Chapter 809: Honeybee Past

This was a bright valley.

A stream flowed murmuringly over the emerald fields, and the sunlight melted and spread like honey.

There was a scent of grass mixed with the aroma of baked cakes from the wizarding kitchen in the air, and the sweetness of wild apple trees on the distant hillside.

A ginger cat lay spread out on the wall, its belly rising and falling with its breathing.

"We're almost there."

Dumbledore said slowly.

Behind him, the young wizard in black robes was thinking about how Headmaster Dumbledore had snuck out of Hogwarts again; no wonder Professor McGonagall always had some complaints inadvertently.

He looked up; he and Headmaster Dumbledore were standing in an old alley, with the brilliant summer sky overhead, and clouds floating lazily. Some houses stood on both sides of the narrow alley, and the Christmas decorations in the windows were shining brightly. Not far ahead, golden streetlights indicated that it was the center of the village.

Sean knew where this was.

Godric's Hollow.

A village in the western counties of England.

"History of Magic" introduced it like this:

Since the signing and taking effect of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1689, wizards had completely turned to concealment.

Perhaps naturally, they formed their own small communities within the community.

Many small villages attracted a few wizarding families, and these families united to help and protect each other.

Tinworth in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, Ottery St. Catchpole on the south coast of England, all had wizarding families living together, living among tolerant, sometimes Confunded Muggles.

Among such semi-wizarding settlements, the most famous was perhaps Godric's Hollow.

This southwestern village was the birthplace of the great wizard Godric Gryffindor, and also where the wizard goldsmith Bowman Wright crafted the first Golden Snitch.

The graveyard was engraved with the surnames of ancient wizarding families, which was undoubtedly the reason for the constant ghost stories in the small church for many centuries.

"Oh, isn't it truly wonderful? Decades have passed, and it is still the same as in my memory, just with fewer wizards..."

Dumbledore walked on the path full of wildflowers, his tone relaxed,

"Do you know where this is?"

"Godric's Hollow, Headmaster."

Sean answered.

"That's right. Walk faster, before Minerva finds out we're missing... we're going to the graveyard..."

Dumbledore quickened his pace; although the old headmaster was over a hundred years old, his body was surprisingly sturdy.

Perhaps because according to the wizard's age calculation method, the old headmaster was only middle-aged.

This also led to a result: Sean needed to jog to keep up with Dumbledore; he simply leaped and transformed into a black cat weaving through the fields and flowers.

Dumbledore glanced at the black cat silently, his eyes filled with a long-lost playfulness.

Turning left along the path, the center of the village—a small square—appeared before them.

In the center of the square was a war memorial-like structure, half-hidden behind pine trees in the wind, with colorful lights hung around it.

There were a few shops, a post office, a pub, and a small church, with stained glass radiating jewel-like brilliance across the square.

The grass had been compacted: the places where people had stepped all day were hard and slippery.

Villagers crossed back and forth in front of them, gently illuminated by streetlights.

Occasionally someone looked at Dumbledore in surprise and quickly covered their mouth; others came up to greet the old headmaster warmly and simply, but their eyes grew moist when they turned away.

Dumbledore smiled and responded to everyone, wizards, witches, young wizards, old wizards... although Dumbledore hadn't returned for dozens of years, it seemed the people here still recognized him.

The black cat heard snippets of laughter and pop music from the pub door, and heard hymns singing in the small church.

There was a narrow gate at the entrance of the graveyard. Dumbledore pushed it open as lightly as possible, and the black cat jumped in.

It had to be said that the path leading to the graveyard gate was truly slippery, and the black cat's claws were all extended.

Rows of snow-covered tombstones stood in the field, with dazzling red, gold, and green light spots dotted among them, which were projections of the stained glass on the snow.

Dumbledore stopped at one place.

The black cat jumped onto his shoulder and looked along his gaze:

Below was a dark tombstone; on the icy, moss-covered granite, Kendra Dumbledore was engraved, with the daughter Ariana below the dates of birth and death.

And a motto:

【Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also】

"Have you seen her?"

Dumbledore was speaking, but his eyes had not left the graveyard for a single moment.

"Not yet, but my ghost friend Lita has seen her."

The black cat said.

"And me?"

Dumbledore asked.

"The power of the Soul Relic has not recovered; you have to wait for a month."

The black cat leaped and transformed into a young, handsome young wizard.

"Oh, let's go have a cup of afternoon tea, and then we'll go see her together, what do you think? Mr. Green?"

Dumbledore looked somewhat distracted.

Otherwise, how could he say something like going to see Ariana together?

But Sean nodded:

"Okay, Headmaster."

So the two set off, and they came to the small pub.

Dumbledore ordered a cup of bitter black tea without adding a single sugar cube, but he ordered a jasmine tea filled with sugar for Sean.

"Are people always happiest when approaching happiness?"

Dumbledore asked suddenly.

"People are always anxious when happiness is in progress."

Sean said,

"You don't need to do this."

Sean suddenly understood.

He knew how Headmaster Dumbledore was going to let him see Ariana.

That was to let him see the old wizard's most fearful thing—his Boggart, his sister, the dead Ariana.

"I just wanted you to see her in advance, my dear little Green, otherwise how would you know it was her?

I thought my fear had died. But it is still there; as long as she is still there, it will always exist... just consider it satisfying an old man's wish."

Dumbledore entered that trance state again, and Sean felt somewhat unbearable.

"You should believe me."

Sean said.

"I loyally believe in you, Mr. Green. But I don't believe in myself; am I still worthy of seeing her? I..."

Dumbledore murmured, his words stopping abruptly.

What choked his mouth was love.

"The souls in the Boundary linger because of obsession; there is only one reason a soul can find another soul—they are waiting for each other."

Sean thought of the old headmistress of Ilvermorny; he hadn't seen her again to this day.

Because her adventure was too far, and her soul no longer lingered and waited.

"Go see her, Mr. Dumbledore, just as if she has been waiting for you all along; unless there is no other choice, do not retreat."