Five o’clock in the morning.
The Great Hall at Hogwarts, the Hufflepuff table.
Raven was enjoying morning tea.
Because no wizard had requested dim sum morning tea for decades, the selection was not entirely complete.
Dishes requiring ingredients uncommon in Britain, such as steamed chicken feet or sticky rice in lotus leaf, could not be served.
Still, they managed to put together a spread for Raven.
Raven slowly sipped his tea, ate har gow, savored steamed spare ribs, and took a bite of siu mai.
If you aren’t going to eat breakfast, fine, but if you do, never rush through it—that was Raven’s philosophy on morning tea.
That was why he was eating at five in the morning.
After all, he still had classes later.
Since he had enrolled as a student, he had to attend class—though which classes he took was a matter of careful consideration.
Raven was currently looking at the timetable given to him by his Head of House.
For this school year, Raven had the freedom to choose for every class period whether to join any house’s first-year class or stick with the standard Hufflepuff second-year schedule.
The reason he was granted so much autonomy was twofold: first, he had been directly recruited by the Headmaster, and second, there were differences between the curricula at Beauxbatons and Hogwarts.
Some material might have been taught during the first year at Hogwarts but scheduled for the second year at Beauxbatons, so giving Raven a chance to catch up on any gaps was the school’s duty.
As he read, his mouth felt a bit dry.
Just as Raven reached out his chopsticks to grab a pumpkin cake while continuing to ponder, he pinched at thin air.
He looked up.
It was Albus Dumbledore.
Judging by the amount of food remaining on the table, the old man had been digging in for a while. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Raven gestured at the teapot, which levitated, bowed before Dumbledore, and filled his empty teacup.
“Here, Headmaster, have some tea. Eating dry food alone makes it easy to choke.”
Dumbledore didn’t stand on ceremony either.
He popped the whole pumpkin cake into his mouth, picked up the teacup, took a light sip, and then picked up a custard bun.
Raven maintained his own pace, mulling over which classes to attend today while pulling a plate of rice noodle rolls toward himself.
It wasn’t until the food on the table was mostly cleared that the two put down their utensils and began a proper conversation.
Dumbledore spoke first.
“Mmm… It’s not good for a young wizard to eat too many sweets at night. Next time, at least leave a little for a poor old man wandering into the kitchens on an empty stomach.”
“You can’t properly enjoy fine food on a full stomach,” Raven the Foodie replied.
“Well, I must admit this meal is a rare delicacy. I truly didn’t expect Hogwarts’ kitchens to harbor such a fine chef. So, would you mind sharing your thoughts? What prompted you to summon an old man like me here before dawn? Is there something you wanted to say to me?”
Dumbledore had never treated Raven as a mere child.
After all, he was the one who had sent Raven to France in the first place.
In truth, when the Weasleys had come knocking on his door back then, he had been at a total loss as to how to save that soul-bound infant.
He knew full well in his heart that he was not the all-powerful wizard the Weasleys believed him to be.
Handing the child over to Tom might have been far more reliable than keeping him himself.
After all, Tom was the one who had walked further along the path of souls, someone whose mastery of soul magic could rival his own.
However, events took an unexpected turn when his phoenix, Fawkes, brought along a fellow member of his species—a phoenix named Phineas Nigellus Black, sharing a name with a certain former Headmaster Black.
With Fawkes acting as an interpreter, and under the persuasive suggestion of the phoenix named Phineas Nigellus Black, he made the decision to send the baby to his old friend Nicolas Flamel.
Yet some time later, he noticed something amiss.
From that day onward, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black had vanished.
Every headmaster left a portrait behind in the Headmaster’s office—a gesture that served both as a mark of honor and as a way to offer advice to future headmasters.
After inquiring among the other portraits, Dumbledore finally located him at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Yet no matter how he questioned him, Headmaster Black refused to say another word.
Then, before anyone realized it, he returned to his frame among the headmaster portraits in the office, without anyone knowing when he had reappeared.
No other news came from his old friend, except word that the boy was exceptionally talented—he had even modified a magical fax machine, allowing Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel to communicate without being hindered by the Fidelius Charm’s protection.
Still, Dumbledore never stopped keeping an eye on Raven.
There was another matter, something that had occurred last school year.
When the Weasley twins enrolled, they brought no pets with them, yet they somehow possessed a phoenix courier.
Through Dumbledore’s observations, he confirmed that this phoenix was the very same one that had negotiated with him back then.
As he covertly and overtly gathered information on the creature, he uncovered yet more oddities.
This phoenix didn’t seem nearly as sophisticated as it had during those negotiations.
Instead, it spent its days hanging out with the two Weasley troublemakers.
Compared to his Fawkes, this phoenix was far closer in temperament to a child.
Putting these pieces together, Dumbledore formed a theory.
If Headmaster Black had been afraid to speak out back then due to some apprehension, was he trying to convey to Dumbledore that the phoenix was the root of everything?
And once Dumbledore verified that there was indeed something unusual about the phoenix and that someone must be pulling the strings behind it, was Headmaster Black actually warning Dumbledore to beware of the figure behind the scenes?
Although there was never any explicit evidence, everything pointed to the fact that Raven was no ordinary young wizard—a fact that Raven himself had never bothered to hide.
Fortunately, Raven genuinely embraced his identity; he truly considered himself a child of the Weasley family and a disciple of Nicolas Flamel.
Therefore, in dealing with such a wizard, Dumbledore was willing to show sincerity and engage with him as an equal.