Countless chaotic flashes of light swam before Amosta's eyes, dazzling him. Yet in the very next instant, his feet touched solid ground.
His formidable mental strength suppressed the dizziness Apparition inflicted on the body, and the discomfort of materializing after crossing such a vast distance vanished within a single breath.
Turning to look at Dumbledore beside him, Amosta could not help but feel a trace of admiration.
Though already more than a hundred years old, Dumbledore appeared equally unruffled, showing little sign of strain.
The crisp air flowed into his nostrils, invigorating Amosta. He let his gaze wander across the vast landscape. On the horizon, a dim yellow moon hung in the early night sky.
"I'm afraid we'll need to walk a little farther—"
Dumbledore seemed to be in good spirits. He let out a long breath and stepped forward with a smile.
The heavy moisture in the air had soaked the soil beneath their feet. Every step left a clear footprint in the earth.
Amosta followed Dumbledore up the slope for a short while. After rounding a tall clump of bushes, his view suddenly became clearer.
They stood along the ridge of a long, gently sloping hill. The open vista allowed Amosta to take in all the surrounding scenery.
In the direction of the rising moon stood a large manor on the ridge of a mountain range parallel to the one beneath their feet, leaving Amosta momentarily speechless.
"Little Hangleton?"
Amosta narrowed his eyes at the old manor in the distance, surprise tinging his voice.
"That's right. That house belonged to old Tom Riddle. Have you been here before, Amosta?"
Dumbledore was also looking at the manor. He pressed down the silver beard that had curled up and obscured his vision, asking softly, though he did not seem particularly