Chapter 365 Dumbledore Is on the Way

( ) "Professor Snape?"

In the deserted corridor, Snape and Maca paced forward one after the other. On the way, Maca only shouted once, seeing that Snape didn't intend to respond, he didn't say any more, just followed his footsteps.

Just judging by the route of travel, Snape should be taking him to the principal's office.

When the two arrived in front of the principal's office via the escalator, Snape paused, then drew out his wand and tapped the closed door.

Soon, with a soft sound of the mechanism, the door of the principal's office, which was obviously locked, opened leisurely.

Seeing Snape walking in, Maca immediately followed. Just as soon as he stepped on the floor of the principal's office, his eyes were attracted by a flame-like crimson.

It was the Phoenix Fox, standing on the bird stand as usual, with his head lowered carelessly, using its sharp beak to gently arrange the feathers under its wings.

Maca, who is usually used to Fox, stared at its posture a few more times this time, with a strange look on his face.

"Professor Snape, it's all here, so it should be something?" Maca turned his head, looked at Snape who was standing in front of the principal's desk with his back turned, and said, "Next It will definitely be very busy in the next few days, and you know it."

"Ok."

Snape snorted, then turned around and handed the small glass tube to Maca.

"Dumbledore asked me to give this to you."

Upon hearing this, Maca reached out to take it, put it in front of her eyes and looked at it.

In that small glass tube, some pure silver flocs were stored in it, and became entangled.

"Is this... a memory?"

He had never seen such a materialized memory, so he seemed a little hesitant.

"Probably!" Snape said flatly, "Dumbledore didn't leave any explanation."

"Professor..." Maca shook the glass tube, then raised his eyes to Snape, "What happened to Dumbledore's death... No, I want to ask, is Dumbledore really dead?" die?"

"Didn't you check it yourself?" Snape didn't give a positive answer.

"But—" Maca looked at the Phoenix Fox on the shelf, then at the glass tube in his hand, and frowned, "Before this, I still vaguely felt that Dumbledore was on the road of magic. Another step forward...how could he be like this..."

"I know the reason for his death. He just wanted to convey the news of his own death to the outside world." Snape said casually, "You're not stupid, you should be able to figure it out, right?"

After Snape mentioned this, Maca nodded thoughtfully.

Dumbledore's death seemed quite abrupt to everyone. This is true for our own people, and of course it is also true for outsiders.

Don't look at Voldemort talking so easily and proudly in the stone room, but if someone asked him, would he dare to attack Hogwarts Castle now? He might have killed the idiot who asked the question immediately.

Whether Albus Dumbledore is dead or alive, he is enough to make people dare not act rashly. This is the powerful power accumulated by the greatest white wizard of our time.

Seeing Maca lost in thought, Snape waved his hand, and then pointed to the glass tube in his hand.

"As for his real thoughts, anyway, I haven't been able to figure it out. If you want me to say...you should take a look at what he left you first! Maybe there are clues in it, isn't it?"

In fact, as long as the topic of Dumbledore was mentioned, Snape would appear quite impatient.

Although he was indeed a double agent placed by Dumbledore on Voldemort's side, the relationship between him and Dumbledore was only maintained through a certain transaction.

Now that Dumbledore was dead, Snape's thoughts were even more complicated.

"……Too."

Maca weighed the glass tube in his hand, sighed softly, and then walked straight to the cabinet where the Pensieve was placed.

"Come back to my office after reading it," Snape said as he walked towards the door. "I feel uncomfortable talking here."

Seeing the door of the principal's office closing slowly, Maca shook his head slightly, and then reached out to open the cabinet door.

The shimmering silver light of the Pensieve soon diffused from the cabinet. Maca pulled out the oak stopper on the glass tube, poured the pure silver floc inside, and shook his palm over the shallow basin.

Under the action of magic power, those flocs quickly and silently melted away.

When Maca saw this, he immediately lowered his head, and poked his face into the silver like water and mist.

...

hazy.

The first thing Maca felt was a haze like being in steam or a thick mist.

Can't see anything, can't touch anything.

He can't feel his own weight, and he doesn't have various sensory feedbacks. Only by "feeling" can he clearly discover his own existence.

Suddenly, he felt as if he "saw" something—it was a looming figure walking slowly towards him.

Step by step, unhurried, as if traveling aimlessly.

With every step of that figure, the "haze" around him will flow and converge into the actual scene.

In Maca's "horizon", it was like seeing an extremely wide oil painting slowly approaching him. In that dreamlike oil painting, every smear of oil paint is constantly extending and spreading.

As the scene gradually became complete, Maca quickly discovered that it was a western street covered with a thin layer of snow.

The weather seemed to be at night, and the street lamps along the street were all lit up, and the faint light seemed much brighter under the reflection of the white snow.

On both sides of the street, the doors and windows of the well-arranged houses are mostly closed, and the curtains are not even opened.

Just as Maca looked at the increasingly complete scene in front of him, that illusory figure gradually became clearer.

Long white beard and white hair, silver-gray floor-length nightgown, wrinkled and vicissitudes of life... and those blue eyes that are always hidden behind half-moon lenses.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

Maca wanted to speak, but found that he couldn't find his mouth at all.

Dumbledore came slowly and stood in front of Maca's consciousness.

"Maka, you're here..."

He smiled and opened his mouth, but Maca only felt that Dumbledore's voice sounded directly in his consciousness.

"Well, isn't this place amazing?" Dumbledore said gently, "You don't need to talk... because you can't speak, and I can't hear..."

"I know you must have a lot of problems, but those are not important... Well, at least for me, it's not important anymore..."

"Because, your bonds with everyone, and the efforts you have made for those bonds, allow me to be myself—the self who knows 'selfishness'."

Maca understood the meaning behind Dumbledore's words.

Because of the existence of Maca, Dumbledore was finally free to continue to understand the true meaning of magic, and took another step smoothly.

"This irresponsible old man!"

After thinking this through, Maca couldn't help but want to roll his eyes and show him.

"You must be a little angry when you hear me say that? Of course, then..." Dumbledore had a mischievous smile on his face, and he paused before continuing, "Then, let me go first Let me tell you something that you want to know the most right now..."

"Well, if I made a mistake, don't blame me..." Dumbledore laughed, "Yes, for you, I'm already 'dead', already 'dead'."

"But for me, I'm obviously not 'dead' yet...or in other words, I still have a long way to go before I can truly 'dead'!"

Maca was taken aback when he heard it, and then immediately "looked" around. But the surrounding scenes are no different from the "real" in his cognition, and there is no trick at all.

"Limbo?"

In Maca's consciousness, a strange but familiar word flashed past.

In the wizarding world, there has been no such vocabulary since ancient times. This is a complete Muggle word. The so-called Lingbo Prison can be interpreted as "the edge of hell", which is the place closest to death.

But Maca didn't know that the concept itself actually originated from the magic world.

"It doesn't matter if you don't understand, I called you here this time to introduce you to this place..." Dumbledore said softly, "Do you still remember the sentence I have been emphasizing? For a wizard, death, Just another great adventure."

"I have been looking for the door leading to 'adventure', but there are some past events in my heart, which always make me unable to let go..."

Dumbledore said, looking towards him as if he could see Maca.

"But Maca, your appearance made me gradually understand that the traces of entanglement are just me bothering myself. Watching every step you take, watching you move forward without hesitating , I knew where I was wrong."

"So now, I'm back on my path -- I'm not dwelling on past mistakes, I'm not beating myself up for Ariana's death, I'm not taking Ariana's wishes as my own... ..."

"So, I can finally retire."

The "Arianna" that Dumbledore spoke of was his long-dead sister.

Although Maca knew that Dumbledore had been regretting what happened back then, he did not expect that strong and profound self-blame was the direct reason for him to become the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Arianna and I both love the whole world deeply, but I have always understood that my 'love' with her has never been in the same form."

When he said these words, Dumbledore looked so energetic, as if even his old face was several decades younger.