Chapter 32: Pensieve
“Knock knock…”
“Please come in.”
Melvin knocked on the door leaf, and two translucent silver figures floated past him.
The Grey Lady saw Melvin and nodded lightly, with a faint curve, which counted as a greeting. The Bloody Baron was expressionless and followed silently without a word.
The two ghosts floated lightly out of the office. These were already very polite ghosts; out of respect for the headmaster, they left through the main door, unlike other ghosts in the school who treated the walls as air and passed straight through. Sometimes while walking on the road, a cold head would suddenly emerge from the ground.
Melvin entered the office and instinctively looked toward Phoenix Fawkes, who was nestled in the Sorting Hat, nodding and smiling at it.
“Cheep!”
Such a fine phoenix, with a call like a sparrow’s. Who knows where it learned that from.
“Good evening, Melvin.”
Dumbledore watched the scene with a smile, holding a teapot and saying to him, “If you don’t mind, I’d like something sweet.”
“Then I came at just the right time…” Melvin sat down, took out ice cream from the paper bag, and handed over a box. “Try it, lemon flavor, a new product from Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.”
Dumbledore opened the cardboard box, and chilled cream emitted white vapor. The color and scent were very fresh, with sweet coolness drifting into his nose, making him smile involuntarily.
Melvin opened the chocolate flavor for himself: “Headmaster, I have something to ask for your help with. Can I borrow the Pensieve?”
Dumbledore asked puzzledly, “The Pensieve?”
“Remember what we talked about in New York? I want to write stories about wizards and explore forms of magical drama.” Melvin had no intention of hiding it. “I went to Diagon Alley to find suitable equipment that fits wizards and magic for filming and projection. I didn’t find the equipment, but I met a wizard who understands technology. He suggested using memories as film. The Pensieve is the projection equipment, so I want to borrow yours to study it.”
Dumbledore looked at him with a smile: “Muggle world’s movies, right?”
“You know about movies, Headmaster?”
“Don’t imagine me as a reclusive old wizard hiding in the castle all day. I’m not a closed-minded pure-blood either. You might not imagine it, but I have a complete London subway map tattooed on my left knee.” Dumbledore said with some pride, “I’m a Muggle expert.”
“I know now.”
Melvin didn’t know what was so proud about having a subway map tattooed on his knee, and he didn’t dare ask, fearing the old headmaster would insist on showing it to him.
“Decades ago, someone in Godric’s Hollow planned to build a movie theater but failed.”
Dumbledore took a sip of cream and said thoughtfully, “Your idea is theoretically feasible. However, the Pensieve has a flaw: for multiple viewers, they need to bury their heads in the basin, which isn’t suitable for public screenings. The stone basin is just a container; the silver mist inside is the key. You could consider changing the vessel style and refer to the Mirror of Erised to make a mirror for projecting memories. How about calling it the Memory Projection Mirror?”
“I’ll consider it.”
He now had ideas for magical projection equipment.
Melvin noted these ideas in his mind.
The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth curved up, and his heavy mood gradually lightened: “I won’t need the Pensieve for a while, and I have some materials about it. Take them with you when you leave. If you achieve anything with the wizard movies, I hope to be in the first batch of audience.”
“Of course!”
The headmaster was still very reliable when serious.
Melvin picked up a wooden spoon, scooped a piece, and put it in his mouth. A rich cocoa sweetness filled his mouth. The ice cream made with the Freezing Charm truly had a different texture.
Dumbledore looked at him with a gentle smile, increasingly feeling that hiring Melvin was the right choice: “One more thing: the package you sent, marked as Dark Magic Items, was handed directly to Minerva by Filch without opening. You’d better come up with a reasonable explanation.”
“To help you set up protective measures, of course.”
Melvin then explained his design ideas, trying to get the school to reimburse the expenses: “I plan to imitate the Muggle Chamber of Secrets—or rather, call it a haunted house, similar to the Screaming Shed. It doesn’t involve ghosts or anything; through scene setups, restricted lights, create a thrilling and terrifying atmosphere, generating psychological pressure. These defective Dark Magic Items are just props. The traps are low-power, mainly to help Potter and the others overcome fear.”
“What Potter? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dumbledore denied it perfunctorily: “But I personally like this design. I have some horror stories circulating in the British Wizarding World. I hope they’ll help you.”
Melvin looked at the old headmaster and took the opportunity to say, “Then the expenses for purchasing the props…”
Dumbledore averted his gaze impassively: “Financial matters are approved by the deputy headmaster. Go talk to Minerva.”
……
The negotiation with the deputy headmaster didn’t go smoothly.
Professor McGonagall believed the procurement of these items was Melvin’s personal action, ownership belonged to Melvin personally, and the use wasn’t for teaching, so expenses couldn’t be reimbursed.
Melvin strongly disagreed, of course.
The teaching aids hadn’t been used yet; how did Professor McGonagall know they weren’t for teaching?
Even if ownership didn’t belong to the school, the school should at least give him rental fees.
The reasons were strong and sufficient, but it still didn’t pass review because these props were for a project proposed by Dumbledore, a personal project, so rental fees should be asked from Dumbledore.
“Passing the buck up and down.
“Hogwarts has serious bureaucratic style…”
Melvin looked at the Dark Magic defective items on the table, then at the Pensieve not far away, his expression complex.
A Pensieve worth tens of thousands of Galleons—Dumbledore lent it just like that. How could anyone ask for rental fees?
“Better to study the Pensieve.”
Melvin gave up obsessing, stood up, and went to the side of the stone basin.
A shallow stone basin, carved from a single block of stone, like granite, with no visible age. The surface edges were worn smooth, and the rim was engraved with fine runes, some Runic, others unrecognizable.
The basin held a silvery substance, between liquid and gas, like flowing mist, slowly swirling, with ripples gleaming with crystalline light.
Unlike rare items like the Mirror of Erised, this kind of vessel for replaying memories wasn’t uncommon, similar to flying broomsticks with different styles and performance levels. The Pensieve was among the top-tier ones.
Melvin pressed his wand to his temple, the wand tip pressing slightly, pulling out a silver thread.
The silver thread fell into the stone basin, quietly merging into the silver mist. Fluorescent brightness spread, presenting a slightly hazy scene: a water snake with horns on its forehead coiled on a treetop, its eyes without vertical pupils, just a silver white.
Leaning over to the mist in the basin, his consciousness fell into the void. When he came to, Melvin found himself standing under the shade of snake wood.
The Horned Serpent murmured lowly to him: “Melvin, leave the school. I see your future is not here.”
“…”
