Dumbledore's Burden

Sirius left Dumbledore's office looking utterly dejected.

Or rather, as though his soul had left his body.

Sirius could not believe that Dumbledore, once so kind, gentle, and compassionate as though he were the Virgin Mary herself, had seemingly become a different person today, suddenly displaying such a hardline, callous attitude toward life.

If he had not known it was absolutely impossible, Sirius would have suspected that the Dumbledore sitting across from him at the headmaster's desk today had been Tierra in disguise.

Meanwhile, after Sirius left the headmaster's office, Dumbledore, seated behind the desk, slowly dissipated like a phantom and drifting sand, revealing Tierra's true form.

"Sirius is gone."

Tierra extended a finger on his right hand and gently pressed it into the air.

A bright orange flame ignited where the bone showed at his fingertip.

Tierra's voice traveled far away, reaching the real Dumbledore.

"You certainly kept him occupied for a long time."

Dumbledore's aged voice came from the other end of the flame.

"Sirius is indeed far more stubborn than most people," Tierra said. "When will you return?"

"Oh, Tierra, I do not plan to return anytime soon," Dumbledore said from the other end of the flame. "I am old, too tired. Just as you said, I am about to die. Before that happens, I would still like to take a good look at this world. I have been besieged in this lonely fortress called Hogwarts for more than half a century. I want to go out for a walk, to see the beauty of the world, to see its ugliness, to see my elders, and to see my juniors. And, of course, to take a look at my future grave in advance."

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Tierra said heavily, "you know I have countless ways to extend your