Godric's Hollow.
Two figures, an old man and a young man, were walking here.
"What should I call you, John or... Joel?"
Dumbledore was like an old friend he hadn't seen for many years, stepping back into this painful place.
He should have been relieved, but John kept him from peace.
"This is your choice," John walked into the cemetery where the three of them had ventured, stopped, and said calmly, "Use your favorite destiny to find the title you need."
"Dumbledore, what you have escaped from is what makes you feel guilty."
The blooming white flowers had covered the entire tombstone. John slowly squatted down and spread them with his hands.
The wreath under the tombstone has grown into a whole piece.
"How long has it been since you came back?"
Hearing this question, Dumbledore's eyes were dazed and he murmured: "A long time."
"You should have discovered it, but your avoidance made you lose it again."
John's eyes were gentle, he stood up again, and he stretched out his left hand.
The enclosed soil is divided.
The coffin was held up by white flowers and slowly rose up.
"I don't understand," Dumbledore said without moving his eyes for a moment until the white coffin was raised, "Why did you do this?"
"How did you do it?"
Dumbledore had a complicated expression, but after John told him the equal exchange, he knew he couldn't refuse.
He was even willing to plead and plead with the boy who violated the taboo.
Under this coffin, buried was Dumbledore's lifelong guilt.
He once evaded his true intention and once evaded responsibility.
Let his beloved sleep forever.
He had no way of knowing who had caused the accident.
But his heart was no longer perfect.
Saint Dumbledore, Dumbledore who loves the world, is never a good brother.
"How?"
Hearing this question, John shook his head and laughed.
"Dumbledore, magic, like alchemy, comes with a price."
He looked directly into Dumbledore's eyes and said expressionlessly: "Are you thinking about what magic that Slytherin used to violate the taboo?"
"Yes, I think so," Dumbledore sighed and said honestly, "You have never surprised me and you have never been able to see through my thoughts."
Seeing his admission, John said in an extremely indifferent voice: "My soul, the great Dumbledore."
"soul?"
"Yes, soul." John crossed his finger across his heart and grinned, "There is a piece missing here."
"If you have read "Advanced Black Magic Revealed", you should understand that the formation of a Horcrux requires the sacrifice of the soul."
"Even for me, resurrecting a dead person is not an easy task."
"But Voldemort gave me a reminder, a way to destroy the body and still keep people alive."
In Dumbledore's shaking pupils, John said with great ease: "So I cut open the soul and made a Horcrux for her."
"My soul is no longer whole, Dumbledore."
His voice was like thunder from the sky.
Dumbledore took two steps back and muttered: "Why, why did you separate your soul, John?"
"Maybe it's that flower, maybe it's her chaotic and sincere kindness, willing me to make eyes." John said, "In exchange of equal value, I made a deal with her."
"Now……"
The coffin slowly opened.
The young girl inside has become a skeleton.
However, that pure and flawless white flower still exists.
John held up the flowers and murmured: "It's ironic, this purest flower is watered with the most evil black magic."
"No," Dumbledore said guiltily, shaking his head, "that flower is pure."
Voluntary sacrifice.
John, who is the most proficient in soul magic, knows the disadvantages caused by soul defects, but his approach is different from Voldemort, who also makes Horcruxes.
Voldemort took the lives of others in order to make Horcruxes.
And he chose to separate his soul and use his soul to make a Horcrux for Ariana.
"Do you remember Tom's spell?" John said to himself, "The blood of the enemy, the bones of the father, the flesh of the servant."
"But Ariana, she's different."
"She didn't hold a grudge against anyone."
"At the time of death, what she did was still love you, love..."
"Kill her, brothers."
John took out a gold scale from his small bag and put it down.
"Then change the magic."
He looked up at Dumbledore, who was already in tears, and stretched out his hand.
A tear from Dumbledore's beard flew into John's hand.
Tears fall on one end of the golden scale, tilting it.
"Guilty."
An animated portrait forcibly taken from the Hog's Head Tavern.
"Pity."
John pointed at his head and slowly pulled out a silvery memory.
"Nostalgia."
The three objects were placed on the scale, and John placed the white flower on the other side.
A magical scene appeared on the originally tilted scale.
The weight of a flower actually started to sway with the side where the three things were placed.
John watched quietly until the scale stopped swinging and balanced on both sides.
Taking out the scepter representing resurrection, John held it flat and sounded an ancient and obscure note.
The golden scepter gradually melted, and the gold-like liquid flowed into the coffin.
A magical scene happened.
The dead bones melted quickly and merged with the scepter.
John took out a bottle, opened it, and sprinkled the dirt inside into the coffin.
"The land of my first birthplace."
Then he plucked one from the white flowers that surrounded the tomb and threw it into it.
"The flower of the ultimate abode."
A body indistinguishable from Ariana's appears in the coffin.
This was originally the spell and preparation used by the despicable Herbo to resurrect, but it was an advantage for John.
It also saves him having to think of another solution.
"And the last thing," John looked at Ariana's body, picked up the white Horcrux flower, and blew gently, "Soul."
The white flowers turned into petals and flew towards Ariana.
After a long silence.
The girl's eyelashes trembled slightly.
Under the dusk light, the girl opened her eyes as blue as the sky.
Long years passed.
Nearly a century of regret.
Even the greatest wizards can't contain their emotions.
Dumbledore's body was trembling, his old eyes were covered with tears, and he could not clearly see the girl's expression.
But he knew that his sister was back.
The regrets and guilt from a century ago all burst out at this moment.
He was crying like an old scoundrel.
After loving the world for so long, Dumbledore finally let himself be bold for his family.
Ariana woke up again and looked at the old man strangely.
Suddenly, she saw the young man.
As before, she held out her hand.
John was stunned and handed his wand over for him to grab.
"Good afternoon, Ariana."
Ariana seemed to have changed. She summoned up the courage to say, "Afternoon, Joel."
The orange light of dusk hit the side of John's face.
"Need to get reacquainted," John smiled and stretched out his hand, "John Wick, hello, Ariana
. "
Ariana, her life ended at the age of six and her life ended at the age of fourteen.
At 112 years old, she was given a new lease of life.
John looked back, seeing the purple and blue in his eyes.
Just like in that safe house with nothing, the two people cuddled and relied on each other.
Nagini let go of Credence's hand, ran to John, and took him into her arms.
"What a... gentle king."
Nagini's tears fell on John's shoulders.
The voice full of heartache said, "Are you tired, my king?"
Three time flashes, the king who counts everything.
Lean in my arms and sleep for a while.
you are too tired.
"That's quite a bit."
John smiled.
Being reminded like this, John felt the boundless weight coming towards him.
John has no sisters.
In Nagini, he felt a kind of care that was different from maternal love.
You can let go of anything.
Have a peaceful sleep.
Dumbledore?
No matter what, it's none of my business that old scoundrel just wallowing around.
His gaze fell on Credence across Nagini.
In a tone that was familiar to Credence, he said, "Credence, I think I'm a little late."
"Maybe I should call you Dumbledore."
"Haha, three Dumbledores."
"It's hard to tell the difference between Dumbledore and Dumbledore..."
He mumbled, eyes already closed, leaning into Nagini's arms.
Credence slowly knelt down on one knee and said with great piety to the murmuring king: "Yes, I have recovered my origin..."
"My king, please let me follow you. This time, I am strong enough."
He lowered his head, which had not been lowered beside Grindelwald, in the sunset.
Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore.
A relief to make up for regrets, a piety to find a home, and a dependence after rebirth.
...
