Dumbledore miscalculated Amosta's reaction.

He thought that when he said his guess, Amosta would be anxious, would be furious, and would fall into irrepressible fear, but in fact, Amosta was unexpectedly calm, and this calm was not a disguise of Occlumency, Dumbledore, who had lived for more than a hundred years, thought he could tell.

What has he been through, what has he hidden, and why has he been able to remain so calm?

Dumbledore was desperate to get to the bottom of these questions.

"Let's discuss them one by one, Headmaster Dumbledore." Amosta rubbed his eyebrows and said with a slightly tired look.

"Of course—"

Dumbledore said with a smile.

Counting the first half of the year, it was also a long time for Amosta to re-enter Hogwarts, and his habits had been clearly felt, Dumbledore stood up and popped out the wand in his sleeve and waved, and on the thin-legged desk, a cup of hot green tea appeared in front of Amosta, and he prepared a glass of honey water for himself,

"Allow me to recommend you a very interesting and delicious food, Amosta--"

Although both of them knew that the current situation was relatively bad, Dumbledore, who had been accustomed to seeing strong winds and waves all his life, had developed extremely tenacity, he shook his sleeves, turned around and took a jar from the table where the Sorting Hat was resting, and said to Amosta happily,

"The owner of Duke Honey's candy shop, Cicelón Haggis, and I have a bit of a relationship, and he knows my hobby, so he often asks someone to bring me some new products from the store for me to taste..."

As he spoke, Dumbledore opened the lid, rolled up his sleeves and reached down to fumble his hand, but after a long time of stirring, his hand did not retract.

"Are you catching bugs, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Looking at the strange Dumbledore, Amosta also laughed, but soon he couldn't laugh anymore,

"Oh, yes, these little ones are so sharp beyond imagination--"

Dumbledore winked at Amosta, and the next second, the hand that had been in the jar retracted with a desperately struggling thing that was chirping, and handed it to Amosta, whose face darkened, as if offering a treasure.

"The name of this candy is Cockroach Heap, and its inventor, Mr. Haggis, is hesitant to introduce it to the inhabitants of the wizarding world."

"I think Mr. Haggis does need to think about it,"

Amosta put aside his face and said in disgust,

"By the way, I think he still needs to go to St. Mungo's to get his brain checked."

"Oh, it looks like we can't come to a consensus--"

DUMBLEDORE SAID REGRETFULLY, AND HE HAPPILY THREW THE REALISTIC-LOOKING CANDY OUT OF HIS MOUTH IN FRONT OF THE CHILLING AMOSTA, SQUEAKING, SQUINTING AND CHEWING HAPPILY, UNTIL A FEW SECONDS LATER, DUMBLEDORE'S FACE FROZE.

"This little guy may have taken one of my teeth..."

Dumbledore said 'painfully',

"And I think I swallowed it in my stomach, oh, what a loss."

You've got enough, old fellow, there's no end to the treasure juggling, is it?!

The atmosphere in the office was a little livelier than before, with Dumbledore and Amosta leaning back in their chairs each holding their own drinks, as if they were discussing tomorrow's weather.

Call--

Blowing the heat dissipating air, taking a sip of bitter tea, feeling the wonderful taste of the bitter burning throat heat flowing into the stomach, Amosta breathed a sigh of relief,

"Your previous guess, Headmaster Dumbledore, I noticed that your description was: 'vaguely aware of a power that does not belong to me'... So, that said, you're not sure if it's a shardpiece of some wizard's soul, or rather, a Horcrux? ”

"We all know what the essence of a Horcrux is, Amosta,"

Dumbledore tilted his head and stared at the colorful patterns on the circular dome and said,

"A stripped soul protected by powerful and evil magic..., each person's soul is as unique as our magic, unless that soul belongs to you, they can only cling to each other and cannot merge."

"You mean, what you're observing is that thing and my soul are mixed together?"

"I think so."

Dumbledore looked at Amosta, as if to confirm that his judgment had not been wrong,

"It's very intimate, it's in your soul... It's like "

Dumbledore hesitated, as if wondering how to describe what he had seen to Amosta, and his eyes wandered to the green tea in Amosta's hand,

"It's like two drinks that are different colors and don't dissolve into each other... Of course, we still can't rule out the possibility that it is a soul fragment, because my speculation is only theoretical, and we can't really understand the most esoteric dark magic of the Horcruxes. ”

Amosta bowed slightly, agreeing with Dumbledore's assessment of Horcruxes.

Indeed, in the wizarding world today, the person with the deepest knowledge of Horcruxes is Voldemort, not him and Albus Dumbledore.

Memory, and memory.

Dumbledore fell silent, and Amosta was silent, thinking dullly.

Whether it was a Horcrux or anything else, the 'foreign object' in Amosta's soul was undoubtedly the work of a wizard, and he had no memory of it.

"If you really don't know anything about this--"

Dumbledore looked at Amosta and hesitated,

"If you allow..."

"Thank you for your kindness, Headmaster Dumbledore--"

Amosta interrupted Dumbledore's words first, and he responded to Dumbledore's gaze and moved the corners of his mouth,

"I'm not going to allow anyone to check my memory."

Dumbledore was not surprised by Amosta's answer, of course, even the closest companion could not bear to know all his memories.

Whether what was in Amosta's soul was a piece of soul or something else, based on the information they had so far, it was impossible to make an accurate guess, but there were some things that they could at least confirm.

For--

The bottom of the glass bottle made a crisp sound against the tabletop, and the portraits of the former headmasters on the walls invariably inhaled the cool air just by staring at the bottle that was already completely dark.

"I've been exposed to your nose countless times over the years, Headmaster Dumbledore,"

Recalling the unexplained throbbing in his heart when he summoned the Patronus on the Quidditch pitch earlier, Amosta's gaze pointed to Dumbledore, who was solemnly looking at the Dementors, one of the most evil creatures in the wizarding world, and said slowly,

"But you didn't notice anything strange about the Dementors until I summoned the Patronus when I faced the Dementors..."

"I see what you mean, Amosta."

Dumbledore sighed slightly,

"The origin of the Dementor as a creature that cannot be destroyed by mana, even if the Patronus can only suppress and cannot be destroyed, has been inconclusive in the wizarding world, according to some records, some people believe that the fifteenth-century dark wizard Ekstis created the Dementor, but according to some records within the Ministry of Magic, the predecessor of the Ministry of Magic, the investigators of the Royal Academy of Magic and Wizardry found some clues when they landed on the small island of Azkaban, it seems that this creature has been living there for a long time...

We don't know exactly when it appeared, or if it was a magical creature derived from nature, or if it was the whim of a dark wizard...

Oh, but as it stands, it's likely that they've been artificially created, and of course, you've probably thought that their makers have some kind of mysterious connection to you, but doesn't make sense? ”

Dumbledore looked at Amosta worriedly and said,

"Even if the horrible creature that robs people of their happiness is the work of that dark wizard in the fifteenth century, why would it have anything to do with you?"



Reading Pavilion