Having passed the test, Vison was invited into the Principal's office to sign some agreements.
Incidentally, today's office password was "Licorice Wand."
It was a kind of candy Vison found incredibly repulsive; he couldn't understand why anyone would enjoy that strange mix of sweetness and dirt.
Still, the faint, sweet smell in the office was unmistakable — probably from the drawers under the desk, stuffed with different candies.
Dumbledore gestured for Vison to sit in front of the desk and brought over a paper document, something like a contract.
"Do you remember your fifth year?" he asked, pausing as if touching on a sensitive topic. "Hmm... that was a difficult time. Perhaps I shouldn't bring it up."
Vison gave an awkward smile.
To be honest, not everything in life goes as planned.
When Voldemort's power was at its peak, no one in Hogwarts remained untouched — Vison included.
Even though he was careful not to make trouble, trouble always seemed to find him.
During the First Wizarding War, Vison had been in his fifth year.
Events during that time shattered the peace he'd enjoyed for five years.
Voldemort's influence had seeped into every corner of Hogwarts, not confined to just one House.
In a twisted way, the four Houses had even united — split into only two sides: those supporting Voldemort and those standing against him.
As a non-pureblood wizard, Vison naturally fell into the latter group.
At first, the fifth-year Vison had no wish to get involved.
But reality had other plans.
Even though he kept his head down, avoided conflicts, and steered clear of Voldemort's fanatical followers, he eventually became a target.
Being the top student in his year only made him more valuable prey.
On one fateful Saturday afternoon, Slytherin students cornered him with a large group.
The only small comfort was that no Hufflepuffs had joined the mob.
Coincidentally, Vison had just completed the first evolution of his Devil's Snare.
So, that afternoon, the students who attacked him ended up hanging from the north wall of the castle — swaying like air-dried hams.
After that day, life quieted down.
No more black-robed students trailing behind him.
Even Voldemort's worshippers seemed to come to some unspoken agreement: they left Vison alone.
That incident had also earned him an invitation to the Principal's office for tea back then.
"That was definitely not a pleasant experience," Vison said now, carefully reading the document before him — Hogwarts' employment contract. "Where should I sign?"
"Bottom left, Adeline," Dumbledore instructed.
The quill spun once around Vison's fingers before he signed solemnly.
The moment he put the pen down, Vison felt an odd sensation, as though he'd formed a deeper bond with the ancient castle beneath his feet.
He looked up. Dumbledore smiled warmly.
"Hogwarts welcomes you, Professor Vison."
With the formalities done, Vison let out a breath of relief.
"Candy?"
Dumbledore slid open a drawer, revealing a rainbow of colorful wrappers.
The variety seemed even greater than at Honeydukes.
Vison shook his head, politely declining.
Seeing this, Dumbledore said nothing more, simply unwrapped a piece of chocolate for himself.
With a casual wave of his hand, he conjured a teacup that floated gently down in front of Vison, releasing a warm, soothing aroma.
"We still have time to chat," Dumbledore said, glancing at the clock.
Vison, naturally, was willing to talk with his future superior.
Dumbledore sipped his tea, his sapphire-blue eyes twinkling faintly behind his half-moon spectacles. He seemed lost in thought.
"Adeline, how has your sister been lately?" he asked softly, with genuine concern. "Is she alright?"
Vison's hand paused midair, the teacup trembling slightly. His eyes dimmed.
"She's still undergoing treatment in a hospital in the United States. Her condition… is much better than before, but the damage from the Cruciatus Curse isn't so easily healed."
"Much better?"
"Yes. Occasionally, she wakes up from her coma. But… it's like she doesn't see anything. She just stares blankly at the ceiling."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed, barely noticeable, but there was weight behind his next words:
"The marks left by Dark Arts are indeed difficult to heal completely. Especially the Cruciatus Curse — it tears both body and mind apart."
He sighed deeply. "But she's still alive. That, in itself, is a kind of miracle."
Vison exhaled silently.
His sister had also once been a Hogwarts student.
But during a Hogsmeade visit, caught between a battle between Voldemort's forces and the Order of the Phoenix, she had been struck by a Cruciatus Curse.
It had happened just one day before Voldemort's fall.
Cruel fate. That attack had left a scar that would never fade from Vison's mind.
He had always wondered: if only he had reached her sooner that day, maybe things would have been different.
But there are no 'ifs' in this world.
Since then, his sister had remained in a coma.
All his wandering after graduation — researching, traveling — had been driven by one purpose: finding a cure.
Dumbledore fell silent, swirling the tea in his cup.
"I am very sorry," he suddenly murmured.
"What?" Vison looked up.
"I failed to protect my students," Dumbledore said softly, with a note of self-reproach. "Keeping them safe was my duty. But war… war forces too many to pay the price. I am truly sorry."
Vison lowered his gaze, his fingers slowly tracing the rim of his teacup.
"Your apology," he said quietly, "should be for my sister, Principal."
"I remember you promised to protect all students back then."
"But clearly, you failed her."
Dumbledore hadn't expected such blunt words.
His hand stilled, the teacup frozen mid-sip.
But he didn't refute it — he just watched the swirling tea in silence.
"Your anger is understandable, Adeline," he finally said, voice heavy. "I cannot deny it — I failed the trust of many."
Vison suddenly felt he had gone too far.
His accusation had been sharp, almost cruel.
After a pause, he released his grip on the cup and softened his tone.
"I'm sorry, Principal. That was too harsh… I guess it's just my lingering resentment. You've already done so much."
Dumbledore simply watched him, saying nothing.
What a terrible conversation, Vison thought grimly.
He inhaled deeply, steadying his heart.
He knew that lashing out wouldn't change anything.
"I will cure her," Vison said at last, his voice firm — not just a statement, but a vow. "I definitely will."
Dumbledore's eyes flickered, and after a long pause, he nodded seriously.
"I believe you, Adeline."