"Principal Dumbledore, can you provide me with some flour, eggs, milk and butter? If there is Gordigan, it would be even better!"

"Of course no problem!" Dumbledore knocked on the table, and in just a few breaths, all the necessary materials were placed on the table.

"I have always wanted to imitate the taste of that piece of bread, which may be the reason for my failure..." Vizette murmured as he looked at the materials on the table.

"After returning from the mirror world, I understand one thing... No one's experience is exactly the same! So I can't imitate the taste of that piece of bread exactly the same."

"What I need to do is to create my own unique flavor and spell based on my own experience..."

"Wingardium Leviosa, flour flying high in the sky, milk, butter and eggs come, respond to the call and form a ball..."

As the wand was waved, various materials floated into the air and slowly gathered into a dough.

"The dough is shaped as you like, it rotates and circles back and forth, the gold root is cut to extract the essence, the flavor is unique and the heart is at ease..."

The color of the dough is becoming more and more uniform, twisting and stretching back and forth under the effect of magic;

The gold root integrated into it shines like an emerald.

Weizet has a wonderful feeling. During the casting process, he does not feel any unfamiliarity or obscurity, but only feels free.

Even the spell that guides the magic is easily blurted out, without any tongue twisters...

After the dough is fully formed, he raised his wand high, and the dough flew up and down in the air, sometimes like a reckless bludger, sometimes like a clever golden snitch...

Dumbledore's eyes were bright, with a smile on his face, watching the dough flying in the air.

"Principal Dumbledore, can you please help me?" Weizet wiped the sweat from his forehead. After the baptism of magic, the dough was swelling little by little.

"Do you need me to light the fire?" Dumbledore's voice suddenly became hoarse, his eyes lost focus, and he seemed to recall something, "I... am I honored?"

Weizet smiled brightly, "Principal Dumbledore, should I be honored to ask you to help me? After all, you are the first person in the world to help me..."

"I have gained something in this school year, and I need to thank all the professors. Without your help, I would not have learned so much magic knowledge!"

"Okay! Happy to serve!" Dumbledore bowed and gave an impeccable salute.

He waved his wand, and a beautiful orange-red flame burned, wrapping the swollen dough in it.

The dough was like a phoenix reborn from the ashes, constantly stretching and expanding in the flames, undergoing a transformation.

The beautiful memories of this year were also transformed in the flames, turning into purer emotions...

When the surface of the dough became more and more crispy, it made a "crackling" sound, and the rich onion fragrance permeated the entire room through the flames.

Vizette felt as if a blessing had come to him. He was also casting a spell, and the curse came out of his mouth naturally, "Curse the evil thoughts to burn in the flames, and the remaining soul is the purest..."

In the principal's office, all the principals who were still on the wall woke up.

They seemed to be able to smell the rich onion fragrance, and they all showed curious eyes and looked at the two people who were baking bread.

"What on earth has happened to Hogwarts?" A black-haired, goateed headmaster said, "The headmaster of Hogwarts is actually... baking bread?"

"How can he do the work of a house elf? This school has... fallen to this level? Enough! It would be better to let our family..."

"Phineas Black, just say less!" said the female headmaster on the side, "Aren't you surprised? Didn't you smell the smell on the bread?"

"Delise Devonte, what are you talking about? We can't..." Phineas Black was about to refute, but his face suddenly changed, "How could this be..."

"We can feel the smell at the soul level." Delyse Devonte said softly, "This year's Hogwarts has produced an amazing student!"

"Haha! During the years when I was the headmaster, I also produced an... amazing student!" Phineas Black said unyieldingly.

"Okay! I know, you go and get busy!" Delyse Devonte nodded casually, as if coaxing a child to take medicine.

"Haha!" Phineas Black sneered, and took another look at the bread in the fire. He seemed to have made a great determination in his heart, and then he disappeared from the frame.

...

The onion fragrance was so strong that even Fawkes, who usually only ate herbs and berries, flew above the flames, his bright eyes full of curiosity.

"Weaving a food poem, with a unique style and emotional infusion!"

When Vizette finished reading the last sentence, Dumbledore also dissipated the flames in time.

A piece of bread floated quietly in the air, with a layer of crispy crust on the surface, and the amber color made people salivate.

Smelling the rich onion fragrance, Vizette heard his stomach growling.

After fighting in the mirror world for a long time, he asked Salazar Slytherin for a lot of knowledge, and finally returned to the headmaster's office to cast a spell to make bread...

He neither ate nor drank water in the middle, and at this moment, he was aroused by the fragrance of bread and immediately felt extremely hungry.

"This was an oversight on my part!" Dumbledore laughed and shook his head. "I'm not like my usual self anymore...I even forgot to give you a few candies."

He gently hooked his hand, and there was an extra dinner plate on the table, and the floating bread flew over and was cut into several pieces by him.

"Eat it quickly, this is your masterpiece! Very skilled in the magic of life, you learned a lot from Aberforth."

Wizette nodded, and his action of tearing open the bread was a little rough, and many crispy bread shells fell on the table.

The aroma of wheat, green onions and a slight sweetness were intertwined together, and he felt the real taste of home from this piece of bread.

There is no doubt that the creation of Magic Bread was a huge success.

Although it was not as good as Aberforth's bread, it had the flavor that Wizette wanted.

This experience of making magic bread allowed him to slightly touch the threshold of the soul, which can be said to kill two birds with one stone.

"There's still a lot...you can eat it slowly, don't be in a hurry." Dumbledore said softly, pushing over a cup of tea and a few sizzling honey candies.

He seemed to have figured out something, and his voice became a little deeper, "Actually, the reason why I asked you to come here today is to let you pass through the Mirror of Erised to see if you can trigger the magic above."

"I just didn't expect... I happened to go out, and Fox opened the door for you... Sometimes things are like this, one thing happens after another, but it gets worse and worse..."

Chapter 129 Dumbledore: I can guarantee it with my life!

Dumbledore's tone was strange, as if he was confessing something.

"Maybe I really can't do anything...I ruin everything because of a momentary decision, making everyone suffer and pay for me..."

He blinked slowly, the look in his eyes getting darker and darker.

"At that time, the connection between Fox and you became very weak... That place must be dangerous, right? I have to say to you here... I'm sorry..."

Wizette looked at Dumbledore inexplicably, feeling something was wrong, "Principal Dumbledore, are you okay?"

He suddenly thought of his past life and the old director of the orphanage who had passed away.

When the old dean was young, he might have acted out of impulse, or he might have conflicts of ideas, and the relationship with his family would become increasingly tense, and he might even run away from home in anger, never to return;

By the time he reached middle age, the old dean had his own business, but he also experienced intrigues in the business world;

When the old dean wanted to get back together with his family, he received the bad news that his family members had died one after another, which shocked him greatly;

Until later, the old dean received a plastic bag full of change, which was the money he had given to an orphan. Unexpectedly, the orphan found him again and returned the money;

What surprised him the most was that the orphan turned out to be his lost grandnephew;

Since then, he established a welfare home, gained the identity of the director of the welfare home, and gradually shifted his focus to the welfare home.

Despite this, in his previous life, Weizet would also see the old dean alone in grief, licking the wounds of the past alone, enduring the pain of never seeing his loved ones again.

Dumbledore's current state was very similar to the old dean's state of mental distress.

They all feel unspeakable pain because of various experiences in the past. At the same time, they must endure the suffering silently because of the responsibilities they shoulder.

However, it was Dumbledore in this state that made Wizette feel closer to him.

Compared to a person who is "recognized as the greatest wizard of our time" with a series of titles such as Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, President of the International Federation of Wizards, and Grand Wizard, Dumbledore at this moment is actually more real.

He has both a great side and a torment that needs to be endured alone.

It's just that he rarely exposes this kind of suffering, not even Aberforth has seen it, but he is lucky enough to see it...

Dumbledore murmured: "I cared too little for them... Everything that happened now was caused by me... I even made the same mistakes again, until the second bad result occurred..."

His palms had been clenched into fists, and it seemed that his nails could be vaguely stained with a shocking color of blood.

Wizette took a deep breath and made sure to speak clearly enough before shouting: "Principal Dumbledore!"

"I seem to have talked too much." Dumbledore showed his newly awakened look, and helplessness quickly appeared on his face, "I will always be more relaxed in front of you."

"Maybe it's because... I have received many Christmas gifts for more than ten years. But your only gift is a box of colorful candies. I really like it!"

He glanced at the dark night and said, "It's getting late. You should be exhausted too. Go back and rest!"

Weizet shook his head and said slowly: "When I was studying at the Pig Head Bar, I observed those wizards dueling. Before the duel, they would always use verbal provocation."

"It seems that he wants to use this method to interfere with the mentality of the wizard on the other side. Principal Dumbledore... This is Voldemort's way of interfering with you, that's all."

"Perhaps I was indeed disturbed." Dumbledore's tone was filled with self-blame, "If Harry hadn't been protected, if you weren't the Guardian..."

"Maybe Harry will be killed by the Death Curse, or maybe Voldemort's conspiracy will succeed and get help from Obscurus. I really don't want to involve you..."

Weizet shook his head and continued: "That's all hypothetical. Harry is lying well in the school hospital, and I am still alive and kicking."

"It's not that you got us involved, but Voldemort coveted the Obscurus. He asked Professor Quirrell to teach me just to make the Obscurus go berserk."

"I don't know Harry's situation, but if it weren't for Harry, he wouldn't have fallen more than ten years ago. I think... he must hate Harry."

"I think not only I need to rest, but you also need to relax. You have taken on a lot of things, and I can feel it from the few words revealed by Mr. Aberforth."

Dumbledore crossed his fingers, a little nervous, "What did he say to you?"

Tap the screen to use advanced tools Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.

You'll Also Like