Chapter 420 - 420
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After dinner in the great hall, I went to the Headmaster's office. There was no gargoyle in the niche, and I went up the spiral staircase to the office door without any problems, knocked, and went in.
In the light of the setting sun, the Headmaster's office acquired, perhaps, even more magical shades and details, and various carved bookcases, a mirror with a Pensieve, the railing of the stairs to the second floor… Even the big old brown globe that stood not far from the fireplace - everything acquired incredible fantasy colors.
At the table sat the Headmaster and McGonagall. They were going through the various documents and parchments with particular care but rather quickly.
"...and here are the documents for collecting investments for the school," Dumbledore said quietly, handing over another folder.
Looking at me over his half-moon spectacles, the Headmaster straightened up in his chair.
"Minerva, will you leave us to talk?"
McGonagall shifted her gaze to me, and, receiving an affirmative nod, she gathered the documents into folders with magic with a swift movement of her hand. The folders themselves flew into the hands of McGonagall, who rose from her seat.
"In that case," she spoke, "I'll come back tomorrow to get a better handle on the rest of the documentation."
"All right," the Headmaster nodded, and McGonagall quickly left the office. "Have a seat, Mr. Knight."
The Headmaster pointed to a vacated chair behind his desk.
"Tea, sherbet lemon?"
"I wouldn't say no."
As I walked to the chair, a tray with a service and a bowl of sherbet lemons flew up to the table. At the Headmaster's will, a teapot flew off the tray, and within seconds we had each taken our first sips of fragrant tea. Of course, as always, I checked everything for various additives. Empty.
"Great tea. Earl Grey... With bergamot."
"Yes, Mr. Knight," the Headmaster smiled almost imperceptibly. "I keep tea for all occasions. Well, and bergamot... I guess you've noticed by now that I love anything that even slightly resembles citrus?"
"Absolutely," I replied with a slight smile, placing the cup on the saucer. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"
"Yes," the Headmaster repeated my actions. "I've already heard about your victory. I'll even say more - I've seen it in person. Through memory, of course. The Dark Lord has indeed fallen, and there's glaring evidence of that - Professor Snape has lost his Mark."
"Not only that," I shook my head. "Harry's scar started to heal for the first time ever."
"Yes," the Headmaster nodded. "When I went out to the Lodge of Necromancers, they showed me the right diagnostic spell. They have special ones. When Mr. Potter started banging into my office in the middle of the night, telling me he'd dreamt that he'd seen you fight Voldemort and win, I rushed to check his scar. The Horcrux was gone. It was as if it had never existed."
"I, Headmaster, have information on other Horcruxes, but I'm afraid it's not relevant in the current light."
"I agree," the Headmaster nodded, running his hand along his beard.
The sun was almost over the horizon, and Dumbledore waved his hand and lit the lights in the study.
"I would really like to know," the Headmaster continued, "how exactly you achieved such a result, but I understand that such frankness will not appear just like that. I hope you're not in too much of a hurry and take some time to listen to the old man's story?"
"Why not."
"However, I can't even predict your attitude toward it. Well..." the Headmaster took a cup from a saucer on the table and took a couple of sips of tea. "I'll start with the important thing so that you can understand the reasons and the point. Dark Magic is divided into three categories. Magic, the essence and function of which is to cause irreparable harm to health, torture, and murder. Magic that requires harm, torture, and murder to create. Magic, the careless use of which, the use without looking back or despite the consequences, is capable of causing harm to the wizard himself or others around him, torture and death."
We took another sip of tea.
"Occlumency belongs to the Dark Arts for a reason, and specifically to the third type. In my youth, I myself, one might say, fell victim to my perfectionism and desire to learn everything as best as possible and to perform it with the greatest efficiency. Over time, of course, a lot happened, a lot had to be experienced, but one thing I learned about occlumency was that balance was needed. It's amazing, really, how such a simple thing passed my mind because balance is important in any branch of magic. When I became Headmaster at Hogwarts, and even as a senior Transfiguration teacher, I knew this simple truth. Do you know what the problem with occlumency is? Where is the flip side of that coin?"
"To be honest, Headmaster, I haven't given it much thought."
"Emotions. By keeping your mind under tight control, you keep your emotions in check. In your judgments and actions, you begin to rely only on logic and a set of external factors that have a visual embodiment. Yes, occlumency protects you from invading your consciousness, from reading your emotions, from reading your thoughts or memories, but by doing so, you deprive your emotional component of... Mobility, perhaps. Yes, mobility. But that's only half the problem...."