svetikya Chapter 120 Dumbledore's Christmas
Chapter 120 Dumbledore's Christmas
Chapter 120 Dumbledore's Christmas
Late at night, outside an ordinary house in Dorset, dim lights shone through the windows onto the street, and two elderly men wrapped in robes sat on chairs in the yard.
"Mr. Scamander, I can only feel at ease entrusting this matter to you." Dumbledore said, gently picking up the coffee on the table and taking a sip.
"Professor Dumbledore—I've never cared for one before—a cursed blood orc." Newt pursed his lips nervously, one of his legs trembling slightly.
"But she is not only a cursed orc, but also our friend, Miss Nagini," Dumbledore said slowly. "Her condition is very bad."
"Hmm—" Newt nodded as well: "If she gets stimulated again—she might enter—enter that state again—"
As he spoke, he glanced at the leather suitcase he had placed on his lap, inside which Miss Nagini was.
"That's why I chose you, Mr. Scamander," Dumbledore said with complete trust. "She'll be very happy here."
After saying that, the two fell silent, with only occasional cheerful laughter coming from the room.
"So—" Newt suddenly coughed, raising his uneasy eyes to look at Dumbledore with a hint of curiosity: "So, what happened to Miss Nagini?"
"I don't know either," Dumbledore said frankly. "I haven't seen Miss Nagini since Paris."
"Nobody knows where she's been all these decades," Dumbledore said softly. "But it certainly hasn't been a pleasant journey."
"She—" Newt paused, then said, "She was under the Imperius Curse, wasn't she?"
"Yes." Dumbledore nodded gently. "It was Sister Hamilton who broke the spell on her."
"Ah—." Newt nodded thoughtfully. Of course he remembered the girl who visited with Miss Lovegood, but—wasn't she a student?
Newt looked at Dumbledore with a bit of a puzzlement, as if asking how a student could break the Imperius Curse.
"Miss Hamilton is not a student," Dumbledore said with a chuckle, seemingly realizing this. "She is a professor at Hogwarts."
Newt's eyes widened slightly. After a few seconds of silence, he resisted the urge to ask Dumbledore if he was employing child laborers. After all, Miss Hamilton was a half-Veele, and her bloodline was enough to keep her looking the same for a long time.
"Oh, right—" Newt's question seemed to remind Dumbledore, who nodded slightly and said, "Miss Hamilton may come to visit in a while."
"She cares a lot about Miss Nagini."
"I see—I see—" Newt nodded slightly, then said nothing more.
For a moment, the two fell into an awkward silence again.
Newt nervously counted on his fingers, while Dumbledore leisurely finished his coffee.
"Alright, Mr. Scamander," he said, gently setting down his coffee to break the silence. "I should be going now."
His words startled Newt slightly, and he instinctively said, "Would you like to—go inside and sit for a while?"
"It's almost dinnertime." "Then we mustn't disturb them." Dumbledore said with a gentle smile, "The children don't want to see the professor on the holidays."
"And—there are jobs at Hogwarts."
Hearing this, Newt didn't try to stop him. He got up with Dumbledore and walked with him to the courtyard gate.
"Oh, Mr. Scamander," Dumbledore said, turning back suddenly before stepping out of the courtyard, as if remembering something. "Please let me know when Miss Nagini has recovered enough—and don't ask her about Albania."
"Why—why?" Newt paused for a moment, though he wasn't really going to ask.
"It's nothing," Dumbledore shrugged. "It's just—I don't want to drag you into this."
"You know, the jungles of Albania aren't just home to magical relics and snakes."
Dumbledore smiled gently at Newt's somewhat bewildered expression: "Alright, that's all."
Merry Christmas, Mr. Scamander.
"You—you too—Professor Dumbledore."
Dumbledore nodded slightly, waved his wand, and when he opened his eyes again, he was back in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
The room was empty, quiet, and cozy. The crackling fireplace made him let out a soft sigh, and then he slowly sat down in the chair.
He looked like an ordinary old man, sitting by the fireplace enjoying the Christmas season.
"Pat-pat."
Suddenly, he heard an owl tapping on the window; it was an owl carrying a gift.
This was all too common for Dumbledore—he would receive countless gifts at Christmas, from friends, students, professors, and even occasionally, prank gifts from anonymous senders.
He gently waved his wand to open the window, then watched as the unusually small owl landed on the table.
He recognized the owl as Miss Hamilton's.
Dumbledore smiled gently as he watched it leave after dropping the box.
It was a gift box with slightly rough packaging, but without even opening it, he knew what was inside: a big bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
Dumbledore smiled and waved his wand, deftly unwrapping the gift.
He slowly peeled open a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean and put it in his mouth—
Ah—it smells like vomit.
He smiled gently and then peeled open another one.
It smelled like vomit again—Dumbledore, seemingly understanding something, smiled even more broadly.
"Ah—Albus?" McGonagall was somewhat surprised to see Dumbledore as she entered the Great Hall. She walked over, her expression serious and displeased. "You were supposed to attend the dinner tonight."
She said that she sat down next to Dumbledore.
"Sorry, Minerva," Dumbledore shrugged. "I've run into a little trouble."
"Is it related to Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked instinctively.
"No, not at all." Dumbledore shook his head and picked up a multi-flavored jelly. "Want to try some?"
"Ah—Albus, you know—" McGonagall was about to refuse, but seeing Dumbledore's smiling expression, she couldn't help but shake her head.
"What does it taste like?" Dumbledore asked impatiently as he watched her put the food in her mouth.
"Ugh—it smells like vomit." McGonagall frowned, revealing a slightly resentful expression.
"Hahahaha." Dumbledore laughed upon hearing this, and then, under McGonagall's confused gaze, gently waved his wand to collect the remaining Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
"Miss Hamilton is a very interesting person," he said slowly.
"It always gives people unexpected surprises."
"You mean the trouble we just had was related to her?" McGonagall asked instinctively.
"It's related, but not because of her." Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "However—what do you think about establishing a course on magic circles?"
"Huh?" McGonagall paused, not understanding what he meant.
"Ah—never mind, it's nothing." Dumbledore seemed to have thought of something else. He shook his head slightly, got up, and walked out of the Great Hall.
As he spoke, he added, "Merry Christmas, Leva."
"—"
"You too, Albus." McGonagall shook her head, watching him disappear before her eyes. Sometimes, even she didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking.
But regardless, Christmas at Hogwarts seems to have come to an end...
It seems that everyone has encountered quite a few things in the past few days.
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