Hogwarts: From Luna's House to Godhood Through Intense Competition

"Headmaster Dumbledore, could you provide me with some flour, eggs, milk, and butter? Gordigan would be even better!"

“Of course, no problem!” Dumbledore tapped the table, and within a few breaths, all the necessary materials were laid out on the table.

“I’ve always wanted to imitate the taste of that bread, and that’s probably why I failed…” Vizet murmured, looking at the ingredients on the table.

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

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

"Yugadimu Leviosa, flour floats high into the sky, milk, butter, and eggs come, quickly respond to the call and gather together..."

With a wave of the wand, various materials floated into the air and slowly gathered into a dough.

"Shape the dough as you please, rotate and circle back to its origin, cut the Gordigan to extract its essence, and enjoy its unique flavor with a carefree heart..."

The dough became more and more even in color, and under the influence of magic, it twisted and stretched back and forth.

The Gordigen, integrated into it, shines like an emerald.

Vizette had a strange feeling; during the spellcasting process, he felt neither unfamiliar nor obscure, but only free and at ease.

Even the incantations for guiding magic came out effortlessly, without any difficulty in pronouncing them...

Once the dough was fully formed, he raised his wand high, and the dough tumbled and flew through the air, sometimes like a clumsy, wandering ball, sometimes like a nimble golden thief...

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, and a smile played on his lips as he watched the dough dance in the air.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, could you please help me?" Vizet wiped the sweat from her brow. The dough was slowly rising after being baptized by magic.

"Do you need me to start a fire?" Dumbledore's voice suddenly became hoarse, his eyes unfocused, as if recalling something. "I...am I deserving of that honor?"

Vizette smiled brightly. "Headmaster Dumbledore, shouldn't I be the one asking you for help? After all, you're the first person in the world to help me..."

"I owe my success this academic year to all the professors. Without their help, I wouldn't have been able to learn so much magic!"

“Very well! I’d be happy to oblige!” Dumbledore bowed slightly, giving an impeccable salute.

He waved his wand, and a beautiful orange-red flame blazed up, enveloping the swollen dough.

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the dough stretches and expands in the flames, undergoing a transformation.

The beautiful memories of this year are also transformed in the flames, turning into a purer emotion...

As the dough becomes increasingly crispy, making a "crunching" sound, the rich aroma of scallions permeates the entire room through the flames.

Vizette felt a surge of divine inspiration. He too was casting a spell, and the incantation naturally escaped his lips: "Curse evil thoughts to ashes, leaving only the purest soul..."

……

Inside the principal's office, all the principals who remained on the wall had woken up.

They seemed to smell the rich aroma of scallions as well, and looked on with curiosity at the two people baking bread.

"What on earth happened at Hogwarts?" a headmaster with a full head of black hair and a goatee asked. "The headmaster of Hogwarts was actually... baking bread?"

"How could he do house-elves' work? This school has actually... fallen to this level? Enough is enough! It would be better to just let our family continue..."

“Phineas Black, just shut up!” the female headmistress said. “Aren’t you surprised? Can’t you smell the bread?”

“Delise Deventer, what are you saying? We’re already out of options…” Phineas Black was about to retort when his expression suddenly changed. “How could this be…”

“We can sense the essence of the soul,” Delis Devont said softly. “This year’s Hogwarts has produced a remarkable student!”

“Heh! During my years as principal, I also had a… remarkable student!” Phineas Black said defiantly.

“Okay! I understand, you can go ahead and get busy!” Dalys Deventer nodded casually, as if coaxing a child to take medicine.

"Heh!" Phineas Black sneered, glanced at the bread in the fire again, and seemed to have made a great decision in his heart before disappearing from the picture frame.

……

The aroma of scallions was so intense that even Fox, who usually only ate herbs and berries, soared above the flames, his bright eyes brimming with curiosity.

"Weaving a culinary poem, infused with unique style and emotion!"

As Vizette finished reciting her last words, Dumbledore extinguished the flames.

A piece of bread floats quietly in the air, its surface covered with a crisp, flaky crust, its amber color making it incredibly tempting.

Smelling the rich aroma of scallions, Vizet heard his stomach rumble.

After fighting for a long time in the Mirror World and learning a great deal from Salazar Slytherin, he finally returned to the Headmaster's office to cast a spell to bake bread...

He had neither eaten nor drunk anything along the way, but the aroma of the bread now made him feel extremely hungry.

“This was my oversight!” Dumbledore laughed and shook his head. “I wasn’t even myself… I even forgot to give you a few candies.”

He gently beckoned, and a plate appeared on the table, along with a piece of floating bread that he cut into several pieces.

"Eat up, this is your masterpiece! A very skillful life magic, you've learned a lot from Aberforth."

Vizette nodded, tearing the bread somewhat roughly, causing a lot of crispy crust to fall onto the table.

The aroma of wheat, scallions, and a hint of sweetness mingled together, and he felt the true taste of home from this bread.

Without a doubt, the magic bread was a great success.

Although it couldn't compare to Aberforth's bread, it had the flavor that Wizette wanted.

This experience of making magic bread allowed him to briefly touch the threshold of the soul, which can be described as killing two birds with one stone.

“There’s still plenty… You can eat slowly, don’t rush.” Dumbledore’s tone was gentle as he pushed over a cup of tea and a few honey candies.

He seemed to have figured something out, and his voice became a few degrees deeper, "Actually, the reason I asked you to come here today was to let you see if you could trigger the magic on the Mirror of Eris."

"I just didn't expect... that I happened to be out, and that Fox happened to open the door for you... Sometimes things are like that, one 'coincidence' after another, but it just gets worse and worse..."

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

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

"Perhaps I really can't do anything... ruining everything because of a momentary decision, causing everyone pain, and making them pay the price for me..."

He blinked slowly, his eyes growing increasingly dim.

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

Vizette looked at Dumbledore with a puzzled expression, sensing something was wrong. "Headmaster Dumbledore, are you alright?"

He suddenly thought of his past life and the deceased director of the welfare home.

When the old dean was young, he may have acted impulsively or due to ideological conflicts, which made his relationship with his family increasingly tense. He even ran away from home in a fit of pique and never returned.

By middle age, the old dean had his own business, but he also experienced the deceit and treachery of the business world.

When the old dean wanted to reconcile with his family, he was devastated to receive the devastating news that his family members had passed away one after another.

Later, the old director received a plastic bag full of loose change. It was money he had given to an orphan, but unexpectedly, the orphan came to him again and returned the money.

What surprised him most was that the orphan turned out to be his long-lost grand-nephew.

Since then, he has established a welfare home, taken on the role of welfare home director, and gradually shifted his focus to the welfare home.

Nevertheless, in her previous life, Vizette would still see the old headmaster grieving alone, licking his past wounds, and enduring the torment of never seeing his loved ones again.

Dumbledore's current state was very similar to that of the old headmaster, who was deeply saddened.

All of this stems from past experiences, which have caused unspeakable pain, and the responsibilities they bear, which force them to silently endure the torment.

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

Compared to a man who is "widely recognized as the greatest wizard of our time" and holds a series of titles such as Chief Wizard of Wizengamot, President of the International Wizarding Federation, and Archmage, Dumbledore at this moment seems more real.

He had both a great side and the torment he had to endure alone.

He rarely revealed this torment, not even Aberforth had ever seen it, but he himself had the misfortune to witness it...

Dumbledore murmured, “I have cared too little for them… I am responsible for all of this… I even repeated the same mistake, until a second bad outcome occurred…”

His hands were clenched into fists, and one could vaguely see a shocking amount of blood seeping through his fingernails.

Vizette took a deep breath, making sure she spoke clearly, before calling out, "Headmaster Dumbledore!"

“I seem to have talked too much.” Dumbledore’s expression shifted as he regained consciousness, a look of helplessness quickly appearing on his face. “I always feel more relaxed around you.”

"Perhaps it's because... I've received many Christmas gifts over the past ten years. But only your gift, a box of colorful candies, is something I truly love!"

He glanced at the dark night sky. "It's getting late. You must be exhausted. Go back and rest!"

Vizette shook her head and said slowly, "When I was studying at the Hog's Head, I observed those wizard duels. Before the duel, they would always provoke each other with words."

"It seems you're trying to disrupt the wizard's mindset in this way. Headmaster Dumbledore... this is Voldemort's way of interfering with you, nothing more."

“Perhaps I was indeed distracted,” Dumbledore said, his voice tinged with self-reproach. “If Harry hadn’t been protected, if you weren’t the Guardian…”

"Perhaps Harry will be killed by the Killing Curse, or perhaps Voldemort's plot will succeed, gaining the support of the Obscurials. I really don't want to drag you all into this..."

Vizzet shook her head and replied, "That's all hypothetical. Harry is lying perfectly fine in the university hospital, and I'm still alive and kicking."

“It’s not that you dragged us into this; it’s that Voldemort always coveted the Obscurus. He had Professor Quirrell teach me so that the Obscurus would go berserk.”

“I don’t know about Harry’s situation, but if it weren’t for Harry, he wouldn’t have fallen more than ten years ago. I think… he must have hated Harry to the core.”

“I think not only do I need to rest, but you also need to relax. You’ve taken on a lot of work, and I can feel it just from the few words Mr. Aberforth has mentioned.”

Dumbledore interlaced his fingers, slightly nervous. "What did he tell you?"