Life was a journey. Everyone was simply making their way along it, and at any moment, we might find ourselves taking a different fork in the road.
And such changes meant an entirely different world of the heart.
It might be beautiful, painful, exhausting, or thrilling. That was the meaning of life.
Magic was merely the manifestation of the heart, and it brought change all the same.
Take Anton's mentor, Severus Snape. He had gone from a gifted boy to a gloomy, lackluster young man, frozen in a day long past, with no more forward motion in his life.
But that had only been one stage. Snape had shouldered his pack once more and was strolling down a new path in life.
He was stepping into an even more brilliant and beautiful Magical World.
Anton was certain of it.
Magic had never seemed all that beautiful. The heart's wounds and all its other negative emotions were its finest nourishment. Nearly every wizard who reached the highest level was, without exception, deeply scarred within.
And the so-called positive forces—love, loyalty, or something else—would ultimately lead a wizard to destruction and death as well.
That was all there was to it.
That was also why Anton wouldn't try to push his family toward ever greater heights.
His family had all been so deeply wounded, so weary at heart.
Perhaps, for them, magic wasn't everything.
Young Wizards, on the other hand, had so many more possibilities ahead of them, and the vitality to bear whatever life might bring.
At that moment, every wizard and Muggle following the Top 100 Tournament, whether there in person or watching through a Magic Mirror, had their eyes fixed on Harry Potter atop the battered platform.
They were all eager to see what sort of reward the tournament