Under the oppressive gaze of Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age who had defeated the first Dark Lord and kept the second in hiding, Ares appeared indifferent... or seemingly so.
His magical skills for protecting his mind from intrusion were still unrefined, and using them inevitably put a strain on his body.
Theoretically, based on his understanding of Dumbledore, the Headmaster probably wouldn't stoop to using Legilimency on an underage wizard.
But... Ares didn't dare gamble, not one bit.
His identity as a transmigrator and his foreknowledge of the plot were naturally the greatest secrets in his heart.
And Dumbledore's regret over failing to guide Voldemort correctly during his school years, leading to his later tyranny, was a deep-seated obsession.
If he revealed any clues... no one could guarantee what would happen.
Ares met Dumbledore's sharp gaze. He knew he had to give an answer, and he couldn't lie.
"It's just a personal hobby of mine, Professor Dumbledore," Ares said.
"That is a very peculiar hobby, Mr. Delfino," Dumbledore said, his words and eyes equally sharp.
"I thought young wizards your age were all eager to stand out—I mean, to show their classmates and professors how outstanding they are."
"There's a famous saying by a Muggle philosopher—no two leaves in this world are exactly alike, let alone people."
"Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz's famous quote. Yes, although Muggles cannot use magic, their understanding of this world is unique... admirable."
Dumbledore was like a silent mountain; whether in power or intellect, he was not easily shaken.
"There must be a reason, Mr. Delfino?"
The silhouette of the lamp on Dumbledore's aged face grew deeper.
"For your particular hobby."
A silence descended.
Ares and Dumbledore looked at each other... Objectively speaking, neither of them knew what the other was thinking right now.
"If I answer your question... if I give a satisfactory answer," Ares asked softly after a long while, "can you save me from being expelled?"
Fawkes the phoenix gave a soft cry. The call was elegant and melodious, yet it struck Dumbledore like a mighty bell, causing his face to twitch slightly.
The oppressive aura he radiated into the air dissipated at a speed visible to the naked eye, eventually becoming somewhat dejected.
"I cannot do it, Mr. Delfino," Dumbledore's voice was slightly hoarse.
"The trouble you face goes far beyond the school, do you understand?"
"You can do it," Ares countered calmly, offering a completely different view.
"But you won't do it, unless..."
"Unless?"
"Unless you are willing to use power to force authority to submit. But in that case, what would be the difference between you and You-Know-Who—that is what you think."
"I don't recall how many times today I've been surprised by the magical attainments and wisdom you display, far surpassing your peers, Mr. Delfino."
Dumbledore locked eyes with Ares again, the confusion in his bright blue eyes genuine.
He clearly understood that through normal means, he couldn't learn from this boy why he was so keen on hiding his brilliance.
And abnormal means...
As the hidden meaning in Delfino's words just now suggested, the difference between him and Tom was just an inadvertent step across the line.
He gazed at Ares Delfino, at his eyes; at his thin body; at the magical power within him that remained highly active like a volcano; at his soul...
This was the only thing that comforted him: the boy's soul was whole and unpolluted.
"Have you ever conducted any body modification experiments, or taken any potions with severe side effects but capable of enhancing magical power, or tried any ancient magical techniques to enhance your magical power?"
"No, Professor Dumbledore," Ares said calmly.
"And I believe I will not attempt such things in the future."
Another silence descended, the longest one tonight.
Behind the Sorting Hat, a row of past Hogwarts Headmasters hung on the curved wall. Ares's unrippled eyes reflected the expression of each portrait.
Some expressed sympathy, some looked at him with suspicion, and some even tried to signal Dumbledore to throw him straight into Azkaban.
"I have no more questions, Mr. Delfino."
After a long silence, Dumbledore's first sentence was this, his voice laced with hoarseness.
So, Ares nodded, stood up, and took two steps back.
Ares looked at the old man with the weathered face behind the spindle-legged desk, gazed at him, and then—
The glacial indifference on his face melted.
For the first time tonight, Ares smiled—a polite smile, a refreshing smile.
He bowed slowly, performing a classical-style courtesy to Dumbledore, his voice clear as a trickling mountain spring.
"Then, please allow me to take my leave for now, Professor Dumbledore."
Evidently, Dumbledore was quite moved. His silver beard trembled, and his eyes were not as bright as before.
He watched Ares's retreating figure calmly, his heart falling into a daze—hesitation—unease...
"You don't have to leave the school in such a hurry, Mr. Delfino," Dumbledore said.
"You... can stay here until the end of the term. That might be easier to explain to your family."
Ares stopped, turned his head, twitched the corner of his mouth again, and then continued walking.
"Have you considered staying at Hogwarts in another way, Mr. Delfino?"
Dumbledore stood up from his seat, his slightly urgent voice chasing after Ares's back.
But this time, the boy in his sight didn't pause his steps and walked straight out of his office.
Gone for years...
---
"He was expelled just like that?"
In Hagrid's hut, Harry and Ron stared at Hagrid in disbelief, their eyes filled with anger and confusion.
" Sigh—"
Hagrid sighed heavily.
"You're still young; it's normal that you can't understand."
"But Professor Dumbledore—" Harry said urgently.
"Professor Dumbledore is amazing, but he isn't..."
---
In the office of the Head of Gryffindor House.
"Omnipotent—"
Professor McGonagall said with a heavy heart, filled with guilt.
"Can you forgive us, Ares?"