Hogwarts Homecoming

Dumbledore, with tears in his eyes, sat on a stone like a sad child, exuding an aura of decadence.

If outsiders saw Albus Dumbledore, who had countless great achievements and was a living legend, looking like this, they wouldn't know how to be surprised.

Amosta's expression was calm and calm, even though he had just been harmed by Dumbledore.

There are always some regrets that will make people regret for a lifetime.

Amosta knew about Dumbledore's past, and he was not surprised by Dumbledore's current cowardice.

After waving his wand, a low tripod and a wooden table suppressed the overgrown weeds, and Amosta slowly sat down.

The cork of an old wine bottle on the wooden table popped out, forming a trickle of wine poured into the crystal cup, reflecting the luster of the moon, and the aroma of wine overflowed into the four liquids.

"This is Aberforth's firewhiskey--"

Dumbledore moved the bridge of his crooked nose.

"That's right--"

Amosta nodded.

"We need a little burning wine to warm us up."

As he spoke, he took a sip of the red wine, and the spicy and mellow taste made him sigh happily.

Dumbledore also silently picked up his glass and took a sip.

"I guess I should say sorry to you, Amosta, for how I almost screwed up everything."

Dumbledore mumbled.

"I accept the apology."

Amosta said.

The powerful magic power gave Amosta a stronger body than ordinary people, but the increasingly biting cold wind still made him feel slightly uncomfortable as he did not avoid the cold and heat.

He had no desire to chat. He just sipped his wine one sip after another and stared at the dilapidated old Gaunt house.

The bloodline of the Slytherin family is still passed down in the wizarding world, but Salazar Slytherin's own bloodline will be cut off after a thousand years.

"Don't you need me to explain something, Amosta?"

Dumbledore said, his voice still heavily nasal.

"If what you want to share with me is the story between you and your brother, sister and Grindelwald, I don't think you need to-"

Amosta said calmly.

"Oh, I forgot, you made my past very clear--"

Dumbledore lowered his head and took another sip of his wine.

"That's not—"

Amosta said frankly,

"But there are not many rumors about your past in the wizarding world. Principal Dumbledore, I just listened to some of them carefully. Based on my guesses, I probably know what kind of story it is."

"I think you must think I'm a fool for making such a mistake."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with sadness.

"Everyone has a time when they are young and frivolous and think of themselves as heroes who save the world, Principal Dumbledore.

Especially for those rare geniuses, they are more likely to lose themselves in people's praise, lose their respect for the world, and thus make mistakes. "

"But you didn't, did you?"

Dumbledore wiped his eyes and looked at Amosta with a childish smile.

"Please forgive me for seriously comparing you to the young Gellert and Tom, and of course, to me.

I have compared us. We are both troubled by the mistakes we made when we were young. But Amosta, you have never been troubled like this. To this day, I still feel curious about a young man who is obviously extremely talented. , but he is willing to cover up his own glory and make himself unknown, and controls his life with calm to cold reason."

Dumbledore looked at Amosta curiously.

"How did you do all this?"

Amosta could have made a joke.

For example, if there wasn't a dangerous person like you in Hogwarts, he wouldn't go to such great lengths to make himself look ordinary.

However, the sincere confusion in the words of the vicissitudes of life old man who had lost his disguise at this moment still moved him.

"I'm different from you, Headmaster Dumbledore -"

Amosta said quietly.

He was a person without an innocent childhood. On the first day he was born in this world, that frail baby body contained the soul of an adult.

This allowed him to always have a peaceful mind regarding the gifts he possessed.

"no the same--"

Dumbledore chewed on these words, his half-moon lenses flashed with strange light, and his expression looked a little strange, but he did not continue to ask any more questions.

The two of them didn't speak anymore, but emptied the wine bottles in the cold wind.

clatter--

The ring that Amosta had held in his finger from beginning to end was gently placed in front of Dumbledore.

"I'm sure you know, Headmaster Dumbledore, that nothing can bring someone back to life."

Staring at the ring dreamily, Dumbledore's pupils became hazy again. His thin body was trembling, and he looked as weak as a critically ill patient waiting to die.

"I will regret what happened that afternoon for the rest of my life, Amosta—"

Dumbledore's voice became hoarse again.

Amosta didn't say anything. He just patted Dumbledore's shoulder lightly. When his arm fell, he took away the Elder Wand that Dumbledore had put in his pocket.

"I'll keep your wand for now, Headmaster Dumbledore--"

Amosta said,

"In case you do something dangerous when you are emotional."

Dumbledore was speechless, his fingertips getting close to the cold ring with difficulty.

Holding the ring holder like Amosta, Dumbledore raised the ring to his eyes and looked at the Resurrection Stone embedded in the ring holder.

Amosta lowered his head and stroked the Elder Wand, which was accompanied by death and blood, with his palm. Amosta's heart began to throb a little.

Just like when he first saw the double snake staff, his mind was confused by the ambition growing in his heart, this elder wand was also conveying something to Amosta and arousing his emotions.

However, in just a few breaths, Amosta's eyes were completely clear again.

Grindelwald, who owned the Elder Wand, still lost to Dumbledore. Every previous owner who owned it was deprived of the wand by his successors.

For a great magician like Amosta, the Elder Wand is only a hindrance rather than a help.

Compared to the identity of the Elder Wand and the Three Deathly Hallows, Amosta is more interested in it because it is one of the coordinates.

Raising his head, he saw Dumbledore still looking at the ring infatuatedly. Amosta put the Elder Wand into his pocket and took a step back.

"Do you know how to use it, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore raised his hand, covered the Resurrection Stone with his slender palm, and rubbed it three times.

Vertical lines suddenly appeared between Amosta's eyebrows. He looked away and looked around cautiously.

There is a kind of power that appears for no reason, just like some kind of power suddenly interferes with the low-dimensional world in the high-dimensional world.

The clear air was quickly filled with gray mist, which made Amosta's eyes sharper.

The smell of death.

Just like the gray mist that corroded the island of Avalon, but it didn't give Amosta the evil senses.

Could it be said that the Resurrection Stone can really bring the deceased back from the lost time? !

Amosta looked surprised.

His research in this area is far from thorough.

In the thin gray mist, a dark figure appeared.

"Ariana."

Dumbledore shed two lines of clear tears. He opened his arms and stumbled towards the black shadow.

The girl was slender, with long flowing hair, a face as delicate as a girl next door and blue eyes that were the trademark of the Dumbledore family. Her eyes were clear and untainted. She was exactly the same as the girl in the portrait hanging in the Pig's Head Bar.

"Ariana."

With tears streaming down his face, Dumbledore called to the approaching blond girl like a dream voice.

"Can you forgive me, Ariana?"

Ariana smiled silently, stopped at a certain distance, and looked at Dumbledore tenderly.

Amosta's eyelids were almost narrowed into a slit, and his brows were even more wrinkled.

Who is Dumbledore talking to?

The shadow embodied by his inner projection?

That's what Amosta thought, but

Amosta pursed his lips. What was that fuzzy, vague, weak but real fluctuation in his soul? ! (End of chapter)