Victor decided to skip dinner. So did Daphne, for that matter—both were daunted by the prospect of running into Adele in the Great Hall. Daphne headed straight to her quarters, while Victor decided to drop by the hospital wing. As he approached the ward, he caught the sound of muffled voices.
— Very soon the Mandrakes will be fully matured, and Professor Snape will be able to brew the antidote, — Pomona Sprout was saying, adjusting her gloves.
— The sooner, the better. The poor children... But still, thank Merlin, they survived, — Madam Pomfrey replied.
Both turned at the rhythmic tapping of a cane. A couple of seconds later, Victor stepped into the ward.
— Good evening, Professor Sprout, Madam Pomfrey.
— Victor? Why aren't you at dinner? — Sprout asked in surprise.
Madam Pomfrey, however, frowned. Her first instinct was to step into the corridor, scan it suspiciously, and only then return to the ward.
— Confess right now: what did you manage to pull this time?
Victor couldn't help but chuckle.
— I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you this time. I haven't touched a soul.
Madam Pomfrey swept him with a stern glare.
— Listen to me, boy. If I find so much as a single beaten or unconscious student, I will throw you out the window. And then I will very slowly, one by one, knit your bones back together.
Victor shook his head wearily. Within Madam Pomfrey's domain, he had a highly questionable reputation, to say the very least.
— I only came to visit my friend.
The healer subjected him to a long, probing look, but quickly realized it was futile, as she couldn't see his eyes through the blindfold.
— Fine, I believe you this once. You may stay. Pomona, I think it's time we headed down to dinner as well.
Professor Sprout nodded. As she passed Victor, she placed a kind, reassuring hand on his shoulder.
— Don't worry, we'll have them all cured soon.
— Thank you, Professor, — Victor answered sincerely.
The women stepped out into the corridor, but didn't go far. Victor could perfectly hear their hushed whispering. A minute later, they peeked back into the ward.
— Listen, Victor... Would you mind answering a question, if it's not too much trouble? — Pomfrey began.
Victor, whose eyebrow had already begun to twitch slightly, knowing full well what they wanted to ask, gave a silent nod.
— You and Miss Greengrass... have you two started dating?
— No, that is not the case, — he replied calmly.
Madam Pomfrey frowned, exchanging a look with Sprout.
— So it's true then? You were dating, and you dumped her in front of the whole Hall?
— No, and that is also a lie.
The two women exchanged a knowing glance, as if arriving at a conclusion of their own, and finally hurried off toward the Great Hall. Once their footsteps faded, Victor laughed quietly. What had happened at lunch had become the main topic of the day at Hogwarts, and it seemed even the professors couldn't resist the temptation to gossip.
Once his laughter subsided, Victor calmed down completely and walked over to one of the beds deep inside the ward.
— Hermione, sweetie... How are you, dear? — he whispered, approaching the motionless girl. Leaning his cane against the nightstand, he gently sat on the edge of the bed, and then half-lay across the foot of it.
— Ah, right... How could you answer me? I hope you won't mind if I sit here for a bit. You know, the school has become incredibly dangerous lately. Even more dangerous than when the Basilisk was roaming the corridors, — he smiled softly and began to stroke Hermione's hair.
He had decided to wait things out here until Adele went to bed, hoping that by morning her wrath would cool at least a little.
— And to think Grandmother warned me... But I was always certain Adele would never hurt me. I actually adored that side of her. And I still adore it, ha-ha-ha! But she's getting craftier. She's like a perfect predator: sneaking up slowly, sitting by your side all sweet, waiting... But I have this feeling that the second I let my guard down, she'll tear into my throat.
He shook his head, staring into the void before him.
— Well, alright, I need to pass the time somehow. How about a bedtime story, dear? Would you like that?
A ringing silence filled the ward.
— Listen close then. This is a story about a girl who was willing to do absolutely anything for the one she loved. A story about a sweet, pink-haired girl named Yuno Gasai. It all begins when...
And Victor began to retell Future Diary. His voice would drop to a tender whisper as he stroked Hermione's head, then turn passionate and vivid when he reached the bloody scenes. He gestured actively, painting the anime's details in full color. Minutes slowly turned into hours. By the end of the tale, Victor was on his feet, swept up in inspiration.
— And so, Yuno from the First World kills herself, allowing Yuki to become God. But he is left completely alone, in a hollow, dead world... — he paused and suddenly smiled happily, throwing his hands up toward the ceiling. — But then, Yuno from the Third World regains her memories of her past lives! She breaks through space and time to reunite with Yuki, so they can rule together! Ahh... Now that is love. That is what a real girl should be like. Do you understand?
He frowned, looking down at the petrified Hermione.
— So what if she's cruel? What of it if she's insane? You know, dear, she earned her happy ending. It wasn't her fault she turned out that way—after all, you don't get to choose your parents. In some ways, she's like me... Except she killed hers almost by accident, whereas I... Hmm. Well, I relished every single moment. I stared at their bleeding bodies for a long time, drinking in the sight... Oh, if only there were a way to return to that exact moment... A wonderful, beautiful time...
Victor's cheeks flushed feverishly, his breathing quickened, and his lips stretched into a blissful, terrifying smile. Before his inner eye, the vivid picture of that night came alive once more. But suddenly, he shuddered and began to count out loud sharply, straining:
— ...eight, nine, ten! That's it. That's it... I need to calm down.
His breathing gradually evened out. The mad gleam in his aura faded away.
— I'm different now. I do not condone violence. Violence is bad. Even if they deserved it... Whew, — he pulled himself completely together. — Well then, sweetie, I think it's time for me to go.
He leaned over Hermione again and pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead.
— Sleep tight, Hermione. Very soon you'll be cured, and you can resume your raids on the school library.
With one last smile at Hermione, Victor picked up his cane and, after lingering for another moment, noiselessly slipped out of the ward. Walking through the dark nighttime corridors of Hogwarts, he cheerfully hummed the opening theme of Future Diary under his breath.
— Hello, — he greeted the gargoyle casually and stepped onto the spiral staircase, which immediately began its slow ascent.
Once inside the Headmaster's office, Victor set his cane aside and finally pulled off his blindfold. He opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the soft candlelight.
— To be quite frank, I thought you would never come back here again, — Dumbledore said quietly, looking at him.
Without a word, Victor made his way to his favorite armchair and slouched into it out of habit.
— And where else would I eat? I missed both lunch and dinner, — the moment he finished speaking, plates of food materialized on the table before him. — Besides, I'm not such a sensitive soul that I'd pout forever. Even though you definitely crossed all lines this morning... But fine. Friends have rifts sometimes.
Dumbledore stood up, walked over, and sat opposite the boy, silently watching as he dug into his meal.
— I must apologize, Victor, — he finally broke the silence. — I shouldn't have treated your sister that way.
— Oh, forget about it. I can understand your perspective, — Victor replied easily, not breaking away from his food.
Dumbledore nodded, but kept his gaze fixed intently on him, as if waiting for something else.
— What? — Victor asked, noticing the Headmaster wouldn't take his eyes off him.
— Well... I just apologized. Aren't you going to?
Victor's eyes went wide with surprise.
— Apologize? Me?! For what? Everything that happened this morning, you earned fair and square. And while I said I'm not holding a grudge, that doesn't mean I'm ready to forget it all. That is my sister. And no one—do you hear me?—no one has the right to harm her.
Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh, resigning himself. Deep down, he knew Victor was right: the fault lay with him, and demanding a reciprocal apology was pointless.
— Ha-ha-ha. Do you know what Harry did today? — he decided to steer the conversation elsewhere.
Victor nodded, continuing to chew.
— Yes. Freed the Malfoys' house-elf. It took quite a bit of effort on my part to burn out Riddle's soul without damaging the diary itself.
Dumbledore froze, his gaze turning sharp and piercing.
— What?
— What? — Victor echoed in the exact same tone. — I told you: I have my secrets. I know far more than you can possibly imagine.
— Where does such knowledge come from? — a hint of curiosity crept into the Headmaster's voice.
Victor merely smirked and shook his head.
— That, I won't tell.
— Then why lay it all out to me in the first place?
Victor shrugged, looking at the Headmaster with his blue eyes.
— Today, I decided to try being a bit more honest. To try being sincere with those around me. It's... a rather new experience for me.
Dumbledore nodded understandingly. He recognized himself in those words; he too had spent decades harboring knowledge that could alter the world, accustomed to bearing that weight entirely alone.
— Since you are in such a talkative mood today... Would you mind if I asked one more question?
— Shoot.
Dumbledore paused briefly, the familiar, mischievous twin sparks dancing in his eyes.
— So, what exactly is going on between you and the girl from the Greengrass family? Are you together, or did you really break up?
Victor looked at the inquisitive face of the greatest wizard of the modern era and let out a heavy sigh.
— Seriously? You too...