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"Walk with me?"
Dumbledore said with a smile.
Sean nodded. The house in front of him had been reduced to a charred black frame, radiating waves of scorching heat.
With a very subtle wave of his wand, Professor Quirrell unobtrusively buried a ring that hadn't been completely incinerated.
He gave Sean a covert look. The young wizard lifted a finger, and the battered ring was quietly stowed away into the Book of Wizards.
Next, Sean would have to figure out a way to break Voldemort's curse.
"Thank you, Professor."
Sean said to Quirrell.
"Ah, ah... not at all, Mr. Green, I didn't help much..."
Quirrell stammered.
"You faced Voldemort directly, and you defeated him."
Sean said.
"No, no... yes... yes, I destroyed a part of him, just a part..."
Quirrell's knuckles were white as he gripped his wand.
"The fact is, you did it, Professor. Someone told me that what matters is to keep fighting, fighting, and fighting again. Only then can evil be kept at bay, even if it can never be completely eradicated..."
Sean spoke slowly, his gaze fixed on the quiet night and the ground where the ring had just been buried.
Something dark, viscous, and blood-like was seeping out of the ground.
It was a part of the ring, split into fragments.
When it cracked, all three of them heard that terrible, agonized scream. It turned out it didn't just come from that cloud of black mist, but also from the thing that had just shattered.
Quirrell stood there in a daze, staring at that eerie patch of ground.
"Your will is Quirrell's will."
He finally said.
Not far away, Dumbledore watched their conversation with a beaming smile.
He wasn't rushed or impatient; in fact, he looked quite interested.
It wasn't until Quirrell Apparated away and Pukwudgie the butler entered the Book of Wizards that Dumbledore tapped his knuckles and lit his wand.
"Let's go, my dear Mr. Green."
Dumbledore raised his wand, the soft halo of light outlining his tall silhouette.
A northwest wind had been blowing through Little Hangleton for two days straight, and even the dogs in this small village could barely be heard barking.
The sky was an endless expanse of leaden gray, with only a patch of yellowish halo on the far eastern horizon—weak yet stubborn, seemingly trying to slowly melt through that leaden canopy.
Seven or eight squat houses were scattered about, crouched on the ground like beetles.
Stacks of new straw looked like withered wild mushrooms; near them, and slightly further away by the river, the scent of earth carried the promise of spring.
"You must know the story of the Three Brothers. Beedle made it very clear that the second brother's lost love was not truly resurrected. She was sent by Death to lure the second brother into Death's clutches. That's why she was cold, distant, detached, and frustrating."
Sean spoke slowly in the indistinct darkness before dawn arrived.
"Do you think I should have realized that?"
Dumbledore said.
"I don't know."
Sean thought for a moment.
"I don't know either, child. Those without hope can only endure life... You did very well. I know the future promised by some is a sweet lie, but look, I am willing to be fooled one more time."
Dumbledore's gaze was profound, his robes fluttering in the pre-dawn breeze.
"The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, the Invisibility Cloak. They might be useful. I once sought them at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. Now I don't know how much I've grown.
"But I have figured out one thing. I can never be the true Master of Death, because the true conqueror never tries to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying.
"Humans do have a knack for choosing precisely those things that are worst for them. Even I, Albus Dumbledore, find the Invisibility Cloak the easiest to reject. Which just goes to show that, clever as I am, I remain just as big a fool as anyone else."
Dumbledore and Sean stepped over a haystack together.
They also found a snake there, frozen stiff before spring could arrive.
"You are not a fool."
Sean said.
"I'm glad you acknowledge that. However, today I was guarded against like a fool by my dear student. It disappoints me that a young voice is unwilling to speak into an old ear."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise.
Sean stopped talking. Dumbledore looked over with a brilliant smile and could see a bit of redness around the boy's ears.
The wind blew gently; day was about to break.
That yellowish halo on the horizon finally dissolved the leaden sky.
"I used to think this was the suffering of life, but look, this is the content of life. And even if this life is suffering, it doesn't matter..."
Dumbledore said slowly, chatting idly.
"Why is that?"
Sean asked softly.
He couldn't imagine how Headmaster Dumbledore had resisted the temptation of the Resurrection Stone.
The Resurrection Stone, no matter how heartbreaking its actual results might be, could indeed summon souls in the end.
For Headmaster Dumbledore, this meant he was about to see Ariana, see his mother and father, and tell them how much regret was in his heart...
"Because... I'm setting out again, rowing with my broken oar."
Dumbledore smiled.
...
Hogwarts Castle had just greeted the first crow of a rooster.
Few young wizards here would wake up at this time.
In other words, only those young wizards who were still up wandering or hadn't slept all night could hear this cry.
Sean heard it because he had just returned to Hogwarts Castle.
Using Fawkes the phoenix's Apparition.
It was truly an interesting experience; Sean felt like he had turned into a ball of fire, spreading to Hogwarts Castle with the wind.
Even more interesting and pleasing to Sean was that Headmaster Dumbledore had let go of his obsession with the Resurrection Stone.
This meant Sean had enough time to break the curse and verify its efficacy in the field of souls.
Ravenclaw Tower was silent. As Sean read books about the Resurrection Stone, he observed a "little phoenix" that had appeared on his desk for a while.
A few seconds later, the "little phoenix" burrowed into a special photo.
In it, Dumbledore was blinking with a smile; this was the first time he had appeared in color.
After a moment, that "phoenix" flew out from his spot again and played with the squirrel that had run out from Quirrell's spot.
Sean looked out the window, his deep green eyes like a calm lake.
At the same time, in the Headmaster's office.
An owl rarely seen flew out from here, carrying a letter in its claws that hadn't been sent for many years.
> ...I write to you this Easter... perhaps I met a lucky black cat.
> To our surprise, it promises us neither glory nor bliss, but it blesses our hope...