The Biting Cabbage Pries Open Your Brain and Leaves in Disappointment

As if to prove a point,

Dumbledore quickened his speech, adding, "Even when I dueled him, he could still cast a Patronus Charm—his Patronus was still a phoenix."

"Those were probably the happiest years of my life," he sighed, his face as withered as the dead trees outside the window. "I was happy, but I only remembered that I was Albus. I forgot that I was also Dumbledore, Ariana's brother."

"I didn't take care of her."

"Aberforth blamed me for failing her. He was right—he had always been right. But back then, I didn't see it that way."

"Gellert defended me. He said Ariana was holding me back, that I was meant to be the greatest wizard, not a failure forced to stay home and care for his sister. He was right, too. I did become the greatest wizard."

Harry flicked his wand, conjuring a glass, then pulled a bottle of vodka from the Sorting Hat and poured half a cup, handing it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore took it, sipping lightly. "The three of us argued. The shouting enraged Ariana, and her magic exploded. Then everything spiraled out of control—a spell, I don't know whose spell—"

"You know exactly whose," Harry said, pouring himself a drink.

Dumbledore flinched, raising a hand to touch his crooked nose. "It was my fault. That spell took Ariana's life."

"That day, I lost the three most important people in my life."

"My lover. My family."

Harry downed his drink.

"You wanted to resurrect Ariana so you could reunite with your brother—so your family could be whole again. So you could continue being lovers with the man who killed your sister."

"No." Dumbledore's voice was unusually firm, almost fierce. "The one who killed Ariana was me."

Harry pressed on.

"But that doesn't seem like the real reason you became so weak."

Dumbledore drained his glass in one gulp.

"After that day, I returned to Hogwarts and became the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Gellert, meanwhile, continued to shake the magical world, pushing forward with his ideals."

"Collecting the Deathly Hallows. Establishing wizard rule over Muggles."

Harry mused, "An ambitious politician."

"He was far better than the likes of Cornelius," Dumbledore countered, shaking his head. "His methods were just too extreme. He was strong, charismatic. He believed he could stand above all rules… and he made many mistakes, broke many laws."

"I made a Blood Pact with him. We swore never to harm each other."

At this, his expression softened, as if he had returned to his youth.

"We were so confident back then. We thought such a thing could never happen." Dumbledore's voice grew tender. "We loved each other—no less than anyone else."

Then, his expression dimmed.

"But in the end, I still broke that vow. I challenged him to a duel. He loved me, yet he lost to me. He locked himself in Nurmengard—the fortress he had once been so proud of, one he believed rivaled Hogwarts."

"Harry, I have never truly succeeded at anything."

"I have made so many fatal mistakes. Just now, I almost made another."

Thus, he summed up his life.

The greatest white wizard.

A lifetime of failure.

"No, you have succeeded," Harry interrupted, shaking his head.

Dumbledore looked at him, then smiled bitterly. "If you mean just being the greatest white wizard—"

"You have taught many outstanding students," Harry interrupted again. "Like me, Hermione, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Wood—okay, maybe not all equally outstanding—but it's these young wizards who shape the wizarding world, isn't it?"

Dumbledore managed a weak smile. "Harry, given our age difference, shouldn't I be the one comforting you?"

"Well, you're about to die," Harry replied bluntly.

"Still want to put on that ring?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away.

He wanted to.

He longed for it.

If Ariana could come back, he could regain what he had lost—both his love and his family.

Harry stood up and looked at him.

"Well then, Professor Dumbledore, would you accept a commission from me?"

Witchers typically only accepted contracts to slay monsters.

But occasionally, there were exceptions—like resolving people's domestic disputes. Geralt often found himself involved in such matters, and Harry had had his fair share of similar experiences.

"A commission?" Dumbledore was startled.

"A contract," Harry emphasized, "where your payment is staying alive until you officiate my and Hermione's wedding. In return, I will find a way to resolve your troubles."

Dumbledore stared at him, his dull eyes gradually lighting up, tears shimmering behind his glasses, blending with the darkness.

Harry smirked.

"Even though Professor Snape and I always say your brain is full of dungstones, I sincerely hope there's at least one in there right now."

Dungstones—an antidote.

Dumbledore sighed. "That sounds awfully difficult for such a generous reward."

Harry whistled.

"This is the first time I've met someone who complains about being paid too much. Since you feel that way, Professor Dumbledore, you should start taking your teaching duties more seriously. One lesson a week is too little."

Dumbledore's tone lightened. "Alright then, when shall we start next week?"

Harry thought about his schedule.

"How about Thursday?

"Transfiguration ends at ten, and the next class isn't until two—Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"It's close to the third floor. We can run the lesson until 1:50."

Dumbledore stiffened.

"Harry, I think we still need time for lunch."

"No time for lunch. I'm young; I don't have the patience for that." Harry shook his head decisively. "Three hours and fifty minutes is already tight. Lunch would waste another ten."

"I think twenty minutes for lunch is reasonable." Dumbledore tried to negotiate.

Harry said nothing, simply watching him.

Dumbledore sighed, tugging at the blanket.

Why had he let himself get talked into this?

"Is the contract set?" Harry held out his hand.

Dumbledore hesitated, then extended his own, lightly clasping Harry's.

"Should we seal it with an Unbreakable Vow? We can call the Hat over."

"You could still kill yourself even if a spell stopped you." Harry shook his head and sat back down.

"Now that we're done with the grim stuff, let's talk about something more interesting."

"Tom?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

Harry nodded.

"Does Tom know as much about you as you do about him?"

"He should," Dumbledore admitted reluctantly. "Back when he was in school, Grindelwald was at his peak. Tom must have heard some rumors."

"This was a trap for you," Harry looked toward the sealed cabinet.

"That unknown person impersonating Professor Moody—they let Voldemort know they'd been discovered."

"Voldemort still has some brains. He must have heard about the diary being destroyed in second year. He'd assume you knew about Horcruxes."

"If you knew about Horcruxes and were aware of the Death Eaters' schemes, you'd definitely investigate. The Gaunt shack couldn't stay hidden."

Harry paused, glancing at the worn-out floor.

"They used it as a hideout once. But once their spy was exposed, they abandoned it."

"Leaving the Horcrux behind."

"The feeble traps were meant to wear you down—make you lower your guard in the bedroom, where the ring would tempt you. The moment you put it on, maybe it would curse you, or maybe it was part of some ritual."

"The second you wore it, your head was already under Death's scythe."

Dumbledore sighed.

"Good thing you were with me."

Harry cut him off.

"You should be thanking Mr. Grindelwald."

"You locked him up in Nurmengard, yet he still deeply worries about his old lover. He wrote to me to warn me."

"The greatest Dark wizard, using the most sincere tone, begged an ordinary fourth-year student to save you."

Dumbledore opened his mouth.

Then closed it again.

Then sighed.

"Harry, you are far from ordinary."

Harry snorted.

"You can't even focus on the main point. Has your brain been eaten by Biting Cabbages?"

Dumbledore coughed exaggeratedly.

Then, softly—

"Harry, let me destroy it."

Harry smirked.

"The Biting Cabbage pries open your brain… then leaves in disappointment."

"We can't destroy it yet."

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Powerstones?

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