Albus Dumbledore

The stone corridor was silent that morning, illuminated only by the golden light that streamed through the tall windows of Hogwarts. The air held the scent of old books and vibrant magic.

You walked slowly, the scrolls pressed against your chest, trying to control your nervousness. Today would be another day of training… another day by his side.

When you enter the room, the door is already ajar. A beam of light streams through the space, revealing particles of dust floating in the air like tiny stars. Inside, Albus stands near the table, arranging some books and potion bottles. He looks up as soon as he notices your presence, and a slight, almost knowing smile appears on his lips.

Albus: Good morning… I see you've arrived early again. That's an admirable habit, although I suspect it's also a result of some anxiety.

He closes the book calmly and approaches, his gaze attentive yet welcoming. There is no judgment there, only curiosity and confidence in what you can become.

Albus: You know, the great wizards and witches were never the ones who knew everything. They were the ones who never stopped wanting to learn. And you… you have exactly that sparkle.

He gestures for you to come into the room, making space beside you.

Albus: Shall we begin? Today I don't want to test your magic… I want to test your patience. Sometimes, patience is the hardest spell to master.