The current headmaster of Hogwarts, with his silver-white hair and beard cascading to his waist, wore half-moon glasses perched on his hooked nose.
It was clear he had come in a rush; he was still dressed in the deep maroon robes of a Wizengamot member, with a silver "W" embroidered on his chest, layered beneath a black overcoat that gave him an air of mystery and style.
"Professor Dumbledore!"
Harry, who had been grabbing a small cake from the fridge to snack on, hurriedly swallowed it when he saw the headmaster arrive and almost choked in the process.
"Luckily, Wade came up with a plan. The Ministry has given up on arresting Sirius, and Fudge left with his people just a few minutes ago," Lupin explained.
He cast a quick "Aguamenti" spell to conjure a glass of water for Harry and then invited the headmaster to sit.
"Would you care for a glass of mead, sir?"
"Oh, is it from The Three Broomsticks?" Dumbledore asked.
"Of course."
"Then I must insist on having a glass."
Seated on the couch, Dumbledore spoke with a hint of regret in his tone.
"What a pity—I thought I might have the chance to catch up with Fudge. So…what clever strategy did you use to convince him? As far as I know, Fudge is not someone who gives up on his goals so easily."
"Well…about that…"
Wade scratched his nose and gave a brief summary of what had happened earlier.
Lupin poured the honey-colored mead into several clear glasses, its sweet aroma and faint alcoholic scent wafting through the room. With a wave of his wand, the glasses floated over to each person.
"I get one too?" Harry asked in surprise.
"This mead is very mild, almost like a soft drink. You can have a glass," Lupin said.
Harry took a small sip and found it tasted just like a sweet, tangy beverage with a unique honey flavor—very pleasant.
As he listened to the others talk, he slowly sipped away at the glass until he finished it completely.
Wade, who had already mentioned earlier that he was thirsty, treated the honey-colored mead like a drink, sipping as he talked. By the time he recounted Fudge and his team's second departure, and the final blessing from Kingsley, his glass was empty as well.
Lupin, amused by the boys' indulgence, waved his wand again to refill their glasses.
When Wade finished recounting everything, Dumbledore's lips curled into a smile, and his blue eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Such a clever strategy—avoiding any conflict while helping Sirius avoid imprisonment. Wade, you never fail to surprise me," Dumbledore praised.
"Exactly! I was already prepared to cast spells… I never thought that a single sentence could actually make Fudge leave," Lupin added, equally astonished.
"…I thought you might be a little unhappy with me, Professor Dumbledore," Wade hesitated for a moment before admitting honestly.
"Oh? And why would that be?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
"Because, to drive Fudge away the first time, I had Sirius borrow the names of the Alliance and Grindelwald," Wade confessed.
The fact that Wade knew the slogans used during the height of the Alliance power was, of course, thanks to Dumbledore's private tutoring sessions. Wade also understood the complicated relationship between Dumbledore and Grindelwald.
His gray eyes looked at Dumbledore with a hint of concern, as though worried that this might cause him emotional distress.
Dumbledore paused briefly, then smiled.
"Fudge is afraid of big troubles like that, so it was only natural that he hesitated. By the time he realizes his assumptions were unfounded, he would have already backed off."
"Your approach was absolutely correct—using the information you had at hand to cleverly protect the people around you. I'm very proud of you, Wade."
"Oh… thank you," Wade muttered, lowering his gaze to the glass in his hands and thinking for a while.
There was a question lingering in his mind, one he knew he probably shouldn't ask. But there was a certain impulse within him that kept urging him to speak.
"Professor Dumbledore," Wade finally said, "if you think Grindelwald's idea to break the International Statute of Secrecy was wrong back then, do you think it's right now?"
Dumbledore froze for a moment before answering thoughtfully. "No one is absolutely right, Wade. But causing war and harming innocents is unquestionably wrong. In the cradle of peace, wizarding civilization can thrive better."
"Oh…" Wade replied again, but his tone was indifferent. Dumbledore suspected he wasn't truly listening, as Wade's next question came seemingly out of nowhere.
"Professor, I remember you had red hair when you were young."
"That's correct," Dumbledore said, noting the shift in tone as he sighed lightly.
"Then… are you related to the Weasley family?" Wade asked.
Dumbledore gave him a long look and said, "…Red hair is not a unique trait, nor does it mean every red-haired person is related to the Weasley family."
"Oh," Wade replied flatly.
Harry blinked in confusion, leaned toward Lupin, and whispered, "What's wrong with him?"
"…Drunk?"
Lupin glanced at Wade's glass, now mysteriously empty again, and said in confusion, "But this honey mead has such a low alcohol content!"
"Regardless, he might need some rest now. I'll take him to a bedroom," Dumbledore said, standing up. With a wave of his wand, the sofa Wade was sitting on floated slightly off the ground and began to hover gently.
Harry quickly stepped forward to guide them. "My room is upstairs!"
This house had the same layout as the Dursleys'—only three rooms that could serve as bedrooms: one for Lupin, one for Sirius, and one for Harry.
Because the Ministry of Magic kept a strict watch on this area, Lupin and Sirius couldn't freely use the Undetectable Extension Charm to expand the space. Otherwise, they might earn themselves two tickets to Azkaban.
Though Harry hadn't been able to spend the night in this house recently due to his time with the Dursleys, his room was already piled high with clutter—homework, textbooks, Quidditch models, and wizard robes were scattered everywhere.
Feeling embarrassed, Harry rushed ahead to quickly tidy up, shoving everything into the wardrobe in a flurry.
Wade seemed entirely unaware that he was being carried upstairs. He acted as though he were riding an escalator, steadily ascending, all the while asking serious questions—
"Professor, do you think abolishing the death penalty is the right thing to do?"
"—If the British wizarding world still had the death penalty, Sirius would have died twelve years ago, without the chance to clear his name."
"Professor, if you could turn back time and return to your youth… would you make the same choices you did in this lifetime?"
"—I don't think so. There are many regrets I'd want to change, but life doesn't offer do-overs."
"Professor, can you Apparate to the moon?"
"—No. Such a distance would kill even me. Besides, there's no air on the moon, so breathing would be impossible."
Wade's questions grew stranger and stranger, but Dumbledore patiently answered every single one. Eventually, he floated Wade onto the bed, covered him with a blanket, and tucked him in.
"Rest well, Wade," Dumbledore said gently. "You look very tired today."
"Dumbledore!"
Just as Dumbledore was about to leave, Wade suddenly sat up. With a flick of his hand, his wardrobe space made a series of clicking noises and unfolded itself into the center of the room.
Dumbledore turned back, astonished at the sight.
The wardrobe door suddenly swung open with a loud bang, and several mechanical cats dragged out a burly, bearded man, pulling him backward as they emerged.
"This is one of the werewolves who kidnapped the alchemist," Wade said. After delivering this statement, he flopped back onto the bed, pulled the blanket up to his chest, and fell asleep in an instant.
The remaining mechanical cats exchanged glances before quickly darting back into the wardrobe. The massive piece of furniture folded back down rapidly, and shrunk into a small pencil case on the floor.
Dumbledore: "…"
After a moment, the headmaster bent down, picked up the pencil case, and gently placed it on Wade's pillow. He then levitated the bearded man out of the room.
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