Chapter 22: Doubt, Temptation, Dark Magic

The banquet soon came to an end and the other students seemed to be dissatisfied. Malfoy was planning on going back to the Slytherin dormitory to rest, as the events of the past few days had made him very tired, especially destroying a soul-splitting device, which was really thrilling.

But as he lifted his feet to step out of the restaurant, a tall, black shadow blocked his way.

"Mr. Draco, in view of your behavior outside the school, Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you alone," Snape said, his sallow face looking down at Malfoy.

His tone was different from the one he used with the Gryffindor's, and Malfoy even detected a touch of sympathy.

"The principal's office is on the eighth floor. You can go there on your own," Snape said hurriedly, as if he had something else to attend to.

"Right," Malfoy said.

Snape turned and left, as if he suddenly remembered something and turned his head.

"The password is butter beer. Don't forget it," he said before leaving the restaurant in a hurry, not knowing where he was going.

"The one who is meant to come will always come," Malfoy thought to himself, feeling a little weak.

"Are you all right?" Pansy thumped his shoulder, apparently having also heard the conversation earlier.

"Silly girl, what can I do?" Malfoy rubbed Pansy's hair and comforted her.

"It's estimated that he'll just ask some questions. Don't worry, the Ministry of Magic will punish him if he some illegal things long ago."

"Okay," Pansy pouted, apparently frustrated with the answer, and intuitively telling her that things were not that simple.

"Go to sleep, girls need sleep very much," Malfoy used a killer argument.

"Yes!" Pansy suddenly patted his cheek.

"I was so crazy on Christmas Eve that I slept late. I have to catch up on sleep today." She hurried towards the Slytherin female dormitory.

As she ran, she didn't forget to turn back and say, "If you get criticized, I'll comfort you tomorrow, so don't worry."

"How do I feel like I want to be criticized now," Malfoy touched his chin and thought.

Then Malfoy stepped up the stairs and walked to the eighth floor. The empty space between the corridors, with only one stone monster standing beside it, was very striking.

He slowly approached the stone monster.

"Butter beer!" he said.

The stone monster jumped aside and the wall behind it split open, revealing an active spiral staircase behind it. Malfoy stepped up, and as the staircase spiraled upward, he finally came to the front of Dumbledore's office door with a brass door knocker.

"It's a weird taste," Malfoy murmured as he looked at the brass door knocker shaped like a sphinx and eagle head.

"Boom boom," he lightly knocked on the door three times.

"Please come in," Dumbledore's voice called out.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Malfoy said as he approached Dumbledore's office.

Malfoy carefully looked around the room. It was a wonderful space, spacious and full of style. The most magical thing about the room was that it was still round. The walls were covered with portraits of old Headmaster and headmistress, all snoring gently in their own frames.

There was also a huge table in the room, with claw-shaped legs and many delicate silverware on its slender legs. The table was rotating, spraying a small stream of smoke, while a Phoenix Fox inhabited the shelf behind the door.

"Children, sit down and relax," Dumbledore said kindly.

"Headmaster, I'm sorry for what happened," Malfoy did not sit down, but instead bowed to Dumbledore first.

"Oh, I believe this is just a misunderstanding," Dumbledore waved his hands and the blue eyes behind his glasses kept flashing, not knowing what he was thinking.

"I called you today and just wanted to talk to you. I seem to be paying too much attention to Harry. I almost forgot to care about the best students in our first grade," Dumbledore said while bringing his ten fingertips together, a habit of his.

"Thank you for your praise, Headmaster." Malfoy said modestly, but there was a chill in his heart: 'Old man, you still don't care about me, huh? Your Harry is preparing to steal the Philosopher stone.'

Of course, he didn't show it at all.

"Hmm..." Dumbledore fell into a deep groan, seeming to be thinking about something.

Suddenly, Dumbledore got up and walked over to the corner of the room. As Dumbledore moved, Malfoy's eyes also shifted.

"I think you will find this interesting," Dumbledore whispered a mantra as he approached the corner. The black cloth hanging over an object suddenly flew away, revealing the hidden object.

It was a very magnificent mirror, tall enough to reach the ceiling, with a gorgeous gold frame and two claw-shaped feet supporting it.

There was a line engraved at the top: Eris Stella Ehruait Ubikafrau Eit Envoges.

"Mirror of Eris," Malfoy quickly concluded.

"Come closer and tell me what you see," Dumbledore's voice was still gentle.

"Okay, Professor," Malfoy said, walking towards the mirror.

This is a mirror that can reveal a person's most urgent and strongest desires in their heart. Harry saw a family in the mirror, Ron saw himself as the chairman of the student union, holding the Quidditch Cup and the college cup in his hand.

The distance seemed to be very long, but Malfoy was walking slowly. He thought to himself, "Voldemort expects to see the all-powerful God in the mirror, what is my desire?"

The longest journey will always come to an end, especially when it's so close.

Malfoy stood still in front of the mirror. He closed his eyes first, then slowly opened them.

"Hehe," Seeing the scene in the mirror, Malfoy couldn't help but smile awkwardly.

"Boy, what did you see?" Dumbledore's voice drifted slowly, seeming magically, making people unconsciously want to say something. Malfoy turned around and looked at him, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's sharp and bright eyes, very penetrating.

"I saw..." Malfoy's answer seemed to be blurted out, but his eyes suddenly began to struggle. After a short while, his eyes became clear.

"Legilimency?" Just as Malfoy was about to blurt out his desire, he stopped himself.

"No, that's not it."

"My thoughts cannot be accessed by anyone," Malfoy thought to himself.

"You want to see it, then see it." He held his breath, decisively closed off his mind, and then visualized a phantom image.

"Cough," Dumbledore suddenly coughed violently, his silver-white beard shaking, and his pupils under the blue eyes contracting sharply, apparently shocked by the image.

"Professor, I don't think it's a good habit to use Legilimency attention on students," Malfoy sneered.

"You actually learned to Occlumency your mind," Dumbledore said, a little embarrassed as he adjusted his glasses.

"Otherwise, my secret would have been revealed today," Malfoy said angrily.

He could understand Dumbledore's motivations - the magic world can no longer tolerate the rise of a new Voldemort. This would be a devastating blow to the entire wizarding society.

Dumbledore can understand the need to kill him in the cradle, but understanding and tolerance are two different things. Not to mention that this is related to his greatest secret. He cannot open his memory to Dumbledore and can only choose to confront him.

"You are very much like a Tom," Dumbledore said faintly. "Even better than him."

Dumbledore seemed to have been exhausted and suddenly aged a few years as he sat in a chair.

"I am different from him, and I have love in my heart," Malfoy said lightly, then turned and left.

Today's exchange was not a good experience for the two.

"What happened in that scene?" Dumbledore asked suddenly.

"You cannot understand my dream," Malfoy replied.

"He wouldn't do it," Dumbledore said.

"Who knows? Maybe he hates the Dark Lord, in fact, it's you!" Leaving these words behind, Malfoy slammed the door shut with a loud noise, causing the entire floor to shake. Even the Phoenix on the shelf seemed to sense the unusual atmosphere and began to sing.

The Phoenix's singing has magical powers: it can strengthen the courage of pure hearts and release the fear of dirty hearts.

After a burst of singing, Dumbledore's mood calmed down, but his look was still complicated. He looked quietly at the silverware he had collected. He didn't know what he was thinking, but there was a faint wry smile from time to time.

"I hope so." He murmured in a low voice.

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There was still a lot of noise in the Gryffindor's lounge as students at school and those who had come home shared their stories about Christmas.

"Hermione, you don't know what you're missing," Ron said excitedly at the table.

"Harry and I saw a magic mirror. It was amazing! I saw that I became the president of the student union, took the House Cup, and won the Quidditch Cup!"

"Ron, that's just an illusion," Hermione said.

"I know, but it still looks great, doesn't it?" Ron continued.

"People cannot live in dreams. We should face reality and not rely on dreams and forget about life," Hermione said.

"Dumbledore said the same thing. After all, this is an illusion."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"My dream may never be realized, but there might be hope in your dreams, Ron. You should focus on finishing your homework seriously first before talking about your dreams."

Ron patted the table in frustration.

"Can't she say something nice? Even you agree with her, Harry."

"Actually, I think she makes sense," Harry whispered.

"Harry, even you say so," Ron said, covering his forehead in pain.

"Okay, I know. I'll work hard."

As Hermione was about to leave the Gryffindor's lounge and return to the female dormitory, she was called out by a weak voice.

"Hermione!" Neville said.

"Navi? What are you doing?" Hermione asked, turning to see Neville.

"I heard what you said earlier, and I think you're right," Neville said slowly.

"I'm talking about what you said in the restaurant about Draco. I know you don't believe he's capable of doing something like that. I don't either. He helped me find a toad and a crystal ball. I believe he's definitely not that kind of person. Hermione, you think so too, right? Draco is a good man."

"I have the opportunity to explain to Draco, and I believe him," Neville said firmly, raising his fist before walking out the door.

"Am I not even as nice as Neville?" Hermione whispered to herself.

"I admire his courage and regret my cowardice."

Back in her bedroom, Hermione sat at the table, fiddling with a piece of paper under the dim orange light. She stared at the few lines on the paper, lost in thought.

It seemed like tonight was doomed.