"Knowledge is only lost because it fails to follow the greater trend," Godric said, taking the initiative to comfort him. "When I was young, during my travels, I once heard an interesting tale—that in the past, the rulers of the world were not humans, but dragons and other magical creatures. Yet in the end, they gradually vanished, and humanity rose to dominance. That was the result of the greater trend."
Dumbledore and Gryffindor both fell silent. The only sound in the office was the murmuring of the headmasters in the portraits.
"Is that a phoenix?" Godric's attention was drawn to the large crimson bird perched on a branch behind the door.
Dumbledore nodded, telling him that it was his phoenix, Fawkes.
"Cool!" Upon learning that Dumbledore not only possessed a domain, could draw the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat, but also kept a phoenix as a pet, Godric was extremely pleased.
"Since you can take my sword from the Sorting Hat, that means you're a true Gryffindor," Godric said, continuing on his own.
The predecessor's sudden remark left Dumbledore a bit confused, but he decided to listen patiently.
"You've earned the sword's recognition, Albus—you are my heir," Gryffindor said, his tone turning serious.
Dumbledore was taken aback for a moment, then casually agreed.
He didn't know what the word "heir" truly implied. He assumed it wasn't much different from being called a "true Gryffindor."
"Then it's settled~ If you encounter the heirs of the other founders in the future, remember to reveal your identity!" Godric laughed heartily.
By Godric's rules, anyone recognized by the Sword of Gryffindor was his heir! As for when this rule had been established, there was no need to look into it. In any case, Godric was certain that Salazar knew nothing about how he chose his heirs.
Amid his hearty laughter, Godric's apparition gradually disappeared.
Only a lingering echo remained in the empty office—
[Albus, I urge you not to indulge in illusory apparitions and memories. It will do you more harm than good. The Resurrection Stone cannot truly bring the dead back to the world of the living. Return the ring to its rightful owner. Keeping it by your side will only bring you negative consequences.]
Feeling the lingering heat as Gryffindor faded away, Dumbledore let out a sigh.
He understood that what Gryffindor had said was correct. But not everyone had the courage to embrace what was right—even those known for their bravery, like Gryffindor, were no exception.
Holding the black gemstone on the ring, he raised it before his eyes and stared at it for a long time. At last, Dumbledore made his decision and placed it back onto the desk.
After doing so, he seemed to collapse, as if a tremendous burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Turning away, he struggled to resist the urge to look back at the Resurrection Stone ring once more.
Dumbledore wasn't confident he could suppress the impulse to put it back on his finger if he looked at it again.
"Fawkes, do me a favor." Dumbledore called out to his phoenix, who had been dozing. He asked Fawkes to return the Resurrection Stone ring to Professor White's office.
Though Fawkes did not understand Dumbledore's intent, he faithfully carried out his command.
A flash of red light passed, and Fawkes vanished along with the Resurrection Stone ring on the table.
Dumbledore couldn't help but think back to the Christmas holiday three years ago.
At that time, the newly enrolled Harry Potter had wandered through the castle under his father's Invisibility Cloak and, by sheer accident, discovered the Mirror of Erised.
As expected, Harry had become completely absorbed in the illusion created by the mirror. What had he said to him back then?
[It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put on that wonderful Cloak and get off to bed?]
So why was it that when it came to himself, he couldn't simply return to his bed and sleep peacefully?
It seemed he was regressing with age.
Shaking his head with a bitter smile, Dumbledore truly walked toward his bedroom. He didn't even know whether he should hope to see his sister in his dreams.
Helga and Rhys watched as a golden-red bird flew in through the window and dropped a black gemstone ring onto the ground.
"What a beautiful creature. The Dumbledore family truly lives up to its reputation." Helga looked at the departing phoenix with eyes full of envy—she wanted to raise one too.
"Perhaps only someone like Albus Dumbledore, who can overcome the desires in his own heart, can gain a phoenix's recognition?" Rhys's figure gradually became visible in midair.
"Are you saying I can't overcome my inner desires?"
"Helga, shouldn't your office be repaired? Leaving it collapsed like this isn't a solution. Want me to lend a hand?"
…
Deep within a dark cave, the surface of a pool filled with some unknown liquid bubbled continuously.
"There's no time left," Taurus said coldly.
His two companions had gone out last time to find a body for Voldemort and never returned. Later, he followed their traces and was ninety percent certain that both of them had already been killed.
Although Taurus was often infuriated by Gemini's words, after working together for so long, there had inevitably been some bond between them. The resentment from their deaths had nowhere to go, and in the end, it was directed at Voldemort.
This also made the relationship between him and Voldemort quite strained.
"Bone of the father, flesh of the servant, blood of the enemy…" A voice like a serpent's hiss echoed from the depths of the pool.
"I've already prepared everything for you." Taurus had long grown tired of Voldemort's rhetoric. After Voldemort had revealed some key information, he successfully obtained the three items needed for Voldemort's resurrection.
"You got Potter's blood?" A hint of excitement appeared in Voldemort's voice.
"No. But fortunately, your enemies are everywhere, so it didn't take much effort," Taurus shook his head.
Harry Potter was well protected. Obtaining his blood would be extremely difficult and would likely alert others. If it attracted Dumbledore, that would be troublesome.
"I need Potter's blood!" Voldemort snapped angrily.
"You don't have a choice." Taurus was extremely resolute and directly shot back.
Voldemort: "…"
Voldemort was a smart man. He understood the principle of bowing his head when under someone else's roof, and he knew that he wasn't particularly welcomed by this ascetic of the secret order. After a moment of contemplation, he gave in.
It wasn't that Voldemort absolutely needed Harry Potter's blood. His insistence on it was mainly to reclaim the dignity he had lost during his past defeat.
For him, defeating and killing Potter in front of his many followers was of great importance—it was the first step in rebuilding his authority.
But now he was under the secret order, his followers had long since scattered, and such persistence no longer seemed necessary.
"Fine."
In the end, Voldemort accepted the materials provided by Taurus.
The resurrection ritual began.
____
12 Chaps ahead at Patreon.com/HornyFBI