At the highest point of Hogwarts, in the Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore stood before his Pensieve. Silver-white memory mist slowly swirled and rose from the basin. It showed the scene in the Forbidden Forest three days ago.
He had watched it dozens of times already.
That deadly green light—the genuine Avada Kedavra, cast by Voldemort's Soul Fragment itself—had struck Ryan Lin squarely in the back.
And then it had simply... disappeared.
Like a drop of water merging into the sea.
Confusion flickered in Dumbledore's eyes, nearly overflowing.
He had lived for more than a century and seen more strange and wondrous things than there were books in the library, but he had never seen—or even heard of—anything like this.
Lily's love had formed an ancient blood magic that protected Harry.
It was the magic of sacrifice, the power of love.
But what about Ryan Lin?
There was no blood connection, no sacrifice to serve as a condition.
He had simply stood there and absorbed a Killing Curse with his own body, like a sponge.
This wasn't any known form of magic. It wasn't recorded anywhere.
"Fawkes," Dumbledore said softly, turning to the phoenix perched on its gilded stand. His voice held a trace of weariness. "What do you think happened?"
The beautiful phoenix tilted its head and gave a clear, gentle cry, as if to comfort him.
"I know, I know. We shouldn't pry into every secret." Dumbledore gave a wry smile, picked up a Lemon Drop from the desk, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. "But this secret is no small matter. Voldemort's most powerful weapon failed in front of him. What does that mean? It means this boy, Ryan Lin, may be... the greatest unknown in this war."
He walked to the window and looked out over