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I felt my eyeballs move, then move again, and then I felt my fingertips.A long time later, or maybe just a second later, as my brain marveled at the fact that I had eyes and fingers, I heard the familiar gurgling sound of a viscous liquid boiling in a cauldron .

Am I still real?Before I opened my eyes, I carefully touched my face with my hands, and then felt the surface on my stomach—the fingers didn't go through the hard, cold floor, and I still had the temperature!I was shrouded in a bright mist, but they were different from the cloudy vapors commonly seen in the evening, and I felt that it was not everything around them that was covered by them, but that the mist had not yet formed the surrounding things.

"Harry?" I tentatively called out into the depths of the mist, and found that my voice was no longer hoarse and tired, it sounded as energetic as if I had slept soundly in Gryffindor Tower, "Neville?"

Except for the sound of potion boiling at the beginning, there was no other voice responding to me. My voice lingered and echoed in the white steam, making me unclear whether it was narrow or spacious.I was wearing robes with the Gryffindor crest embroidered on the chest, and when I looked down at it, the surrounding scenery seemed to take a more definite shape for a moment-the cauldron rack, the medicine cabinet, the whole row. A row of glass bottles—it was Dad's basement classroom, but it was much brighter than usual, as if someone had dug it up whole and placed it near the herb class shed.

There was only one cauldron boiling, and I instinctively touched my robe pocket, but the wand wasn't there.It was still boiling, and I walked closer to see what was brewing inside, but I was puzzled to find that there was a flame dancing in the crucible like the bottom, but there was a slight difference in color and texture. The clump of matter is not as hot and bright as the burning flame at the bottom, which looks like it will splash hot sparks around at any time - it is more like a candle, floating in the crucible and emitting light quietly and gently.I frowned. Curiosity temporarily overwhelmed other questions and I bent down to get closer to it. I stretched out my hand to fan the air near the crucible, but the candle did not shake, nor did I smell it. To any flavor - it just looks like it's simply burning out of thin air.

"I don't think it's a potion."

I turned sharply to see Albus Dumbledore, in flowing robes embellished with golden stars, still gray, but more gray than I remembered, walking towards me from the classroom door. He always looks younger, probably because his back is straight and his steps are brisk.

"My dear child!" he greeted me in a tone full of enthusiasm and emotion, and he put out his hand to stroke the top of my head a few times (I noticed that both his hands were white and intact), and then He sat down across from me, clasped his fingertips together, and looked at me sharply through his blue eyes through the half-moon lenses-but I didn't have the feeling of being swept away by the soul like before, maybe because My head is empty right now.

I think it is inappropriate for an elder to look up at me like this, but there is no chair beside me - just thinking about it, a cloud of mist floated over and became the most commonly used wooden stool in the Potions classroom, which made me even more puzzled , but I sat down anyway.

"You are dead." The moment I blurted out, I felt that this sentence sounded very rude.

"Yeah." Dumbledore didn't look angry, on the contrary, I could feel the joy and relief emanating from the old man from the moment he appeared.

"So... I died just like you? This is... the other side?" I scratched my head, thinking this was another classroom quiz.

"Oh," the old man seemed to be smiling earnestly now, "this is a good question, and it can be answered in many ways, but in general, I don't think so."

"No?" I tried not to look too stupid in my reaction, "We're not dead? Didn't Voldemort shoot us the Death Curse?"

"Although I didn't see it with my own eyes, I don't think he hesitated at that time." Dumbledore replied happily. "Yes, you are all still alive."

"But we should be dead." I felt completely confused, and even bent down under the table to see if the two boys were still lying there, "Let's find Voldemort and let him kill us! Your portrait tells me Neville It was the last Horcrux, so we didn't resist, and we planned to let him finish us like this!"

"Yes, my child." Dumbledore nodded, and he began to twiddle his two thumbs. "That's why everything has changed."

"I don't quite understand." I said dully, "We are all under the death curse, but I appear in this strange place alone."

"Then think about it again." The old man encouraged me patiently, as if he was guiding me to think about whether the improvement conjecture of a potion is reasonable, "It's not the first time that you have survived the death curse, right? ?”

"Neville?" I replied without thinking, but couldn't think of anything else for a while.Outside the window—no, there are no windows in the dungeon, the sunlight shines in through the gaps in the stone bricks, giving Dumbledore's beard and hair a golden texture, but it doesn't take away the brilliance of the candle, It looks even more dazzling and bright than before.

"Neville is Voldemort's Horcrux, and Voldemort took his and Harry's blood when he was resurrected, so Voldemort and the two of them are sharing life?" I guessed wildly, "But he didn't take my blood! Is it because of that The prophecy of life and death—can prophecy really protect people like this?"

"I think that prophecy is just a special revelation or reference, and it has no ability to shape reality." Dumbledore said lightly, "There are many wizards in this world who claim to have the ability to predict, but what they made Much of the prophecy has never been fulfilled, even by our Professor Trelawney - no offense to the good colleagues I found myself and have worked faithfully with me for many years, but I think most of her statements in your eyes It's all—"

"—Nonsense." I couldn't help answering.

Dumbledore laughed, and he continued: "But you guessed correctly about Neville, Miss Snape, the magic that protected Neville back then was actually a blood curse, and his blood relatives exchanged their lives for it. The powerful protective magic has always existed in Neville's blood, and of course it will also exist in the resurrected Voldemort - the two of them are fateful enemies, but the relationship between the two is amazing. Tightness, or this kind of closeness is a manifestation of fate."

"What about me and Harry?" I looked at the palm of my hand. "We don't have that kind of talisman, do we?"

"Really not?" Dumbledore prompted patiently, "What were you thinking when you voluntarily went to the end?"

"Voldemort said he would spare the rest of the Great Hall." I think the answer is slowly becoming clear, but I can't find the exact words to describe it, "We need Ron and Hermione alive so they To be able to tell others how to defeat Voldemort, so that even if we die, the resistance will not stop."

"So, we voluntarily sacrifice to protect others... This desire also protects us?" I made several gestures to help myself think, but I still didn't think I was right, "The death curse killed Neville's body." Soul shards, it was seen as a sacrifice... so the magic of protection worked? Did Neville protect me and Harry? Or did we protect each other?"

"Can you tell me more about it?" I tentatively asked the smiling Dumbledore, "Give me an answer... something like that."

"My child, when you leave school longer, you will find that there is actually no standard answer to most things in this world." Dumbledore nodded with a smile, and I continued to stare at him blankly.

"Voldemort never took the time to understand what he didn't value. He believed that there were only two kinds of connection between people, between people and house-elves, and between all life. , loyal and simply ignorant. He is obsessed with his ability to delve into the dark arts, thinking that these seldom-traveled areas will make him above everyone, but obviously he is wrong, he cannot understand magic He has never been able to comprehend the power of these forces—or rather, he has experienced it, but only feels that it is an embarrassing and accidental mistake."

"In the study of black magic, he may really surpass all wizards in the past and present, but for other things, he is probably more ignorant than a babbling child. But at the same time, his greed, arrogance and fear of death make him covet This kind of power, so he took the most brutal way to grab them, and then paid the price for his ignorance today." Dumbledore looked at the flames in the cauldron, "Neville and Voldemort traveled together in the most mysterious place in magic. As a part of it, you and Harry were involved because Voldemort believed the content of the second prophecy. In addition to having some connection with Voldemort himself more or less, the relationship between the three of you is also getting closer-to each other Trust, working together, saving each other, these feelings are constantly aggravating the connection between you. Then today, even with the fear of death, you all stood in front of Voldemort and chose to accept your "fate", So fate also rewarded your courage at that moment, it charged a piece of Voldemort's soul as the price, and let you voluntarily sacrifice to protect everyone behind you, and also protect each other."

"To live and die together?" I felt as if I understood everything, but at the same time I didn't understand anything. "We have the awareness to die together, but we just happened to meet the conditions for living together?"

"Don't think this is an easy task." Dumbledore sighed, "Many great wizards are more afraid of death itself because of their great power. I think you have heard many such stories along the way. "

"Like the Deathly Hallows?" I asked cautiously, and saw the old man's smile fade away.

"Yeah...a stupid bait, a dream of a desperate man." His voice trembled a little, "I feel relieved... I am extremely relieved that you have not followed in my footsteps, you are more noble than me."

"So you always knew that things would turn out like this?" I changed the subject after sensing the old man's pain. I didn't have a more detailed understanding of the Deathly Hallows.

"Most of these are my conjectures, but my conjectures are generally not too far from the facts." Dumbledore looked a little disturbed, "Of course, I had to make my portrait lie at the end, so that You suffer so badly—"

"If we're lucky, it's all going to change again, isn't it?" I watched him stand up and try to touch the candles with the tips of his fingers, which didn't seem to cause him pain." It's a white lie, and I don't mind."

"What is this?" After a moment of silence, I looked at the cauldron and asked, "You said it's not a potion."

"Of course, it's just a ball of candlelight." Dumbledore showed an expression of tearing down festive firecrackers, "Or in your opinion, Miss Snape, does it have any other special meaning?"

"The prophecy says that the fate of the shift will ignite the remaining candle." I looked at the flame that seemed to be alive and licked the old man's pale and slender fingertips meekly, "I always thought that the candle was our three A child born at the end of July. But when I -- when we walked towards Voldemort and decided that there would be people who would continue to accomplish those things after we died, it occurred to me that we were never alone... We had family, classmates and friends behind us. Friends, all those who choose to fight against Voldemort...they are no different from us, and their fate was changed by Voldemort, as long as there are people alive, this belief in fighting against the darkness will not die, because there will be new candles Constantly being lit...the fire is everyone, the living, the dead...is that so, Professor?"

I watched Dumbledore take out the ball of candle lightly with his hands, and the old man laughed: "My dear child, I don't know, as people say, you are the party! But I like this Interpretation—that's what prophecy is, there are countless ways to explain it, and unfortunately people tend to only accept one as a possibility."

"It looks like this class is coming to an end." A distant bell rang outside the classroom, and Dumbledore looked at a wooden door that appeared on the wall at an unknown time. This is the last class for teachers and students, and I am very honored, Miss Snape."

"Wait!" I felt something flash in my mind, and I stood up abruptly before he could move, "You...you are dead."

"That's right." Dumbledore nodded easily.

"But you are here." I observed his expression carefully, "So... what about the others?"

"Oh," he didn't look surprised, stood up and bowed to me, "I'm just me, boy, I can't represent anyone else."

He motioned for me to raise a glass, the candle in the palm of his hand rolled down from between his fingers like running water, and suddenly there was something like a glass between my closed five fingers, and I hadn’t seen clearly what was inside the glass. Dumbledore said happily, "Goodbye—good luck."

He strode over and opened the door and disappeared into the bright sunlight. I looked down and found that the cup was not flames, but half a cup of liquid exuding soft starlight.After standing still for a while, I realized that the sunlight penetrating through the cracks in the stone bricks was getting brighter and brighter, as if it was going to turn this small classroom into a mass of nothingness—so I approached it with the glass in my hand. The door that Dumbledore left, before I opened it, I felt the warm breath mixed with wind, sunshine and flower fragrance.

I have never seen such a large sea of ​​irises. What I can see is a long, gentle hillside. Every inch of land is full of irises. They are gently swaying their branches and leaves in the gentle breeze. With wet dew.Then I turned around and found that there was no classroom made of stone bricks here, but I was not surprised——I came here for the first time, but in the sea of ​​flowers overflowing my ankles, I felt a kind of The familiar smell of crying, it reminds me of the rag dolls that have been put in the basement, the old robes that my mother no longer wears for a long time...all the things that were closest to me that have been left outside my memory.

Then I easily found Draco Malfoy on the hillside. He looked like he was three or four years old, and he was hovering among the flowers on a toy broomstick that could only fly slowly in the low air. , the dangling feet impatiently brushing away the flowers on both sides, looking arrogant and airy.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" He saw me from a distance, with a trace of vigilance, and at the same time, as if wanting to show off his superb flying skills, he drove the broom to brush against me at a very fast speed But after pulling away again, he stopped, and then frowned, "How did you get here? If you don't speak again, I will call my father!"

I had to squat down so that he wouldn't be completely overwhelmed by my shadow, and at the same time, I realized that everything here had no shadow except me, which made it all the more pure.But my action frightened him. He fell off the broom and stepped back a few steps. After finding that there was no hiding place around him, he fumbled in the delicate little robe on his body, took out I waved a toy wand that only shoots colored bars before my eyes.

"I didn't bring a magic wand." I held up my two hands to show him, and found that the glass bottle I was holding in my right hand just now turned into a blooming star iris, which was reflected in the boy's eyes Shining starlight, he looked confused and curious, and even forgot to wipe the corners of his eyes that were already red.

"What is this?" he asked first, and then tried his best not to care. "Whatever it is, my manor at home will do—I have a manor!"

"This is a flower sheltered by the light of the starry sky." I handed him the Iris Stasta, and he hesitated for a moment, but took it anyway. When he touched its soft and fragile petals, he showed a happy expression that only belongs to a child , "Someone told me... unless the stars fall, the flowers will last forever."

"Then you made the right decision to give it to me." He said proudly, shaking his pale golden hair, "Mom said, my name is a constellation, and our family is named after the constellation."

"It belongs to you." I sat among the soft flowers, feeling the warm sunshine as if it made me want to fall asleep.

"Then why don't I remember?" He curled his lips, "I see, you are lying to me, I want to tell my dad—"

"I come from...a long time ago." I whispered, "You gave it to me when you grew up."

"I've never heard of such a thing." He fiddled with the flower, his tone full of hesitation, "Really - if you dare to lie to me, I will make you pay the price!"

"It's very beautiful." After a moment of silence, he absently tore off a petal, "You really... came from a long time ago? Then you must know a lot of things about me when I grew up?"

"Yes." I nodded and watched the little boy in front of me raise his head in surprise. He even walked a few steps closer to me. Short fleece for kids.

"Then tell me," he said commandingly, "did I grow up to do a lot? Did I get a lot of glory—like, like the Boy Who Lived and everyone knew I was Who! Have I become that kind of person? Will my parents be proud of me? Have I lived up to their expectations?"

"Yes, you... have done a lot of things. You will become the head of the Hogwarts Boys' Union, and everyone will remember your contributions in the future." I replied softly.

"Really! Then I really want to grow up in the blink of an eye!" Draco tilted his head, looking extremely excited, "But why are you crying?"

"Because..." I looked at the Dosta Iris and replied slowly, "I still owe you half a dance."

"Really, I don't remember." He seemed to look me up and down carefully, as if evaluating whether I was qualified to be his dance partner, "Is there such a thing?"

"That happened later," I said, "so you don't remember now."

"Oh, but I don't like dancing at all." Draco curled his lips. "It's boring and dull, and you have to put on a smiley face and be careful not to make those cute little girls cry-what's the fun!"

"Is this something very important?" He looked at me laughing and shaking his head and wiping tears with his cuffs, the expression on his face became very disgusted, as if he was worried that I would get tears and snot on his neat little robe. "Don't cry, my mother said that only children can cry casually."

"Commitment is important," I explained to him, "but the dance never ends."

"Here, don't cry, it's annoying—well, for the sake of telling me what's going to happen today and bringing me this flower, I forgive you." He waved his hand, "Anyway, I'm I don't remember either."

"I'm going home." A voice came from a distance again, this time it was no longer the bell for the end of get out of class, but a melodious bell, and the boy ran a few steps up the hillside with the dosta iris, and then returned Turned to look at me, "You haven't told me your name yet."

"Alice, Alice Snape," I replied, watching the wind on the hillside ruffle his hair.

"Okay, Miss Alice Snape." He waved the flower with his hand, and said to me in that lazy, drawn-out tone, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye." I knew he couldn't hear my farewell, which was as soft as a sigh, but he turned his head and looked at me again, with curiosity and inquiry in his eyes, and then, as if urged by a distant bell, He started to run forward, and for so many years after that, I never dreamed of him again.

"I know it's just something that happened in my head," I sat in the flowers, I felt footsteps behind me, Dumbledore stood behind me with a smile, watching the boy disappear in the sea of ​​flowers with me, blurred, and then I found that everything around me was floating, slowly turning into the initial bright mist, "These are just some illusions—"

I felt like I was beginning to fall wrapped in white mist, but Dumbledore's voice came to my ears louder and more powerfully with the increasingly clear bell.

"Of course it's happening in your head, Alice, but why does that mean it's not real?"