𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔

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"Don't trust him, he's going to destroy you, don't trust him, trust Dumbledore"
-the voices

As I materialized back at Hogwarts, the familiar surroundings of cobblestone and wood greeted me with a surreal sense of grounding. It was 1 in the morning, the castle cloaked in quietude, offering a moment of respite amidst the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind.

The choices ahead loomed dauntingly, each carrying its own promises and perils. Dumbledore's cautionary words echoed in my ears, a reminder of the risks of unchecked ambition and the allure of power. Yet, Tom's compelling vision of potential and transformation tugged at my aspirations, tempting me with the prospect of greatness beyond what I had imagined.

As I stood in the silent corridor, a flicker of movement caught my eye—a fleeting shadow dancing along the walls, as if whispering secrets of paths untaken. Hogwarts itself seemed to hold its breath, awaiting my decision, aware of the pivotal moment that could alter not just my fate, but the destiny of the wizarding world.

With a sigh, I made a silent vow to heed Dumbledore's wisdom, at least for now. His counsel had guided me thus far, offering a beacon of clarity in the murky depths of uncertainty. But I couldn't deny the curiosity that still pulsed within me, nor the gnawing desire to understand more about Tom Riddle and the path he proposed. I now realise I seek more than just the understanding, I seek the companion.

Resolving to seek counsel from Dumbledore, I turned towards the direction of Dumbledores  office, my steps echoing softly in the empty corridors. Each footfall resonated with determination, a testament to my resolve to navigate the intricate web of choices ahead with wisdom and discernment.

As I ascended the staircase leading to Dumbledore's office, my thoughts swirled with questions yet unanswered, uncertainties yet to be unraveled. I arrive at his door before slowly letting myself in.

"Sephora," Dumbledore's voice rang out gently as I entered the office, the room bathed in the soft glow of enchanted candles. "I sensed you would come seeking answers."

I met his gaze, the weight of my decision palpable in the air between us. "Tom Riddle," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. "He offers knowledge, power, a path of potential. But your warnings, Headmaster—they linger in my thoughts."

Dumbledore listened attentively, his expression a blend of empathy and concern. "Tom Riddle is a complex figure, Sephora," he replied gravely. "His ambitions are great, but so too are the dangers he poses. You must tread carefully, for the choices you make now will shape not only your destiny, but the course of many lives."

His words resonated deeply within me, a reminder of the responsibility that came with wielding magic and influence. "What would you have me do, headmaster" I asked earnestly, seeking the guidance that had guided generations of wizards before me.

Dumbledore regarded me with unwavering kindness. "Trust in your instincts, Sephora," he advised gently. "Power is not inherently good or evil—it is how we wield it that defines us. Seek knowledge, yes, but temper it with wisdom and compassion."

I nodded solemnly, his words settling like a mantle of clarity around my shoulders. "Thank you, professor," I murmured, that was a waste of time. "I will consider your counsel carefully." I say a fake smile plastered on my face. Why be so mysterious Dumbledore? Something your hiding?

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