"I didn't quite understand."
Hermione looked at the old wizard before her, his beard and hair both white, and felt a chill seep into her heart. The bustle and clamor of the Great Hall seemed to be happening somewhere very far away, forming a stark contrast with the scene before her eyes and giving her a powerful sense of unreality.
Yet her hand tightened unconsciously around the Golden Pocket Watch, her fingertips turning slightly white from the force. She murmured, "What do you mean, he isn't a wizard from this world? Do you mean he's so powerful that he's not from the same world as a weak wizard like me? Or that he comes from the East and isn't a wizard from our Europe?"
Dumbledore looked at the Little Witch before him with pity in his eyes.
He was unsure whether she truly had not understood his explanation, or simply did not want to understand. But some things could not be made non-existent by burying one's head in the sand like a frightened ostrich.
His fingers flicked lightly, and the faint, hazy light surrounding them grew denser. To others, it might merely seem that they were standing too far away in poor lighting, making their figures appear somewhat blurred. Any wizard wishing to approach Professor Dumbledore for a conversation, however, would have their attention immediately diverted by someone else upon nearing that patch of hazy light, then unconsciously wander elsewhere.
"Farther than any distance you understand."
After strengthening the shielding ward around them, Dumbledore raised his head toward the Great Hall's ceiling. Looking at the Starry Sky, as deep as the sea yet lonelier still, he spoke softly. "Farther than the distance between us and the stars... even farther than the distance between life and death."
The girl let out