"Ah, I see, I have a general understanding now."
Amidst the mournful cries of Fawkes, the stern rebuke from the Sorting Hat, and the chattering portraits, Dumbledore quickly pieced together what had transpired in the headmaster's office in just a short span of minutes.
Glancing at the serene figure seated on the vine chair, Elena, who looked both demure and attentive, sipping her chilled pumpkin juice quietly, Dumbledore rubbed his forehead with a hint of concern.
During his many years teaching at Hogwarts, he had encountered quite a few peculiar students.
But someone like Elena, who could be as obedient and well-behaved as a model student at times and yet as audacious as a mischief-maker at others, was an entirely new encounter for him.
At least in the extensive history of Hogwarts, she was definitely the first to dare to stew the owl delivering school letters. And with this scene unfolding before him, Dumbledore suddenly realized that she might become even more formidable after stepping into the magical world.
"Miss Kaslana, it seems you have a rather unique interpretation of the term 'food.'"
Combining Professor McGonagall's account of the missing owl incident, Dumbledore found himself entertaining a strange conjecture.
In the eyes of this seemingly obedient young girl, perhaps everything in the world was crudely divided into two categories—things one could eat and things one couldn't.
"However, this behavior actually..."
Pausing for a moment, Dumbledore chose his words delicately, contemplating how to gently guide the girl to understand the issue. Veela heritage was truly a headache—exceptional magical talent coupled with extreme sensitivity and uncontrollable aggression.
"I was wrong."
Before Dumbledore could finish, Elena blinked, set down her chilled pumpkin juice, and earnestly, with a serious expression, responded. The radiant moonlight that once adorned her face had faded into a thin veil.
"I'm not accusing you, just..."
Dumbledore's tone faltered, he shook his head, slightly shifting gears, gently continuing.
Based on his years of teaching experience, merely emphasizing or reprimanding a student's fault, aside from venting one's own anger, didn't truly help these children find the right path.
Discussing issues from the standpoint of an elder friend was much more effective than imposing authority as a professor.
And this was something Dumbledore took great pride in; he always managed to become friends with all his students.
Well, at least until today.
"I know where I went wrong!" Elena interrupted once more.
"Um, not..."
Dumbledore's smile froze slightly, raising his hand instinctively to say something.
"A phoenix is a friend to humans!"
"What I did was extremely wrong!"
"I'm deeply regretful and remorseful for everything I've caused!"
"I just momentarily lost control; I promise I won't do it again next time!"
"..."
With her hands resting on her knees, the silver-haired young girl swiftly and impeccably engaged in self-reflection, almost like firing off a series of statements.
Her delicate face displayed vivid and firm expressions as she systematically outlined her mistakes and proposed ways to rectify them.
So much so that even Dumbledore found himself momentarily at a loss for words, just awkwardly moving his lips.
Amidst the peculiar silence in the room, apart from the murmurs of the curious headmaster portraits on the wall, there lingered the faint, mournful sobs of Fawkes.
Dumbledore reached out, gently stroking the magnificent golden-red bird lying beside him. He keenly sensed a noticeable tremor in Fawkes the moment he touched him, indicating that the impact of Elena on Fawkes' psyche was more significant than he had imagined.
But the key question was: How did she manage it?
Dumbledore idly rubbed his wand with his index finger, his deep blue eyes filled with puzzlement.
Logically speaking, a mature phoenix like Fawkes shouldn't have been so easily captured by a young girl who hadn't even learned magic yet, let alone be distressed to this extent.
This was the only aspect he couldn't comprehend after hearing all the "accounts" of what had occurred in the room. If a phoenix could be easily subdued, the magical world wouldn't classify it as a XXXX-rated (dangerous/ requiring special knowledge/ skilled wizards required) magical creature.
Though by assessments, the actual danger level of Veela might exceed that of regular magical creatures, it primarily manifested in sensitivity and irritability rather than prowess in hunting.
Furthermore, according to Newt Scamander's research, the most crucial point was that all predators needed to instill a sense of imminent death in their prey. And a phoenix, from the start, was an extraordinary being fearless of death.
"Speaking of... Dumbledore, don't you think your phoenix's demeanor is rather peculiar?"
At this moment, Phyllida Spore, indirectly involved in the chaos, broke the room's silence. [Headmaster Portrait (see footnote)]
Demeanor? Dumbledore furrowed his brows, carefully observing Fawkes. For the first time, those beautiful large eyes displayed a palpable expression of fear and unease, as if an animal had encountered a formidable natural enemy.
Wait... a natural enemy?
Dumbledore suddenly recalled a story shared by Newt Scamander years ago upon his return to school, recounting observations of magical creatures and mentioning a particular magical trait. (Character details here)
A highly rare magical trait found only in certain powerful magical creatures.
During his extensive study of magical creatures, Newt Scamander discovered that some magically potent creatures would birth unique individuals.
Though their abilities varied significantly based on their species, they all exhibited one striking commonality.
They naturally exuded an inexplicable intimidation when facing their prey—similar to how some carnivorous creatures in the non-magical world caused their prey to freeze out of fear due to their predatory aura.
However, when such a scenario occurred among magical creatures, it wasn't just a physical stiffness; it involved a mysterious entanglement that could even affect the magical abilities of the prey.
Newt Scamander termed these unique individuals "predators." Their dietary range often exceeded the average for their species by at least twofold.
If he had had the chance to consult Elton, a British animal ecologist from the same period, perhaps he could have offered a more accurate explanation—a being at the top of the food chain within its species, a born hunting leader.
Thinking about this, Dumbledore inadvertently glanced at the seemingly harmless Elena, feeling a bizarre sensation.
Surely, this young girl couldn't be associated with any predator, even if she indeed possessed half-Veela lineage. While Veela posed dangers in sensitivity and temper, their hunting abilities were not extensively developed, especially in their attack potential.
Moreover, as per Newt Scamander's research, the most critical point was that all predators' intimidation required making the prey feel the threat of death. And a phoenix was inherently a creature unafraid of death.
"Unless..."
Dumbledore lifted his head, a faint silvery glint flashing in his eyes, suddenly asking, "Elena, if I were to give you Fawkes, have you thought about what you'd do? Suppose... um, initially, it might not listen to you."
Give it to her? Elena looked somewhat puzzled, casting a glance at the huddled golden-red bird beside Dumbledore.
"Of course, I'd just cut a wing every day and
wait for it to..."
The absent-minded girl started to reply, but halfway through, she abruptly bit her tongue.
"Ugh, I mean, I'd feed it a slice of fish every day, make it grow plump, and gradually build a bond."
Indeed!
Dumbledore's expression suddenly turned serious. He could feel a subtle disruption in Fawkes' magic the moment Elena focused her attention on the phoenix.
The question was, was it a predator trait stemming from her Veela bloodline, or...
Dumbledore couldn't help but shudder. This child might be more dangerous than he had imagined.