Chapter 678: Lions and Phoenixes
"Is it just an illusion of Godric's Hollow?" Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded pleasantly.
"So... Voldemort's last Horcrux has disappeared?" Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's right there," Dumbledore pointed in a direction, startling Harry as he saw a grotesque, crimson creature curled up in the bushes, looking terrifyingly infantile. "Voldemort's Killing Curse brought it here along with you. I arrived a step ahead and had a look around. Soon after, you arrived. Honestly, it was making quite a racket. Let's move on, shall we?"
With Dumbledore leading the way, they left the spot, and Harry promptly followed.
They walked along a country road, surrounded by lush green bushes and wildflowers growing unchecked but flourishing. Descending from a higher point, they had a clear view of the village's buildings. Harry became increasingly convinced that this was a conjured scene—the more modern houses he had seen when visiting Sirius's grave had all vanished.
Dumbledore pointed in a direction, and Harry was surprised to see it covered in a blanket of white light.
"What's that place?" he asked.
"You know," Dumbledore said with a smile, "you've seen it many times."
Harry couldn't make out what was in the white light, but he could guess the location roughly. His eyes widened. "Your house?""Correct. That's where we part ways," Dumbledore said solemnly.
"Part ways?"
"Oh—my apologies, Harry, but you'll have to go back alone. My time has come to an end, and I believe I must move on," Dumbledore said, looking thoughtfully towards the distant white light. Harry wondered if he saw something Harry couldn't.
"Your time has come to an end? You, Professor Dumbledore, you—"
"I'm glad you've finally realized. I'm dying, oh, probably already dead," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry's wide-eyed expression and smiling faintly. "Don't feel sorry for me, Harry. I chose this ending myself and brought it about step by step. My life has been long and eventful, especially the last year, which made up for many regrets."
They walked a bit further, and Harry's mind was in turmoil. He gathered his courage and asked, "Is it—because of me? To rid myself of the soul fragment?"
Dumbledore stopped, paused, and looked at Harry. "That's part of it, yes."
"I'd rather it were me," Harry murmured.
Dumbledore showed immense understanding and compassion. "Funny, I feel the same way. And—Harry, you're one of the reasons I chose this path. Even without you, I would have made the same decision, but if I could also resolve your issues in the process, it was all the more beneficial for me."
"But what about the school?" Harry said gloomily.
"Have you forgotten? I've submitted my resignation," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "Minerva and Felix will take care of the school. I believe they'll do a fine job."
"Speaking of Professor Harp—" Harry suddenly thought of another reason, "He believes wizardkind's exposure is inevitable. Sirius and Mrs. Bones also agree, and everyone is preparing for it."
"You're right," Dumbledore agreed.
"Only you can reassure everyone— I mean, when the news is out," Harry said frankly.
"I dare not claim such a reputation," Dumbledore shook his head. "In fact, facing that future, I am just as lost as you. Felix, Amelia, and even you would handle it better than I."
"Me?" Harry exclaimed in astonishment.
"Yes, indeed. Would you tolerate wizards mistreating Muggles?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry shook his head.
"In turn, would you let Muggles enslave wizards?"
Harry shook his head again.
"You see, isn't that wonderful?" Dumbledore said contentedly. "Remember your choices now, Harry. Though the path ahead may not be easy, you won't regret it, because you're doing the right thing."
Harry felt confused. He followed Dumbledore into the somewhat familiar village, where he noticed something 'unusual'.
"Aberforth," a plump middle-aged Muggle woman in an apron greeted them warmly. Harry thought she looked somewhat like Mrs. Weasley.
"Mrs. Brenda," Dumbledore stopped, smiling.
"Little Bart wanted to visit your house for dinner; he's so fond of magic," the woman said.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, the creases on his forehead smoothing out. "Ariana loves children; she's prepared quite a few activities for the bonfire tonight."
"Ah, I know. She's always so kind, but I feel like I'm troubling you..." Mrs. Brenda said, a bit embarrassed, pulling out two apples from under her apron and handing them to Dumbledore and Harry. "I baked some honey biscuits; Bart can bring them over tonight."
"You're too kind, Mrs. Brenda," Dumbledore said politely. They parted ways, and he and Harry continued walking.
Harry found it strange, but Dumbledore seemed to be in extremely high spirits, radiating overflowing joy. He took a bite of the apple and started humming some slightly amusing countryside tune. Along the way, many people greeted him as friends—both wizards and Muggles—but they all shared the knowledge of magic's existence without showing any surprise.
A wizard dressed like a hippie leaned against a wall, performing magic tricks for a group of children.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry finished a segment of a complete tune, putting down the half-eaten apple and eagerly asked, "Are these people also departed souls?" He remembered Dumbledore saying that this was a place between life and death, theoretically only accessible to wizards, right?
"I don't think so," Dumbledore said.
"Then—" Harry hesitated, was this all Dumbledore's imagination?
"When I first arrived here, it was all foggy, which clearly wasn't conducive to conversation. At the moment I entertained the thought of changing it, it automatically transformed like this," Dumbledore said. "It may indeed have something to do with me."
They chatted like old friends, and Dumbledore mentioned the prophecy he had heard from Grindelwald. "Skeeter played an important role."
Then he talked about Felix:
"I have high hopes for him—talented, not power-hungry, and with a clear mind. Of course, he's always been opinionated since he was young, sometimes I feel he's too mature. I can't educate him as I did with you—I can only rein him in with others, like you, Severus, Miss Granger, that Niffler, Sirius, Lems, Neville... The list is growing without my realizing it."
Later, Dumbledore mentioned the prophecy he heard in the Ministry's Department of Mysteries.
"I think I am the lion in the prophecy—glorious in the past but now aging. I am a Gryffindor."
"Why can't it be a phoenix?" Harry held his breath and asked, "Phoenixes are immortal, aren't they? And you have Fawkes. Perhaps the prophecy implies you will, like a phoenix, rise from the ashes and be reborn..."
Dumbledore laughed.
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