Chapter 19 Dumbledore's thoughts
POV: Dumbledore
I sat quietly in my office, sipping a warm cup of tea. "This time of year is always so hectic," I thought to myself. Every year, we must prepare to welcome a fresh wave of young, wide-eyed students to Hogwarts. The staff had already been assigned their respective duties to ensure everything ran smoothly.
Minerva, dear Minerva, had been under great strain lately. In addition to her own responsibilities, she had taken it upon herself to manage all my paperwork. I had been occupied with matters of equal importance elsewhere, but I could not deny the burden she was shouldering. Today, she had set out to visit the home of an incoming student to provide magical proof and formally extend the invitation to Hogwarts.
It should be about time for her to return from her journey… I mused.
Just then, the door to my office opened, and Minerva stepped in. I welcomed her with a nod and offered her a box of Cockroach Clusters, which she refused without so much as a glance.
Curious, I asked, "Which student's family did you visit today?"
She began describing the family—kind, caring, and surprisingly accepting of the magical world. But it was when she started speaking about the child that my interest piqued.
To my astonishment, a phoenix—one of the rarest and most ancient magical creatures—had chosen to accompany this young boy, who came from a Muggle family. That detail alone was enough to stun me.
A phoenix chooses its companion with extraordinary care. Besides myself and my late brother Aberforth, only one other person in history—Merlin—had ever earned the companionship of a phoenix. Even then, my brother and I could only summon one due to a unique ancestral pact forged generations ago. Despite this, summoning a phoenix remains difficult. I myself had only gained Fawkes after enduring great loss and turning away from a darker path.
Another detail Minerva mentioned caught my attention: the boy had not found a compatible wand at Ollivanders and had been offered the rare chance to receive a custom wand from an old friend of mine.
I quietly committed the boy's name to memory. He may prove important in guiding young Harry, I thought.
The Sorting Ceremony – Later That Day
I waited patiently for the arrival of Harry Potter. That boy had endured unspeakable hardship in the home of his aunt and uncle. I could only hope that his remaining time with them would be tolerable. Unfortunately, for the sake of the magical protections placed upon him by his mother's sacrifice, he had to live there. My hands were tied—I could do nothing, and for the sake of secrecy, I couldn't visit as often as I wished.
As I stood near the staff table, Fawkes suddenly flew to me, her wings fluttering with unusual excitement.
What could have stirred her so? I wondered, intrigued by her rare show of emotion.
Then I felt it—a strong magical presence. It was one of the privileges of being Hogwarts' headmaster: the castle itself informed me whenever someone with great power crossed its boundaries.
A moment later, the first-years entered the Great Hall, Minerva leading them in as tradition dictated. I smiled with satisfaction when Harry was sorted into Gryffindor. But then the final name was called:
"Ashton A.D. Willson."
The moment he stepped forward, I was taken aback. A strikingly handsome young man with a regal bearing, he walked with the quiet authority of a monarch. Each step he took exuded confidence and power. I felt something deep stir within me—a strange, powerful connection that froze me in place.
"How—how can this be? How could he be a Dumbledore?" I thought, overwhelmed by the revelation.
My attention was fixed on him completely. Then, the boy surprised us all by casting a cleaning charm on the Sorting Hat before placing it on his head. Every professor and house dean turned their full attention to him.
He put on the hat, and silence fell across the hall.
Time passed, and still no announcement came from the hat. This delay suggested he was well-suited for multiple houses, but even so, such hesitation was rare. Then, in a moment none of us expected, the boy placed his hand on the Sorting Hat—and drew forth a magnificent silver sword.
Gasps echoed throughout the hall.
The Sorting Hat cried out at last, "GRYFFINDOR!"
And the sword—there was no mistaking it—was none other than the legendary Sword of Godric Gryffindor.
POV: Ashton (MC)
At the Present Moment
What just happened? Did I really pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of a hat?
I gazed down at the blade now resting in my hands. It had a unique and elegant design, with impossibly sharp edges. But what truly intrigued me was the essence that radiated from it—it pulsed with a devouring energy, not unlike my own.
Yet it was different. This essence didn't consume energy in its entirety. Instead, it absorbed material essence—only fragments—either by cutting into something or when other energy sources were poured into it.
Despite its limitations, this still made the sword one of the most powerful weapons I'd ever seen. Given enough time, it could likely cut through almost anything.
Then I became aware of the rising commotion around me. The Great Hall was buzzing with whispers and wide-eyed stares. My heightened senses made it easy to catch every word.
Dumbledore approached, and my gaze was drawn to the wand in his hand.
The Elder Wand… One of the Deathly Hallows.
Dark, dense death energy surrounded it like a shroud. A thought raced through my mind: "Could the legend of the Deathly Hallows be true? Did Death herself once walk this earth?"
My musings were cut short as Dumbledore stood before me.
"My boy, it is truly a wonder to see the lost sword of our founder in your hands," he said warmly. "It is said that only a true Gryffindor can summon the sword in times of need."
He held out his hand gently. "Now, please return the sword so it may be kept safe. It is an important relic of our school."
I nodded, handing it to him without protest. Then I made my way to the Gryffindor table, settling into a seat directly across from Harry Potter.
Author's Note:
Your support is the inspiration behind this story's creation. Feel free to comment and share your thoughts or questions. Every piece of feedback motivates me to keep going!
English isn't my first language, so if you find any mistakes or unclear parts, please let me know in the comments!