Chapter 96: Conversation with Dumbledore

Hermione felt a warm sensation in her wound, then was astonished to see the cut on her finger completely healed, not a trace left—only the dried blood reminded her it had been injured just moments ago...

“Look, I healed it for you!” came Allen’s cheerful voice from beside her.

Hermione looked up and saw Allen beaming at her, his face lit with a brilliant smile, his eyes still slightly red, tears still streaked across his cheeks...

It was a beautiful moment, but Hermione found she had no heart to appreciate it—only a sudden, inexplicable rage surged to her head...

She sharply snatched her hand away from Allen, stormed off in anger, snatched up the half-peeled apple on her way to the door, and hurled it into the trash before slamming the door shut behind her...

Allen stared after her, bewildered. “She was fine just now—why did she suddenly turn like this?”

But Allen quickly set the matter aside, for Professor McGonagall entered at that moment, also frowning at the direction Hermione had vanished.

“What happened to Granger? I’ve never seen her this angry—she even seemed hurt...” Professor McGonagall regarded Allen with suspicion.

Only then did Allen realize his cheeks were still wet with tears, his nose still clogged from crying—he quickly sniffed twice.

Professor McGonagall’s brow furrowed further as she studied Allen’s appearance and behavior.

“I don’t know, Professor—are you here to see me?” Allen said quickly, then realized his voice still carried a nasal tone.

Professor McGonagall’s frown deepened; her lips pressed tightly together. She seemed about to say something to Allen, but ultimately held back—she remembered why she had come.

“Finis, how are you feeling?” Professor McGonagall stepped quickly to Allen’s bedside.

“I heard about last night—Potter nearly died. It was terrifying!” Professor McGonagall said, still shaken.

“Madam Pomfrey’s potions worked wonders—I’ve fully recovered. My injuries weren’t serious at all!” Allen replied cheerfully, then leapt off the bed and moved about to prove he was completely well.

“Professor Dumbledore wants to speak with you,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Now?” Allen was not the least surprised by this moment’s arrival.

“Yes, he’s waiting for you in his office. If you’re ready, we can go now!” Professor McGonagall looked at Allen.

“All right—I actually have a lot I want to say to Professor Dumbledore.” Allen had already donned his wizard’s robe.

At last, Professor McGonagall noticed the unusual quality of Allen’s eyes. “Your eyes look different today—they feel strangely familiar,” she observed closely.

“We can discuss that later—didn’t you say Professor Dumbledore is waiting?” Allen smiled at her.

“By the way, I have a document for you to review.” Allen pulled out a parchment and handed it to Professor McGonagall—it had been prepared long ago, and now he could finally submit it.

Professor McGonagall took the parchment with a frown, unrolled it, and saw at the top: “Some Improvements to the Lumos Spell.”

She read the entire parchment in stunned silence, then swiftly drew her wand, cast the Lumos Spell, and summoned a pure white orb of light that cleanly detached from her wand tip and floated gently through the air...

“It’s real! I can’t remember the last time I heard of a spell being invented or improved!”

“The last official Ministry announcement of a spell improvement was fifty-three years ago.”

“But I suspect someone has invented or refined spells privately—they just never publicize them,” Allen added.

“This is truly remarkable. Even though you’ve only improved Lumos, every spell improvement offers invaluable insight—it can guide future refinements! Hogwarts will be proud of you. I must tell Professor Dumbledore immediately—he’ll be proud too!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed excitedly.

“All right!” Allen said, and followed Professor McGonagall out of the infirmary...

Professor McGonagall brought Allen to the Headmaster’s office; the portraits were unusually quiet.

Professor McGonagall eagerly handed the parchment to Professor Dumbledore, who, after reading it, gave Allen a startled glance.

“I’d like to speak privately with Mr. Finis,” Professor Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall.

“Of course, Headmaster!” Professor McGonagall, still lost in delight, paid no mind to the dismissal.

The Headmaster’s office fell silent once more.

“Let’s talk while we drink. What would you like, Mr. Finis?” Professor Dumbledore asked patiently.

“Some tea will do,” Allen replied quickly.

After sipping some tea, the conversation began in earnest.

“Mr. Finis, to be honest, you’ve surprised me more than anyone this year. For a man who has lived over a hundred years, few things still astonish me,” said Professor Dumbledore, his blue eyes fixed intently on Allen through his half-moon spectacles.

Allen’s mind flashed through the events of the year—he was now certain Professor Dumbledore was a cunning old fox. This single remark carried hidden weight; Allen had to be on his guard.

“I’m honored,” Allen replied calmly—he was ready today to confess much.

“Then what would you like to tell me?”

Allen then recounted, in full detail, his complex relationship with Professor Quirrell—since the moment Quirrell turned to ash, the cold dread in his heart had vanished...

He hadn’t expected he’d break the Unbreakable Vow with such a crude, direct method.

Professor Dumbledore listened patiently; when Allen described Quirrell teaching him the Cruciatus Curse, his expression finally shifted.

Allen, sensing the gravity, elaborated thoroughly—Professor Dumbledore’s face grew increasingly solemn.

When Allen finished this part, Professor Dumbledore signaled him to pause.

“Voldemort is a genius—pity he used his genius in the wrong direction,” Professor Dumbledore said with regret.

Allen nodded in agreement.

“I heard long ago that Voldemort perfected several Dark Magic spells, becoming a Supreme Spellcaster. Now it seems these rumors were not baseless,” Professor Dumbledore murmured.

Allen sharply noticed the new term in Professor Dumbledore’s words—his curiosity flared instantly.

“Professor, what is a Supreme Spellcaster?”