Almost an hour had passed.
Dumbledore knocked on Robert's door.
"Come in, Professor," Robert said, allowing Dumbledore inside.
The house-elf Toby had already prepared a tray filled with desserts, candies, and drinks, placing it on the table. By this time, Dumbledore had mostly recovered his composure, except for the slight redness and swelling around his eyes.
"Have some dessert, Professor. Eating something sweet can make people happier," Robert said with a smile.
"Thank you..." Dumbledore accepted the small cake Robert handed him. "I'm sorry you had to witness me losing my composure like that..."
"This is human nature, Professor. Family ties are hard to let go of, aren't they?" Robert replied gently, placing a glass of pumpkin juice—double-sugared with honey—in front of Dumbledore.
Dumbledore took a sip. The overwhelming sweetness lifted his mood slightly.
"That Resurrection Stone... Please, make sure to hide it well. But, more importantly, remember the lesson from the tale—don't indulge in it..." Dumbledore murmured.
Robert glanced towards Tom's room. "Rather than hiding it away, I think it might be more meaningful to let some people learn what love truly is."
Dumbledore looked surprised, following Robert's gaze toward the closed door.
"You mean..."
"Yes. After seeing your true emotions, Professor, Tom seemed to have had some realizations. He took the Resurrection Stone from me again and said he wanted to have a proper talk with his mother."
"Good... that's wonderful," Dumbledore said, his previous sorrow fading.
"By the way, Professor, I just remembered—you said I could ask you anything."
"Of course, Robert. What is it?"
"Well... Since you just used the Resurrection Stone yourself, do you believe the souls it summons are real?" Robert asked cautiously.
"I used to think they were mere illusions, just like the legend suggests. But when they appeared... they weren't as cold and distant as the tale described. So now... I'm not sure, Robert," Dumbledore admitted. "Family bonds make it difficult to distinguish between reality and illusion."
"Would you say it was like... a dream?" Robert asked.
"A dream?" Dumbledore sighed. "That's an interesting way to put it... Yes, it did feel like a dream. Even after waking, I find myself still immersed in it..."
"Professor, if I may ask—what did your family say to you in this 'dream'?"
"They... encouraged me to live well and even forgave my past mistakes. But... How could they possibly forgive me?" Dumbledore's voice wavered. "I made such terrible mistakes... This is just a dream, isn't it?"
Robert was silent for a moment before responding, "I don't think it was a dream, Professor. They are your family. What mistake could be so unforgivable? Think about it—if the roles were reversed, if you were the one who had passed away, would you continue to blame your living relatives for a mistake that may have been unintentional?"
Dumbledore fell silent, staring at the cup in his hands, his eyes filled with emotion.
After a long pause, he spoke. "No... If my sister and I had switched places... I wouldn't even think of blaming her. I would never hesitate to forgive her. Because... even when conflicts exist within a family, love never disappears."
Robert, however, internally disagreed. Not all families were so forgiving. Many people had been betrayed by their own relatives.
Of course, perhaps Dumbledore's family truly wasn't like that.
Still, he chose not to say that aloud.
Instead, he said, "Then, Professor, if you could forgive your family in their place, why assume they wouldn't do the same for you? Maybe what you just experienced wasn't a dream. Maybe the real dream was the years you spent trapped in guilt. A nightmare. And now, it's time to wake up from it."
Dumbledore remained silent for much longer this time.
Robert drank several glasses of pumpkin juice in the meantime, until his stomach protested from the sheer sweetness.
Finally, Dumbledore let out a long sigh.
"You're right, Robert. I thought my family would never forgive me. I was being narrow-minded. What they said was true—one day, I will embark on the same journey they already have, and we will meet again. Since it's not a permanent farewell, why should I grieve?"
As he spoke, Robert suddenly felt a strange magical fluctuation emanate from Dumbledore.
It felt eerily similar to the sensation he had felt when Annie absorbed the "residue" of magic.
"Professor... I think you just became stronger?" Robert asked, astonished.
"The power of love is the greatest power in the world, Robert," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. "I haven't necessarily grown stronger in the conventional sense. But I now have a deeper understanding of love. And that is thanks to you, Robert."
Robert was stunned.
Wait, is enlightenment actually a thing in the wizarding world?!
He didn't know how much stronger Dumbledore had just become, but he was certain—his magic had grown.
Could it be that truly understanding an emotion could increase one's magical power?
What if Tom also experienced the magic of love...?
A Voldemort who didn't rely on dark magic but instead used the power of love to "influence" others?
Why did that sound so bizarre?
Before Robert could think further, a familiar system notification chimed in his ears.
"Ding! The host has significantly altered Dumbledore's fate! This has led to a tremendous increase in Dumbledore's power, drastically changing the future, preventing many tragedies, and saving countless lives! The host is rewarded with 10,000 merit points!"
Robert's jaw nearly dropped.
The usually stingy system was being incredibly generous this time!
Previously, after buying the Encyclopedia of Magical Potions, his balance had dropped to 4,500 points.
Later, tricking Tom and other pure-blood wizards had earned him a few merit points here and there, raising his balance to 8,000.
Now, with the additional 10,000 points, he had 18,000!
Only 2,000 more until the system upgrade!
Robert made up his mind. Even if the system shop refreshed soon, he would prioritize upgrading it first before spending on anything else.
If needed, he would just lock the good items for later.
After all, a system upgrade meant better-quality items in the future.
His current system lacked any guarantees—it was like a loot box filled with random junk.
"Wade, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, noticing Robert lost in thought.
"Uh... nothing. I was just wondering... if understanding emotions can directly improve magical power?"
"The key, Robert, is not simply understanding an emotion—it's about knowing what you are fighting for," Dumbledore said wisely. "When you truly understand your purpose for wielding magic, you will naturally become stronger."
Robert pondered over his words.
He felt as though he was on the verge of grasping something profound—but it remained just out of reach.
Dumbledore's realm of thought was simply too high.
Idealism...
Yes, magic was essentially idealism in action.
—
That evening, Tom finally emerged from his room.
Robert observed him carefully but found no obvious magical changes, unlike Dumbledore.
Tom handed the Resurrection Stone back to Robert.
"This belongs to you," he said.
Robert accepted it without argument. The stone's magic reminded him of nightmare magic—something he planned to ask his senior sister about later.
"Where's Professor Dumbledore?" Tom asked, eyeing the tray of leftover desserts.
"He left a little while ago. I have to say, he really has a sweet tooth. At least now I know what to get him for Christmas," Robert joked.
"Christmas..." Tom hesitated before asking, "Are you planning to go back and visit?"
"Go back where?"
Tom hesitated again, struggling to put his thoughts into words.
—
Three days later, in front of Wool's Orphanage.
A luxurious carriage stopped at the entrance.
The Riddle family's old butler stepped down first, opening the door.
Robert and Tom, both dressed in fine clothes, stepped out.
"Tom... I really didn't expect the place you wanted to visit was here," Robert murmured.
Tom ran a hand over his suit fabric, smirking. "Unlike you, I actually grew up here."
A voice called out in surprise.
"Tom! I almost didn't recognize you!"
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