The Chronicles of Blood and Fire (HP Fanfic)

Snape gave a slight incline of his head and took his leave without another word.

"I apologize," Dumbledore continued, folding his hands behind his back. "I had to know. Vampires are known for their sensitivity to mind magic. I wished to see for myself."

"You could've told me," Caelum said evenly.

"If I had, it would have defeated the point of the test," Dumbledore replied, not unkindly. "Still… you noticed. Which tells me quite a lot."

They stood in a moment of silence, broken only by the quiet flutter of Fawkes rearranging his feathers.

"I've heard a great deal about you from your professors," Dumbledore said as he moved to sit behind his ornate desk. "Most speak of your… precision. Your restraint. And your aptitude far beyond your peers."

"They also said something about new assignments," Caelum said.

"Yes," Dumbledore smiled slightly. "We will not hold back your potential. Hogwarts is a place for growth, and growth should not be limited by age. If you are willing, your studies will be deepened."

Caelum gave a small nod.

"But more than that," Dumbledore continued, his expression sobering, "I wish to know more about you. About your life here, your aspirations. Your comfort—or discomfort. Is Hogwarts... treating you well, Caelum?"

Caelum tilted his head slightly. "It's school. I learn. That's enough."

"Is it?" the Headmaster asked, eyes twinkling just a little.

Caelum gave the barest of smiles. "For now."

"Fair answer," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "I only ask because I see the storm behind your calm. You have known hardship, Caelum. More than most. But Hogwarts is meant to be sanctuary as well as school. I hope you'll allow it to be both."

There was a quiet beat before Caelum responded. "Thank you. I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

Dumbledore nodded toward the door. "That will be all for tonight. I won't keep you from your sleep. But perhaps… in the future, we'll talk again. I have a feeling we might have much to learn from each other."

As Caelum turned to leave, Fawkes gave a low trill, almost approving.

And just before he stepped through the threshold, Dumbledore said one more thing, very softly—

"There is fire in you, Caelum. A rare kind. Do not let anyone dim it."

Caelum paused. Then walked on, the echo of the words staying behind him.

After the door clicked shut behind Caelum, a soft quiet returned to the room, broken only by the gentle ticking of enchanted instruments and the occasional crackle of fire in the hearth.

Dumbledore stood slowly from behind his desk and walked over to the arched window, where Fawkes sat perched in quiet dignity. The phoenix gave a low trill, almost like a whisper of understanding.

Albus rested a hand on the polished wood of the windowsill, eyes lingering in the distance beyond the castle walls.

"It is as I feared," he murmured to the bird. "He is indeed one of them."

Fawkes tilted his head, feathers glowing faintly in the dim light—his silence was more eloquent than any words.

From one of the portraits high above, a gentle voice stirred.

"Albus..."

It was Niamh Fitzgerald, former Headmistress and skilled practitioner of ancient magic. She leaned forward from her painted chair, brow furrowed under a silver circlet.

"They are long gone. You know that."

Dumbledore's eyes didn't waver. "Yes. But we also know that the seed remains. And this time, it is sprouting."

A gust of wind pressed softly against the windowpanes. Fawkes shifted, then let out a single clear note that echoed through the office like a quiet warning.

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, then turned back to the center of the room.

"And I fear," he said softly, more to himself than to anyone else, "the world is not yet ready for what that means."