A black cat opened its eyes in the bright mist.
The mist here was unlike any mist a wizard had ever seen.
It wasn't that the surrounding scenery was wrapped in vapor-like clouds—rather, those cloud-like vapors hadn't yet formed the surrounding scenery. The ground beneath the black cat's paws seemed white, neither hot nor cold, simply existing—flat, empty, blank.
It turned back and saw a large, dilapidated Victorian building standing there.
Around that great Victorian structure, a ruined street had gradually begun to stretch outward.
At first the street had been short, extending only to the cat's feet, but now it wrapped all the way around the building, and vague little shops had begun to appear.
The black cat stared for a while, curious, then lowered its gaze to its fluffy chest.
There was a tuft of silver-white fur there, along with a rune-stone whose outline was blurred.
Other than that, there was nothing else.
The black cat's disappointment was obvious.
The Resurrection Stone hadn't come in. Why?
If objects couldn't be brought into the Borderland, why was the Empty Talisman still here?
If objects could pass through into the Borderland, why not the Resurrection Stone?
The black cat was intensely curious, and it knew that perhaps someone here could answer those questions.
So it set off. As it ran with nimble grace, the little patch of silver-white fur on its chest seemed to grow larger—but not because there was more of it. Rather, the black cat itself was growing bigger.
Time in the Borderland also seemed slower. After who knew how long—
perhaps because the cat had traveled far enough, or perhaps because it had remained here long enough—
it saw several wooden houses.
Each one looked different, but they all shared one feature: each had a small door.
Sometimes there were words written on it: [Knock here while waiting for good luck]. Sometimes it simply said: [For the Lucky Black Cat Only].
The cloud-embroidered, ink-dark catopard felt puzzled. What were these?
What were these houses?
What had it done to make it start seeing more places where wizards seemed to gather, even though there were no wizards inside?
Even stranger, what were those words supposed to mean?
Lucky black cat… did that mean what it thought it meant?
The ink-dark, cloud-embroidered catopard shook its head and passed by in confusion.
After another stretch of travel, it arrived at a small house.
Smoke curled steadily from the chimney, and the little yard beside the wooden wall was blooming with flowers.
The ink-dark, cloud-embroidered catopard vanished, and a black cat naturally stepped into the front yard, passing by the unusual objects placed outside.
A rusted sword.
Some colorful plants.
An exquisite scepter.
The black cat walked into the garden. Copper-bottomed flower pots hung from upright pumpkin vines.
Curved ferns and trailing vines dangled from the pots, and when the black cat passed beneath them, they once again tried to comb its fur.
Observing all this, the black cat finally came to the wooden door. It raised a paw and knocked, pointedly ignoring the little door below and the sign reading [For the Black Cat Only].
It was a wizard, not a real cat.
The door creaked open.
Right in front of it stood a pine tree strung with little lights. Beneath it lay a fluffy orange rug, and on that rug sat round stools and a stuffed black cat toy.
"Green, it's so good to see you," Helena said in delight.
The black cat leapt onto one of the round stools. A teapot floated over and poured steaming pear juice into the round cup in front of it.
Steam blurred the black cat's whiskers, and its ears twitched.
Lady Helena seemed so much more alive now. Before, she would never have said something like that.
"You found us again. Looks like we ended up tied to another thread."
Ravenclaw was playing a peculiar kind of chess with Helena. Sean recognized it at a glance—it was Odd Wizard Chess.
Odd Wizard Chess—how had that gotten here?
"You lost. Looks like Ravenclaw's wisdom doesn't always work."
Helena laughed smugly. Ravenna's knight had just smacked her king away, and the king had fallen over shrieking, completely addled.
"What a failed king—his own knight wants to kill him…"
Rowena sighed.
"What I'm more curious about is who makes this kind of wizard chess, where wizards can do nothing but gamble on luck."
"Who knows?"
Helena stole a glance at the black cat and waved a hand, tidying up the pieces.
"Victory is so difficult, because luck is on your side, dear Helena," Rowena said, smiling as her expression softened.
"Now then, my student, dear lucky black cat—what question is there that even memory cannot answer?"
The black cat had already jumped onto the chessboard.
Yes, this was definitely Odd Wizard Chess.
"You look confused. Helena brought the chessboard here," said Rowena Ravenclaw.
"Professor Ravenclaw, can objects move freely through the Borderland?" the black cat asked.
"They cannot."
Rowena answered.
"Then…"
The black cat's tail stopped swaying.
"Look at your Empty Talisman. Is it really still an Empty Talisman?"
Rowena smiled mischievously.
The black cat hurriedly looked at its soul artifact.
"Isn't it shaped like a little cat?"
Rowena's smile widened.
The black cat rubbed its eyes with a paw in shock and found that the Empty Talisman really had changed shape.
"You trust her too much!"
Helena interrupted Rowena, and at the same time the Empty Talisman shifted back into a stone tablet.
"This isn't funny."
The black cat seemed to understand something. It curled up and stared at the talisman.
"She loves teasing people… isn't she terribly annoying…"
Helena sat down beside the black cat.
"Green, let me tell you this: if you firmly believe an object exists, it will be brought into the Borderland."
The black cat's ears twitched.
"So if you waver, the Borderland will confiscate your magic."
Helena explained slowly.
"I understand, Helena."
The black cat's suspicion was confirmed.
It couldn't help recalling the rare description from canon about the Borderland:
"Harry wished he had clothes. The instant the thought formed, robes appeared nearby. He picked one up and put it on. It was soft, clean, and warm. How strange—it had just appeared, the moment he thought of it…"
What a remarkable place.
Perhaps the most magical place of all.
A wizard's wisdom and emotions flowed naturally here, turning into bizarre, dreamlike clusters of mist;
a wizard's magic was transformed completely into the power of belief. When a wizard believed in themself, when their conviction was firm, magic came into being from that.
"So how am I supposed to believe?"
The black cat realized that was the final question.
~~~
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