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It was a bright valley.
A stream babbled across emerald fields while sunlight melted over everything like warm honey. The air carried the scent of fresh grass mixed with baking pies drifting from wizard kitchens, plus the sweet tang of wild apple trees on the distant hillside.
A ginger cat lay sprawled on a low stone wall, belly rising and falling with each breath.
"We're almost there," Dumbledore said softly.
Behind him, the young wizard in black robes was thinking that the Headmaster had slipped out of Hogwarts again. No wonder Professor McGonagall always let out those quiet sighs when she didn't realize anyone was listening.
Sean lifted his head. He and Dumbledore stood in an old narrow lane beneath a brilliant summer sky. Lazy clouds drifted overhead. Houses lined both sides, their windows sparkling with Christmas decorations. Up ahead, golden streetlamps marked the center of the village.
Sean knew exactly where they were.
Godric's Hollow.
A village in the West Country of England.
Hogwarts: A History described it like this:
After the International Statute of Secrecy took effect in 1689, wizards withdrew completely into hiding.
Naturally, they formed their own small communities within larger ones.
Many villages attracted several wizarding families who banded together to help and protect one another.
Tinworth in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, and Ottery St. Catchpole on England's south coast all had clusters of wizarding homes living among tolerant—sometimes Confunded—Muggles.
Among these half-wizard settlements, perhaps the most famous was Godric's Hollow.
This southwestern village was the birthplace of the great wizard Godric Gryffindor and the place where the wizard goldsmith Bowman Wright forged the first Golden Snitch.
The graveyard was filled with the surnames of ancient wizarding families—a fact that no doubt explained the many centuries of ghost stories surrounding the little church.
"Oh, isn't it wonderful?" Dumbledore said lightly as they walked along a path blooming with wildflowers. "Decades have passed, yet it looks exactly as I remember it. Just… fewer wizards."
He glanced at Sean. "Do you know where we are?"
"Godric's Hollow, Headmaster," Sean replied.
"Correct. Let's walk a little faster—before Minerva realizes we've slipped away. We're heading to the graveyard…"
Dumbledore picked up his pace. Though the old Headmaster was well over a hundred, his body was surprisingly spry. Perhaps because, by wizarding standards, he was only middle-aged.
As a result, Sean had to jog to keep up. Eventually he simply leaped forward and transformed into a sleek black cat weaving through the fields and flowers.
Dumbledore glanced at the black cat with a familiar twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
They turned left along the path, and the village center appeared before them—a small square half-hidden behind wind-blown pines, strung with colorful lights.
There were several shops, a post office, a pub, and a little church whose stained-glass windows cast jewel-like reflections across the square.
The grass was packed hard from a day of footsteps. Villagers crossed paths in front of them, softly illuminated by the streetlamps.
Some stared at Dumbledore in surprise and quickly covered their mouths. Others approached with warm, simple greetings. When they turned away, their eyes were often moist.
Dumbledore smiled and responded to every person—wizards, witches, young and old alike. Though he hadn't returned for decades, the people here still seemed to recognize him.
The black cat heard bursts of laughter and popular music spilling from the pub door, along with hymns drifting from the little church.
A narrow gate marked the entrance to the graveyard. Dumbledore pushed it open as quietly as possible while the black cat slipped through.
The path leading to the graves was treacherously slippery. The black cat had to extend its claws for grip.
Rows of snow-dusted headstones stood across the field, dotted with bright red, gold, and green patches of light from the church windows.
Dumbledore stopped at one particular spot.
The black cat leaped onto his shoulder and followed his gaze.
Below lay a dark headstone on frost-covered, moss-speckled granite. It read:
Kendra Dumbledore
and her daughter Ariana
Beneath the names was an inscription:
Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
"Have you seen her yet?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes never leaving the stone.
"Not yet. But my ghost friend Leta has."
The black cat's voice was quiet.
"And me?"
"The power of the Resurrection Stone hasn't fully recovered. You'll need to wait another month."
The black cat jumped down and transformed back into the young, handsome wizard.
"Oh, then let's have some afternoon tea first," Dumbledore said, sounding slightly distant. "Afterward, we'll go see her together. How does that sound, Mr. Green?"
He looked lost in thought. Otherwise, he would never have suggested going to see Ariana like this.
Sean nodded gently.
"Alright, Headmaster."
They made their way to the village pub.
Dumbledore ordered a bitter black tea with no sugar at all, but he asked for a cup of jasmine tea for Sean—loaded with sugar cubes.
"Aren't people happiest when they're approaching happiness?" Dumbledore asked suddenly.
"People are often most anxious precisely when happiness is within reach," Sean replied. "You don't need to do this."
Sean suddenly understood what Dumbledore intended.
He knew how the Headmaster planned to let him see Ariana.
"I only wanted you to meet her first, dear Mr. Green. Otherwise, how would you recognize her?
I thought my fear had died long ago. But it's still here. As long as she exists, so will it… Consider it an old man's selfish wish."
Dumbledore drifted back into that hazy state. Sean felt a pang of sympathy.
"You should trust me," Sean said.
"I do trust you, Mr. Green. Faithfully. It's myself I don't trust. Do I even deserve to see her? I…"
Dumbledore's voice trailed off into a whisper.
What choked him was love.
"The souls in the Borderland linger because of obsession," Sean said. "There's only one reason one soul can find another—they've been waiting for each other."
He thought of Ilvermorny's former Headmistress. He had never seen her again. Her journey had taken her too far, and her soul no longer waited.
"Go see her, Mr. Dumbledore. Just as she has been waiting for you. Unless there's no other choice, don't back down."
Sean finished quietly.