A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

The wizards sang happily, everyone hugged each other, and even danced excitedly.

Everyone cheered for the destruction of the diary, and everyone expressed their inner excitement and joy in various ways.

Countless fireworks were released from the wand, and they bloomed in strange and weird ways, releasing colorful lights in the night sky of Gedric Valley.

People look up to the sky and gaze at these beautiful fireworks, celebrating today's perfect judgment.

"Roger, it's so beautiful!" Hermione said excitedly as she looked at everything in front of her.

She felt the joy and happiness of this moment and couldn't help but shed tears.

Rogge was also affected by the scene in front of him, nodded and said, "This is the beauty of peace."

The psychological trauma Voldemort left to the wizarding world was too heavy, and today's trial made everyone finally feel relieved. The magical world can completely defeat him, judge him, and embrace a better future.

After the passion though, there was Voldemort's other Horcruxes to worry about. But facing the truth is better than foolish inaction.

Rogge looked towards the forest in the distance. The moon slowly climbed up the branches, and the lights on both sides of the road lit up one by one.

"Green, bring out your wine!" A wizard shouted excitedly to the bar owner.

The bearded Green smiled and nodded in agreement with the request. He waved his magic wand, and barrels of wine jumped out of the cellar. They pop open the cork cheerfully and welcome everyone to drink the wine.

"Who wants to play?" Green shouted to people holding the music in the store.

"I'll do it!" The bald wizard put down the butterbeer in his hand, took the bagpipe and started playing. Cheerful music filled the square.

A bonfire was lit in the center of the square, and people sat around the fire, singing, dancing, and drinking wine. People with broomsticks soared in the night sky, flying back and forth happily, celebrating this victory.

Harry sat next to Dumbledore, enjoying the happiness and warmth in front of him. At this moment, he felt that he truly belonged to this magical world and felt the power of peace and unity. He firmly believed that only by defeating Voldemort could he embrace a promising future.

"Roger, can you still play the guitar?" Hermione was a little surprised when she saw him using transfiguration to turn a branch into a guitar.

"Of course." Rogge nodded. He had been practicing for a long time to get out of singles.

But after practicing, I realized that people like to play the piano. Because pianos are more expensive and more stylish.

Time has passed and this memory has become like an old photo. It has become a meaningless story.

"Can I request a song?" Hermione looked at him expectantly.

"This..." Rogge hesitated, "I only know one or two songs."

"Okay." Hermione was a little disappointed, but she still looked forward to hearing the music played by Roger.

Everyone was having fun in the square, but some people chose to go in the opposite direction. Snape silently left the square and walked towards Potter's old residence.

Harry's home was turned into ruins during the war that year. The whole house looked like a broken tree, with only a small half remaining standing stubbornly. People keep it as it is, not only to commemorate their family's defeat of Voldemort, but also to warn future generations.

The ruins are already covered with grass, and occasionally grasshoppers are jumping on them. When they heard someone coming, they hurriedly ran away.

As Snape stepped into the ruins, waves of nostalgia washed over him. More than ten years later, everything here is still so familiar.

Snape stared at the second floor of the house, where the rooms were not completely destroyed. The interior is still in its original state, including a crib, a worn-out desk lamp, and a string of wind chimes...

Snape suddenly bent down and picked up the wind chimes, and gently shook the string of wind chimes, making a crisp sound. A smile appeared on his face, but it quickly faded away and became as cold as ever.

"You still can't forget her?" A woman's voice came from behind Snape. Snape clenched his fists tightly and did not dare to look back.

If anyone else at Hogwarts were here, they would be in disbelief that Mrs. Pince could make such a tender and sad voice.

Snape lowered his head slightly, "The letter at the beginning was just a prank by the students."

"I know." Mrs. Pingsi walked a few steps, came to the position in front of the ruins, and stopped.

"But what about the later letters?" Mrs. Pince took out those letters from her arms and showed them to Snape like a treasure.

"I'm not worth your wait," Snape said softly, softer than the breeze.

"I do!" Mrs. Pingsi looked at the ruins unwillingly. She took a deep breath and left here silently.

Snape didn't dare to move for a long time. When the wind blew the bell, he woke up and sighed softly.

If it weren't for that annoying boy playing a prank, he wouldn't have to answer Mrs. Pince's various questions. Things won't come to this.

Snape's heart was in a mess, just like the shadows of trees under the moonlight in the distance, entangled and confused. He hung the wind chime back in the shabby room, stood there for a moment, and then walked toward Godric's cemetery.

The cemetery is next to the church, where many ancient wizarding families are buried. Peverell, Wright, Lachlan... there are undoubtedly many ghosts living in the church, so that ghost stories have continued for many centuries.

Likewise, there are many stories buried here.

Snape entered from the side of the church and walked through the courtyard to the cemetery. A cobblestone path winds through the grass, flanked by rows of tombstones.

The silver moonlight shines on the tombstone, and the lines of inscriptions show the owner's life. Either glory or ugliness, you will eventually find peace in the land.

But Snape felt that some people were destined to die without a burial place. For example, Voldemort.

The Easter Judgment was so wonderful that nothing could make him happier. Even if Harry got an O in his Potions class, he wouldn't be any happier.

Snape walked down the stone steps and easily found the familiar tombstone among a large number of white marble tombstones. Lily's tombstone is engraved with this epitaph: The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

He had automatically ignored James lying next to Lily, the guy who should have been the one he hated the most, but now that he thought about it, his hatred actually faded.

"Can time dilute everything?" Snape said to himself, and then avoided the question.

He squatted down, feeling guilty. How could you forget to bring a bouquet of flowers? Although you can conjure a bouquet of lilies with a magic wand, this is just perfunctory.

Snape stroked the tombstone, and a man began to chatter. He told Lily about Harry's performance in school. Although he was mediocre in Potions, he was very good in flying.

Speaking of this, Snape felt a little sad. He thought about James again, and that Harry was as good at Quidditch as his father.

"I don't know whether I should tell you or not." Snape took a deep breath and slowly confided: "There seems to be something wrong with Harry's scar."

"Albus and I both noticed that Voldemort's death was unusual. Your magic worked and Harry survived.

However, based on my research and that of Albus. Voldemort's death most likely constituted a Horcrux ritual. "

"We checked a lot of information...I'm sorry, Lily." Snape shook his head, "I haven't found a solution yet."

"But please believe me, I will protect Harry." Snape slowly stood up and silently added in his heart: Even at the cost of my life.