Chapter 811: Leaving School

"This is the day of my shame, the yesterday I fear.

I wanted you to see this, to make you understand my mistakes..."

Dumbledore looked at the distant horizon with light blue eyes, and the church hymns were drifting away with the wind.

"As you know, my performance when I was young and vigorous proved that power is my weakness, my temptation.

It's strange to say, child; perhaps those most suited to hold power are those who never seek it, just like..."

Dumbledore conjured a chair with his wand and sat down, and took a bunch of white flowers from his robes.

He placed the flowers in front of the epitaph and gently wiped the dust attached to it with his hand.

"But staying at Hogwarts was always safer; I think I am a good teacher—"

"You have always done very well. You are the best headmaster."

"I hope this is not flattery, but if my actions can also satisfy you, it proves that I haven't made no progress all these years.

But there is one point I am confused about—I thought everyone was walking around dragging the corpses of yesterday, but look, I met you, child; you have surprised me countless times.

Could you please tell me, Mr. Green, why does happiness satisfy you so easily?"

Dumbledore looked up and stared kindly at Sean.

He had seen too many insatiable desires; he didn't expect to see a clear and transparent stream one day.

This child's heart must have some kind of flame to distinguish him from everyone else.

"Happiness is just a situation, Professor."

Sean said seriously,

"If you can't feel happiness intensely without pain, that's just comfort and mediocrity, not happiness and good luck."

"Ah... so, misfortune has given you wealth; this is the first time I've heard of it,"

Dumbledore's words took a big turn and said suddenly,

"Or, have you seen more misfortune, making you even gladly accept your current life?

Is it mine? Or Minerva's? Or perhaps, Severus's?"

Sean knew Headmaster Dumbledore could always perceive many things, but he seemed to have underestimated the old wizard's sharpness.

Dumbledore didn't continue to pursue the question; if he had to say who he felt most at ease handing the future to.

Then he could no longer find anyone more suitable than the young wizard in front of him.

"Well, those who know the future should always keep some mystery.

Let's go back quickly; I hope I can still drink the afternoon tea in the Great Hall..."

Dumbledore was smiling, as if he had unloaded a heavy burden.

Of course, his mistakes could still not be forgiven, but he finally had a chance for atonement.

Better yet, dear Mr. Green said he was the best headmaster.

Oh, Merlin, was there anything more satisfying than this?

Dumbledore hummed an unknown tune, somewhat like the Christmas carol Professor Sprout had guided the young wizards to sing.

He took Sean, placed some flowers in the graveyard, and a few seconds later, they stood together in front of a memorial monument.

Behind it was a statue of three people: a man with messy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a beautiful and kind appearance, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms.

"Do you think we will also be sculpted one day? Oh, I'm not talking about the lucky black cat statue on the fourth floor."

Dumbledore said with a smile.

He seemed to like teasing people more than usual.

"I..."

Sean's words were interrupted before he could finish.

"I hope never, Sean; just let the statue on the fourth floor be your last statue."

After Dumbledore finished speaking, he took the young wizard and Apparated. ===== CHAPTER 812 =====