Dumbledore staggered up to Ariana, whose appearance was forever frozen at fourteen. Tears streamed down his face as his trembling arm reached out, wanting to touch the pure, flawless smile on the young girl's face.
But when his fingertips were only two inches from Ariana's cheek, they recoiled as if shocked.
His tear-filled eyes brimmed with sorrow.
"I'm sorry, Ariana, I'm sorry—"
Dumbledore choked out.
"Can you forgive me, Ariana? Forgive the foolish mistake I made."
Ariana smiled gently, infinite love shining in her clear eyes as they reflected Dumbledore's aged face.
"I never blamed you, Albus—"
At those words, Dumbledore broke down sobbing.
Even Amosta, standing some distance behind Dumbledore, felt a chill run through him.
"Headmaster Dumbledore?"
Amosta called out sharply, but Dumbledore seemed to truly see something—to be speaking with someone—and was completely deaf to his call!
Amosta cast a piercing gaze in the direction Dumbledore was looking, straining his eyes to the utmost.
But aside from the drifting gray mist, he could see nothing!
"Headmaster Dumbledore?"
Things were getting out of control. Amosta grabbed Dumbledore's raised arm and pulled him back, making him stumble.
Yet that still did not restore Dumbledore to his senses. The old man, trapped in inescapable grief, continued mumbling his apologies and ignored Amosta's calls!
Amosta pressed his lips together and forced himself to calm down.
Dumbledore had likely truly seen something.
The thought flashed through Amosta's mind. Moreover, what he had seen was not entirely an illusion, but something that genuinely existed.
With his formidable mental strength, enough to barely condense a domain, he could indeed sense a third soul fluctuation nearby, apart from his own and Dumbledore's powerful souls.
It was extremely weak, weaker even than a Muggle's soul. He had previously spent considerable effort studying the Blood Curse, consuming