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"Professor!" Hermione stood up immediately, half-panicked at being caught outside the dorms after curfew. "We… we didn't know that you—"
"That I would come?" the Headmaster finished with a light smile, "Neither did I. But sometimes, the castle likes to warn me when something important is happening inside it."
Leaving that enigmatic statement in the air, the old and powerful wizard then turned to the rest of the group.
"As for what you were discussing earlier, you don't need to worry."
"I understand all the stress and nervousness you went through. I know you want to stay as close as possible to your children… For that reason, I can guarantee that no one will be required to leave Hogwarts tonight," he reassured us.
Finishing that, he turned to the younger ones, "And as for you, I took the liberty of informing your Heads of House that you will not be returning to your dormitories tonight. Therefore, you may stay here with your relatives and friends as well."
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," my mom said on behalf of everyone.
Jean and Apolline also thanked him in French, while Dora made an exaggerated bow, earning a small laugh from the old Headmaster.
With that, all the families prepared to go upstairs and rest, somewhat curious to see what the bedrooms created by the Room of Requirement looked like.
"Aren't you going up, Ethan?" Luna asked me, tilting her head in that curious way of hers when she saw that I hadn't moved.
"Later. Right now I'm not really in the mood to sleep," I replied, giving her a small smile.
The blonde girl stared at me for a few more seconds then, her big dreamy eyes fixed on my face as if searching for something.
"Oh, alright," she said after a moment, before skipping toward the stairs to the second floor.
'Heh… Luna being Luna,' I shook my head affectionately.
Before going up, my parents, Nick, Penny and even Fleur also threw a few glances my way. But unlike Luna, none of them asked whether I was going to sleep or anything like that.
They knew I needed some time to think, and that I wanted to be alone.
So they simply nodded silently at me — a gesture that meant they would be there if I needed them.
After everyone headed to the rooms, disappearing into the corridors of the upper floor, I turned, walking toward my armchair.
Sitting down, I stared at the red flames in the fireplace, wearing a relaxed, almost sleepy expression — though there was a deeply thoughtful look hidden behind it.
The Headmaster, who had not yet left the Room of Requirement, approached me. Standing by my side, he also looked into the flames with a serene and calm air.
"I would like to apologize for today, Ethan," the Headmaster was the first to break the silence, "I want to apologize both for not being able to keep you safe during the last task, and for the way I acted on the Quidditch pitch."
Without changing my expression, I lifted my head to look at him, "I can forgive you for the first one, Headmaster… but not for the second."
"If you allow me to ask… Why not?"
"Because the problem in all of this wasn't how you acted, but the fact that you think what I did was wrong… Something you still think," I answered, still feeling that small trace of disappointment coming from him.
"That…" The Headmaster blinked, then sighed, "Ethan, it's not that I think what you did was wrong, but rather that I believe there were better and less brutal ways to handle it."
"And that's where we disagree, Headmaster," I shook my head lightly, "Yes, there were many other ways — good and bad — to deal with Barty Junior, Pettigrew and Macnair."
"But you make it sound like I chose to deal with them that way, killing them… You never even considered that, in reality, it was my only option."
"At that moment, it was them or me and Harry… It wasn't a hard choice," I shrugged.
"But what if you did have a choice?" he insisted, staring at me attentively, "Would you still have… killed them?"
Without hesitation, I nodded, "Honestly? Yes, I would have."
"Even if there were hundreds of alternatives, I would never choose to simply restrain or lightly injure them."
"To keep them from hurting anyone else again, I would do whatever was necessary… Even if it upset you or the others who think that's 'morally wrong.'"
"Ethan, you're walking a very narrow path," the old wizard warned, his expression completely serious.
"The barrier between justice and vengeance is fragile, and a single spark of hatred or resentment is enough to break it."
"And that, my boy, will only cause a disaster that brings more despair and sadness," he said, trying to convey the weight of the situation with his gaze.
"Headmaster, your fortune-cookie phrases are interesting and all, but this isn't your philosophy club — this is a war," I said, with disdain in my voice.
"And don't forget: in the last war, your cheerful little group was getting beaten all over Britain by the Death Eaters… all because they decided to follow this pacifist and forgiving path of yours."
"And that years-long fight only ended thanks to an incident full of luck and coincidence, and a special magic created by a mother's unconditional love."
"So now that we're at the doorstep of a second war, don't expect me to act the same way you did, because maybe this time we won't have a miraculous savior like that."
"If everything goes wrong because I decided to go easy on those damned dark wizards, the ones who will suffer the consequences will be my family and friends… And I won't allow that."
Finishing that, I stared intensely at the man standing beside me, a fierce and determined light in my eyes.
My words, expression and posture made it more than clear that nothing he said or did would change my mind.
I was determined to fight these battles my way, whether he liked it or not.
After my outburst, a heavy silence fell over the two of us.
I didn't even need to use my sensory abilities to know that my words had hit Headmaster Dumbledore hard.
And seeing that I had managed to make my point to him, I leaned back into the armchair, returning my gaze to the fireplace.
'Great… I've been wanting to say these things to his face for a long time,' I thought, suppressing my petty satisfaction.
Then, closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the emotions that had been stirred up because of this unwanted conversation.
The uncomfortable silence lasted a few more seconds before the Headmaster broke it with a tired sigh.
"You've given me much to think about today," he said, sounding like he had aged a few years.
He then turned fully toward me, "I just want you to know, Ethan, that even though we disagree on many things, you're still my student. So I will always be here if you need me."
"If you ever need help with something, want some advice, or simply wish to talk, the door to my office will always be open to you," he finished, offering me a tense smile that tried to look friendly.
Looking at this elderly man who believed he could guide and shape every major event in the wizarding world — and who acted as if only his decisions were ever the right ones — I let out a long breath.
I might find many of his ideals foolish or even cowardly, but I neither despised nor hated him.
What I truly felt was disappointment, frustration, and, far too often, irritation.
And yet, despite all of that, I could still understand him to a degree.
He was a man who had endured more than most, suffered losses far too heavy, and now carried a burden larger than any single person should.
And understanding that, and seeing his attempt to make peace, I couldn't simply ignore him.
"Well, I accept your invitation," I said. And before the Headmaster could get too pleased, I added, "But I'll warn you right now: I expect you to have some snacks ready for me when I show up."
"And none of your Lemon Drops… They're not tasty at all."
At that, the Headmaster's smile became more genuine and cheerful.
"Hah, of course…" he nodded, a glimmer in his eyes, "I'm sure that if I ask Filius, he'd teach me the recipe for his famous cupcakes."
"Well, and if that doesn't work, you can always ask Professor McGonagall for her cookie recipe," I suggested.
"Uh…" the Headmaster's smile froze the moment he heard that. "Err… unfortunately, that won't be possible."
I blinked at him, curiosity rising. "Why?"
A peculiar expression appeared on his face, "Because Minerva forbade me from attempting to make her cookies… Or any other cookie, actually."
"What did you do?" I asked, looking at him suspiciously.
Seeing that I immediately assumed he had done something wrong, he began to sweat, "I didn't do anything particularly dreadful… I just added more sugar to the cookies than the recipe asked for, and Minerva apparently didn't like that very much."
"How much sugar are we talking about exactly?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm… something between three and five."
"Spoons?"
"…Whole bags."
…
…
…
"Headmaster, please… do not touch Professor Flitwick's cupcake recipe," I pleaded, pressing my lips together.
"…Okay," He gave a small, disappointed nod.
And in his mind, he couldn't help wondering why no one seemed to appreciate a good sugary treat.
End.
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