While Dumbledore was reading the documents, Vid brewed a fresh pot of black tea at his side; the billowing white steam blurred the contours of his thin profile, and the fragrance of tea spread silently through the quiet.
When he finished the last line and raised his eyes, Dumbledore suddenly realized that there was almost none of that childlike softness left on Vid's face; in its place was an almost austere outline, and angles that time had quietly honed.
The words about to leave his lips paused; he gently set the file down and said, in a mild voice, "I'm very glad you know why I've come, Vid, and I have never doubted the justice of your aims."
Vid set the black tea down in front of Dumbledore and said softly, "I'm sorry, Professor."
Dumbledore's gaze fell on the rippling surface of the tea. "Why apologize?" he asked.
"Because I knew perfectly well where the boundary lay, and still crossed it; I also know that private judgment and execution are themselves a trampling of order, yet I permitted my Poppet to do it."
Vid said in a low voice, "I'm very sorry, Professor. I've disappointed you."
Dumbledore was silent for a long time, only gazing at the faintly trembling reflection on the tea's surface, then letting his eyes shift to Vid's tousled black hair.
In that moment, the boy's gentle attitude as he took the initiative to admit his mistake moved Dumbledore far more than any attempt to argue his case ever could.
For an instant, his previous worries and muted fear seemed to disperse like thin smoke, and his taut mind eased.
After a moment, he looked at Vid, his gaze deep yet free of reproach. "True darkness never comes from the misuse of power, but from a dogmatic claim on justice. Vid, you've taken on too much, and have come to the edge of hard choices too quickly."
Here, the corners of his mouth pressed together slightly, and anger at certain people surged back into his eyes.
Then the old man softened his tone even further. "In fact, I also know that when one is faced with darkness rooted in power and greed, gentle methods can seem pale and feeble. And the Ministry of Magic… at many times they are bound by red tape and unable to curb the spread of such darkness."
"So, Vid, what you've done… is not wrong."
Vid lifted his head sharply, looking somewhat surprised.
Dumbledore couldn't help but smile. "What, in your eyes is Albus Dumbledore nothing more than an old stick-in-the-mud who follows rules to the letter?"
"Of course… of course not." Vid shook his head. "But I thought… you wouldn't want to see me do this. That you'd insist, er, on resisting with the right methods and so on."
"Ah, that is a requirement I place on myself, but I won't demand the same of you."
Dumbledore took a sip of hot tea and said with a touch of self-mockery, "Because I am afraid of losing myself to power, I keep constant watch over my own conduct."
"But for you, Vid, I hope to give you more freedom to choose your own path, instead of binding you with my standards."
"I also know," he turned his gaze toward the blank wall and said gently, "that sticking to established rules can at times seem… cowardly, and even foolish."
"But rather than unleash the beast in my heart, I would rather others see me as a muddle-headed, shackled old madman."
"But Professor," Vid said, "precisely because you always harbor reverence, it's impossible for you ever to become the sort of person you fear… isn't that so?"
Dumbledore gave him a helpless look, his expression somewhat complicated.
"So then, what do you plan to do next?" He set down his teacup. "Those people have already sensed the danger; they will likely be ruthless in severing every exposed tail, and will not give you another chance to catch them all in one net. It may even become much harder just to find their trail."
"In fact, sometimes the answer to a problem doesn't have to come from someone else's mouth."
Vid said calmly, clearly having thought it through long ago:
"Because the Harrington Family joined Prometheus, they gained access to certain covert intelligence and preferential resources, allowing their enterprise to expand rapidly in a short span of time."
He paused briefly, his gaze turning especially sharp.
"Benefits like these could not possibly be extended to the Harrington Clan alone. So if we can compile a list—"
"Of who, when crisis struck, weathered the storm alongside the Harrington Family;"
"Of who, when major opportunities arose, managed to seize them in time, even preparing in advance as though they were Prophets…"
"Then people like that, eight or nine times out of ten, will be members of Prometheus."
"In that way, all those we're searching for will have nowhere left to hide."
Attitudes and political stances can be disguised; even within a single company, there will at times be noisy, theatrical infighting in the marketplace. Yet any concealed relationship will be laid bare once it is deconstructed by numbers.
By seizing on the Harrington Family as a point of breakthrough, Vid believed he could follow this path paved by data straight to the deepest-hidden core of Prometheus.
"Since you already have a workable plan, there's not much left for me to advise you on."
Dumbledore held his warm teacup and blinked. "But Vid, you don't need to shoulder all of this alone. When you need… mm… the help of an 'old man who isn't overly scrupulous about rules,' you know where to find me."
"If necessary, I won't force myself to hold up everything alone." Vid smiled. "But for now… I can still manage the situation here, and Hogwarts needs you more."
Strictly speaking, so long as Dumbledore remained at Hogwarts, everything stayed calm; Voldemort was patient enough to continue laying out his plans, which made the headmaster's staying put seem almost superfluous.
Yet the moment that man was certain Dumbledore had left the United Kingdom, he would immediately take certain actions—
Infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, break into Hogwarts, or seize the chance to kill Harry Potter!
And these were all outcomes Dumbledore was absolutely unwilling to see.
Dumbledore sighed softly, then took an exquisite little cage from his pocket; inside was a short twig, and perched upon the twig a green, thorn-covered caterpillar.
Vid studied the thing, then looked at the headmaster in puzzlement.
"This is a helper I've borrowed for you from an old friend, Newt. It will… oh, look, it's awake."
Halfway through Dumbledore's words, the "caterpillar" in the cage suddenly unfurled a pair of blue wings, and like a moth no bigger than a thumb, it flew a circuit inside the cage.
Vid drew in a sharp breath. "This is… a Swooping Evil?"
Such distinctive colors and form, coupled with a body that could freely contract and expand, left an indelible impression.
Dumbledore chuckled. "It seems I don't need to introduce this little fellow after all."
"Yes." Vid carefully took the cage, his eyes shining as he looked at the creature inside. "I know the Swooping Evil—its venom, when diluted, can remove bad memories… and it's also highly resistant to Spells."
The Swooping Evil raised by Newt Scamander could even withstand Grindelwald's Spells at the height of his power! Among Magical Creatures classified as XXXXX, it stood in a class of its own.
Dumbledore smiled. "When Newt heard it was for you, he didn't hesitate to lend it to me… I imagine it will be of great help to you."
"Of course. Thank you, Professor." Vid traced a fingertip along the patterns on the cage; seeing the Swooping Evil press curiously up against his finger, he couldn't help but smile. "This helper has arrived at just the right moment."
"Remember, use power with caution, Vid," Dumbledore said. "But don't forget either—you have never been fighting alone."