Chapter 443: Urgent Surprise

Easter is a time for exchanging gifts, and around Wizard Sean, young wizards came and went, passing out colored eggs.

Owls were the same.

They flapped their wings, carrying letters in their beaks and delicate gift boxes in their talons.

Wizard Sean put all the gifts into the Wizard’s Book and idly glanced at the Daily Prophet that Bai Yi had sent.

Among the moving magical photographs, one name caught Wizard Sean’s full attention.

【Former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bob Ogden, has passed away…】

Bob Ogden.

The name felt familiar to Wizard Sean; he whispered a few words to Bai Yi, and when the silver-white owl reappeared, its talons now carried a Pensieve.

Wizard Sean tapped his wand, and threads of memory floated out.

But before he could make sense of who Bob Ogden was, Justin interrupted his thoughts.

“Wizard Sean, I keep feeling Headmaster Dumbledore is watching you.”

Justin said in a very low voice.

At this, Wizard Sean looked up—Headmaster Dumbledore was winking at him.

Then the old wizard with long, white whiskers opened a finely wrapped Easter egg, revealing a pair of wool socks and a pair of two-way mirrors.

They didn’t look like anything made in a workshop; the mirror backs bore elaborate phoenix reliefs and the engraved initials S.G.

Dumbledore’s whiskers trembled as he winked at Wizard Sean again, then left the Great Hall.

Wizard Sean thoughtfully pulled out the one gift that wasn’t elegantly wrapped.

“Very few wizards exchange gifts with Headmaster Dumbledore… you know, though he’s happy to receive presents, he rarely gives them back. Those wizards never expected to…”

Hermione popped up from nowhere, her expression serious.

Wizard Sean turned his head—Hermione quickly withdrew her curious gaze.

While Hermione struggled not to pry into her friend’s privacy, Wizard Sean had already left the Great Hall.

Inside Dumbledore’s Easter egg was only a note:

【Come to my office, child. It seems we must continue our bold guesses.】

Bold guesses…

Pondering this riddle, Wizard Sean knocked on the headmaster’s office door.

“Come in.”

It was Dumbledore’s voice.

“Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore.”

Wizard Sean stepped into the headmaster’s office.

“Ah, good evening, Wizard Sean. Sit down,”

Dumbledore said with a smile,

“Before your pleasant Easter holiday begins, I’d like to share something with you—a gift.”

“Bob Ogden.”

Wizard Sean murmured it unconsciously.

“You know about him? It seems we’re evenly matched in our investigation of Tom Riddle…”

“But can you tell me how stars speak?”

Dumbledore interlaced his ten fingers and narrowed his eyes.

“It’s a fairy tale, Headmaster Dumbledore. I think even in the magical world, stars don’t speak.”

Wizard Sean said.

“Who knows?”

Dumbledore teased kindly.

The round headmaster’s office looked just as usual:

On the slender-legged table sat many delicate silver objects, spinning and emitting thin puffs of smoke.

The portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses dozed in their frames. Dumbledore’s magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, perched on the branch behind the door, watching Wizard Sean with keen interest.

It was hard to imagine that even though Wizard Sean had quietly interacted with Fawkes nearly every week, the phoenix’s affection level had remained stuck at 【Apprentice】.

Perhaps, as Headmaster Dumbledore had said, phoenixes were creatures of extreme loyalty.

“Come now, child, I should share what I know—but I warn you, child, my ears are eager to hear your own wild ideas.

They’re old, but still sharp…

Though we’ve always done this, I’ll say it again.

From now on, we leave solid facts behind and journey together through the murky swamp of memory into the tangled thickets of bold guesses.

In this, Wizard Sean, I may make as tragic a mistake as Humphrey Belch, who once believed a cauldron could be made from cheese.”

Dumbledore said slowly.

“Guessing isn’t necessarily wrong—we’ll find the right path.”

Wizard Sean said.

“I naturally believe so too, but as I’ve already shown you, we make mistakes like ordinary people.

In fact, because we—forgive me—because I’m far cleverer than most, my mistakes are correspondingly more severe.”

After speaking, Dumbledore pulled out a crystal vial.

Wizard Sean knew—it was Bob Ogden’s memory.

At the same moment, the world fell silent; Wizard Sean couldn’t help but glance at Dumbledore’s left hand, only relaxing when he saw it wasn’t as withered as he’d feared.

Bob Ogden, a wizard who worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic.

His memories were crucial to understanding Voldemort’s origins, especially the decline and brutality of his maternal family—the Gaunts—and the early history of the Horcrux known as Marvolo Gaunt’s ring.

Wizard Sean didn’t know when Ogden had died, nor when Dumbledore had obtained his memory.

But he was certain that Headmaster Dumbledore had acquired the Gaunt ring only between his fourth and fifth years.

Now, whether it was the diary of the Chamber of Secrets, Ravenclaw’s diadem, or Slytherin’s locket that had led Dumbledore to uncover more traces of Horcruxes, the headmaster had turned his attention to Bob Ogden’s memory ahead of schedule.

This meant Wizard Sean had to accept change—and begin his plan earlier.

“Let’s walk down the path of Bob Ogden’s memory. Today, we have an appointment with Bob Ogden.”

Dumbledore pulled the cork from the crystal vial and poured the silver substance into the Pensieve; it began to swirl slowly, emitting a faint glow—neither liquid nor gas.

The two exchanged glances; Dumbledore’s deep eyes sensed something different.

He smiled, then watched as Wizard Sean plunged headfirst into the silver substance.

Wizard Sean’s feet seemed to leave the ground; he fell through swirling darkness, falling, falling.

Suddenly, blinding sunlight made Wizard Sean squint.

Before his eyes could adjust, Dumbledore landed beside him.

They stood on a country path, flanked by tall, tangled hedges, above them a summer sky as clear and blue as forget-me-nots.

About ten paces ahead stood a short, stout man.

He wore glasses with exceptionally thick lenses, his eyes reduced to two tiny dots, like a mole’s.