Harry Potter's : Fantastic Beasts Guide

David approached the table, his eyes fixed on the shimmering contents of the Pensieve. The silvery liquid had turned clear, reflecting his puzzled expression.

"Just lower your head into it," Dumbledore instructed, his voice calm yet urging. "You'll be able to see everything more clearly."

David hesitated for only a moment before leaning forward. As soon as his skin touched the surface, the world flipped upside down, and he felt himself falling, plunging through an icy, swirling void.

When the sensation of falling ceased, David found himself seated in a shadowed corner of a dimly lit room. The air was heavy with tension. Before him was a long table crowded with wizards, their faces grim. At the head of the table sat Dumbledore, his piercing eyes scanning the assembly. Beside him was Newt, his expression one of quiet concern.

Dumbledore's voice broke the silence. "What's so urgent that you had to summon me?" His gaze lingered on the weary faces around him.

A gray-haired wizard, his shoulders hunched under the weight of worry, leaned forward. "We need your help, Dumbledore," he said, his voice pleading.

Dumbledore's eyes softened. "If I can help, I will," he promised.

Frederick's hands trembled as he slid a photograph across the table. "We've received news... about the R Organization's research team. We believe it's credible."

Dumbledore's face hardened. "Are you certain?"

Newt answered, his voice firm, "They've been under pressure lately. Mistakes were bound to happen. A trusted ally managed to capture this."

David followed Dumbledore's gaze to the photograph. In the image, a group of shadowy figures flew through a stormy sky on broomsticks, iron cages hanging beneath them. The cages were draped in black cloth, but the wind had partially uncovered one. Inside, a creature lay motionless, its body frail, and its head pierced with some cruel device.

Dumbledore's jaw tightened. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Must I go?"

Frederick's face grew desperate. "If you don't go, we might not be able to stop them. These aren't ordinary opponents... they're merciless. This could be our only chance."

The room fell silent. All eyes were on Dumbledore as he stared at the photograph, lost in thought. His fingers traced its edges, his mind clearly racing through possibilities and risks.

"Can I think about it?" Dumbledore's voice was unsteady, his eyes lingering on the tortured creature in the photo.

Frederick's face fell, but he nodded.

Dumbledore pushed his chair back and stood. "Newt, a word outside?"

They left the room, their footsteps echoing down a dark, narrow corridor. David followed, his curiosity drawing him closer.

Dumbledore paused, holding the photo up to the dim light. "Do you believe this is a trap?"

Newt hesitated. "I do. But... we can't ignore it. We've uncovered so little about them, and if we wait any longer, we might learn nothing at all. They're ruthless, Albus. If we miss this chance..."

His voice trailed off, but his meaning was clear.

Dumbledore sighed. "So, it's a risk we must take."

Newt's eyes were heavy. "Yes."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Very well."

They returned to the room. As Dumbledore resumed his seat, Frederick leaned forward. "Well? What's your decision?"

Dumbledore's face was solemn. "I'll go."

Relief washed over the room. Frederick's shoulders slumped, his gratitude evident. "Thank you, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore waved it off. "Show me your plan."

A young wizard named Andre stood up, tipping his hat back as he unrolled a parchment. He began outlining the strategy, his voice confident as he detailed routes, ambush points, and contingencies. Dumbledore listened intently, occasionally nodding or shaking his head, his sharp mind processing every detail.

Then, a knock on the door interrupted. Newt signaled for Andre to pause. "Come in."

A young man with dark hair stepped inside. "Professor Dumbledore, an urgent letter has arrived for you."

Dumbledore stood, his demeanor shifting to one of concern. He took the letter and broke the seal. As his eyes scanned the contents, his face turned ashen.

"We'll have to continue this meeting another time," he announced, his voice heavy. "Something's happened at Hogwarts... involving Newt's grandson."

Newt's face blanched, his fingers clutching the edge of the table. For a moment, he looked vulnerable—more so than David had ever seen him.

Frederick's face fell, but he managed a nod. "We understand."

Dumbledore offered a grim smile. "I'm sorry, everyone."

Without another word, he and Newt left the room, their robes billowing as they hurried down the corridor.

The memory began to blur, the room fading to shadows. David felt himself being pulled upward, rising faster and faster until he was back in the headmaster's office, his fingers gripping the edge of the Pensieve.

Dumbledore stood beside him, his face solemn. "Now you understand where I was that night... and why."

David's mind was racing. Everything was starting to make sense, the pieces falling into place. He looked up at Dumbledore, the resentment he had been holding onto slowly dissolving.

Dumbledore's eyes were weary, but they held a flicker of hope. "I never meant to abandon you, David. But some battles must be fought in the shadows, for the light to survive."

David took a deep breath, his anger giving way to a sense of understanding. "I see that now."

Dumbledore's face softened. "I am truly sorry for the pain my absence caused."

David nodded, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I believe you."

Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on David's shoulder. "Then let us face the darkness together... and find the light once more."

The room seemed warmer, the shadows less menacing. And for the first time in a long while, David felt that maybe... just maybe... he wasn't alone in this fight.