"Professor? Professor Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore felt someone calling him. He sensed a hand reaching out, gently tugging at his sleeve.
"Are you asleep, Professor Dumbledore?"
Abruptly, Dumbledore snapped back to reality. The dreary gray tower bricks vanished, as did the visage of Grindelwald, replaced by the warm and comfortable ambiance of the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. The fire crackled softly on his right-hand side.
In front of him, a fair-haired young girl gazed at him intently, her eyes filled with concern and puzzlement.
"You're right, Gellert..."
Dumbledore murmured almost inaudibly, his gaze studying Elena intently.
Undoubtedly, apart from being "her," the half-blood enchantress before him almost entirely matched Grindelwald's prophecy. She was even more powerful, more intelligent, younger, and less confined by conventional thinking.
But the crux of the matter lay— the old man glanced at his own wrinkled, veined right hand— in his uncertainty about whether he had enough time left to guide her in the right direction.
Seeing Dumbledore come to, Elena breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Earlier, on a whim, she had extended her conversation with Dumbledore to touch upon basic natural sciences like physics, chemistry, and mathematics. However, she noticed the elderly wizard zoning out, almost startling her.
After all, who knew if the wizarding world had conditions like senility or strokes? What if she rambled and somehow caused harm to the most powerful contemporary white wizard? Elena figured that before she could even leave this castle, professors alerted by the news would apprehend and eliminate her.
"Well, Professor Dumbledore, if there's nothing else, I won't disturb you. We'll meet when school starts, alright?"
Glancing at the contemplative Dumbledore, Elena drained the pumpkin juice in her hand in one go, then timidly spoke.
Though unclear about the situation, based on her intuition, staying further might not be a wise choice.
Dumbledore raised a hand to stroke his chin, his gaze behind the crescent-shaped lenses reflecting contemplation.
"I recall our previous agreement. If you manage to attain the highest scores across all subjects, after your fourth year, the Ministry will facilitate your enrollment in a Muggle school in the United States."
The silver-haired girl lifted her head alertly. "Professor Dumbledore, you are the greatest wizard in the world. You wouldn't go back on your word, would you?"
"On the contrary..."
Dumbledore shook his head, speaking softly. "I've contemplated. If you temporarily leave Hogwarts after the fourth year, to ensure your talents aren't wasted, during these four years, I'll do my best to persuade other professors. We'll supplement some extra courses in your spare time."
No one is born all-knowing. To become a seasoned wizard inevitably requires a prolonged process of learning and practice.
Dumbledore believed that rather than adhering strictly to Hogwarts' usual flexible curriculum, it was better to guide and accompany Elena as much as possible during her growth.
This way, he could continually gauge and monitor her character development and magical prowess, safeguarding her maximally to prevent a fate like Grindelwald or Tom Riddle's, lost to overpowering dark magic.
"Hey... Hey?!"
Elena's cute face froze momentarily, then she immediately realized—this was remedial class?!
Weren't foreigners inclined towards joyful education? Yet, here they were in the magical world, dealing with these detestable, child-nature-defying post-school remedial classes!
"Um, well, professors already work so hard every day. Maybe I shouldn't trouble them. I can study on my own from books and ask professors when I don't understand..."
Initially, upon entering Hogwarts, Elena had envisioned a time of fun, games, and leisure. Now, facing Dumbledore's serious demeanor, she made every effort to dismiss his dangerous proposal.
"Furthermore, regarding your formidable magical talent, I hope at least once a week, you could come to the Headmaster's office for at least an hour of magical control practice in the future."
Dumbledore continued gently, almost as if he hadn't heard the silver-haired young girl, though he used the word "hope," his tone carried an undeniable sense of necessity.
"Wait, I haven't agreed to the previous matter! Why add another condition? What's this peculiar requirement for magical control practice? Can't you listen properly?!"
Feeling her words disregarded, the half-blood enchantress puffed her cheeks in anger. Her fair, tender hand waved back and forth in front of the old wizard, these demands resembling detention more than anything else.
In Elena's perception, Dumbledore, always depicted as gentle and approachable, suddenly turned stern. His two azure eyes felt like piercing blades on her face.
"Believe me, this is for your own good. You must agree!"
"Hmph! Then I won't study at Hogwarts! Do you think I'm fond of those magical creatures and magic? Not at all! I... hate... being... forced!"
Hearing Dumbledore's compelling words, Elena felt a surge of anger. Standing up, she shouted angrily at Dumbledore—she detested most the phrase "for your own good," followed closely by remedial classes.
A faint golden glow emanated from the girl's silver locks. The tea set and cups in the room trembled slightly with Elena's words, emitting clinking sounds. A sudden whirlwind rose from under Elena's feet, tossing small items in the room around.
Porcelain cups lifted off tables, crashing against walls and shattering. The faint flames in the fireplace surged suddenly, casting erratic shadows in the room.
The intense burst of magic made Dumbledore recall a time many years ago, beside Grindelwald, the young man with the same "Dumbledore" surname inducing a suffocating pressure. Even compared to that child, this situation felt more suffocating.
The old man silently glanced at the girl, who resembled an angry kitten with her fur on end. After a moment's thought, he laid down his wand, stood, and walked over to Elena, squatting down. He picked up a stray candy from the floor, unwrapped it, took the girl's hand gently, and placed it in her palm.
Then, facing the girl's hostile and guarded gaze, Dumbledore extended his wrinkled hand, patting her head lightly. With a warm smile tinged with apology, he softly uttered,
"Don't be afraid. I only want to help you."