rps+Tomie] NOT+REAL?

"Love?... Really love someone... Can't even forget the size of his feet..."

Newt was lingering at the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The last class before Christmas had long since ended, and the third-year students from the four colleges poured out laughing and playing. No one ran away, and some blatantly or casually watched over—with curious, examining, and guarded eyes.He waited until the crowd cleared away, and the corridor was so quiet that Pickett could be heard rustling in his pocket.Professor Dumbledore still didn't show up.

This is the first time he has returned to Hogwarts after dropping out of school. The castle is as friendly and mysterious as before, bringing stability, even though the wizarding world is full of storms and storms, it is always a rock-solid existence.It seems that the memory sealed in the crystal bottle is vivid.Overwhelmed by the years.It's different after all.

For example, personnel affairs.

The familiar environment evokes memories that are not too far away, and the feelings that grow secretly are so obscure - so that he has always kept the photo of the girl in the box that never leaves him, and wipes it from time to time, but he still can't see clearly. emotion.

Then he heard such a whisper from the classroom, the old and kind voice was somewhat comforting - probably the old man in a certain portrait was comforting the students.

Newt suddenly raised his head, caught off guard a trace of confusion in the eyes of the visitor.

It's Professor Dumbledore.

Oh, so he must have read it wrong, right?

Not probably, but definitely.Newt knew that he had never been a person who could read words and expressions. Compared with people, he was probably better at communicating with those magical animals.

That's right, Professor Dumbledore still looked familiar to him, with a calm cunning in his deep and wise blue eyes.

"Hi Newt, long time no see."

"...Oh, Professor, long time no see... I heard you know Thunderbird..."

He forgot that sentence.

On a later day, Newt was in Paris.

"Apparevestigium."

(trace visible)

The Tracking Charm manifested as a puff of golden smoke, showing signs of recent magical activity in the square.Snuff sniff around the glowing footprints.

"... Tina was here. She was standing here."

Newt seemed to suddenly remember something.

"Her feet are surprisingly narrow...did you notice?"

Then again, it was Harry's first Christmas at Hogwarts.The number of people in the castle was reduced by half, but it was more filled with festive joyous atmosphere.What lingers is the smell of sizzling meat, Christmas pudding, tea, the pleasing sweet aroma of jam—and perhaps some liquor and magic firecrackers.At that time, Harry thought, this might be the happiest Christmas he had ever had.

Then, he trapped himself in the room with the strange mirror - presumably an old classroom - for several days.It was a very imposing mirror, reaching as high as the ceiling, in an ornate gold frame, and supported on two claw-shaped feet.An inscription on the top reads: Erisstra ehruait ubikafruait on vorhes.

Looking at the happily smiling Potter family in the mirror, he felt a sharp pain in his heart, half of joy and half of deep sadness.

Until he met Professor Dumbledore.

"(This mirror) allows us to see only the deepest, most intense desires of our hearts... Yet this mirror can neither teach us nor tell us the truth. People pass in vain before it Days, obsessed with what they see, even driven mad, because they don't know whether everything in the mirror is real, whether it is possible to come true..."

Harry occasionally remembered afterwards a rare personal question he had asked Professor Dumbledore.

"Sir—Professor Dumbledore...what did you see when you looked in the magic mirror?"

"Me? I see myself holding a pair of thick wool socks."

Dumbledore might not be telling the truth.

Harry always believed it.

So many years later, on that dark and stormy day, he mourned, thinking that he had witnessed the first lie of Dumbledore he had witnessed, together with many subsequent lies, accompanied by the great The White Wizard was buried.

Is that really a lie?

Harry didn't see this as a problem.

Seeing Dumbledore again, in a place that seemed to be King's Cross Railway Station, maybe only in his consciousness.

From the Deathly Hallows, to Grindelwald, to Dumbledore's early years, to that melee... Ariana...

Harry thought that he finally knew what Dumbledore would see when he faced the Mirror of Erised, and why Dumbledore understood the attraction of the mirror to him in such a way.

"Grindelwald tried to stop Voldemort from going after that wand. He lied, you know, that he never got it."

"I have heard that he expressed remorse when he was locked up alone in Nurmengard's cell in his later years. I hope this is true. I hope he can feel how horrible and shameful what he has done. Perhaps, he was very angry with Voldemort. To lie is to make amends... to prevent Voldemort from obtaining the Hallows..."

Dumbledore nodded, looking down into his lap, tears still glistening on his crooked nose.

"...or keep him from breaking into your grave?"

Maybe Harry didn't realize how close he was to the truth at that moment - of course, that didn't matter to him at the time.

Later, when Harry was also gray-haired and it was the Christmas season of the year, he had the honor to return to Hogwarts again.

In a picture frame in the principal's office, he finally saw the respectable and lovely principal again.They talked the same as before, only now it was less clouded, even cheerful.all is well.

Headmaster Dumbledore in the frame is still the same as before—wearing a pair of half-moon glasses, a long crooked nose, silver hair and beard hanging down, and fantastic robes.

Oh, on his feet, there was a pair of coarsely woven wool socks - if he hadn't seen it, Harry would have almost completely forgotten the excuse Dumbledore made so many years ago.

"Professor Dumbledore, have you finally got a pair of wool socks for Christmas?"

"Yeah Harry...it fits nicely doesn't it?"

Dumbledore winked.

"If you remember... my strongest desire ever. You probably won't believe that I wasn't lying to you about this."

"I always trust you."

Harry replied.

As an old man, he no longer has the desire to get to the bottom of it. He understands an old man's harmless jokes.

It was time for Harry to leave.

"Gal, you're back..."

The sound of the stone beast turning overwhelmed the conversation of the portraits in the office.

everything is fine.

The author has something to say: I can't update the article recently...sad

But Christmas can't help but play with wool socks

In fact, it was a sudden brain hole when n swiping FB2 and saw a certain scene

GGAD & Newtina

Dark thread (I want to come to a HE quietly