In a flash of fire, Earl vanished from the skies above Hogwarts.
The next moment, the owl found himself inside a large circular office lined wall-to-wall with portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses. Delicate silver instruments whirred softly across nearby shelves, and moonlight spilled through tall windows onto a massive desk at the centre of the room.
Behind the desk sat an old man with a long white beard.
Nearby, a phoenix with scarlet feathers rested elegantly upon a golden perch.
Earl stared at it thoughtfully for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
"You know," he said seriously, "I don't support bestiality."
Dumbledore blinked.
Then he laughed warmly like a cheerful grandfather hearing nonsense from a mischievous child.
"Ah," he said pleasantly, "when one reaches my age, it becomes increasingly difficult to understand modern phrases."
"I apologise for interrupting your date."
"How apologetic?" Earl immediately asked while tilting his head.
"…Hm."
Even Dumbledore needed a moment to recover from that one.
"Hurry up and ask whatever you want," Earl continued impatiently. "Every second wasted here is one less field mouse I could've caught. Wizards always talk too much. That's why none of you ever catch mice."
"Even in the wizarding world," Dumbledore said calmly while studying the owl over his half-moon spectacles, "talking owls are exceptionally rare."
He smiled gently.
"May I know your name? I should probably introduce myself first. Albus Dumbledore."
"Earl is starving and wants to eat field mice," the owl answered dryly.
Dumbledore casually waved his wand.
A large, healthy grey rat instantly appeared on the desk.
Earl's eyes sharpened immediately.
He launched himself forward, seized the rat by the throat, and began violently murdering it across the Headmaster's expensive paperwork.
Blood splattered everywhere.
Dumbledore merely watched peacefully.
"Well," Earl mumbled happily through mouthfuls of rat, "you're already more useful than most little wizards. They just stand around saying things like 'I love you.'"
He swallowed loudly.
"Since you're so sensible, I'll grant you a wish. I can help steal that old Grindelwald fellow's underwear if you want—"
"In fact," Dumbledore interrupted smoothly, "my wishes are somewhat simpler than that."
Earl paused.
Then his giant eyes narrowed suspiciously.
This owl knew slightly too much.
"Oh?" Earl rotated his head slowly. "Wait. Don't tell me you and that Grindelwald bloke actually—"
"I would like to ask you three questions," Dumbledore said calmly before the owl could continue.
"Fine," Earl replied while licking rat blood from his beak. "But you still owe me two more mice."
"First question." Dumbledore folded his hands together. "Where do you come from?"
"An egg," Earl answered immediately. "A bloody bird egg, obviously. I used to be smaller than a field mouse myself."
He puffed his feathers proudly.
"Then the tree I lived in got chopped down by some old fellow called John, so I moved into his house instead. He was around your size, actually. Better personality too."
"Because he couldn't talk," Earl added helpfully.
Dumbledore smiled faintly.
"Second question. Why did you choose Ethan?"
Earl froze.
Then his enormous eyes widened with horror.
"…You're his father?"
The owl looked genuinely shaken.
"That's incredible. Disturbing, but incredible. Humans really shouldn't be capable of—"
"Ten years ago," Dumbledore interrupted calmly, "some colleagues and I discovered Ethan inside a dark magic laboratory."
His voice softened slightly.
"He was… an experiment."
"You almost said weapon," Earl replied instantly. "And honestly? Accurate."
The owl's feathers puffed up anxiously.
"People say you're an incredibly powerful wizard. Can you break Owl Purchase Contracts? Because if Ethan ever decides to eat me, I'm leaving Britain immediately. No—Europe. No—the entire planet."
"Unfortunately," Dumbledore admitted gently, "I do not know how to undo that particular spell."
Earl looked devastated.
"However," Dumbledore continued, "there is no reason to fear a child so completely."
"That depends heavily on whether the child is technically human," Earl muttered while nervously scraping blood off his beak.
Dumbledore leaned back quietly in his chair.
Under the silver moonlight, with stars embroidered across his robes, he suddenly looked less like the greatest wizard alive and more like a tired old man nearing the end of a very long journey.
"When the Aurors first found Ethan," Dumbledore said softly, "many believed the safest solution was killing him immediately."
Earl slowly froze.
"The Ministry actually tried?" he whispered.
Dumbledore sighed.
"Yes."
Then he smiled faintly.
"Fortunately, Ethan survived."
"My God," Earl muttered while staring blankly into space. "I suddenly understand why people are trying to build rockets."
He smacked his beak thoughtfully.
"Dementors absolutely should not be allowed near outer space. There are no souls up there."
"Ethan is a good boy," Dumbledore said firmly. "I hope you'll help him."
"Wonderful," Earl replied. "I can teach him how to hunt field mice first. Then we'll move on to mail delivery."
The owl nodded proudly.
"He'd make an excellent owl eventually. Assuming he grows feathers and claws."
Dumbledore chuckled softly.
"Helping someone doesn't always require magic," he said while winking at the bird. "Sometimes companionship alone is enough."
"Thank you," he added quietly, "for listening to an old man ramble in the middle of the night."
With another wave of his wand, the office window swung open.
"Wait."
Just as Earl prepared to leave, he suddenly stopped and landed back on the windowsill.
"You traded one rat for three questions," the owl pointed out suspiciously. "You only asked two."
Somehow, Earl felt absolutely certain Dumbledore planned to use the final question for something dangerous.
He silently swore never to trust free rodents from smiling old men again.
"Oh dear," Dumbledore said, pretending sudden realization. "You're absolutely right."
Then his eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Would you like wool socks for Christmas?"
…
Earl stared at him stiffly.
"You'd better be joking."
Then the owl turned around, stuck his rear feathers directly toward Dumbledore, and launched himself into the night sky.
"Dumbledore really does seem like a good person…"
Far away, Ethan observed the entire scene silently through his wandering soul form.
Of course, there remained a possibility Dumbledore intentionally performed this whole conversation because he knew Ethan was watching.
If that were true, the old man had far too much free time.
Still…
Ethan no longer felt particularly worried about turning into some world-destroying undead monster.
Then suddenly—
A thought struck him.
Wait.
Dumbledore said the Aurors tried killing him when he was discovered.
Multiple times.
Ethan's expression slowly changed.
Or…
Suddenly, everything made sense.
That explained why his fragmented soul remained strangely complete.
It explained why devouring over three hundred souls as an infant still left his soul integrity painfully low.
Because his original soul—
Had probably been shattered repeatedly by Aurors trying to kill him.
....
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