Chapter 136: Dumbledore’s Memories
“At that time, I was at the lowest ebb of my life,” Albus Dumbledore said softly. “Not long before, because of a mistake, I had lost nearly all of my family one after another. The only one left, my stubborn younger brother Aberforth, turned against me because of it...”
“So, I chose to leave my hometown—Godric’s Hollow.”
Dumbledore paused, as though lost in thought.
Jon carefully studied the youthful version of Dumbledore before him. Indeed, despite his handsome features, exhaustion was etched into every line of his face.
“Headmaster Phineas Black invited me to Hogwarts to take the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” Dumbledore went on. “I didn’t refuse, but I asked him to delay the invitation for a few years. At that time, I needed to steady my state of mind.”
“Phineas generously agreed. He said he’d have Professor Dugald McPhail hold the post for a few more years... And he also introduced me to this task, suggesting I take it as a way to relax.” A faint, reminiscent smile appeared on Dumbledore’s face.
Jon had just been about to ask what that task was, when the young Albus Dumbledore before him suddenly rose to his feet.
...
The young Dumbledore looked down the path.
There, an elderly man was making his way slowly toward them.
A strange-looking man... his pale, dry hair fluttered in the wind; his body was frail, nearly skeletal, as though a breeze might carry him away.
He leaned heavily on a cane, pausing every few steps until at last he stopped in front of Dumbledore.
“You’re the young man Black mentioned?” the old man asked, coughing. “Dumble...dore?”
His voice was sharp yet hoarse.
“Yes, but my name is Albus Dumbledore!” the young man said, bending deeply in a bow, showing unreserved respect and admiration. “You must be Mr. Flamel?”
Jon glanced nervously at the real Dumbledore beside him, feeling as if he were watching some embarrassing moment from his youth...
But Dumbledore only gave a gentle shake of his head, signaling he didn’t mind.
“Just call me Flamel,” the old man said with a faint smile. “Dumbledore... that name is familiar. Are you related to Brian Dumbledore?”
“He was my great-grandfather, Mr. Flamel.”
“As I thought... I had dealings with him at the end of the eighteenth century. His phoenix left quite the impression.” Nicolas Flamel nodded with satisfaction, then gestured for Dumbledore to follow.
“How’s your Apparition skill?” he asked casually.
“Decent enough, I suppose,” young Dumbledore replied modestly.
“Oh, I forgot—Black bragged in his letter that you were Hogwarts’ finest graduate in nearly a century!” Flamel tapped his forehead. “Well then, let’s head up the mountain.”
Nicolas Flamel transformed into a wisp of white mist and soared toward the summit.
The young Dumbledore took a deep breath and likewise transformed into a white cloud, following after him...
...
The scene before them suddenly shifted, and Jon felt as though he were being pulled back into the swirling black vortex—
But then a withered hand caught his arm.
It was the older Dumbledore.
“I was Apparating at the time,” Dumbledore explained calmly. “So there’s a brief blank spot in the memory.”
“Then, Professor, what did you go up the mountain for?” Jon asked curiously.
“You’ll see soon enough. Nick led me to a rather interesting creature.” Dumbledore chuckled, shaking his head, and pointed ahead.
The black vortex faded away... and bright sunlight returned.
Jon saw the young Dumbledore, just like himself, looking around curiously; nearby, Nicolas Flamel was crouched at the edge of a deep pit, carefully inspecting something.
“This is it,” the elderly alchemist said gravely. “Their trail...”
“What are you searching for, Mr. Flamel?” young Dumbledore asked, crouching down beside him.
“Two months ago, I received news that a Muggle sailing ship had mysteriously sunk in the Black Sea,” Nicolas Flamel said seriously. “It was already the tenth ship in recent years to vanish there without explanation... I suspect an unknown Magical Creature was behind it.”
“Then why come to the Karkonosze Mountains for an incident in the Black Sea?” young Dumbledore asked in puzzlement.
Jon, as the silent onlooker, felt the same confusion.
Flamel shook his head slightly. “I spent two weeks searching the Black Sea with the help of Gillyweed, but found nothing. Logically, a Magical Creature capable of capsizing a sailing ship must be enormous—it shouldn’t leave no trace at all. Later, I stumbled upon the wreck of one of those ships. Its mast and deck bore clear claw marks.”
“That means...” young Dumbledore said softly.
“It must have been the work of some giant bird—or perhaps a dragon,” Nicolas Flamel said with a frown. “Something that large would easily be spotted if it lived on the plains. Its habitat must be in the mountains near the Black Sea. That’s why I’ve been searching the area.”
“Among the Muggle towns near the Karkonosze Mountains, there’s a legend,” Flamel continued. “A dragon lives in the mountains, demanding a virgin sacrifice from the village each year. Each year, a young hero challenges it, but none have ever returned alive. While Muggle legends aren’t always reliable, they often carry a grain of truth.”
He turned to young Dumbledore. “Headmaster Black said you’ve studied dragons extensively?”
“I suppose so...” young Dumbledore nodded. “My original N.E.W.Ts research was on dragon blood... but an accident forced me to abandon it.”
“Then this may be your chance to put that knowledge to use,” Flamel encouraged. “If there really is a dragon capable of capsizing a ship, it would be a staggering discovery. None of the nine known dragon breeds have such a colossal size.”
“Should we follow these tracks and keep looking?” young Dumbledore asked tentatively.
“Of course.” Nicolas Flamel nodded. “I’ll take the lead.”
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