It was already evening, and the students were enjoying dinner in the Great Hall, while Kai Adler followed Dumbledore to a quiet corner on the eighth floor of the castle.
A tapestry hung on the wall, depicting a wizard attempting to teach a troll ballet and promptly getting whacked by a club.
Kai raised an eyebrow and glanced at the old man beside him. "You didn't bring me all the way up here just to admire this ridiculous piece of art, did you?"
"Of course not," Dumbledore replied with a chuckle. "But it is rather amusing, isn't it?"
Without further explanation, Dumbledore turned to face a bare stretch of wall, closed his eyes, and began pacing back and forth three times. He gently pulled the younger man along with him. Kai watched, confused, until—on the final pass—a smooth door appeared where nothing had been before.
"Oh," Kai said, mildly surprised. "Looks like I was right to be suspicious."
Dumbledore pushed the door open, and Kai followed him into a vast, empty room. There were no furnishings, no decorations—just space.
"Is this your secret base or something?"
"Kind of…" the old man said, mimicking Kai's earlier tone as he looked around.
"This is the Room of Requirement. As the name implies, it transforms based on the seeker's need."
"And how exactly did you find this place?"
Dumbledore gave a sheepish smile. "Well, once I was desperately searching for a bathroom and took a wrong turn. When I walked past this spot, a door appeared… and inside was the most extravagant collection of chamber pots you can imagine."
Kai gave the older man a strange look, clearly uncertain whether he was being serious. Dumbledore simply nodded as if to confirm the tale.
"So you're saying, if I just think about what I want, the room will create it?"
"Exactly. Give it a try."
Kai closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again without much change in expression.
"What did you think about?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
"Hermione—when she's grown up."
Dumbledore paused. "…This room can't conjure living people from nothing, Kai."
Kai clicked his tongue in exaggerated disappointment. "Shame."
Dumbledore exhaled softly, now more convinced than ever. What Kai had once told him about only wanting to fall in love hadn't been a deflection at all—this boy was seriously romantic.
Still, he thought to himself, that's far healthier than obsessing over world domination.
He cleared his throat. "One of the reasons I brought you here is to help you manage your… condition."
Kai's eyes narrowed slightly. "My condition?"
"Gellert informed me that, once a month, the Obscurus inside you becomes unstable. Even if you manage to suppress it, you burn through immense reserves of magic and are temporarily left no different from a Muggle."
Kai nodded silently.
"This room is secure, untraceable, and almost never entered by anyone else. Here, you'll be free to release the Obscurus safely—without risking others."
Kai frowned. "That's a decent temporary fix. But it doesn't resolve the core issue."
Dumbledore smiled wryly. "I agree. And unfortunately, very few Obscurials have lived as long as you. I've never encountered a case quite like yours."
"So I'm a walking historical anomaly," Kai said dryly.
"I promise you," Dumbledore said, stepping closer and lowering his voice, "I'll find a way to help you, truly."
In that moment, he didn't seem like the revered and enigmatic Headmaster—but something softer. A father concerned for his son… or perhaps, Kai thought, a very worried mother.
A subtle warmth bloomed in Kai's chest. In this world, aside from Hermione, only two people had ever truly shown him this kind of care: the old man back in Germany, and the one standing before him now.
"I also have a theory," Dumbledore went on. "That brings me to the second reason we're here."
Kai looked up.
"Gellert must have taught you this: Magic, at its core, is subjective. It's not about the body—it's about the soul. And it responds most strongly to one's innermost thoughts. Wizards attuned to White Magic are usually kind-hearted, clear-minded individuals. Dark Magic, by contrast, tends to be favored by those who are cruel, arrogant, or simply reckless."
Kai raised a brow and muttered, "You could've just said my name."
Dumbledore ignored the sarcasm. "Which is why I must commend you, Kai," he said earnestly. "Wizards who wield this much Dark Magic are often corrupted by it. Many lose themselves to madness or violence. You, however, remain composed. It speaks to a remarkable strength of character."
"Gee. Thanks," Kai said, dry as ever.
"Still, your magic has been… undeniably marked by the nature of Dark Magic," Dumbledore continued. "And therein lies the problem."
"But isn't the Obscurus essentially a form of Dark Magic too?" Kai asked. "Shouldn't the two get along?"
"No," Dumbledore replied simply. "Because one mountain cannot hold two tigers."
Kai's eyes flickered with comprehension. "And I'm the mountain?"
"Exactly," the old man beamed. "It's such a shame I can't award points for cleverness right now."
Dumbledore went on. "Dark Magic is inherently selfish and domineering. Even within the same body, opposing sources of Dark-aligned power will battle for dominance."
"But they're both… my powers," Kai said, frowning. "Aren't they?"
Dumbledore gave him a knowing look.
And suddenly, Kai understood.
He had said it himself: magic comes from the soul, not the body. The Obscurus… must have already existed within this body before he had transmigrated. The magic he used now came from his soul, from who he was before. Different origins. Different systems.
Of course they were clashing.
So… they knew.
Both Gellert and Dumbledore had known from the beginning that he wasn't originally from this world.
Kai turned to look at Dumbledore, but the old man's expression didn't change.
"The you that stands before me now is you," he said calmly.
…And just like that, his greatest secret was quietly acknowledged and dismissed.
No judgment. No threat. Just quiet understanding.
Dumbledore continued, "Now that we understand the root of the problem, I'd like you to try my proposed solution."
"Which is?"
"Change the nature of your magic."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "You want me to study White Magic under you."
"Exactly."
Kai folded his arms, thoughtful. "Wouldn't that make the conflict worse? Light and darkness don't exactly mix."
Dumbledore gave him a mischievous wink. "Ah, but that's where it gets interesting. I once came across a fascinating old theory from Germany—Gegensatzpaarigkeit."
Kai blinked. "Bless you?"
"No no," Dumbledore said with a grin, "It means complementary opposites. The belief that opposing forces—light and dark, strength and softness—don't cancel each other, but balance each other when properly understood. Think of it as magical homeopathy—only less absurd."
Kai stared at him flatly. "Professor, are you sure you're not just making this up as you go?"
"Quite possibly," Dumbledore admitted cheerfully. "But it's not like we have any better options, do we?"
"You really are making this up as you go."
"Let's call it… inspired improvisation."