Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Moreover, they all actually understand: with the headmaster’s style, once he becomes minister, many non-compliant benefits would face blows and suppression.

Foolishness, shortsightedness, corruption.

—That’s the current British Ministry of Magic.

Vid coldly sneered in his heart but ultimately said nothing.

He didn’t like to shout out his thoughts—saying the right thing felt unnecessary, saying the wrong thing seemed foolish, tolerance might invite contempt and covetousness, while harshness could draw distance and avoidance.

The young wizard lowered his lashes, lightly rubbing the edge of his teacup with his fingertips, appearing contemplative but with a detached expression.

He quietly lifted his eyes to look at Dumbledore, unsure of how the headmaster would view Grindelwald’s actions.

However, Dumbledore merely drank his honey water quietly, without a ripple on his face. Seeing Vid watching, he asked casually, ”Would you like some more honey water? Or juice?”

Dumbledore noticed that Vid’s cup was still not empty.

”No, no thanks.” Vid said, ”I’m not thirsty.”

”Alright then, enough chit-chat, let’s get down to business.”

Dumbledore set down his cup, as if also setting aside the Ministry’s machinations and various troublesome affairs, he got up and retrieved the familiar stone basin.

”If you hadn’t come to see me today, I would have invited you before curfew anyway.”

Dumbledore placed the Pensieve on the table and poured the memories from the crystal bottle into it, asking, ”Want to take a look? Horace’s memories of Tom Riddle.”

Vid approached the Pensieve, his fingertips touching the rim, watching the swirling silvery mist inside, and asked, ”Not waiting for Harry?”

”Not yet time.” Dumbledore gazed at the Pensieve, saying, ”Some truths require enough steadfastness and courage to bear. I don’t doubt Harry’s courage, but... we’ll wait a while longer.”

Privately, he wished to maintain Harry’s current happy and pure state as long as possible, not wanting him to bear those dark and heavy burdens, thus delaying the time to tell him the truth again and again.

As for Vid...

It’s not that Dumbledore didn’t want to protect Vid, but before he could intervene, Vid had already thrown Voldemort’s Soul Artifacts into the fire to burn them repeatedly, so many times that the headmaster began to feel sorry for the unknowing Tom.

Sometimes, Dumbledore suspected that Vid knew much more than he did; he could only quietly restrain Vid’s wild pace, fearing he might rush too fast and land himself in trouble.

Vid didn’t react much to Dumbledore’s words except to nod, then leaned forward, plunging into the darkness—falling into an office.

”Sir, I’d like to ask you something.”

A boy asked in a polite, tentative tone.