nyslfriends Chapter 87, Section 86: That Year, That Night, That Truth
Chapter 87, Section 86: That Year, That Night, That Truth
7 PM.
Outside the Hogwarts Headmaster's office, the ugly stone statues were different from those elsewhere. It was Ian's first time here, and he softly uttered the password that Dumbledore had told him.
"Jelly Slug".
As the sound faded.
The stone statue tilted its head to make way, and Ian slowly walked up the spiral staircase, climbing all the way until he saw the solemn wooden door with a brass handle.
There's no need to twist it.
Ian simply knocked lightly on the wooden door, and the door knocker seemed to come alive, flapping its little wings as if it were struggling to open the door. So the wooden door opened slowly and silently.
The ever-burning candles cast a gentle glow, revealing Hogwarts' most solemn hall to Ian, with rows of bookshelves standing out prominently in the spacious room.
Since Dumbledore didn't seem to have any intention of holding anyone accountable, Ian wasn't particularly nervous, after all, he was the victim who had been beaten up by the mob.
He looked around the room with great interest.
Ian saw that the walls were covered with portraits of the former principals, each one of them lifelike, and the principals' gazes were almost all fixed on him.
"Has another little wizard caused trouble at school?"
"It's that little guy, I remember him, he's the little boy Dumbledore couldn't forget."
"Shut up! You big-mouthed jerk!"
After a brief commotion, the portraits fell silent and stopped moving, pretending to be frozen in a smile on the wall, though their eyes still followed Ian's every step.
Poisonous Magic
"Evil Tome"
Blood Oath Contract
Unveiling the Secrets of Cutting-Edge Black Magic
Besides books like "Breaking Up with a Female Ghost," "Traveling with a Ghoul," and "Vacating with a Mother Yaksha," the bookshelf also contains many items that could be considered banned books.
They stood there quietly on the bookshelf, just like any other books, arranged alphabetically, as if they weren't worried at all about what trouble would ensue if someone stole one.
"After all, so many principals are watching."
Ian looked at the portraits on the wall that seemed to be playing "Red Light, Green Light" with him. Whenever his gaze fell on them, the principals would mimic the still images.
"Hello, Sorting Hat. I heard you complained about me to Professor Snape." Ian looked around the office for a moment, then looked at the Sorting Hat, who had been pretending to be asleep ever since he entered the office.
"Whoosh whoosh~"
Its snoring grew louder.
No matter how much Ian picked it up and turned it over, the Sorting Hat was like a sleeping beauty that couldn't be woken up, showing no intention of responding to Ian's questions at all.
"Am I not brave enough?"
Ian tried to pull the Gryffindor sword out of the Sorting Hat, but only managed to pry out a piece of dandruff left over from some unknown junior wizard.
It's about the size of my little finger, quite exaggerated.
"Nausea!"
He shook his hands with a hint of disgust, then rushed to the handwashing area to wash them for a while. When he returned to the main hall,
Dumbledore, who had told him to wait in the office, still hadn't returned.
The Sorting Hat continues to pretend to be asleep.
"If I ever end up with a receding hairline, it'll definitely be because I wore you! If that happens, I'll take you on a voyage no matter what!" Ian didn't care whether the Sorting Hat was really asleep or not. He grabbed it, used Transfiguration to turn a rock into a brush, and started washing the Sorting Hat in the sink.
"The next generation of young wizards will thank me." Every time Ian brushed the Sorting Hat, he would mutter a "merit +1" to himself.
Apply soap.
Brush brush.
Apply soap.
Keep swiping, swipe, swipe.
at last.
After being manually cleaned, the Sorting Cap could no longer hold its head high.
"I should have sorted you into Gryffindor!" The heart-wrenching voice fell, and a gleaming longsword fell out of the Sorting Hat's hood.
This sword is a relic from an ancient era. Its blade shines with a dazzling golden light, as if it contains the power and courage of the sun. Each of the brilliant rubies inlaid on it is like a burning flame.
Intensely hot.
Yet it is still magnificent.
"Nonsense! I'm a true Ravenclaw. Smell this; thankfully I haven't washed my robes yet. Can't you smell a scent of approval on them?"
Ian retorted indignantly and picked up the sword from the ground.
The sword of Gryffindor possesses the unique ability to choose its wielder; most of the time, it only heeds the call of those who possess true courage, a noble heart, and a determination to fight for justice.
"You impudent brat, I have no sense of smell, put me back right now!" The Sorting Hat seemed to be very resistant to water, but it had already been washed clean.
Old but no longer relevant.
"Now we have two approvals!" Ian hung the Gryffindor sword on his waist, dried the Sorting Hat, and put the very unhappy Sorting Hat back in its place.
"The protective armor I've praised for a thousand years—"
The Sorting Hat's wrinkled face was filled with a look of utter despair. The portraits on the wall were all trying to suppress their laughter, and one of them couldn't help but let out a soft "pfft."
Ian whirled around, trying to catch them red-handed, but the portraits on the wall reacted faster than anyone else; he only saw Dumbledore's figure appear at the front door.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, you really do walk without making a sound." Ian's expression was strange. He had been startled by Dumbledore before, but he hadn't expected that he still couldn't prevent Dumbledore from sneaking up on him.
"It seems you're having a lot of fun with the Sorting Hat." Dumbledore said with a gentle smile, his gaze fixed on the long sword at Ian's waist.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, you have also noticed my courage, loyalty, kindness, love of peace, and fearlessness."
Has upholding justice and the virtue of trustworthiness been proven?
Ian lifted his robe to reveal the Gryffindor sword.
Dumbledore remained silent for a long while before speaking.
"While it's not entirely unexpected, Mr. Prince, I'm afraid you'll need to leave this sword with me for a while longer. There are some things I need it to do—I apologize."
That's a very sincere statement.
Ian did not feel disappointed.
He himself didn't have much swordsmanship.
"Just let me take it for a walk around Gryffindor. I don't mean anything by it; I just want them to know that I am courageous, loyal, kind, and peace-loving—"
Ian was trying to cover it up.
But he hadn't finished speaking.
"Clang!"
The phoenix's cry interrupted Ian's idea of a remote coronation from the office window that seemed to always be open. The phoenix, Fox, which had shrunk considerably, suddenly flew towards Ian again.
Not surprisingly.
Fox landed on Ian's little head again. Ian was getting used to it; he took out the freeze-dried food he hadn't been able to feed to Professor McGonagall in her cat form from his pocket.
"Clang!"
Fox showed no interest in eating it, and its cries sounded almost like it was cursing. Ian held the freeze-dried food to his nose, but he didn't smell anything strange.
Just at this time.
"Dumbledore! Look what he's done to me! Quick! Send this brat to Azkaban! I have connections there!"
The Sorting Hat suddenly began hysterically complaining to Dumbledore.
"A different look looks pretty good too." Dumbledore chuckled as he commented on the Sorting Hat's new appearance, leaving the Sorting Hat somewhat stunned.
"Is that so?"
Its sound was much quieter.
"But it's my protective armor."
Although the Sorting Hat seemed to have been appeased, it still felt a little reluctant to part with it.
After all, it's the accumulation of thousands of years.
"Pah! Pah!"
Ian rushed to the trash can and vomited several times, then stood with the Phoenix Fox, as steady as a mountain, above his head.
He walked back and held up the freeze-dried fruit in his hand.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, would you like to try some snacks?"
His voice seemed to yearn to share.
However, Dumbledore was clearly not yet senile.
"I still prefer eating a pile of cockroaches." Dumbledore decisively refused the freeze-dried food in Ian's hand, walked to his desk, and pulled out a bunch of brown candies to retaliate against Ian.
"Would you like some?"
The brown things in his hand could be candies shaped like cockroaches, or they could be real cockroaches disguised as candies. Ian felt disgusted no matter whether he won or lost the bet.
"No, thank you."
Ian put the freeze-dried food back into his robe. It had gone bad, but he didn't intend to waste it. Next year, he could feed it to Little Starpatch, who eats everything.
When mice are not full.
Little Starpick probably wouldn't mind eating some fermented foods.
"How about some other snacks?"
Dumbledore stuffed the pile of cockroaches into his mouth, and like a hospitable old man, he gestured for Ian to sit opposite him with his hands still covered in candy.
"Is steak okay?"
Ian didn't eat much that night, since Marcus Flint kept staring at him, which significantly slowed down his competition for meat with his two roommates and other young wizards.
"Can't it be dessert? I think I only have desserts here."
Dumbledore looked troubled.
Ian pondered for a moment.
"Then I'll have a honey steak."
He made a concession.
This was the second time today that Dumbledore had been speechless. He stared at the young wizard before him for a long while.
Then he clapped his hands at empty air.
A glass of honey water appeared in front of Ian.
They mostly come from those house-elves who usually hide their forms.
Ian looked somewhat disappointed.
"I still have some steak left in my stomach that hasn't been digested." This could be considered a form of psychological comfort. After drinking the honey water, Ian ate the honey steak in a different way.
Dumbledore stared, somewhat stunned.
"Alright, Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm ready to debate with you." Ian finished all the honey water in one gulp, then sat up straight and waited for Dumbledore's lecture.
"Mr. Prince, there is no need for any debate between us. After all, I know very well that you have maintained sufficient restraint in this conflict, which is commendable." Dumbledore's eyes were like two unfathomable pools, and his gentle yet powerful voice carried an indescribable emotion.
"It's bullying! A group of them bullied me!"
Ian, filled with righteous indignation, corrected Dumbledore's choice of words.
"Yes, that's right. I just happened to be passing by and witnessed this very unfortunate thing happening—I think Severus should be able to educate his students. I've already sent the terrified little wizards to him." Dumbledore nodded without refuting, but instead offered reassurance in line with Ian's words.
"I was the one who was terrified. Look, my stomach has gotten so thin from the shock," Ian sighed, patting his still-shaken belly.
Dumbledore's expression changed slightly, and he looked rather helpless. "As I said, Mr. Prince, I believe I witnessed the entire process without missing anything."
He emphasized the pronunciation of "the whole process".
"I just want some compensation."
Ian Shan smiled, his lingering hope gone, and his speech became more honest. Fox, perched on his head, seemed to have built a nest on it.
"Actually, there are two reasons why I didn't intervene. First, I wanted to see how you would handle this kind of thing. Second, it's because you defined this conflict as a duel from the start."
Dumbledore seemed very candid, not hiding his own selfish motives. His voice was neither hurried nor drawn out, but gentle yet powerful: "A duel is a sacred thing, a ritual of honor. Even I can only stand by and ensure that none of you will be harmed because of it."
"Of course, your performance did not disappoint me. A lesson that leaves a lasting impression without actually harming anyone—such self-control is rarely seen in wizards who wield power."
"Especially that last, brilliantly brilliant illumination spell; even I almost didn't react in time—"
Yes, this unique concept is incredibly realistic.
Dumbledore's tone became somewhat strange.
Ian pretended not to hear.
"My original intention was to guide people towards good and make them realize their mistakes. If they could compensate me, it might prove that there is still hope for them."
Ian still hasn't given up on getting compensation for himself.
His choice of words to address Dumbledore again left him silent for a long time.
"I think the Slytherin gentlemen and ladies are certainly aware of how inappropriate their behavior was, but it will obviously not be easy for you to get compensation from them."
Dumbledore spoke tactfully.
"Is it because Marcus Flint's family has a lot of connections in the Ministry of Magic?" Ian had always remembered that Marcus Flint had brought this up many times during the two conflicts.
This guy is even more of a classic example than Malfoy before he even enrolled.
"It's because Slytherin wizards are proud and find it hard to bow their heads to others." Dumbledore's answer was completely unconvincing and could probably only fool the naive young wizards.
Ian knew all too well how quickly these pure-blood Slytherin wizards would kneel before Voldemort.
Ok.
They did not back down.
They immediately kowtowed.
"As expected, it's because Marcus Flint's family is backing them up. That's how these so-called ancient families are; they never admit their mistakes, even when they've made them."
Ian sighed.
Dumbledore nodded noncommittally.
"In fact, Severus will definitely need to put in some effort to calm things down for you, mainly because the pressure comes from the families of those young wizards."
17
"Mr. Flint's relatives certainly have a lot of connections in the Ministry of Magic, after all, the Flint family has a long and distinguished history."
Other pure-blood wizard families also possess some power or influence.
"Mr. Prince, you are more mature than many young wizards. You must be able to see that right and wrong are not important in the eyes of a certain type of adult wizard."
Dumbledore seemed to be reminding Ian not to go after those Slytherin students anymore.
"You're right."
Ian nodded helplessly.
He touched the Gryffindor sword, which he could only hold in his arms because he was sitting down. He wished that this sword had once been given the meaning of acting first and asking questions later.
pity.
No.
"It looks like I'm not only not going to get any compensation, but I also have to pray that I don't get swarmed by flies. Uncle Professor Snape must be worried sick about me."
Ian felt a little annoyed.
He clearly just wanted to study hard and improve himself every day, so how did he end up in such a mess? Everything seemed to have gone out of control from the moment Marcus Flint was hit with the Imperius Curse.
"Don't be fooled by Severus's snarling attitude towards you. He's actually quite happy to do these things for you, as it helps him find some peace of mind."
Dumbledore spoke softly.
"Self-forgiveness?"
Ian frowned.
"That's something he should tell you, if he's ready," Dumbledore said in a low voice, his tone carrying a hint of meaning.
good good!
You're a riddle teller, aren't you?
Let's all be riddle solvers!
Nobody be in a hurry!
"Alright, I understand. Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore. I think if there's nothing else, I should head back and prepare for tomorrow's lessons."
Ian knew very well that Dumbledore had summoned him to his office not just to praise him for doing the right thing; the headmaster of Hogwarts probably wasn't that idle.
Especially at a time when the Ministry of Magic has already intervened in the investigation of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's death. You see,
Penelope has already told Ian that she had spoken with Dumbledore.
With Old Deng's brains.
It seems the other party has already guessed something.
of course.
What confirmed Ian's suspicions was that when he entered the headmaster's office, he saw a bookshelf that looked recently moved in, filled with many extremely old and worn books that didn't actually belong to the category of magical arts or techniques. These included titles like "Song of the Soul" and "Merlin's Legend: The Crack Between Life and Death."
Good night, Headmaster Dumbledore.
Ian reluctantly took the Fox off his head and put it back on the gilded perch where the Fox should have been. He waved his hand and prepared to run towards the office door.
"Mr. Prince!"
as predicted.
Dumbledore immediately became restless.
"Huh?"
Ian turned around, looking somewhat bewildered.
"The Gryffindor Sword".
Dumbledore looked helplessly at the things Ian was holding in his hands.
"Oh, I almost forgot, sorry." Ian scratched his head, looking quite embarrassed, and walked over to the Sorting Hat, grabbed it, and stuffed it into the hood.
"Slow down! Slow down! Ah! I get it! I get it! Not Slytherin, not Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor, I should sort you into the Dementors' lair!"
"This is murder! Dumbledore, look! He's stabbing me with his sword!" the Sorting Hat screamed, taking in the Gryffindor sword, its tone sounding rather aggrieved.
It looked like Ian was about to leave again.
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand to stop him.
"Mr. Prince, didn't you want compensation?" Dumbledore's eyes flickered behind his glasses, and for some reason, he suddenly brought up this already concluded topic again.
"Right now, I just hope those pure-blooded nobles won't bother me. Maybe one of those guys today is a child from the school board, and they can use their connections to force me to drop out on the spot?"
Ian asked a probing question.
But Dumbledore slowly shook his head.
"Of course I cannot agree to that. As long as I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, the board of trustees cannot interfere with my decisions. This is something we agreed on from the beginning."
Dumbledore explained his stance.
immediately.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking, "It might be a little inappropriate to say this, but I still want to ask that you accompany me on a trip tonight."
talking.
Dumbledore stood up.
With a somber expression, he reached out his hand to Ian.
"Mr. Prince, after this trip, I guarantee you will no longer need to worry about the pressure from the pure-blood families, and you will also receive the apology and compensation you want from them."
"If you want to study with peace of mind, you can study with peace of mind."
Reasons that are hard to refuse.
Ian had no choice but to force a smile and turn back to walk away.
"My pleasure."
His tone carried a hint of reluctance, but Ian still raised his hand and grasped it. Moment by moment, the world spun around him, and Ian seemed to hear the sound of a clock or the turning of pages in a book.
The surrounding scenery was shaking.
soon.
The unfamiliar setting replaced the Hogwarts headmaster's office. It was a valley with gentle sunshine and meadows, and a town that Ian remembered very well.
"What kind of magic is this? Apparition? This is different from the previous experience!" Ian stared blankly at the small town he had only seen in the hazy illusion not far away.
"This is just a memory."
Dumbledore gazed at the distant town, a complex expression on his face.
"memory?"
Ian was stunned by the incredibly realistic, immersive experience. He could even smell the fragrance of the grass on the ground and touch the butterflies fluttering around him. The trees were lush, and the green leaves rustled in the breeze. Everything felt so real, without any sense of fantasy or illusion.
"It's a rather complex application of memory magic, and I may have indeed delved too deeply into this area—." Dumbledore's tone also began to wane.
"Godrick Valley," Ian suddenly spoke.
Dumbledore's eyes immediately lit up, even though his expression had been gloomy.
"Ian, please allow me to address you as such—you—can you lead the way for me?" Dumbledore, who had dominated his entire life, now appeared extremely cautious.
Ian turned to look at the old man beside him, who was bewildered, timid, and weak—all the emotions that shouldn't be present in Dumbledore seemed so easily perceived at this moment.
This was the first time Ian had ever sensed Dumbledore's thoughts and ideas being so clear.
"My pleasure."
The answer was the same as always.
Ian roughly understood where the end of the memory led, and he was also curious about what kind of person Ariana was in Dumbledore's memory.
I walked onto the path through the grass.
Ian is in front.
Dumbledore was behind.
He seemed to need someone to pave the way for him, to give him the courage to embark on this journey home from his memories.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell on the two people.
The old post office, the bar in the breeze, the church with its pointed roof—all these are what Ian remembers. The only difference is that this town has many more passersby along the way.
"Is this thing edible?"
Ian saw a vendor selling pancakes and curiously approached him, only to find that he couldn't interact with the vendor or eat the pancakes that were clearly hot to the touch.
The pancake was in my mouth.
However, it cannot be chewed to taste anything, nor can it actually be swallowed.
"These are just my memories, Ian." Dumbledore, seeing Ian relentlessly stealing food from many passersby, couldn't help but speak up and remind him.
Ian was finally completely disillusioned.
He walked ahead again, leading Dumbledore through the town, finally stopping in front of a house on the edge of town. The house was unmarked and exactly the same as the one Ian remembered.
"I met her here. Although she's the only one in town, the fruit she grows there is really edible." Ian was still a little concerned about the pancakes.
just.
Dumbledore, however, was already trembling and had lowered his head.
"We've already arrived here."
Ian felt an overwhelming sadness, pain, and a desire to escape. He realized that this memory might be the day Ariana died.
"You don't need to force yourself."
Ian ultimately suppressed his curiosity about their whereabouts and whispered a reminder, after all, he had already honestly given the principal what he might want to verify.
"I have long recognized your specialness, so this is not for me, Ian." Dumbledore took a deep breath and looked up.
The image of the house was reflected in his glasses, obscuring the colors in his eyes. "This is perhaps the only lesson I can teach you."
The words fell.
The headmaster, seemingly unable to muster the courage to enter the house, only felt a sudden change in the surrounding scenery before he and Dumbledore found themselves inside.
The three were arguing, and one of them was a boy with blue eyes and a full head of blond hair, exuding an arrogant and unruly air. Ian felt that the other person was probably the man.
as predicted.
"That's Aurora's grandfather, Gellert Grindelwald. I think you've already looked up information about him." Dumbledore's eyes were filled with complexity.
In this scene, there is him, his brother, his old friend—and his deceased relatives.
"Me, and my brother Aberforth." Dumbledore then introduced the people arguing one by one. He and his brother, both red-haired, were handsome.
The younger Aberforth was thinner than the younger Albus. Both had full heads of red hair, and although their appearances were similar, there were subtle differences.
Ian's gaze finally fell on the little girl huddled in the corner of the room, looking flustered and helpless. She wanted to step forward to mediate the fight but was intimidated by the atmosphere.
They were in their teens.
The mind of a seven or eight-year-old.
It's perfectly normal to feel timid in such a situation.
"Ariana."
Ian whispered.
Dumbledore had closed his eyes, tears welling up in the corners.
"We've always kept her at home. She had a bad experience as a child, which made her hate her own magic. She became a silent one because of our negligence."
The old principal's voice trembled violently.
"The Silent Ones? I remember reading about them in a book at the library—little wizards who always suppressed their magic."
It is possible that a parasitic force called the Obscurant can form within the body.
"Those who become Obscurials generally do not live past the age of ten. Obscurials will perish together with their hosts. In extreme cases, Obscurials may also be assimilated into a type of Obscurial."
Ian realized what terrible thing had happened to Ariana.
"It could have been solved—it definitely could have—I could have done it—" Dumbledore murmured painfully, turning his gaze away from his regretful eyes.
"Is it because of a silent eruption?"
Ian guessed that this was the cause of Ariana's death.
"Keep watching."
Dumbledore responded in a low voice.
In the scene.
The three of them were arguing fiercely.
"Your plan is insane and horrific. Ariana needs a quiet environment, not the clamor of war. I will absolutely not allow you to drag her into this mess!"
The emaciated Aberforth was berating his brother, "Aberforth, do you want to hurt our sister again? You're absolutely insane!"
His scathing rebuke.
This left the young Albus Dumbledore looking conflicted and struggling. However, at this moment, the blond Gellert Grindelwald stepped forward and shoved aside the imposing Aberforth.
"Cowards! Your sister was harmed by Muggles, which is why she's in this state. Shouldn't the Muggles be held responsible for her tragic fate of not living to adulthood?"
"Only if we can change the world and make those Muggles behave themselves can we prevent such tragedies from happening, and only then can we bring the Muggles who harm wizards to trial!"
Gellert Grindelwald was very emotional.
"Your foolish brain can't grasp the problem! Running away? That will only lead to our destruction. Your brother and I have the power to change the living conditions of all wizards!"
"The world will be at peace!" Gellert Grindelwald said, turning to the young Dumbledore. His voice was firm and highly persuasive.
"Albus, for us, for the future of wizards, and for the revenge for your sister!" Gellert Grindelwald's words gradually strengthened Dumbledore's wavering gaze.
"We have to do it! Someone has to start!"
He spoke in a low voice to his younger brother, Aberforth.
"Are you going to abandon us? Abandon me, abandon Ariana, abandon our home, and then go crazy with this student Durmstrang expelled?"
Aberforth looked utterly incredulous.
It was shocking.
It also carried an barely suppressed anger.
"We will win."
The young Dumbledore responded in this way, just as he now, in his old age, the young man in the scene of his memory, dared not turn his head to look at his sister in the corner at this moment.
"You shameless, insidious liar! You madman! You bewitched my brother! Get out of my house right now, and go back to where you came from!"
Aberforth drew his wand in an attempt to threaten him.
Gellert Grindelwald looked on with disdain.
"Aberforth, calm down!" The young Dumbledore tried to persuade Aberforth, but his eyes were already red.
He had lost his mind, convinced that Gellert Grindelwald was a family destroyer.
"Crushed to pieces!"
Aberforth unleashed a terrible curse on Gellert Grindelwald, but Gellert Grindelwald, who was prepared, simply raised his hand to block Aberforth's attack.
Between the two brothers.
Although Aberforth possessed abilities far exceeding those of his peers, he was clearly much weaker than Albus and Gellert Grindelwald; the best are facing those who stand at the summit.
"Extremely piercing!"
Gellert Grindelwald retaliated without hesitation, swiftly and with a tricky angle, knocking Aberforth to the ground, where he convulsed in agony.
"Damn it! Gellert, stop right now, this is my brother!" Young Bridal was also in a hurry, drew his wand and cast a spell directly at Gellert Grindelwald.
This interrupted Gellert Grindelwald's continued spellcasting.
"He clearly can't see the future clearly, and he doesn't know what we wizards should do. Such a person is a despicable stumbling block on our road to success!"
Gellert Grindelwald looked displeased, but stopped casting the spell. Unexpectedly, after being rescued by the young Dumbledore, Aberforth attempted to ambush him again.
"Intestines prolapsed!"
It is an extremely vicious curse.
This directly angered Gellert Grindelwald, who dodged to the side.
"You're asking for it!"
He clearly intended to kill him.
"Calm down, Gellert!"
Young Dumbledore was very nervous, fearing that his brother would be killed by Gellert Grindelwald, but Gellert Grindelwald clearly no longer wanted to listen to his advice.
Melee.
It happened at this moment.
Screams and roars filled the room.
"No—stop hitting me—please!" Ariana, huddled in the corner, was filled with terror, and black mist was constantly emanating from her body.
however.
None of the three noticed.
"Ian, this lesson is very important for you." The elderly Dumbledore spoke with a trembling voice, suppressing his surging grief. His voice, filled with deep regret, had barely fallen.
A terrible spell was blocked by the Ironclad Curse.
The direction has shifted.
Ariana, whose Obscurus had already taken effect, slowly collapsed to the ground under Ian's horrified gaze. Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes quickly lost all color.
Aberforth immediately lunged at Ariana, Gellert Grindelwald turned pale, and the young Albus Dumbledore stood there dumbfounded, wand in hand.
"this!?"
Incredulous, Ian looked sharply at the fading memory of the chaotic battle, the direction from which the spell was cast was precisely where the young Dumbledore was standing.
In an instant.
Ian was overwhelmed with emotions.
It's hard to calm down.
"Some things, there is no chance to regret." The memory did not completely disappear, and the scene did not return to the office, but turned into a meadow in a valley with a gentle breeze.
The river in the valley is crystal clear, flowing like a silver ribbon through the verdant valley.
The sunlight gently pierced through the thin mist, caressing a solitary tombstone.
Where the treasure lies, so too does the heart.
Ian saw the inscription on the tombstone, and the elderly Headmaster Dumbledore beside him seemed to only dare to squat down and gently touch his sister's name on the tombstone at this moment.
"Did you accidentally kill Ariana?"
Ian spoke after a long silence.
"Haven't you already seen it?"
The principal gave a bitter laugh, his voice filled with sorrow and pain.
Ian's eyes flickered slightly as he silently gazed at the old man before him, who seemed to have aged suddenly. For the first time, he felt the greatness that people had bestowed upon Dumbledore.
"Thank you for teaching me this lesson."
Ian bowed slightly.
"My uncle said I was a natural Legilimency Seeker, which may be a bit far from the truth, but I think I'm pretty good at capturing other people's emotions and thoughts."
"So, your attempt to cover it up today—wasn't very good."
He hadn't finished speaking.
Dumbledore suddenly looked up, his eyes revealing a hint of panic.
"Stop talking, child, memories don't lie!" His trembling voice was even more intense and forceful than before, and his face was already covered in tears.
"What I see is just a memory, not the truth."
Ian's eyes shimmered with a light.
"Your Legilimency is indeed far more powerful than that of an old friend of mine. Sometimes, it can indeed allow you to see secrets that shouldn't be spoken."
"Very powerful, but also very dangerous."
.
Dumbledore stood up shakily, took one last deep look at the tombstone in his memory, and the surrounding scene began to blur and the world began to spin.
"I hope this secret will remain buried in your heart forever."
In Ian's ear.
Then Dumbledore's pleading voice rang out.
On that day.
He lost his sister.
We can't lose our only younger brother.