Hogwarts: A Chinese-Style Professor

Chapter 197 The Sealed Letter
When Li Wei returned to his office, Sirius was waiting for him there.

Upon hearing the door open, he, who had been lazily sitting by the French windows admiring the moonlight, suddenly straightened his back.

"Why are you here?"

“I’m waiting for you—I want to thank you in person for what you’ve done for me.”

Sirius's voice was hoarse.

Li Wei closed the door, casually took off his wizard's robe and hung it up, and said indifferently:

"If it's just a thank you, there's no need to say anything more; your sentiments have already been conveyed."

No—that's far from enough.

After Levi and the others left, Sirius and Harry had a long conversation—they talked about many things, about Harry's parents, about everything that had happened, about his role as Harry's godfather, who was now the closest person to Harry in the world, and about the strong sense of responsibility and obligation he felt.

All of this filled Sirius with genuine joy and happiness.

"The Ministry of Magic has dropped the warrant for my arrest, and the relevant documents will be released in a while—when I was in my most difficult time, when no one was willing to believe me, it was you who chose to trust me and helped me."

He paused for a moment, carefully choosing the most solemn words.

“I don’t know how you figured all this out, but I do know that I, Sirius Black, owe you a debt I can never repay—whatever you need, come to me!”

Since the other party has gone this far, it would seem somewhat impolite and arrogant not to respond.

Li Wei turned to look at Sirius Black and nodded.
"I appreciate your sincerity. If I ever need your help, I will ask you for it."

"Then it's settled!"

Sirius's eyes were incredibly bright, as if stars were hidden within them.

He walked up to Li Wei, intending to pat him hard on the shoulder, but then felt it wouldn't be appropriate.

He swung his hand, which was halfway up, with force, his voice sincere and full of energy:

"Anytime, anywhere, just say the word and I'll be there! Even if you want to tear down the foundations of the Ministry of Magic, I'll be your vanguard!"

"Thank you for your kindness."

Li Wei was both amused and exasperated by his behavior, and turned to go back to his room.

But Sirius's voice rang out again.

"Li Wei—"

He turned his head and saw Sirius somewhat embarrassedly hooking his cheek with his finger.

I said—can I stay here with you for a while longer?

Li Wei turned his head and looked at Sirius with a blank expression—so that's what was waiting for him here.

“I don’t have to live here—but I hope I can come to you during the day—I can continue to be your pet, and I will appear in animal form at school.”

Sirius repeatedly assured everyone.

"You should know that your Animagus is no longer a secret, right?"

“I know—” Sirius looked at Levi hopefully, “but I think you can get Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore to turn a blind eye.”

After all, Sirius had witnessed Li Wei's behavior in the infirmary—and after being "reunited" with his godson, he learned a great deal about Li Wei.

Even after hearing about many things, he couldn't help but praise them as remarkable—for example, Levi single-handedly created the most outstanding and extraordinary class of students at Hogwarts; Levi proposed the "One Day of Freedom"; and he even found Ravenclaw's tiara and shared it with them!
Several things he did were quite to Sirius's liking—he hadn't realized before that Levi was such an interesting person.

James was right—if he had brought Levi into the Marauders, things would have been much more interesting—and he wouldn't have replaced the Secret Service with Peter, and all the tragedy could have been avoided. It's a pity—alas, he should have tried to persuade them together with James.

Li Wei glanced at Sirius.

“Hogwarts does not allow outsiders to enter. If you want to do this, you should go to Dumbledore, not me.”

Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.

Dumbledore, who had parted on bad terms with Livy, was still awake, sitting silently in his chair. The portraits on the wall sensed his unease and all closed their eyes and mouths, pretending to be asleep.

Time flowed slowly in silence, exuding a depressing stillness.

It felt like an entire century had passed.

The figure in the seat finally let out a sigh from the deepest part of their heart.

He slowly raised his head, and his usually bright blue eyes, which shone with wisdom, now appeared very dim.

In this world, there was someone who was closest to him and knew him best, who once made a judgment about him:
There is no power in this world that can stop him from becoming—a self-righteous jerk.

Dumbledore never doubted this—but after tonight, he began to believe it.

At the same time, he felt lost and terrified—because he was watching another young man headed towards the same outcome. But he was old, and there was no other Dumbledore in the world who could stop the future Levi.
Dumbledore slowly rose, his movements as if he were carrying a thousand-pound burden—he stopped in front of a small box placed in front of a bookshelf.

Instead of using a wand, he took out an old-fashioned brass key from the inside pocket of his robe.

"Click."

The soft click of the key turning in the lock was particularly jarring in the silence.

The box was opened, and inside lay quietly rows of yellowed letters; nothing else.

Dumbledore reached out and took out all the letters.

"Ugh--"

He sighed, lit an oil lamp, and sat down to read through the letters.

The envelope was unsigned, but he knew the handwriting by heart.

At first, Dumbledore read very slowly.

But when he saw some words that made his face flush and his heart race, he began to read the letters at a faster pace.
When he unknowingly saw the last letter, he once again fell into a daze.
After an unknown amount of time, when the candlelight had dimmed, Dumbledore picked up a quill and spread a piece of parchment out straight in front of him.

He took a deep breath and became serious.

But he couldn't bring himself to write.

But in the end, some indescribable force and sense of urgency compelled him to write:
Gellert.

After so long, I'm writing to you again.

Yes, I remember—I said I would never write to you again.

But now, I accept your apology, though I did accept it many years ago.

But I don't know what else I can do, I can only beg you to be patient with me.
I am sending this letter to you because of my deepest trust in you.

I want to talk to you about someone, someone we've never cared about before.

(End of this chapter)