Dumbledore had underestimated Amortius' reaction.
He thought that after he expressed his guess, Amortius would be anxious, would lose his temper, and would fall into uncontrollable fear. However, in fact, Amortius remained surprisingly calm. This calmness might be a disguise of the Brain Lock spell, and Dumbledore, who had lived for over a century, believed he could discern it.
What has he experienced, what has he hidden, and why can he remain so calm?
Dumbledore was eager to figure out the answers to these questions.
"Let's discuss one question at a time, Professor Dumbledore," Amortius massaged his brow, speaking with a slightly weary tone.
"Of course--"
Dumbledore said with a smile.
Including the past half year, it's not a short time since Amortius has been back at Hogwarts. His habits were well-known. Dumbledore stood up, pulled out a wand from his sleeve, and waved it. On the slender-legged desk in front of Amortius, a cup of steaming hot green tea appeared, while he prepared himself a glass of honey water.
"Please allow me to recommend a very interesting and delicious food, Amortius--"
Although both knew the situation was quite bad, Dumbledore, who had seen big waves in his life, had cultivated his psychological resilience extremely firmly. He shook his sleeve and turned to take a jar from the shelf where the sorting hat was kept. He cheerfully told Amortius, "
"Several years ago, I was acquainted with Severus Snape, the owner of Honeyduke's sweetshop. He knows about my preferences, so he often sends me some new products from his shop through other people..."
Speaking, Dumbledore opened the lid, rolled up his sleeves and put his hand in to explore, but, after stirring for a while, his hand didn't retract.
"Are you catching bugs, Professor Dumbledore?"
Looking at the strange Dumbledore, Amortus couldn't help but laugh. However, he soon couldn't continue to laugh.
"Wow, I've got it. These little guys are really sensitive beyond imagination--"
Dumbledore winked at Amortius, and the next second, the hand that had poked into the jar pulled back with something struggling and chirping in it. He handed it over to Amortius, whose expression had turned dark, as if offering a treasure.
"The name of this candy is Cockroach Heap, and its inventor Mr. Hagrid is still hesitating whether to introduce it to the residents of the magical world."
"I think Mr. Hagrid does indeed need to give it some serious consideration."
Amortus shrugged his face and said disdainfully,
"By the way, I think he also needs to check his brain at St. Mungo's."
"Well, it seems we can't come to an agreement then--"
Dumbledore sighed regretfully and, in front of Amortus, who was pale with disgust, happily threw the overly realistic candy into his mouth. With a crunching sound, he closed his eyes happily munched on it until a few seconds later, Dumbledore's face suddenly stiffened.
"The little thing might have taken one of my teeth..."
Dumbledore said 'painfully'.
"Also, I seem to have swallowed it whole... oh, what a painful loss."
Enough, old man, showing off never ends, is it?
The atmosphere in the office was more lively than before. Dumbledore and Amortius leaned back in their chairs, each holding their drink, looking relaxed as if they were discussing the weather for the next day.
Huh--
Blowing away the steam, he sipped the bitter tea, and felt the wonderful taste of the hot flow that was burning his throat and entering his stomach. Amortus breathed a sigh of relief.
"Regarding your previous guess, Professor Dumbledore, I noticed you described it as 'vaguely sensing a force that does not belong to me'... So that means you're not sure whether this thing is a fragment of a wizard's soul or, rather, a soulcatcher?"
"We both know what soulcatchers are, Amortus,"
Dumbledore looked up, gazing at the colorful patterns on the ceiling, and said.
"A soul that has been stripped and is protected by powerful and evil magic... Just like our magic, each soul is unique. Unless the soul originally belongs to you, they can only attach to each other rather than merge."
"So you're saying that the result of your observation is that the thing is mixed with my soul?"
"I believe so."
Dumbledore fixed his gaze on Amortius, as if he were reconfirming his judgment to ensure he hadn't made a mistake.
"It is a very close connection, hidden within your soul... like"
Dumbledore hesitated, as if struggling with how to describe what he had seen to Amortius. His gaze wandered, falling on the green tea that Amortius was holding.
"It's like two drinks with different colors that can't be dissolved into each other... Of course, we still can't rule out the possibility that it is a soul shard, because my speculation is only based on theory, and soulcatchers are the most mysterious and obscure form of dark magic, which we can't truly understand."
Amortus nodded slightly, acknowledging Dumbledore's evaluation of soulcatchers.
Indeed, currently in the magical world, the person with the deepest knowledge of soulcatchers is Voldemort, not him and Albus Dumbledore.
Memory... it's memory again.
Dumbledore fell silent, and Amortus didn't say anything either, thinking deeply in a taciturn manner.
Regardless of whether it's a soulcatcher or something else, the 'object' in Amortus's soul undoubtedly came from the hand of a wizard, and yet he had no memory of this aspect whatsoever.
"If you truly have no knowledge of this thing--"
Dumbledore looked at Amortus, his voice hesitant,
"If you allow..."
"Thank you for your kindness, Professor Dumbledore--"
Amortus interrupted Dumbledore first, responding to his gaze with a slight smile on his lips.
"I won't allow anyone to check my memories."
To Dumbledore, Amortius's response was not a surprise, of course. Even the closest companions might not be able to bear the thought of being fully aware of each other's memories.
Based on the information they currently have, it is impossible to accurately guess whether the thing in Amortus' soul is just a piece of a soul or something else. However, there are some things they can confirm at least.
Click--
A crisp sound was emitted as the bottom of the glass bottle touched the desk, and simply by gazing at the bottle, which was now completely dark, all the portraits of former heads on the wall instinctively drew in their breaths.
"For years, I have countless times been under your supervision, Professor Dumbledore,"
Recalling the strange fluttering in his heart when he summoned a Patronus on the Quidditch pitch, Amortus's gaze fell on Dumbledore, who was solemnly observing one of the most malevolent creatures in the magical world, a Dementor. He spoke slowly.
"But you've never noticed anything unusual about me, until just now when I summoned a Patronus in the face of the Dementor..."
"I understand what you mean, Amortus,"
Dumbledore sighed slightly.
"There has been no definitive conclusion regarding the specific origins of the Dementor, a creature that cannot be destroyed by magic and whose Patronus can only suppress but not destroy it. According to some records, some people believe that the Dementor was created by the dark wizard Alastor in the 15th century. However, according to some internal records of the Ministry of Magic, investigators of the former Royal College of Magic discovered some clues when they climbed onto Azkaban Island. It seems that this creature has existed there for a long time..."
We don't know when it appeared, nor can we trace its origins to whether it evolved naturally or was the result of a sudden inspiration from some dark wizard...
Oh, but based on the current situation, it's likely that they were man-made. Of course, you must have also thought of the fact that their creator probably has some mysterious connection to you, but that doesn't make sense, does it?"
Dumbledore worriedly looked at Amortus and said,
"If the terrifying creature that steals away people's happiness really originated from the dark wizard in the 15th century, why is it related to you?"
