Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 478, Section 476: The Story of the Bees

This is a bright valley.

The babbling brook flows across the verdant fields, bathed in sunlight that melts and coats the land like honey.

The air was filled with the aroma of grass mixed with the scent of baked goods wafting from the wizard's kitchen, and the sweetness of wild apple trees on the distant hillside.

A ginger cat lay sprawled on the wall, its belly rising and falling with its breath.

"It's almost there."

"Dumbledore said slowly."

Behind him, a young wizard in a black robe was thinking that Headmaster Dumbledore had sneaked out of Hogwarts again. No wonder Professor McGonagall always complained unintentionally.

He looked up and saw that he and Headmaster Dumbledore were standing in an old alleyway, under a bright summer sky with lazy clouds drifting by. Houses lined the narrow lane, their windows gleaming with Christmas decorations. A short distance ahead, golden streetlights indicated the center of the village.

Sheen knew where he was.

Godric Valley.

A village located in one of the western counties of England.

The History of Magic describes it as follows:

Since the International Law on Secrecy was signed and came into effect in 1689, wizards have gone into complete secrecy.

Perhaps naturally, they formed their own small communities within the community.

Many small villages attracted several wizarding families, who then united to help and protect each other.

Wizarding families lived in communities in Dingworth, Cornwall; Upper Frigley, Yorkshire; and Autry St Catchpol on the south coast of England, among tolerant Muggles who were sometimes under the spell of confusion.

Among these semi-wizard settlements, perhaps the most famous is Godric's Valley.

This southwestern village is the birthplace of the great wizard Godric Gryffindor and the place where the wizarding goldsmith Bowman Wright crafted the first Golden Snitch.

The graveyard is inscribed with the surnames of an ancient wizarding family, which is undoubtedly the reason why the chapel has been the subject of numerous ghost stories for centuries.

"Oh, isn't it amazing? Decades have passed, and it's still the same as I remember, only without a few wizards..."

Dumbledore walked along the path lined with wildflowers, his tone relaxed.

Do you know where this is?

“Godrick Valley, Principal.”

Sheen replied.

“You’re right. Let’s hurry, before Minerva realizes we’re missing… We need to get to the cemetery…”

Dumbledore quickened his pace; although the old headmaster was over a hundred years old, he was surprisingly healthy.

Perhaps it's because, according to the way wizards calculate age, the old headmaster is only middle-aged.

This led to a situation where Sheen had to jog to catch up with Dumbledore, so he simply leaped into the air and transformed into a black cat that flitted among the fields and flowers.

Dumbledore glanced silently at the black cat, a long-lost mischievous glint in his eyes.

Turning left along the path, they came to the center of the village—a small square.

In the center of the square stands a war memorial-like building, half-hidden behind pine trees swaying in the wind, surrounded by colorful lights.

There are several shops, a post office, a bar, and a small chapel, with stained glass windows radiating a jewel-like brilliance across the square.

The grass was compacted: the ground was hard and slippery after being trampled all day.

Villagers crisscrossed in front of them, gently illuminated by the streetlights.

Occasionally, someone would stare at Dumbledore in surprise and quickly cover their mouth; others would come up and greet the old headmaster warmly and sincerely, but their eyes would well up with tears as they turned away.

Dumbledore greeted everyone with a smile—male wizards, female wizards, young wizards, old wizards… Although Dumbledore hadn’t returned for decades, it seemed that the people here still recognized him.

The black cat heard bursts of laughter and pop music coming from the bar when the door opened and closed, and then heard hymns being sung from the chapel.

There was a narrow door at the entrance to the cemetery. Dumbledore pushed it open as gently as possible, and the black cat jumped inside.

It must be said that the path leading to the cemetery entrance was really slippery; even the black cat's claws were sticking out.

Rows of snow-covered tombstones stood in the field, interspersed with dazzling red, gold, and green speckles of light—the projections of stained glass windows onto the snow. Dumbledore stopped in one spot.

The black cat jumped onto his shoulder and looked in the direction he was looking:
Below is a dark stone tablet, carved on icy, moss-covered granite, with the name Kendra Dumbledore, his birth and death dates, and his daughter Ariana below.

There is also a proverb:

The heart follows the treasure.

"You've seen her?"

Dumbledore was speaking, but his eyes never left the graveyard.

"Not yet, but my ghost friend Rita has seen her."

"The black cat said."

"And me?"

"Dumbledore asked."

"The power of the Soul Artifact has not yet been restored; you will have to wait a month."

The black cat leaped and transformed into a young, handsome wizard.

“Oh, how about we go have afternoon tea, and then we go see her together? What do you think, Mr. Green?”

Dumbledore looked somewhat lost in thought.

Otherwise, how could he have suggested going to see Ariana together?

But Sheen nodded:
"Yes, Principal."

So the two set off and arrived at the tavern.

Dumbledore ordered a cup of bitter black tea without a single sugar cube, but he ordered Sheen a cup of jasmine tea filled with sugar cubes.

"Do people always feel happiest when they are approaching happiness?"

Dumbledore suddenly asked.

"People are always anxious and worried when they are on the path to happiness."

Sheen said,
“You don’t need to do that.”

Sheen suddenly understood.

He knew how Headmaster Dumbledore was going to get him to see Ariana.

"I just wanted you to meet her beforehand, dear little Green, otherwise how would you know it was her?"

I thought my fear was dead. But it's still there, and as long as it's there, it will always be there... Consider it fulfilling an old woman's wish.

Dumbledore once again entered that dazed state, and Sheehan felt a pang of pity.

"You should trust me."

Sheen said.

“I believe in you faithfully, Mr. Green. But I don’t believe in myself. Do I still deserve to see her? I…”

Dumbledore murmured, then his words abruptly ceased.

What choked him was love.

“The souls at the border wander because of their obsession. There is only one reason why one soul can find another soul—they are waiting for each other.”

Sheehan thought of Iphamoni's old headmistress, whom he hadn't seen since.

Because her adventure was too far, her soul no longer lingered and waited.

"Go to see her, Mr. Dumbledore, as if she has been waiting for you all along. Do not back down unless you have no other choice."

Sheen said.

(End of this chapter)