"This is quite complicated," Dumbledore said as he leaned back ever so slightly in his garish orange chintz armchair. The sky outside was so grey and cloudy that there could be a thousand dragons soaring above, and you would be none the wiser to the fact.

"Complicated? Complicated is brewing Thunderbrew potion. This is the most confusing,  problem that entered the gates of Hogwarts in centuries. " Severus looked ready to hand in his resignation letter. The only upside he could see to this was that he was now sure that the boy's tormentors wouldn't be randomly waltzing into Hogwarts any time soon. 

"Severus," Poppy looked ready to hit him with another, much thicker, magazine. 

"It's clear that he will need to stay for a little while longer. While Poppy has been extremely helpful," Dumbledore nodded his head towards her, " he's nowhere near healed." 

Severus doubted he'd ever be healed for as long as he was alive? Dead? Resurrected? Heck, he didn't even know any more. 

Poppy knew that whatever happened to him was going to be horrible to hear. But to be whipped to death by his uncle? For simply defending someone he loved, someone who was in need of help and protecting innocent war prisoners? It was just too much.

"I think it would be best if we moved him to a separate place, one a little less open," Filius proposed. 

"The psychiatric ward at St. Mungo's, perhaps?" Severus said half cruelly, half seriously. It would be good to let him stay any longer than necessary. Term was only two months away. It seemed like a long time, but he was sure it would fly by like it always did. 

"Severus Snape. He's just a child. I understand what you're saying, but say it tactfully, please." Minerva said exasperatedly. Severus was icy on the best of days, and normally, she could handle it, but today wasn't one of those days. Not after finding out all of this. 

" Severus, you know as well as I that you cannot simply hand him over to a hospital or something similar." Dumbledore said. Severus gave a dithering glare but didn't argue. 

"You've seen inside his mind, you know the situation. It's clear that he's somehow managed to reincarnate and find his way to Hogwarts. The castle let him in for a reason."

"This is a school. The boy's situation is pitiful. But that doesn't mean we can keep him here. He is a young man, not a stray cat we picked up off of the streets of Hogsmeade. It wouldn't do for anyone." Severus said. Everyone cringed. He was right. He was being callous and unkind, but he was right.  

"That is not the pressing matter right now." Dumbledore spoke, leaving no room for argument on that front.

"The castle let him in for a reason."

"And despite all that, the boy has been through immense suffering. He's been bereaved, abandoned and post-whipped by his own family. The last thing he needs is the cold corridors of a psychiatric ward. He needs a kind hand to guide him on the right path

Severus pressed his lips into a thin line, wondering what the 'right path' meant. To him, the right path came too late after too many mistakes, and in the end, it amounted to nothing. 

"There are many things that we need to do, but perhaps all we need is just a little understanding," Minerva said, giving Severus what could only be described as the evil eye. Severus happily returned it. 

"But right now," Dumbledore slowly got up from his chair, with a measured stretch of his limbs. Severus wondered if he actually felt sore from sitting down, or if it was just for the ageing wizard show. 

"As the headmaster, I should at the very least pay our unexpected guest a visit. As it is well overdue,"  

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Wangji sat hunched over in the hospital bed with his chest pressed to his knees. If he was aware of what was happening, his face didn't show it one bit. His eyes were glassy and unseeing as he stared into space. However, there was far too much in his mind, far too many thoughts for any one person to have. One thought took centre stage.

Why aren't I dead? 

He wanted to be dead. Maybe he was, maybe this was hell. That could be it; he could be in hell. This seemed like hell, an odd-looking sick ward that was seemingly abandoned. No, he knew it wasn't abandoned, whoever healed his wounds and invaded his head was here. He knew that somebody invaded his head; he may be bordering on delirium and perhaps slight insanity, but he wasn't stupid. 

He may not be stupid, but his senses were far too dulled, or perhaps he had just ascended to a whole new level of apatheticness. So when the most odd-looking man he'd ever seen in his life who was sporting a great big beard and gaudy jangly robes sat next to him, he didn't even move a muscle. 

"Young man, can you understand me?" The old man with the ugly beard said. 

Wangji tilted his head, trying to decipher just what ugly and clumsy-sounding language that was. 

"Nǐ yào shénme?" Wangji said hoarsely, voice feeling sore from disuse. he knew he was being extremely impolite, and so someone who was clearly an elder, but he really didn't care at the present moment. 

The man quirked his eyebrows ever so slightly before pulling out an... ornate-looking twig from his sleeve, waving it and saying some strange words. Wangji felt a sharp twang at the back of his head, although it wasn't nearly as painful as the yes time. 

"Can you understand me now, young man?" Wangji blinked hard. Whatever that stick did, it was powerful. Powerful enough to bridge the gap between languages like it was nothing. 

"...Yes." Wangji's voice sounded weird in the strange and clumsy-sounding language, and he cringed at it. 

"What's your name, young man?"

Wangji hesitated for a second, should he even tell the truth? no, he might as well, they'd seen inside his head already, what was the point of lying about anything? 

 "Lan Wangji." He said. Well, at least his name still sounded the same in this language. 

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen." He said with just the slightest of sighs. What did that matter anyway?  

"Ah, I see." The man's eyes wrinkled up.

"I shall take it that you don't have any clue where you are or how you ended up here?" The man said softly. 

"I died. " Wangji said quite bluntly as he finally turned to face the man, his golden eyes almost burning a hole into the man's blue ones. The man only gave a slight eyebrow raise of mild surprise as he maintained the stare for a few seconds more. 

"That is quite unfortunate, yes." The man said as though Wangji had just told him he had broken a vase or something. Quite unfortunate? He died. He was technically dead. 

"But, all in all, I do believe some introductions are in order on my part." The man adjusted his sleeve; the ruby charms that were sewn onto it made a jingle-jangle noise as he did.

"My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school we happen to be in currently," Dumbledore explained. 

Wangji pursed his lips together. Who on earth has a name that long? What parent would give their child such a long name, he was sure he would get a cramp if he even attempted to write it down. But back to the matter at hand, he was in a school. Hogwarts School for...Hogwarts School for...

"...Haah?" Wangji once again cringed, this time at the donkey-like sound of disbelief that came out of his mouth.  

"Witchcraft and Wizardry, you heard quite right, my boy." Dumbledore correctly guessed the reason for Wangji's outburst.

"Witchcraft and Wizardry; more commonly referred to as magic. The same magic that resides in you."

Wangji didn't know whether to be baffled at the fact that the man said he had magic, or offended at the fact that the man had basically called him a witch. No, hold on, not witch, it was that other one, wasn't it? Wizard, yes. A wizard. 

"Although it is far different to any magic I've encountered, all the basic principles seem to more or less align." Dumbledore placed his hand on his lap, one over the other. 

"But no matter, I shall leave you to your thoughts for the moment, but be assured the rest of the castle is open for you to roam. But now I fear I have a small debt to pay, as purple was quite incorrect indeed." Dumbledore got up and carefully glided towards the door, the patterns on his robes swishing and moving like the fabric form of dizziness. 

Wangji didn't bother to even think about that last part or what it meant. For the umpteenth time, he felt like his head was going to explode into a million pieces. 

Hello all! Chapter 5, and Wangji has met Dumbledore.  wanted to make this a small interaction and instead focus more on the conversation between the professors. Don't worry, Wangji will get plenty more attention in the chapters to come. He is the main character and all. 

I wanted Wangji to be unable to speak English for this one. In the many transmigration fics I've read, the character can just all of a sudden speak the language, so I wanted to make this more realistic. 

Oh, and if you're wondering how Snape understood anything he saw inside Wangji's head, it is because one of my many, many headcannons is that when using Leggilimancy, language isn't a problem because when you are inside someone's mind, you understand everything on a whole new level. Not actual words and their meanings per se, but you understand what's being said. 

It's 27 minutes past midnight right now, and I couldn't care less. I found myself having a bit of difficulty with the first part of this chapter, but once I get into the flow, I'm like a freight train there's no stopping me. 

And I made myself a chapter divider! Knowing me, I'll probably change it again. I am just so indecisive when it comes to graphics sometimes. 

Oh and if you were wondering what Wangji said to Dumbledore in Mandarin, it's this. 

Nǐ yào shénme? = Who are you? (Informal)

I just feel like he would be so fed up that he'd just say it outright like that. Manners be damned, he had just died. 

That's all for now.

Stay safe and stay fabulous. 

Sincerely, Amethyst.