Everything…
Hodge couldn't fathom the depth of emotion packed into that single word. As for himself, he was privy to far too many secrets, the greatest being that he was a transmigrator—a truth he intended to take to his grave, never to be revealed. But the experiences of Ginny, the Magician, and the Weasleys had sparked an idea, giving him a plausible excuse for the conversation ahead.
Hodge looked up and saw Dumbledore sitting there, his gaze kind and warm.
"Why me?" Hodge asked curiously, posing a broad question.
"Because you understand many truths—ordinary truths," Dumbledore replied. "Hodge, that's rare. You possess a maturity far beyond your peers. You've read extensively, and Minerva mentioned to me that, in an effort to gauge the wizarding world's level of civilization, you listed dozens of different fields of knowledge as a standard to measure the entire wizarding system—not just magic."
Hodge blinked, caught off guard.
"After you arrived at Hogwarts, you spent a great deal of time in the library. I've looked over your borrowing records—mostly history and spells," Dumbledore said softly. "But that's not all. Your peculiar friendship with Lockhart has led you to borrow quite a few books from the Restricted Section." His expression turned slightly odd. "Can you tell me how you view him?"
"Writer, fraud, flamboyant peacock, and an utterly incompetent professor," Hodge said bluntly. "A celebrity with wide influence, but just a cog in the machine of Hogwarts' system."
Dumbledore nodded, understanding. The first part reflected personal opinion; the second, Lockhart's societal role. Lockhart was indeed an unqualified professor, but he held the same authority as the others. Though that cog was a bit rusty, until it was removed, it played an irreplaceable role in keeping the school running.
"I've met countless remarkable wizards, but their understanding of society pales in comparison to yours," Dumbledore said. Hodge felt a flush of embarrassment—he could barely navigate the Muggle world's complexities himself. The wizarding world, however, was simpler, where individual power could make a tremendous impact. Plus, he genuinely harbored a deep fascination with its history, laws, systems, magical creatures, and people. "Beyond that," Dumbledore continued, "you have astonishing self-restraint."
Hodge looked up curiously. He didn't quite see it that way.
Dumbledore let out a gentle sigh.
"It's rare for an exceptional person to listen to reason, especially when they're young. By wizarding standards, I'll use magical talent as an example—" Dumbledore explained. "The more powerful one is, the more confident they become. They quickly realize society's attempts to constrain them and deliberately draw a clear line between themselves and the world. Of course, this isn't entirely without merit. Some discover societal flaws and form unique, profound insights. But many, if I may be blunt, veer down a dangerously misguided path."
Geniuses are often arrogant.
Not just in their field of expertise, but in everything else too. A professor might far surpass others in their specialized research, but that's where it ends. On other topics, they're no better than the average person—sometimes their opinions are downright foolish. Yet professors love to pontificate on subjects outside their expertise.
Hodge's mind drifted to Voldemort.
He was gifted, talented, a prodigy even by wizarding standards. But growing up in an orphanage created a stark disconnect, fostering a deep rejection of the world around him. The more he compared himself to others, the wider the chasm grew. As Dumbledore had said, Voldemort had taken a wrong path.
"…Many act on instinct," Dumbledore continued, "but when they see themselves as superior and deliberately distance themselves from others, all that's left is instinct." He abruptly changed the subject. "I've used dark magic, Hodge."
Hodge's eyes widened.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Are you surprised I've used dark magic, or shocked by my candor?" The blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles seemed clouded. "Everything I described earlier perfectly fit the younger me. Brilliant, arrogant, deaf to others' advice, convinced I'd seen through society's flaws and that only I could fix them. But I was wrong—terribly wrong. My talent lay in magic, but it took a grave mistake for me to realize it. My loved ones paid the price…"
"I'm glad you have grand ambitions but haven't lost yourself to power."
After a pause, Dumbledore added, "I closely examined the diary and the basilisk…" His expression grew solemn. "The spell you used against the basilisk—it was some form of ancient magic, wasn't it? One that strips away magical properties."
It bore a striking resemblance to the signature magic of Sebastian Sallow, from what he'd uncovered.
"Well," Hodge said carefully, "I gained some memories after my encounter with Quirrell, who was possessed by Voldemort. When I woke up in the hospital wing…"
He gave a brief explanation, patching up his occasional foresight. Dumbledore didn't comment on his private study of ancient magic, only cautioning him to be careful. "Some spells are cast through magical projection?" Dumbledore mused, piecing together the origin of the marks on the diary. He seemed about to say more but stopped when Hodge assured him he'd be cautious. The conversation then turned to the Weasleys and Fudge. Hodge was candid, even mentioning the possibility that Dumbledore might die, which caused a stir among the eavesdropping portraits of former headmasters on the walls. Dumbledore, however, appeared thoughtful.
"Impossible!" bellowed a portrait of a red-nosed wizard seated on a throne. "Dumbledore could never lose in a fight!"
"Nothing is impossible, Dexter," Dumbledore said calmly.
A witch with long, silver curls spoke up. "Perhaps it was a trick or conspiracy. When I worked as a healer at St. Mungo's, I saw too many wizards fall victim to illness, curses, or magical traps…"
"Regardless, thank you for telling me," Dumbledore said to Hodge. "I've been involved in some dangerous activities lately, and I wouldn't be surprised if a trap were involved."
"Because of the Horcruxes?" Hodge's eyes lit up.
Dumbledore blinked.
"My sources tell me Voldemort may have more than one Horcrux," he explained. "So I set out to find them, starting with his childhood. I've made some progress. I found a goblet in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts—a precious relic of Helga Hufflepuff. I destroyed it. I've also been tracking down Tom Riddle's old connections, nearly grasping a lead, but it slipped away—"
"What was it?"
"Ravenclaw's diadem."
Cough, cough.
————
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