The Last Goodbye

t's book of the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald?

Intrigued, Professor Potter couldn't wait to flip back, only to find that the dark wizard had made notes on almost every page.The Latin incantations are crowded with dense annotations and revisions. Harry flipped through the pages and finally stopped on one of them.He couldn't help but bring his wand closer to make out the dark wizard's rich but overly complicated lettering.This page is unusual. Grindelwald didn't make any annotations, but left a long paragraph of text in the blank space.After reading it silently twice, Harry still couldn't believe his eyes.

[I discovered an ancient magic that has the powerful power to allow people to travel across time and space.I use it to go back to the past in an attempt to change the direction of fate.However, the future has not changed as I imagined, and my only friend and I are still separated forever.I have nothing left to afford the high cost of reactivating the magic.Since it can't restore the lost life, and can't change the trajectory of fate, let it be sealed forever.I'm really sorry, my friend.I know it's all in vain, and I don't expect your forgiveness.But if you find this book, if you miss the times we spent together, if you want to go back to how it was before, if you believe me, please call. Loveyours, GG】

Harry looked up and looked around.At some point, the lights in the library were all turned off. In the quiet night, there was only the occasional wind that penetrated the slender windows, and the beating heart in my chest.The youth settled down.He was pretty sure that if this was really Grindelwald's book, the text would only be reserved for one person.He leaned forward, approached the damp paper, and whispered out a name.

"Albus Dumbledore."

The book is suspended in the air very quietly, under the reflection of fluorescent lights, there is no slightest change. Harry frowned.Could it be that he was wrong?He looked at the text again, and the words 'lost lives' caught his eyes. Harry approached the book again, calling another name in a deeper voice than before, "Ariana Dumbledore."

The breath swept across the paper, and the gorgeous handwriting seemed to be awakened from a deep sleep, and gradually moved. The ink marks were combined and intertwined, drawing a complicated magic circle, and then a few lines of Latin appeared inside and below the magic circle .

Harry stared at those lines intently - such a complex magic circle has gradually disappeared since the fall of the elves, and modern wizards hardly use it anymore.But if it's Grindelwald's book, it might really be real old time magic!Those handwritings quickly wandered away after combining the words and magic circle, and finally returned to their original state. Harry's heart was pounding, and he couldn't help reaching out and stroking the parchment.How long has this book been here? Had Headmaster Dumbledore seen it?Has anyone found this spell?Has anyone tried starting it?He felt the lion's blood that had been silent for five years rushing in his body, and the primitive and unknown danger stimulated his nerves.A crazy idea was forming in his mind, so crazy that his wand hand trembled with tension and excitement.

He thought of the words of the snake-faced man, those scarlet eyes, and the vows he made countless times in the smoke of the decisive battle.

He clenched the book in his hand. Harry Potter would never succumb to fate easily.He's going to challenge it.He is going to change it.

--

Author's Note: The pairings are Harry and Riddle and Gindelwald and Dumbledore.Main plot direction, medium-length novel, HE ending, the outline has been drawn up so there will be no pitfalls, monthly updates are guaranteed, and weekly updates are strived for. I hope readers like it.

where it all started

WHERE EVERYTHING BEGINS

1937

Late autumn in London was damp and cold, with fine rain falling from leaden clouds.In such a bleak weather, at the end of the dark and smelly streets, in the small space occupied by garbage and rats, time and space are suddenly distorted.There is no wind here, but the falling rain is drawn into the whirlpool.The vortex grows bigger and bigger until a burst of energy erupts from the center.The rats on the wall were knocked to the ground, howling and fleeing in all directions.When the air returned to calm again, a man appeared in the small space.

The man breathed heavily, and stretched out his hand to support the stone wall next to him.He stood there for a few seconds before moving his hands and feet, as if to confirm that his limbs were still alive.The man shook the suitcase he was carrying with him, heaved a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of papers coming from inside, then wrapped his cloak tightly, and walked out of the claustrophobic alley.

The rain was pattering down.The man pressed the brim of his hat with one hand and clutched the suitcase with the other, and quickly walked through the sparsely populated streets one after another.He paused for a while in front of a magazine called Bookman, and then walked towards the opposite T-junction.This was originally a crossroads, but it was cut off in the middle by a church-like building—but the gray-brown bricks, broken glass and rusty iron gates of the building showed that it was not a church .Devout London believers would not let the community church wither like this even when the economy is so depressed.The man stepped forward and wiped the rainwater off his face.He looked up at the big words WOOL'S above the iron gate.

It rained harder and harder.When the doorbell rang for the third time, Mrs. Cole finally stopped what she was doing and ordered Quint, the tallest of the children, to answer the door.The man outside the iron gate waved to the boy through the rain, "How are you, kid?"

"Hello," the boy leaned out half of his body and looked at the visitor hesitantly—if he was a homeless man, he had to be driven away as soon as possible, if he still wanted today's dinner.But the other party was well dressed, if he hadn't been drenched in the rain, Quint added in his heart.

"This rain really comes when you say it." The man's tone was friendly and relaxed, and he lowered the brim of his hat in the rain, "What's your name, kid?"

"My name is Quint," the older boy opened the door slightly, "what can I do, sir?"

"Look, Quint, I'm a writer, and I've made an appointment with the editor of Bookman magazine across the street to help me promote my new work. But unfortunately, I seem to be early, and I guess they're drinking tea outside now." The man shook his shoulders Then he carefully put the suitcase in his hand under his arm, "Can you let me go in to avoid the rain for a while? If I get wet with the manuscript, I will be in vain." Quint hesitated for a moment, leaned out and looked again After looking at the man, he said, "Wait a minute, I'll ask Mrs. Cole. What's your name?"

"Just call me Harry, Harry Potter." The man smiled and nodded to him in thanks.

As a devout Christian, Mrs. Cole has always thought of herself as a kind and charitable person.So after confirming that the other party was a decent person, he welcomed the young writer in the door. Quint took the initiative to wipe off the water stains left by the door, while Caroline prepared hot tea and snacks.

"As you can see, this is an orphanage."

Seeing the writer curiously looking at several children wearing aprons who were busy in the living room, Mrs. Cole explained while helping him take off his drenched coat.It was almost winter, but there was no fire in the house.The economy was so depressed that the dean and the orphans were thinly dressed. Harry looked back and smiled at the headmistress friendly, "The children here are really sensible and capable."

The woman who received the compliment didn't show a smile, but said, "This is what a devout Christian should do," before making a sign of the cross on her chest.The tea was served quickly, and Harry put his hands on the cup to warm it up, looked up and looked around.The orphanage was probably rebuilt from an abandoned church. The cross of the crucified Jesus was nailed to the wall in the middle of the hall, which looked extraordinarily solemn against the hazy weather in London.The orphanage is divided into upper and lower floors, and all the rooms on the second floor can be seen from the hollow hall.Behind the half-hidden door, several children were curiously looking at the strange visitor through the crack of the door.

"I heard that you are going to find someone at the magazine opposite?" Mrs. Cole pulled Harry back from his thoughts.

"Yes." The young writer replied politely.The woman across the table narrowed her gray eyes, and said slowly, "...but that magazine has been closed for a long time."

"Ah...?" The writer blinked suspiciously, "But I also received a letter from the editor last month..." He said as he took out a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket. When the piece of paper was released, a gold pocket watch also slid out. Mrs.Cole took the letter and read it, and there was indeed Bookman's address written on the signature.She looked at Mr. Potter's tailored suit and expensive pocket watch again, and felt that the other party's words were credible.Besides, if a thief dressed so well, he wouldn't choose such a poor orphanage to steal.

"It's probably someone's prank," she concluded by shaking her head, "have a cup of tea to warm up first, first