speculations about the Deathly Hallows... the third brother's Invisibility Cloak...

If the young Dumbledore conversed and befriended someone aspiring to establish a wizard-led new order, were they interested in the legendary Deathly Hallows that could master death? Were they planning to build an eternal reign like Voldemort? Harry felt ashamed of his thoughts, comparing Dumbledore to Voldemort. But he struggled to find a way to justify it or shake off the hindsight: What if Dumbledore hadn't taken the cloak? Would his family still be alive?

Harry stubbornly disregarded the fact that Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and even Professor Moody had all seen through the Invisibility Cloak, clinging to an unverifiable possibility, oscillating between hope and resentment. He buried it all deep within, locking it away with Occlumency, until he couldn't help but burst out when speaking with Hermione.

He felt bitterness coursing through his veins, staring intensely at Ron and Hermione, conveying silently, "See, Dumbledore isn't as saintly as we think..." He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction seeing their expressions bordering on breakdown.

"Harry," Hermione started but faltered, "I know this is unbelievable, but it's understandable—"

"Understandable?" Harry shouted. "Understandable? You know he—"

"Yeah, I know," Hermione interrupted, agitatedly running her hand through her hair, pacing in the room, "I know... gifted minds have a lot of ideas, especially at their most creative age. Some people are far more extreme than this..."

"Who are you talking about?" Harry suddenly asked.

"What—"

"You said some are more extreme than Dumbledore, and I can't think of—"

"That's not important!" Hermione snapped. "We all know Dumbledore is sitting in his office right now, not involved in any of Grindelwald's speeches or atrocities. On the contrary, he stopped him."

"He took the Invisibility Cloak," Harry gritted his teeth, adamant.

"Harry, I'm... I'm sorry, I know this hurts, but we know the Invisibility Cloak wouldn't stop... Voldemort. Their fate was sealed from the moment Wormtail betrayed them—"

"I! Don't! Believe! In! Fate!" Harry yelled, his voice distorting from anger.

Hermione shot him a careful look, signaling Ron to help, but Ron seemed still shell-shocked. He

scrambled, "Yeah, Harry, I think what Hermione means is—"

"What does she mean?" Harry interjected, through clenched teeth.

"It's just, it's just... brilliant minds are always different, they mature early, like Professor Snape, and of course, you—" Ron spoke slowly.

"Me?" Harry looked incredulously at Ron, feeling a strange reduction in his anger, definitely not because Ron called him a genius—that was absurd.

"Absolutely, it's you." Ron's tone flowed smoother now, but he still spoke slowly, as if he were improvising. "No one your age has been through as much as you have, bluntly speaking—even Dumbledore..." He pursed his lips, refraining from saying anything too impolite. "You've set your sights on one of the most powerful wizards in the world, foiled his plans time and again, and even founded the Auror Reserves—"

"My achievements—" Harry began.

"To be honest, they're pretty off the charts. I collect Chocolate Frog cards, you know 'Unbeatable Andros'? He's famed for summoning giant corporeal protectors, and you managed that at fifteen—"

"I used magic—"

"At least, nobody else has shown it publicly besides Snape, right? And combat skills, you're surpassing the usual Auror standards now. You defeated Sirius in training, so much so he can't even call on you in class..."

"That was just a sparring match." Harry's face reddened.

Ron patted his shoulder. "Harry, you know what other graduates say about you? A rightful leader among students. Nobody else dares to admit that, except for you."

"Sorry," Hermione interjected coldly, "I haven't heard that term."

"Because you're not a graduate." Ron retorted without missing a beat. "Collins told me, and there are tapes from the last two matches after the tournament. You wouldn't believe how popular they are... Harry, your fame is quite something, not just because of the scar on your forehead. Well, I've got some fans too, writing me letters..."

Harry and Hermione stared at him.

Ron sheepishly continued, "Granted, not as many fans as you have, but who's counting?"

Harry felt oddly conflicted. He didn't understand how the conversation veered towards whether he was a genius or not, but undoubtedly, his resentment towards Dumbledore had lessened. The gloom that had weighed on him these days seemed to dissipate a bit.

"Even if what you're saying makes sense, it still shows Dumbledore makes mistakes too." He said stiffly.

"I've got an idea," Hermione said.

Harry looked at her, asking, "What is it?" but without much hope.

"Write a letter." Hermione's lips curved slightly as she took out parchment and a quill from her bag, waving her wand, and the quill started writing on its own on the parchment in a handwriting completely different from Hermione's.

Harry and Ron leaned in, seeing the first line: 'Dear Felix.' Both of them were surprised, mouths hanging open.

"Dear Felix," Felix read the letter with a peculiar expression, thinking he'd never receive any more messages from 'Miss Jane' in his life. He continued reading:

"Please forgive my audacity in writing to you. My previous letter may have seemed a bit pessimistic, but things have been getting better gradually.

Though the situation is still challenging, I firmly believe the future will be brighter. Lately, my mind has been full of many intriguing ideas, like a thousand Billywig beetles arguing incessantly. Maybe adapting the stories in my head into a book would be well-received?

I don't think I'd make a good writer, but the characters in this story seem to have a life of their own. The trials they face resonate with me as if they were real. I desperately need valuable opinions, if you'd be willing...

The story unfolds in a secluded, closed-off town. The mayor, a venerable elder who once fought in a war and captured a notorious pirate, returned to the town and became the protector of its people, highly respected by them.

But there were a few formerly influential individuals who believed the old mayor encroached on their interests. They gathered around a ruthless, evil leader, aiming to overthrow the mayor and regain their previous high status.

The town's apothecary harbored a boy among its residents. Among his neighbors was a cheerful, outgoing girl. They were of the same age and later became good friends.

After starting school, while the boy and girl didn't end up in the same class, their friendship endured. During this time, two significant events occurred in the boy's life. He joined a school group that had favorable views toward the evil faction wreaking havoc around the town's outskirts. Though the girl constantly advised him to leave, the boy sought prestige and didn't agree. Another event, in the last two years before graduation, he had a falling out with the girl.

Post-graduation, the boy clandestinely joined the criminal faction while the girl became a policewoman, marrying her suitor. The girl and her suitor foiled the evil faction's plots several times, infuriating the faction's leader, who personally killed them, leaving behind only an infant.

After that day, the evil leader also disappeared, much to the joy of the townsfolk. During the trial, the mayor vouched for the boy, acknowledging he had been part of the faction but had turned into an undercover agent at a certain point.

The boy became a teacher at the town's sole school, and years went by. The orphan of the girl reached school age, having been secretly fostered by the girl's relatives, had a miserable childhood, thinking he'd shovel dung for the rest of his life, but unexpectedly received a school acceptance letter.

The child walked into the school with immense joy but was met with hostility from the boy—now a teacher—similarly unfortunate in his childhood. I'm not sure why, perhaps this child always reminded the teacher of his father?

The child showed great athletic talent and might become an excellent sheriff someday. At this time, the criminal faction that had been dormant for over a decade resurfaced. The orphan wanted to avenge his parents, so he gathered information on the faction leader. He knew the leader had acquired new weaponry and learned the reason the leader hadn't died before was because he wore durable armor made of precious materials, six pieces of such armor...

Lately, the child noticed the teacher, who had always been suspicious of him, behaving unusually. Possibly, he's also investigating the secrets of the armor. This is odd—because the mayor not only knew why the leader hadn't died but also personally destroyed several pieces of the armor—so this teacher is definitely going against the mayor's orders by investigating secretly.

The child has too many doubts; he doesn't know if the teacher who treats him poorly is good or bad. If he's good, why disobey the mayor's orders? Especially now, the child has discovered that the mayor had made mistakes in his youth, shaking the image of wisdom and virtue that the child had of him..."

Felix put down the letter, smiling quite happily. Valen looked at him strangely.

"Oh, someone's secrets are about to be exposed." He glanced at the snow owl waiting for a reply and asked, "Your name's Jovian?"@@novelbin@@

Heidi reluctantly murmured low, burying her head into her wings.

The original letter found by Harry was only half, the remaining half I filled in. I've tried to condense this part as much as possible in the main text. The original text is as follows:

"Dear Padfoot:

Thank you, thank you for the birthday present you gave Harry! It's his favorite toy. At just one year old, he can already ride the toy broomstick around, and he looks so

happy. I'm enclosing a photo for you to see. You know, the little broomstick is only supposed to lift two feet off the ground, but Harry nearly knocked over a kitten and almost smashed an ugly vase Penny gave me as a Christmas gift (not complaining). Of course, James thinks it's all great fun, saying this child will be the next Quidditch star, but we have to keep all the ornaments packed away and keep an eye on him whenever he flies.

We had a very quiet birthday tea, just old Bathilda present, who's been really kind to us and particularly dotes on Harry. Shame you couldn't make it, but the Order comes first, and besides, Harry doesn't quite understand birthdays at this age! James is getting a bit stir-crazy being cooped up in here, he tries not to show it, but I can tell—our Invisibility Cloak is still at Dumbledore's, so there's no chance of going out. He'd be so thrilled if you could come. Wormy visited last weekend; I felt he was a bit down, but perhaps it's the news from the McKinnons. I cried all night after hearing it myself.

Bathilda comes over often, she's an amusing old lady, tells lots of Dumbledore stories, quite unbelievable. I don't know how much to believe, it's hard to believe Dumbledore—"

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