Rey's experience from a thousand years ago was nothing short of miraculous, but he kept his explanation brief: practicing dark magic to obtain the Phantom Orb, taking the vial of potion from Madam Hooch, and transforming into a giant black dragon.
After roughly summarizing his journey, Rey suddenly looked up at Dumbledore and asked, "Professor, can people come back to life after they die?"
The question caught Dumbledore off guard.
Logic dictated that Rey should be most concerned about the strange mutation his body had undergone. Yet, here he was, asking about resurrection.
"My boy, no matter who you have lost... I must regretfully tell you that people cannot be brought back from the dead," Dumbledore said gently. "Though this world is full of magical wonders, you must never attempt to resurrect the dead."
"Why?" Rey wouldn't let it go.
Dumbledore shook his head. "There is no 'why.' That death is irreversible is simply a law of nature."
Getting no useful information, Rey didn't press further, though he couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore was holding something back.
At that moment, a heavy knocking—bang, bang—sounded on the wooden door of the Headmaster's office. It was unclear who would be visiting at this hour.
Dumbledore waved his hand to open the door, and Rey saw Snape standing there, dressed entirely in black.
Snape's face was as cold as ever. It seemed that aside from Lily, he had never genuinely smiled at anyone.
Rey's assessment of Snape was simple: the man was a true man. To protect the love in his heart, he would go to his grave.
He didn't like Harry Potter—in fact, you could say he loathed him. Or perhaps "hate" was the more accurate word.
A large part of that stemmed from Harry's father, James Potter, but much of it was because of Harry himself. It was because of this "Child of Prophecy" that Lily had been killed by Voldemort.
Snape hated everyone involved in Lily's death. But above all, he hated himself for failing to protect her.
His hatred was intense, but it couldn't overpower his love for Lily.
It was that love that drove him to protect Harry, disregarding his own safety.
This tangled web of emotions resulted in his complicated treatment of the boy—constantly giving him a hard time and berating him, yet willing to sacrifice his own life to keep him safe.
---
"Professor, the potion you requested is ready."
Snape walked into the office, gave Rey—who was sitting across from Dumbledore—a cool glance, and pulled a vial of potion from his robes, placing it on the desk.
"Thank you for your trouble, Severus."
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going," Snape replied coldly, turning to leave.
"Wait, Severus. This potion is a bit special. It wouldn't hurt to stay until Rey takes it."
Dumbledore stopped him, leaving Rey confused as he watched the exchange. Judging by their conversation, was this potion prepared for him?
Confusion was written all over Rey's face. Meanwhile, Snape stared at Dumbledore, lifting his chin slightly as he spoke in a flat tone, "Do you not trust my brewing, Professor Dumbledore?"
"No, Severus. I trust your potion implicitly. I am merely concerned about the boy's internal condition. I fear my estimation might not have been enough."
"Professor, is this potion for me?" Rey asked, surprised.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Rey. This potion is like the spell I cast on you yesterday, only Professor Snape's brew is far more effective. It will put you into a deep sleep. A small sip before bed each night will aid your recovery."
"Professor, you still haven't told me why I can't use magic."
Rey still didn't understand what was wrong with his body. Until he got a clear answer, he absolutely wouldn't drink the potion. It wasn't about distrusting Dumbledore or Snape; he just needed to know where the problem lay.
"Rey, based on the incredible journey you described, the magic within you has undergone a complete and radical qualitative change. Very few wizards ever experience such a shift. I went through it once myself when I was young.
"Your transformation is quite thorough, which has resulted in a sense of unfamiliarity with your own magic. It's as if your ingrained habits have been shattered, and you must now relearn how to adapt, just like a baby learning to walk."
Dumbledore's words were like a lightbulb going off for Rey. That explained the alien sensation he felt regarding his magic.
"Professor, then what about my mental world? It's in ruins, like an earthquake hit it. What does that mean?"
"That is the process of your magic's transmutation. Anyone whose mental world underwent such a cataclysmic shift should have gone mad, if not died. The fact that you are sitting here alive and well is, frankly, a miracle."
Rey's jaw dropped. He didn't know what to ask next. If being alive was already a miracle, then his chances of ever using magic again seemed like a massive question mark.
"What exists, exists for a reason. Do you understand?"
This was Dumbledore's closing statement. At that moment, Dumbledore looked to Rey like a wise sage or a philosopher from a movie.
What exists, exists for a reason. Or to put it another way: since he was alive, his mental world would eventually settle and recover.
Like a baby, he would relearn to walk, then run, and eventually, perhaps, soar.
He wasn't an old man running out of time. He had plenty of it.
Rebuilding his magical foundation from scratch wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The stronger the foundation, the sturdier the skyscraper built upon it.
---
"Are you going to wait all day to drink that?"
Snape's impatient voice snapped Rey out of his thoughts. The man really didn't have a pleasant demeanor for anyone.
"Sorry, Professor Snape. I'll drink it now."
Rey didn't mind. Snape was the type who was cold on the outside but warm on the inside, and his potions were undeniably top-tier in the wizarding world.
Picking up the small bottle, Rey uncorked it and took a small, gentle sip. There was a fair amount in the bottle; at one sip a day, it would last him at least ten days.
The potion wasn't as nauseating as he expected. It was icy cool entering his mouth, with no bitterness at all. It flowed down his throat to his stomach, then absorbed into his veins, surging toward every limb and bone.
It had the same effect as the spell Dumbledore had cast. Rey felt a coolness wash over his entire body, relaxing his mind. Then, waves of warmth spread to every corner of his being, and his eyelids began to grow heavy.
Sleep was calling. Finally unable to resist the potion's power, Rey fell asleep and toppled over.
With a gentle wave of Dumbledore's hand, Rey floated in mid-air, maintaining his fallen posture. The small stool Rey had been sitting on unfolded and expanded, transforming into a modest bed for him to lie flat on.
"Breathing is steady and powerful. He entered sleep very quickly. It seems your estimation of his magical transmutation was slightly off. His magical foundation has completely changed. Trying to adapt to this new magic... that will depend entirely on his own efforts."
Once Rey was asleep, Snape crouched down to perform a physical checkup, then offered his diagnosis.
Dumbledore nodded, indicating he agreed with the judgment.
"With such a thorough magical transmutation, aren't you afraid he's the next Dark Lord?"
Snape had always spoken freely in front of Dumbledore, so his question was blunt.
"The boy's heart is good. I trust he won't go down the wrong path."
"Maybe. But is the vampire matter confirmed? Do you need me to do anything?" Snape stood up after finishing the examination, asking noncommittally.
Dumbledore sighed softly. "It is fairly certain. It should be resolved by Easter..."