The lake at midnight was like a pitch-black mirror, and the shadowy figures pacing the shore seemed to be transparent ghosts, teasing the eyes of onlookers with moonlight.
Hesitation lasted only a moment, and Vid swiftly grabbed the broomstick leaning against the window. With a flip, he jumped out of the window and descended, broomstick in hand!
The night wind instantly filled his robe, and the broomstick carried Vid in a rapid dive downward. Two seconds into the plunge, the descent's slope suddenly softened. He traced an arc and gently landed on the soft soil by the lakeside.
The thin mist dispersed, and as Vid's feet touched the ground, he realized that the figure had vanished without a trace, leaving only a few slender reeds gently swaying.
It was as if the figure he saw earlier was merely a mirage of his blurred vision.
Vid slightly squinted his eyes, lightly pushed against the ground with his feet, maneuvered his broomstick, and slowly flew around the lake.
Hogwarts cannot perform Apparition—except for Dumbledore—no matter how fast that person was, it was impossible to vanish completely from the lakeside in the blink of an eye.
"What are you searching for, Vid?"
A gentle voice suddenly sounded from behind him, Vid spun around abruptly, seeing silver whiskers gleaming under the moonlight and those thoughtful, azure eyes watching him.
Dumbledore appeared from the grass behind him, as if he had materialized from the night.
Vid instinctively glanced upward first, then lowered his gaze, "Can't sleep... seemed like there was someone strolling by the lake earlier, just wanted to come and see."
Dumbledore looked at him, his gaze gentle mixed with some understanding, "Still worried about that skeleton?"
He patted Vid's shoulder and said, "You don't have to shoulder these matters now. Rest well, other things will be handled by us adults."
"Professor..." Vid hesitated for a moment and asked, "Do you think this matter... might involve any of the school's professors?"
"Oh?" Dumbledore smiled, "It seems that being neighbors with Alastor, even your way of thinking has become like his?"
Vid asked, "Does Professor Moody have any suspects?"
"He suspects everyone... including me," Dumbledore said with a tone of laughter.
"Professor..." Vid said helplessly, "I trust Professor Moody didn't use those exact words."
"Trust me, that's almost what he said."
Dumbledore lightly stroked his beard and said, "And I told him, I have absolute trust in every professor at the school."
Vid understood that this statement was also meant for him.
"I understand, seems like I overthought." Vid exhaled slowly, "I'll head back to sleep... Goodnight, Professor."
Dumbledore said with a smile, "Sweet dreams, child."
The broom began to float off the ground, and as it was about to accelerate, Vid pressed it down again.
He paused for a moment, then turned and asked, "Professor Dumbledore... Have you been strolling by the lake as well?"
"Ah, that's right," Dumbledore said in a light-hearted tone, "I felt a bit heated tonight, taking in the cool breeze helps clear my mind."
Vid nodded, turned away, but suddenly a phrase emerged in his mind—
A carefully crafted truth is the most skillful lie.
Even if he couldn't see clearly from the tower, could he not recognize the figure cloaked in night by the lake as Dumbledore?
Even if he couldn't discern the appearance, just by the silhouette, he wouldn't mistake Dumbledore for someone else.
Moreover... the hair and beard of that figure weren't as long as Dumbledore's, he surely wouldn't see that wrong.
...
The chilly night wind swept across the lake surface, causing the reeds and branches to sway as if someone were whispering silently.
Dumbledore stood by the lake, watching Vid's figure disappear into the castle's window, then turned around, heading in another direction.
The wind lifted his silver hair and long beard, as if afraid of the cold, the headmaster raised his wide hood, walking slowly.
A moment later, he suddenly said in a low voice, "Every person who changes the era starts only as a child."
The night wind rose abruptly, the leaves rustling, grass and flower petals spiraled past Dumbledore's feet.
The wind carried a string of whispers:
I once thought you were the one to break the shackles, Albus. You possess wisdom and strength, yet you've locked yourself away.
"I failed..." Dumbledore maintained a composed expression as he walked forward, his lips moving, "I'm very sorry."
Despite saying sorry, his face showed only a peaceful fatigue.
I am not here to blame you.
"I know." Dumbledore sighed lightly, "But I'm old... many years ago, I had already grown old, lacking the strength to continue struggling..."
He turned his gaze toward the castle.
There, scattered lights twinkled like stars.
"I can only pin hopes on the next generation... call it escape or cowardice... but time will prove everything..."
That child is different from you back then... he seems deeply entangled with the darkness.
"How is that any different?" Dumbledore retorted with a light chuckle, "I too... was deeply fascinated by the darkness."
The whispers in the night wind vanished, as if someone showed a silent yet helpless expression.
Dumbledore let out a low laugh like a child who had won a game.
If this time... it ends in failure too?
"Then let failure be failure." Dumbledore said with utmost ease, "One person... cannot combat the magical world's illnesses accumulated over millennia, what's there to be surprised about?"
Silence spread through the air, only the lake water gently lapping the shore, creating a rhythmic sound.
The reflection of the broken moon in the water is constantly shattered and reunited, and near the shore, the lone silhouette of Dumbledore is reflected in the lake, beside it, another elusive figure appears.
That figure was tall and imposing, almost equal in stature to Dumbledore. Silver hair cascaded over the shoulders, faint hints of dark golden shimmered on the deep-colored robe.
The wind passed by, causing ripples on the water surface. By the time it settled again, that elusive figure had vanished.
Dumbledore gazed at the deep night sky, as though time had frozen beside him.
...
Sunlight streamed through the corridor windows, creating the Tyndall effect, beams of light outlined the shape of dust in the air, like countless drifting mayflies.
This time, Vid arrived about half an hour early outside the Alchemy classroom, the door ajar, with Professor Morry's deep voice lecturing inside.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes swept over the forest-like beams of light, then through the window, watching the scene in the classroom:
A few students sat by stone tables, fully absorbed in attempting today's assignment—creating a Magic Book.