Dumbledore had always believed that as long as he could expose and organize Grindelwald's crimes, he could prevent all the tragedies that were destined to follow.
Hearing Garfield speak so calmly about the inevitability of war shattered that belief.
For the first time in a long while, disappointment showed plainly on Dumbledore's face.
"Why… must it be this way?" He asked.
Garfield sighed.
"Old Bee." He said uncharacteristically gently, "There are many good people in this world."
"And there will always be a handful of bad ones who ride the tide of chaos, stirring trouble to satisfy their own ambitions."
He paused, then continued, "What you're doing isn't wrong. Stopping Grindelwald, that is your destiny."
"As for the other monsters?" Garfield shrugged. "They're not yours to deal with. Others will step forward."
"The future of this world was never meant to rest on the shoulders of a single man."
He smiled faintly. "As long as everyone gives you a little kindness, the world can still move toward something better."
Dumbledore was a great man of his era. Aside from Merlin himself, few wizards could match his wisdom or resolve.
After a brief silence, he steadied himself, casting aside his momentary despair with astonishing speed.
His recovery was so fast it could have put a Sichuan opera face-changer to shame.
"You're right." Dumbledore said softly. "Most people do not want war. They don't crave bloodshed."
His gaze grew distant.
"I still remember the battlefield at Versailles. That narrow stretch of land… it became a meat grinder. Countless lives were lost there."
Garfield fell silent.
That war had marked an entire generation, not only Dumbledore.
As the memory surfaced, another figure briefly crossed Garfield's mind, a certain mustached politician rising rapidly in the Muggle world, backed by forces far darker than ordinary ambition.
In different worlds, different names existed.
In one, there was Hydra.
In another, Grindelwald stood behind the curtain.
Elsewhere… other shadows waited.
The world was complicated. Garfield chose not to say any of that aloud.
Instead, he spoke calmly, as if discussing the weather.
"Old Bee, this war is not only your pain. What's coming is the delayed eruption of contradictions left behind by the First World War."
"Sometimes." He added, "Letting things erupt sooner is better, like a flood or a volcano."
"The longer the pressure builds, the more devastating the explosion." He glanced at Dumbledore sideways.
"If you're brave enough, I actually have a rather crazy suggestion."
"I'm listening." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
Garfield turned his head, glanced briefly at his own tail, then reconsidered.
"…Never mind. That would be a nightmare to explain later." Then his expression sharpened.
"Don't stop Grindelwald."
"…?!" Dumbledore.
"Push things forward instead." Garfield continued evenly. "Disrupt his position. Interfere with his plans."
"Force those conspirators hiding behind him to reveal themselves."
"Use the chaos to rise decisively and bring everything back under control before it escapes the boundaries you set."
When he finished, Garfield looked thoroughly pleased with himself.
To think, he mused, that one day I'd be advising the greatest wizard in history.
Not bad.
Really not bad at all.
Dumbledore fell into deep thought. After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice solemn.
"I will need time to consider this. If we truly proceed this way, the difficulties will be… immense."
Garfield nodded.
"Tell me what you need. I'll do what I can to help." He scratched his ear. "After all, this mess is partly my fault."
"If I hadn't handed him over to the Ministry of Magic back then, he wouldn't have escaped."
Dumbledore rolled his eyes.
He could clearly hear the subtext, your Ministry is unreliable and some of your people are compromised.
"I understand," Dumbledore said calmly. "Thank you for the reminder."
Garfield looked up innocently. "Reminder? What reminder?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Ah. I must have misheard."
Garfield nodded sagely.
"It happens when people get older. Drinking more honey water helps. Though be careful, too much can cause diabetes."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"For that." He said, "The wizarding world has potions that can both prevent and cure it."
"Oh." Garfield blinked.
"…That's cheating."
Hearing Dumbledore mention the potion, Garfield's thoughts drifted far beyond the room.
In the future, countless people wizard and Muggle alike, would suffer from this disease. If such a potion already existed… could it be refined and used to ease that suffering?
Lowering his voice, Garfield asked. "Is the cost of this potion high?"
Dumbledore frowned slightly and recalled the formula and brewing process in detail. After a moment, he shook his head.
"The process is quite cumbersome." He admitted. "It requires advanced operational skill, and the potion master must be highly experienced. The cost… is indeed not low."
Garfield tilted his head. "Roughly how much?"
"Accounting for ingredients, labor, and the potion master's fee." Dumbledore replied, "Around fifty gold Galleons per dose."
Garfield's ears twitched. "And how many doses does a patient need?"
"About ten." Dumbledore did a quick calculation.
Garfield fell silent.
Fifty Galleons was no small sum. For an ordinary wizarding family, that amount represented years of savings.
Yet compared to the value of a life or decades of suffering, it was not unreasonable.
From his pocket, Garfield produced a small notebook and quietly wrote a few lines.
Flagship medicine. Medical division. Public benefit.
"This price." Garfield said thoughtfully, "Is not outrageous by human standards. With proper organization, it can be reduced further."
He looked up at Dumbledore."We can cooperate in the future. The question is, who should I work with?"
"The Ministry of Magic?"
"You personally?"
"Or Hogwarts?"
Three choices… Authority. Power. Education.
Dumbledore didn't hesitate.
"Let's work with Hogwarts." He said. "It allows students to practice advanced potion-making, and it also eases the school's financial pressure."
Garfield stared at him for a moment, then silently raised a paw in approval.
"Old Bee," He said seriously, "I admire that."
"Most people would choose themselves first, and the Ministry second. Almost no one would choose Hogwarts."
Dumbledore smiled faintly.
"Hogwarts is my home." He replied. "Everything I achieved in the Ministry began with the teachers and students there."
"Choosing the school is… only natural."
Garfield understood.
To Dumbledore, the students were not tools or resources. They were children. And Hogwarts was not an institution, it was a responsibility.
A candle burning itself away to light the future.
History would one day remember him as a great wizard.
But what history would never fully record was how quietly he gave everything he had to the next generation.
"Garfield." Dumbledore's voice broke his thoughts.
Garfield looked up. "Yes, Old Bee?"
Dumbledore hesitated briefly, then asked. "Have you considered teaching at Hogwarts? I think you would be very suitable."
Garfield froze.
"…Teaching?" He shook his head immediately. "Defense Against the Dark Arts? No interest. History of Magic is painfully boring."
"Potions? I don't know the first thing about brewing." He counted on his claws.
"As for spells, McGonagall and the others are already top-tier. None of that suits me."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"Then find something that does suit you." He said calmly. "I'll convince the Board of Governors."
Garfield rubbed his chin. A bold, dangerous, and extremely interesting idea began to take shape in his mind.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream