Hogwarts: Wizards Supreme

Harry opened his eyes and found himself lying in a bright mist, surrounded by silence.

He stood up from where he was lying and looked around with blank eyes but alertness.

There was nothing around him, just a misty white, unformed nothingness. A small slapping and whimpering sound came from afar, like a wounded cub struggling, but it made Harry feel very uncomfortable.

He looked at his naked body and thought he should have some clothes. As soon as this idea came up, a clean and soft robe appeared not far away. He put on his robe and touched his face. His glasses were gone, but he could see everything around him clearly.

Harry sat down on the ground in despair, knowing that he was dead.

"Is this the world after death?" He looked at the scenery gradually transforming around him, with an expression of reluctance and resentment.

Only now did he realize that death was not terrible. He was just unwilling to accept that he had been plotted against by Snape and died involuntarily at the hands of Voldemort.

The surrounding mist gradually transformed into a huge hall, with neat rows of chairs and railings. A child with rough, dark red skin that looked like he had been skinned was huddled tremblingly under a seat, struggling hard. He looked petite and frail, but Harry felt sincerely disgusted.

"So, here you are, Harry." A familiar voice said.

Harry looked back suddenly, and Dumbledore was walking towards him, his steps brisk, his hands intact, and he was wearing a dark blue robe.

"Mr. Dumbledore..." Harry opened his mouth, as if something was blocked in his throat. Surprise, sadness, joy, some resentment and more grievances arose in his heart. Harry felt like a kid who had been bullied and finally met his parents, which made him blush a little for no reason.

Dumbledore opened his arms, gave him a warm hug, and then pulled him to sit on a chair nearby.

"I think you must have a lot of doubts..." Dumbledore said with a smile that warmed people's hearts like a flame.

"No, I'm dead," Harry said.

"Ah, we can discuss this issue later." Dumbledore said, "Can you tell me what happened, Harry?"

At the mention of this, the hatred and anger in Harry's heart surged up again. He barely suppressed the urge to throw something, and recounted tonight's events with a straight face.

Dumbledore listened carefully and said with emotion: "I didn't expect them to choose this method. It's really... simple and crude."

Hearing Dumbledore's comment, Harry's eyes widened in annoyance, and he shouted loudly: "It's Snape! He overheard the prophecy and killed my parents, and now he wants to... also kill him." I!"

"No, I am more inclined to believe that you are not dead, Harry." Dumbledore's expression was soft and sad, which somehow extinguished the anger in Harry's heart. "Compared to this, I also have a few stories here. You Are you willing to calm down and listen?"

Harry nodded and listened to Dumbledore tell everything about him. About the piece of Voldemort's soul in Harry, about the agreement between Dumbledore and Snape, about the Deathly Hallows and Dumbledore himself...

I don't know how long it took, but when Dumbledore finished telling this long story, Harry's expression was a little dazed. After a long time, he said: "So... Snape did this according to your plan?"

"I'm afraid so." Dumbledore nodded, "Although I don't recommend this approach."

"But I still say the same, you can always trust Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore said.

"Why did he do this?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "He hates me... Voldemort said that Snape begged him to bypass my mother before?"

Dumbledore sighed and said: "I made an agreement with Severus not to tell the truth to anyone else. But, Harry, he definitely doesn't hate you, and I hope you can face him..."

Harry was silent for a moment, then nodded stiffly. He knew that he would probably never get rid of his dislike of Snape for the rest of his life.

"Then, I think it's time for you to go back, Harry." Dumbledore said. "When you come here and go back safe and sound, it means the true end of Voldemort."

"Where is this place?" Harry looked around, feeling more and more familiar.

"Hey, I was just going to ask you." Dumbledore blinked.

"King's Cross!" said Harry. "But it's much cleaner and emptier, and I can't see the train."

"Oh my God, is this here?" Dumbledore sighed.

Harry saw that everything around him became blurry again, and Dumbledore's figure was gradually submerged in the fog.

"Last point, is this real? Or is it happening in my head?" Harry said, looking at the shadow getting further and further away.

"Of course it happened in your head, Harry, but why does that mean it's not real?" Dumbledore's voice came loudly, but his figure disappeared into the white mist.

After Harry's figure disappeared, Dumbledore sat on his seat with a relaxed expression. In his eyes, the place was still the same as before, empty and clean.

"He's back." A thin figure walked over from the mist in the distance and sat side by side with Dumbledore. He was wearing a purple-black robe, and his snow-white hair was neatly combed.

"What a strange connection..." The figure picked up the wrinkled and ugly child under the seat and looked at it with disgust and curiosity, as if he was looking at something worth studying.

"It's really interesting that the split of the soul can produce such an ugly product." He shook the child casually in his hand. The child whimpered, trembling and unable to resist.

"Compared to this, Brian Foley's behavior is more troublesome." Dumbledore said, "He single-handedly caused endless killings... I hope this was not instigated by you, Gellert?"

"We have reached this situation now, why are you still struggling?" Grindelwald glanced at him sideways, "You can't always control everything. The world will still develop without anyone... Let it go."

"That's right, I was just worrying." Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, "You win."

"No, none of us won." Grindelwald said, "Brian Foley's actions came from his own ideas. To put it bluntly, we all lost, and it would be a good idea to exit before being completely abandoned by the times. choose."

"Yes, there is no point in worrying about winning or losing." Dumbledore sighed.

Grindelwald finished studying the red-skinned child in his hand and threw it aside. The child rolled around on the ground a few times and then curled up and whimpered, looking extremely pitiful.

"Then, let's move forward?" Grindelwald stood up and said.

"Of course, I couldn't ask for it." Dumbledore smiled, with unprecedented calmness and joy in his smile. He finally put aside all his worries and responsibilities, smiling like an innocent and curious child.

A train rumbled from a distance, stopped on the platform, and opened the door silently, as if making a silent invitation to them.

"That's great. I don't have to walk over with my old bones." Grindelwald opened his legs and walked towards the car door in a hurry.

"This is a decent way to prepare for a new journey." Dumbledore smiled and walked side by side with Grindelwald.

"Actually, I think there are other things behind this white mist, but it's a pity that we can't get involved." Grindelwald said.

"Yes, but we have our own path here, so why worry about the existence behind the white mist?" Dumbledore said freely and honestly.

"Yes, I really want to know what's ahead." Grindelwald stepped onto the train with great interest, with some expectation and urgency in his expression.

"That will definitely be another great adventure." Dumbledore followed, "It's not so satisfying to have you as a companion along the way."

"Hmph, if it weren't for the fact that we were the only two left here, who would be willing to go with you, an old guy?" Grindelwald snorted coldly, then stretched out his right hand and urged, "Hurry up and come up."

"It's not like I can't even get on the train..." Dumbledore's voice drifted into the mist that reappeared at some point.

The train rumbled deep into the white fog and disappeared into the thick fog in the distance.

On the platform, only the ugly child was left struggling and whimpering, his hands weakly grasping the sky, but he could not move a step.

Everything transformed by the white mist slowly collapsed, and the bright white mist drowned everything, drowning the child's figure and voice, leaving only this everlasting mist and eternal silence.