It's midnight, on the eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle.
This is a spacious and bright circular room, with dry firewood burning loudly in the fireplace. The walls of the room are covered with portraits of the past principals in the castle, and they are currently sleeping with their eyes closed.
Weird instruments were whirring on the table, spitting out bursts of smoke from time to time. The Sorting Hat, which has initially acquired self-awareness, is chattering nonsense, but except for the occasional chirping of the phoenix standing on the golden perch, no one responds to it.
A tall old man is leaning on the table at the moment. He holds a yellow and green quill in his hand, marking stacks of parchment. His long silver beard and white hair It's almost dragging to the ground.
As the principal of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the president of the International Federation of Wizards, and the chief wizard of the Wizengamot, Dumbledore has countless documents to read and countless events to deal with every day. What's more, he sometimes needs to take time out to deal with some matters related to the wizard association he has just reorganized.
"Why don't you believe that I have self-awareness?" the Sorting Hat asked Dumbledore. This was the thirty-seventh time it had asked Dumbledore this hour.
"Dumbledore, why don't you answer my words?" The hat continued to launch a verbal attack on Dumbledore, and implicated a former headmaster on the wall. "If it is Phineas Nigellus Black, this little It’s okay if the bad guy doesn’t answer, we all know he’s not good at alchemy, he only uses his wand to punish those Muggle-born students!”
A few sneers came from the wall, whether it was from Delis Derwent or Eupracia Moore. Phineas Black, who had his eyes closed in the portrait, had the muscles on his face twitching uncontrollably a few times, but he still did not put down his body to argue with the Sorting Hat.
"But you're not like that!" said the hat, "Dumbledore, you and Nicolas Flamel have been good friends for so long, and you have such high achievements in alchemy, you shouldn't be uninterested in such a strange situation, right? ?”
"Dumbledore?"
"Little Dengtou?"
"White beard?"
"Okay! Hat!" Dumbledore put down the quill in his hand with a headache, and then pinched his sour brow. He felt that he was really exhausted physically and mentally at this time.
Dumbledore has recently been busy dealing with the replacement of ministers of the British Ministry of Magic. The former minister Millicent resigned because of his age. He wanted to go home and educate his newly born child while his old bones could still move. grandson.
But what you need to know is that even Millicent, who claims to be old, is more than thirty years younger than Dumbledore!
Most people are still immersed in Dumbledore's great fame and unparalleled strength, ignoring that he is actually one hundred and ten years old this year. Although wizards generally live longer than Muggles, people over a hundred years old are considered very old no matter where they are!
Dumbledore stood up, wrapped the parchment written in an envelope and threw it into the fireplace in the room. The letter, which will later be delivered to the Minister's Office at the Ministry of Magic, states that Dumbledore supports Cornelius Fudge's decision to serve as the new Minister of Magic.
Dumbledore turned and walked to a shelf behind his desk, where the Sorting Hat was currently sitting. Although he has gained self-awareness, the Sorting Hat is still just a hat. It cannot mend itself or teach itself to walk.
The most important thing is that it still can't bathe itself!
The Sorting Hat had emphasized to Dumbledore nearly six hundred times about bathing itself in the past two days. It could not understand how it had worked under such a dirty appearance in the previous thousand years.
"Hat, listen to me..." Before Dumbledore could finish his words, the oak door of the principal's office was suddenly pushed open, and the Slytherin headmaster in black robes had an expressionless expression on his face. Dead Face strode into the principal's office.
"Severus, what's wrong?" Dumbledore put on his glasses and turned to look at Snape, who was obviously in a bad mood.
Although I don’t know how Dumbledore could tell that Snape was in a bad mood through his emotionless face, he was the principal of Hogwarts after all! It should be better to have more magic power.
"Dumbledore! Have you heard about it? The child we discussed after the opening party?" Snape stood in front of his desk. Although he was asking questions, his voice was as steady as a pool of stagnant water. .
"Are you talking about Wright?" The hat behind Dumbledore obviously did not have as much experience as the principal, and he interjected somewhat inappropriately, "My self-awareness was inspired by him."
Snape pulled out his wand and waved it at the hat, and the hat immediately found that it could no longer make any sound.
When Wright comes to the principal's office in the future, I will definitely ask him to help teach this greasy brat Snape a lesson! The Sorting Hat, who had no basic hat rights, kept complaining in his mind.
Well, if the place where it thinks is called the brain.
Dumbledore glanced at the hat and stopped paying attention to what the hat was saying. Moreover, he believed that Snape was still sensible and didn't have to worry about any bad impact on the hat.
"Severus, do you mean Wright?" Dumbledore sat back on the principal's chair and said calmly, "I have seen the creed passed by Minerva and Filius. This child is He does have amazing talents in magic and transfiguration."
"I just don't know how talented he is in other subjects. I heard from Minerva that he ranked first in the national Muggle primary school exam this year." Dumbledore said with a smile.
"Dumbledore, you know I don't care about this." Snape said coldly, "I only care about whether this student will cause irreparable trouble in the school! Just like the black..."
Snape paused before continuing: "Just like the Dark Lord once was."
"Severus, you are worrying too much." Dumbledore buried his head and began to write. He still had a letter to write to Fudge, telling him clearly what he thought. Fudge has always been a little unsure of his own abilities, and this is a good time to support him.
"Dumbledore, are you so old that you have forgotten that the child has a huge amount of shadow magic?" Snape's voice gradually became louder, "A child with pure talent is not scary. What is really scary is that he has A knife that can turn your talents into cash at any time!"
"Severus!" Dumbledore suddenly raised his head. At this time, his hair and beard were all tangled, like an old lion king who was about to get angry at any time. "Watch your language!"
"Hmph! I hope you won't regret it in the future!" Snape turned around and strode away from the principal's office, the wizard's robe carried by the wind like a rolling black cloud.
The principal's room fell into silence again.
After a while, the sound of rustling writing slowly began to sound.