Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 471, page 469: A New Day

"It's strange that a wizard's mouth can't speak."

The black cat jumped onto the table.

What do you think they should say?

Rita laughed.

"To say what was left unsaid."

The black cat disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Rita watched it pass through the wooden door and leap toward the fireplace, feeling inexplicably bewildered.

The black cat appeared when she lingered in the kitchen, holding a steaming pumpkin pie and standing blankly by the cupboard.

The snow outside had fallen silently, and the pale pink halo blurred the dream.

The black cat is like a messenger of the night, bringing twilight back with it.

The black cat's tail was wagging, and then she realized that the ground beneath her feet was shifting.

This is the black cat's magic, but she also knows that magic is a precious and rare thing in the borderlands.

It is rare for a wizard to still carry magic in the border region.

She was sent away, and in that twilight, she felt as if she had walked into a sea of ​​night, and someone had asked her to retrieve the lost stars.

“I have never hated you, Rita.”

Newt spoke, and it seemed that uttering those few words had exhausted all his strength.
"I did it voluntarily, and I forgive you no matter what your concerns are. You should know that I always forgive you without reservation."

Reality can be a dream that requires constant caution, while dreams can be a reality where one can be carefree and bold.

The black cat merely illustrated Leta's state of mind in New York, and the silent Mr. Newt suddenly realized what he should say.

"Why, Newt? You don't hate me, yet you comfort me?"

Rita felt completely lost for the first time.

"Because nothing hurts me more than your unhappiness."

Newt said.

The two fell silent, and the black cat could only hear the soft sound of snow falling outside.

"I miss you so much, Rita."

Newt concluded.

These were his last words, as he was not good with words.

The fog outside thickened, and the black cat knew that the border area was about to drive them away.

Newt and Leta also realized it.

Newt began to panic and feel uneasy; he was always filled with fear at times like this.

Winter in the border region is too slow; some words, like glaciers breaking apart, fall into the deep sea, and it may take a century to hear their muffled thud at the bottom.

The fog was so thick that Newt couldn't see the other person's face clearly, so thick that Newt had to look directly at them.

He could no longer hide.

Newt heard the floorboards creaking, like something was running;

Newt heard the sounds growing more frequent and closer;

Newt was stunned.

Something pressed against him, carrying a warm body temperature and a rich, rose-like fragrance.

Something cold dripped onto his neck, tickling him and inexplicably reminding him of the perpetually frozen surface outside.

"Thank you."

He heard someone talking.

He tried hard to hear clearly, wanting to remember this moment forever.

But it was a bit too late; the border region wasn't very welcoming to outsiders like him.

Newt lowered his head, and in his final moments, he could only let some of the sediment turn into water droplets and fall to the ground.

He suddenly opened his eyes. The wooden house was still the same wooden house, but the three cats had become one. Its black fur was stained with white snow, and a stone slab-like object on its chest emitted a faint glow.

It forcefully suppressed the fog.

The two people in the cabin embraced again after nearly a century. When they parted, they knew that nothing could ever separate them again.

The border region has both dusk and dawn, but it is never pitch black; it is always white and shrouded in mist.

“We will meet again in a place where there is no darkness,” Rita said.

And so the world turned upside down again, and the wizard who was lost in his dream had to eventually return to reality.

Dorsetshire.

The aged Newt stared blankly at the faintly brightening horizon.

Something sprang from the depths of his heart, sometimes like a coiled little snake casting spells in the deep snow, sometimes like a gentle dove cooing softly on the white window.

He picked up a notebook from the table, its pages filled with the image of a black cat. He decided to name the book "Dreams and Gods," and inevitably, without even realizing it, he considered perfecting it the last important task of his life.

"A black cat that traverses the boundary between life and death, a dream master who appears and disappears in the mist..."

I've always believed it secretly watches over the wizard's wishes; perhaps it's unaware, but it always brings good luck to the wizard...

Ancient wizarding legends are not entirely false, and the source of the dream story ultimately points to a talking black cat.

And those things shut out by daylight will ultimately be revealed to us by the black cat of dreams.

Newt was writing the preface to the book when he turned his head and could see that it was drizzling in Scotland.

From sparse to magnificent, it falls to the ground, touches the earth, and returns to the sky when the sun rises.

It briefly eloped with the earth.

Although dawn will always break, the night is long enough.

……

Border area.

Only a black cat and a beautiful witch remain here.

The fog may drive away guests, but it won't drive away the host so quickly.

The black cat always manages to stay a little longer than the guests it invites.

Just as it said, this is its dream.

But the black cat can't control when the dream ends.

Just like now, a wisp of mist suddenly thickened, and it left behind unpredictably.

Rita wasn't disheartened; she continued tidying up the broken shop window, listening to the sound of snow falling outside.

She repaired the wooden door and threw away the broken bowl.

She would occasionally glance at the wooden table and see the cat wrestling with pumpkin pie in the glow of the fireplace.

Its white whiskers were stained with sweet pumpkin juice, and it waved its claws, directing the knife and fork.

She smiled brightly, like the pure Gabriel outside.

She brushed the crumbs away from the black cat and let it rest on her shoulder.

On this bright day, she laid down everything.

She burned her regrets, and her dreams became transparent; she threw away yesterdays, and her steps became light.

She moved through the garden, busily pruning the branches of the blooming Gabriel.

A hummingbird landed on a honeysuckle flower.

There is nothing in this world that she wants to possess.

She knew there was no one she could envy.

She had forgotten any of the misfortunes she had suffered.

The thought that she was the same person as she is now doesn't make her feel embarrassed.

The pain had miraculously disappeared from her body.

Straightening up, she saw the blue sea and sails.

The cat seemed to be asleep on her shoulder; it looked sleepy after finishing the pumpkin pie.

Rita knew that suppressing the fog had taken a lot of effort from the Messenger of Good Fortune.

And so, in the midst of this mundane daily life, she suddenly touched upon fragments of eternity and happiness.

She slept exceptionally well that night.

After all, tomorrow is another day.

　There's another chapter in 3K tomorrow morning.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)