Hogwarts: From Selling White Peppers to Becoming a God

Chapter 231 Trust is a luxury

Dumbledore paused for a long while before finally saying, "Oh, that must be Jemini. He's a fool, but he doesn't like to admit it. He'll write back to every wizard who submits a manuscript, insulting them..."

"Unless the paper was written by a famous wizard—or at least recommended by a famous wizard..."

"Heh." Murphy sneered. This really is in line with wizarding tradition.

"Don't worry, I'll write you a letter of recommendation," Dumbledore said. "Such wisdom should not be buried."

"Thank you, Professor," Murphy said.

The two walked for a while and came to a rock next to the outer wall of the castle.

Murphy was pondering how to ask Dumbledore for the Philosopher's Stone when suddenly Dumbledore stopped.

Murphy noticed his gaze was fixed on a cliff near the castle, as if he were lost in thought. "Professor? What's wrong?"

"I remember there was a crying-face tree here, but it's gone," Dumbledore said.

"A crying-face tree?"

"It's an apple tree, growing right here in this crevice of the cliff. There are a few strangely shaped knots on its trunk, which look like mourning old men. And it's said that it's been enchanted, because every year one of its fruits is green and highly poisonous."

"Someone tried to prevent me from taking an exam by putting a green apple on my plate. Unfortunately, it was just an ordinary, unripe fruit. I still remember the taste of that apple; it was very sour. It's strange, when did it disappear?"

Murphy was taken aback. "You're not talking about your school days, are you? How long has it been since you've been here?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then suddenly sighed.

"It's strange, really. When I was in school, I was full of curiosity about this castle, but there were many places I wasn't allowed to explore. But after I became a professor and had the right to explore any area, I lost that interest. It's probably been decades since I last came here."

"In fact, taking walks and reflecting by this lake used to be something I did most often when I was young, but in the last ten years or so, you are probably the only person who has invited me to come here for a walk."

"They probably think you're too busy," Murphy said.

"Perhaps they just think I'm old and my legs aren't nimble enough, and they're afraid I'll trip over a stone and fall."

The old man even made a self-deprecating joke.

"Murphy, do you know what the best magic in the world is?"

"The best?" Murphy asked, puzzled. "A guardian angel?"

"Ah, guardian spirit, of course, repeatedly reliving those happy memories is not bad... but for memories, a better way to deal with them is actually to forget them."

"The most terrifying thing about being an old person is that you can always clearly recall every memory in your life."

"Every regret, every missed opportunity, every irreversible loss is like a sharp thorn lurking there, ready to jump out and prick you at any moment."

Even the beautiful things, the happy and blissful memories, still carry a bittersweet tinge. Because you know clearly that they are all in the past and will never happen again.

"You are already at the end of your life, and with each passing day, you drift further and further away from those golden years."

"Time is a burden," the old man said. "Perhaps you'll understand these words when you reach my age."

Dumbledore seemed to have many thoughts, but Murphy couldn't quite grasp the meaning of his words.

He frowned. "So, you don't yearn for immortality?"

"Immortality..." Dumbledore seemed lost in thought again, unaware of his purpose, before finally saying, "Strangely enough, I was just as fascinated by it when I was young."

"But later I gradually came to understand that longevity is suitable for those who are extremely lucky—those who, in the long course of time, only receive happiness and gifts, without any regrets. Or, it is suitable for those who are extremely cold and strong—in their lives, others and the world are insignificant, and therefore they can endure endless loneliness."

"You mean Nicolas Flamel and Voldemort?" Murphy said.

Dumbledore glanced at him. "Indeed, Nico is very lucky. And Tom..."

He paused for a moment, but ultimately did not comment on his former students.

"Actually, I also yearn for immortality," Murphy suddenly said. "In fact, I'd like to borrow that Philosopher's Stone to study it."

Dumbledore fell silent, seemingly taken aback by Murphy's bluntness.

"Professor, I've always found this strange."

"The Philosopher's Stone can be used to make gold and the elixir of immortality."

"No one dislikes gold, no one... well, perhaps except you, no one dislikes immortality."

"Your friend, Mr. Flamel, must have liked it too; otherwise, why would he have made it in the first place?"

"You say that immortality is suitable for at least two types of people, but doesn't anyone think that they might be as lucky as Flamel? Doesn't anyone think that they might also be able to live for six hundred years, rich and carefree, like Flamel?"

"However, this Philosopher's Stone is placed in the school, and more than a dozen professors know of its existence, but surprisingly, no one wants to take it out to study it?"

"Is everyone so detached from worldly desires?"

"To be honest, I always feel that our professors might all have some kind of psychological problem."

"Perhaps I am too greedy, but I have always considered myself a normal person, which makes me stand out from everyone else."

After a long pause, Dumbledore finally said, "The Philosopher's Stone is a treasure, but it belongs to Nico. None of us have the right to dispose of it."

"What if I wanted the recipe for the Philosopher's Stone and the formula for the elixir of immortality?" Murphy continued, "Could you ask Mr. Flamel for me?"

After another long silence, Dumbledore said with difficulty, "That is extremely dangerous knowledge... Both the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Immortality possess far too much power, enough to destroy many things we depend on for our existence."

"Few people can resist their temptations; most people will only become twisted as a result..."

Murphy looked at the old man. "So, you don't trust me?"

Dumbledore paused, taken aback.

"No, Murphy, I'm just saying we can't take that risk. Imagine if the power to create gold were abused, the gold coins in the wizards' hands would be worthless, and if the elixir of immortality were rampant... who would want to be responsible for future generations? Our society would collapse..."

"But the power is too tempting; no one can resist such an allure..."

"But your friend Nicolas Flamel can?" Murphy questioned.

"Nico... Nico is special. He's a hermit. All he wants is a peaceful life. He doesn't have much ambition, and he won't abuse these things..."

"So, you don't trust me," Murphy said, "just like you didn't trust Tom Riddle back then."

Dumbledore looked at him in surprise. "You know him?"

Murphy looked at him with a strange expression. "So many people have risked their lives for you, but most of them don't even know who they're fighting. You keep even the enemy's secrets to yourself. To be honest, I really don't understand, Professor."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment again. "Trust is a luxury, Murphy."

Murphy nodded. "I can accept that."

"You don't even trust yourself. How can you trust anyone else?"

"But do you still remember your views on the fundamental principles of magic?"

"As long as you believe in it, sincerely and without reservation, it will always bring you miracles."

"Isn't that right?"

(End of this chapter)