Godric's Hollow.

Two figures, one old and one young, walked here.

"What shall I call you, John or ...... Joel?"

Like an old friend he hadn't seen in years, Dumbledore had set foot in this painful place again.

He should have been relieved, but John kept him at ease.

"It's your choice," John said lightly as he walked into the cemetery where the trio had ventured, "and use your favorite destiny to find the name you need."

"Dumbledore, what you ran away with, that made you feel guilty."

The blooming white flowers had covered the entire tombstone, and John slowly crouched down and brushed it away with his hands.

The wreath under the tombstone has grown a whole piece.

"How long have you not been back?"

Hearing this, Dumbledore's eyes were in a trance, and he muttered, "For a long time."

"You should have found out, and your escape has made you lose again."

John's eyes were gentle, and he stood up again, and he held out his left hand.

The enclosed dirt is separated.

The coffin was held up by white flowers and slowly ascended.

"I don't understand," Dumbledore's eyes didn't take his eyes off for a moment until the white coffin was raised, "why are you doing this?"

"How?"

Dumbledore had a mixed expression, but after John told him about the equivalent exchange, he knew he couldn't refuse.

Even, he was willing to plead, plead with the boy who broke the taboo.

Under this coffin, buried the guilt of Dumbledore's life.

One of his evasions from his heart, and the other evasion of responsibility.

Let his beloved sleep forever.

He had no way of knowing who was responsible for the accident.

But his heart was no longer complete.

The saint Dumbledore, the world-loving Dumbledore, was never a good brother.

"How?"

Hearing this, John shook his head and smiled.

"Dumbledore, magic has a price to pay just as much as alchemy."

He looked Dumbledore in the eye and said expressionlessly, "Are you wondering, what kind of magic did that Slytherin use to break the taboo?"

"Yes, that's what I thought," Dumbledore sighed and said honestly, "You've never surprised me, and you've never been able to see through my thoughts."

When John saw him admit it, he said in a voice that was so indifferent that he said, "My soul, great Dumbledore."

"Souls?"

"Yes, soul." John ran his finger across his heart and grinned, "There's a piece missing here."

"If you've read 'Secret Dark Arts at the Cutting Edges), you should understand that the formation of Horcruxes requires the sacrifice of the soul."

"Even if it's me, it's not easy to resurrect a dead person."

"But Voldemort reminded me that a way to destroy a body and still keep people alive."

In Dumbledore's vibrating 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 and thunder.

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, the eyes that are willing to be me." John said, "In exchange for equal value, I made a deal with her."

"...... Now"

The coffin slowly opened.

The girl in the mood for love inside has become a skeleton.

However, the pure and flawless white flower still exists.

John held up the flower and whispered, "Irony, this purest flower, watered with the most evil black magic."

"No," Dumbledore said, shaking his head, guilty, "that flower is pure and unblemished."

Voluntary sacrifice.

John, who was the most proficient in soul magic, knew best the disadvantages of soul defects, but his approach was different from Voldemort's, who also made Horcruxes.

Voldemort took the lives of others in order to make Horcruxes.

And he chose to separate his soul and used his soul to make a Horcrux for Ariana.

"Do you remember that spell from Tom?" John said to himself, "The blood of the enemy, the bones of the father, and the flesh of the servant."

"But Ariana, she's different."

"She doesn't hold a grudge against anyone."

"At the time of death, what she did was to love you and ......

"Kill her, brothers."

John took out a gold scale from his handbag and put it down.

"Then change the magic."

He looked up at Dumbledore, already in tears, and held out his hand.

A tear stuck to Dumbledore's beard flew into John's hand.

Tears fall on one end of the golden scale, allowing it to tilt.

"Guilt."

A moving portrait forcibly taken from the Pig's Head Tavern.

"Regret."

John pointed to his head and slowly pulled out a silver-white memory.

"Attachment."

Three things were placed on the scales, and John put the white flowers on the other side.

There was a magical scene on the originally tilted scale.

The weight of a flower began to shake more than the other side where the three things were placed.

John watched in silence until the scales stopped swaying and the sides balanced.

Taking out the scepter, which represented the resurrection, John held it up, emitting an ancient obscure note.

The golden scepter gradually melted, and a gold-like liquid flowed into the coffin.

A magical scene happened.

The dry bones melt quickly and merge with the scepter.

John took out a bottle and opened it, scattering the dirt inside into the coffin.

"The land of the newborn homeland."

And he plucked one of the white flowers that was round the tomb, and threw it in.

"The Flower of the Last Abode."

A body indistinguishable from Ariana appears in the coffin.

This was the spell and preparation used by the despicable Helpo to resurrect him, but it was cheaper than John.

It also saves him from finding another way.

"And finally," John looked at Ariana's body, picked up the Horcrux white flower, and blew softly, "Soul."

The white flowers turned into petals and flew towards Ariana.

After a long silence.

The girl's eyelashes fluttered slightly.

In the light of the twilight, the girl opened her eyes as blue as the sky.

The long years passed.

Nearly a century of regret.

The greatest wizards also have trouble suppressing their emotions.

Dumbledore's body trembled, his old eyes covered with tears, and he couldn't see the girl's expression clearly.

But he knew that his sister was back.

The regrets and guilt of a century ago are all pouring out at this moment.

He was like an old scoundrel, howling and crying.

After loving the world for so long, Dumbledore finally let loose for his family.

Ariana, who had woken up again, looked at the old man strangely.

Suddenly, she saw the boy.

As before, she held out her hand.

John was stunned and handed his wand to grab it.

"Good afternoon, Ariana."

Ariana seemed to have changed, and she mustered up the courage to say, "Afternoon, Joel."

The orange light of dusk hit the side of John's face.

"Need to get acquainted again," John smiled and held out his hand, "Hello, Ariana, John Wick

。」

Ariana, her life ends at the age of six, and her life ends at the age of fourteen.

At the age of 112, she was given a new lease on life.

John looked back, and saw the purple and blue in his eyes.

It was as if in that safe house where there was nothing, and the two of them snuggled up and leaned on each other.

Nagini let go of Credence's hand and ran to John, taking him into his arms.

"What a ...... O meek king."

Nagini's tears fell on John's shoulders.

The voice was full of distress, "Are you tired, my king?"

Three times the hour flashes, the king who counts everything.

Lean into my arms and take a light nap.

You're so tired.

"That's a bit of a stretch."

John smiled.

Being reminded of this, John felt the boundless heaviness coming over him.

John didn't have a sister.

In Nagini, he felt a kind of care that was different from that of a mother's love.

Anything can be put down.

Sleep peacefully.

Dumbledore?

Whatever, it's none of my business that the old scoundrel is rolling around there.

His gaze crossed Nagini and landed on Credence.

In a tone familiar to Creddons, he said, "Credence, I think I'm late."

"Maybe I should call you Dumbledore."

"Haha, three Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore and Dumbledore, it's hard to tell the difference......

He muttered, his eyes already closed, leaning into Nagini's arms.

Credence slowly knelt down on one knee and said to the whispering king, "Yes, I have found my ......."

"My king, please let me follow, this time, I am strong enough."

He lowered his head, which had not bowed by Grindelwald's side, in the twilight of the setting sun.

Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore.

A relief that makes up for regrets, a piety that finds a home, and a dependence after being reborn.

...