623: Finale, at this Hogwarts without Voldemort

Ian crossed the lawn and entered the Castle.

In the hall, four long tables were neatly arranged, candles floating overhead. The people in the portraits on the walls were chatting, some dozing, some playing chess, and some arguing. An Owl flew in through the window, landed on Ravenclaw table, and dropped a letter in front of a Girl. Ian walked up the stairs, through the corridor, and came to the door of a classroom. The door was open, and a class was in progress.

Flitwick stood on the platform, short in stature but with Sonorus. "Today we'll learn the Wingardium Leviosa. 'Wingardium Leviosa'— pay attention to the pronunciation, 'Wingardium Leviosa,' not 'Wingardium Leviosa.' The emphasis is on the 'Sa,' not the 'Vie.'" A Hufflepuff Girl raised her wand and pointed it at the feather on the table. " Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather floated gently. Flitwick clapped his hands, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Very good, very good! Bonus points, five points for Hufflepuff!"

Ian stood in the doorway, staring at that smile for a long time. In the original story, Flitwick had smiled too, but his smile always carried a hint of strain and weariness. Now it was different.

He continued walking.

As I passed the Potions Classroom, Slughorn was giving a lesson. He stood in the center of the classroom, his belly slightly bulging beneath his robes, a familiar smile on his face. "Today we're making the Hell Broth. Asphodel Root powder, Infusion of Wormwood, Sopophorous Bean —note that the Sopophorous Bean need to be pressed with a silver knife, not a copper knife, as it will ruin their potency."

Snape stood at the back of the classroom, his dark eyes scanning the students. His face was expressionless, but the oppressive atmosphere was much less intense than before. Ian glanced at him and walked past.

He walked to the door of the Headmaster's Office. Gargoyles stood on either side, motionless. Ian looked at them and remained silent for a second.

"Command?"

Sherbet Lemon.

The gargoyle jumped aside, revealing a spiral staircase behind it. Ian went up and pushed open the wooden door.

In his office, Dumbledore sat behind his desk, a cup of tea in his hand, reading a letter. Fawkes stood on a perch by the door, his golden feathers gleaming warmly in the sunlight. Seeing Ian enter, Dumbledore looked up, a smile flickering in his deep blue eyes. " Ian, you've come. Sit down."

Ian went in and sat down in the chair opposite the desk. "Principal."

Dumbledore put down the letter, picked up his teacup, and took a sip. "Did you need something?"

Ian looked at him. On that old, wrinkled face, there was no weariness, no anxiety, no heaviness from being worn down by war. Only calmness. Only gentleness. Only the composure that comes from seeing through everything.

"Nothing much," Ian said, "I just wanted to see you."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then smiled. "Look at me?"

Ian nodded without explaining. Dumbledore didn't press further, picked up his teacup, and continued drinking. The two sat quietly in the office for a while.

Fawkes let out a clear cry.

Ian stood up. "I'm leaving, Headmaster."

"Go ahead," Dumbledore waved his hand. "Come for dinner tonight; the kitchen says they have Pumpkin Pasties, which you like."

The corridors of Hogwarts were long, very long. Ian walked slowly, stopping to glance at each classroom he passed. Charms Class, Transfiguration Class, A History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts— every class was in session, every professor was teaching as usual, and every student was learning as usual. There was no fear, no oppression, no looming shadow of death.

This is the world he wanted.

Ian walked through the corridor, down the stairs, and arrived at the Castle gate. The sunlight shone on his face, warm and comforting. He stood there, gazing at the distant Black Lake, watching the shimmering ripples on its surface, and seeing the Giant Squid's tentacles slowly moving beneath the water's surface.

" Ian!"

He turned around.

A Girl ran across the lawn.

She had long, platinum blonde hair that shimmered silver in the sunlight. Her eyes were distinctive—one was deep blue, like the deep sea; the other was light gray, like the winter sky. Heterochromatic eyes, a mark of the Grindelwald Family bloodline.

Aurora Grindelwald.

She was wearing a Ravenclaw robe, carrying several books, and ran up to Ian, breathless but with a smile on her face. "What are you doing here? I've been looking for you for ages."

Ian looked at her and paused for a second. "Let's go for a walk outside."

Aurora tilted her head, a hint of doubt flashing in her heterochromatic eyes. "You don't look well. What's wrong?"

Ian shook his head. "Nothing. Just thinking about some things."

What are you thinking about?

Ian thought for a moment. "It's a wonderful world."

Aurora paused for a moment, then smiled. The smile was light and faint, but very sincere. "Why do you talk like an old person?"

Ian smiled too. She offered no explanation, no statement that she didn't know what the world had almost become, who Voldemort was, what the Death Eater were, the Great War of Azkaban, the stitched monsters, the Deep Space, or the forces that nearly devoured everything. She didn't need to know.

"Let's go, we're going to be late." Aurora tugged at his sleeve. " Professor Flitwick said that attendance will be taken in this class, and anyone who's absent will have twenty points deducted."

She pulled Ian along, leading him into the Castle.

The sunlight shone on the two people, casting long shadows.

In the corridor, other students were also hurrying along. Some were carrying textbooks, some were holding wands, and some were munching on bread as they walked. A Gryffindor boy was running too fast and bumped into a Hufflepuff girl. He quickly apologized and helped her pick up the book she had dropped. The girl blushed and said it was okay.

Everything was so ordinary.

Ian and Aurora walked down the corridor into the Charms Class classroom. Flitwick was standing at the podium, adjusting a teaching device. Seeing them enter, he nodded. "Sit down, class is about to begin."

The two walked to a seat by the window and sat down. Aurora spread the book out on the table and turned to the page they had last read. Ian looked at her, at the sky outside the window, at the Quidditch players training in the distance, and at the world he had risked his life to protect.

" Ian," Aurora whispered to him.

"Um?"

Are you really okay?

Ian looked at her, at those heterochromatic eyes, at those platinum blonde hair, at that young, vibrant face that had never experienced war.

"It's nothing," he said. "Really, it's nothing."

Aurora looked at him for a long time, then nodded. "That's good."

Flitwick clapped his hands, and the classroom quieted down. "Class, today we'll continue learning Summoning Charm. Last lesson we covered the theory; this lesson we'll practice. Who can tell me, what is the core of Summoning Charm?"

A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand. "It's willpower. You need a strong enough will to summon things."

"Correct! Ravenclaw, five points!" Flitwick waved his wand, and a row of various items appeared on the table—feathers, books, wands, a small alarm clock. "Now, everyone choose one item and try to summon it. Remember, the wand must be firm, the spell must be clear, and 'Accio' followed by the name of the item."

The students raised their wands. "Accio Feather!" "Accio Book!" "Accio Clock!" The feather flew up, the book flew up, and the clock flew up too. Some students succeeded on their first try, some tried several times, and some summoned things they shouldn't have. The classroom was in chaos, and Flitwick was having a great time.

Aurora raised her wand and aimed it at the small alarm clock on the table. "Accio alarm clock!"

The alarm clock wobbled and flew up to her, landing steadily in her hand. She turned to look at Ian, a smug smile on her face. "How was that?"

Ian smiled. "Not bad."

"Your turn."

Ian looked at the items on the table, then raised his wand. "Accio Feather."

The white feather floated up from the table, tracing a graceful arc in the air before landing in his palm. It was light and soft. He stared at the feather for a second.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the feathers, on his hands, and on Aurora's platinum blonde hair. Inside the classroom, the students were still practicing, the light from their wands shimmering in the air, and Flitwick's voice echoing in their ears.

Everything was so peaceful and beautiful.

Ian tucked away the feather, picked up the quill, opened his textbook, and began taking notes. Aurora glanced at him, a slight smile playing on her lips, and also opened her textbook. After afternoon classes ended, Ian didn't leave. He leaned against a pillar in the corridor, watching the younger students pour out of the classrooms. They clutched their textbooks, laughing and playing, like a flock of birds just released from their cages. A little boy with dark hair walked at the back, green eyes, a thin face, and no Lightning-shaped Scar on his forehead. Beside him was a red-haired boy with freckles all over his face, chattering incessantly. " Harry, wait for me!"

Harry turned around and looked at him helplessly. " Ron, you're too slow."

"It's not that it's slow, it's that there are too many books." Ron was carrying a stack of books, so many that they were about to fall off. Harry sighed and went over to help him divide them in half. The two walked side by side down the corridor, one with black hair and the other with red hair, looking exactly like the other students around them.

Ron suddenly lowered his voice. "Do you think Fred and George would really put Dungbomb in Snape's office?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But they said if Snape deducts Gryffindor points, then..."

Ron grinned. "He's in for it. Snape hates it when people touch his office."

The two men walked past Ian without noticing him. Ian looked at Harry, at his young, scarless face, for a second, then two seconds.

" Harry," he called to him.

Harry turned to look at him, a hint of confusion flashing in his green eyes. "Senior? You know me?"

Ian laughed. "I don't know him. I just wanted to say, you lost your homework."

He pointed to the ground. Harry looked down and saw a piece of Parchment lying at his feet. He quickly picked it up. "Thank you, senior." "You're welcome."

Harry nodded and pulled Ron along. Ron glanced back at Ian and whispered to Harry, "Who's that?" "I don't know. I don't think I've seen him before."

" Ravenclaw's?"

"Maybe so."

The two voices faded into the distance.

Ian stood there, watching their figures disappear at the end of the corridor.

Things are different now.

James Potter and Lily Potter are still alive. They live in Godric's Hollow; James works at the Ministry of Magic, Lily stays home to take care of the children. Harry returns home every Summer Vacation to play Quidditch with his father and learn to cook with his mother. Sirius Black often visits and takes Harry for rides on his flying motorcycle. Professor Lupin comes to tutor him.

An ordinary, happy family.

Ian turned and walked out of the Castle. On the lawn, a group of students were sunbathing, some were practicing spells, and some were playing Wizard Chess. A dark-haired girl flew through the sky on a broomstick, her long hair flying in the wind, her laughter clear and loud.

He recognized her— Narcissa's niece, Draco Malfoy's cousin. In the original timeline, her parents were killed by Voldemort, and she became an orphan, growing up with Bellatrix, becoming silent, gloomy, and filled with hatred. Now, her parents would take her to Diagon Alley to buy ice cream, her father would teach her to ride a broom, and her mother would make her breakfast before her exams.

Ordinary, trivial, and insignificant daily life.

But this is what Ian paid for with his life.

He sat on the lawn, leaning against the old locust tree, watching the students for a long time. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell warmly on him. The wind blew across the lawn, bringing the scent of fresh grass.

A group of First Year girls passed by him. One of them, with a ponytail, said, "My mom is picking me up next weekend, and we're going to see a play in London. Do you want to come along?"

"Great!" another girl replied excitedly, "I love watching plays!"

The girl with the ponytail smiled. "Then I'll ask my mom to buy a few more tickets."

Their voices faded into the distance.

Ian closed his eyes.

He thought of those who died in the war. He thought of those killed by Voldemort, tortured by the Death Eater, and those who lost hope in Azkaban. In the present timeline, they were all still alive. Their children would make friends at Hogwarts, discuss where to go on weekends, argue with their parents, and be sad about failing exams.

An ordinary, complete, and beautiful life.

He opened his eyes and looked at the sky. The sunlight was dazzling, but warm.

" Ian!" Aurora's voice came from afar.

He sat up straight and watched her run towards him from the direction of the Castle. Her platinum blonde hair shimmered silver in the sunlight, and her heterochromatic eyes held a hint of anxious worry.

What are you doing here? I've been looking everywhere for you.

Ian laughed. "Sunbathing."

Aurora sat down beside him, tilting her head to look at him. "You're acting really strange today."

What's strange about it?

"I can't quite put my finger on it," she thought for a moment, "It's like you haven't come back for a very, very long time."

Ian looked at her and didn't deny it. "Maybe."

Aurora didn't press the matter. She didn't actually know that Ian had disappeared, much less that he had traveled through Timeline, altered history, and defeated Voldemort's true form alongside two Legendary Wizard. All she knew was that this friend had gone on a long journey and returned somewhat different.

"Dinner's ready." She stood up, brushing the bits of grass off her clothes. "We've got Pumpkin Pasties today."

Ian stood up and walked with her toward the Castle.

Sunlight streamed down their bodies, casting long shadows. The Castle bells rang again—the dinner bells. Students poured into the hall from all directions.

Everything was ordinary, peaceful, and for a long time.

This is exactly what he wanted.

The sky outside the window is very blue, and the clouds are very white.

The Hogwarts bells rang.

This is Hogwarts without Voldemort.

Everything is different now.

Only Ian remembers.