The boundary realm—the world behind the veil, the place Merlin once walked.
Whatever the name, it expressed both the mystery of this place and the powerful magic it undoubtedly contained.
At this moment, a black cat walked here, around the dilapidated Victorian buildings.
The surroundings had originally been empty and white, but now there was a short stretch of street extending outward.
The black cat walked down the street, curiously gazing at puddles that had appeared.
Transparent puddles clearly reflected a world wrapped in mist.
The black cat looked up, whiskers trembling. Behind it, transparent fog churned, and some "thread balls" were pulled forward as if by someone, appearing before the black cat.
It could see these thread balls were different sizes, radiating circles of mist. At the rippling center of the mist, the black cat could see wizards' dreams.[1]
In the three largest thread balls: Professor McGonagall sat in a chair by a sunlit rice field, a gentle breeze blowing. The corner of McGonagall's mouth lifted in a serene smile as she quietly watched a black cat leaping and trying to catch butterflies.
Professor Snape's thread ball showed almost nothing. His dream was very deep—the black cat could only occasionally see a cat and a deer running past.
Justin's dream was more straightforward. He saw himself waving his wand, blocking Voldemort from going on a killing spree.[1]
The black cat walked past these thread balls and came to several larger ones.
It could recognize these as Hermione, Neville, Harry, Ron, and the professors. Sean even saw Headmaster Dumbledore—his dream was also very blurred, as if he were alone.
When Sean gazed at the headmaster, Dumbledore suddenly turned around, looking at the black cat with a smile of discovered delight: "Mr. Green, won't you invite me in for tea?"
The startled black cat's fur stood on end. It paused for a second, then pulled the intrigued old wizard out.
"So glad to see you in a dream. The children in the castle haven't been spreading rumors about dreams lately—I thought you'd gotten tired of playing," the old wizard in purple robes said naturally as he walked in and sat on a newly appeared bench. "I don't remember there being a chair here—nice progress, Mr. Green."
The black cat nodded. It seemed to think of something, so its tail separated into a small ball that churned in the deep mist and quickly transformed into a cup of heavily sugared black tea.
"Looks like you haven't forgotten my taste. Have I mentioned how thoughtful you are?" The old wizard took the steaming black-cat-shaped teacup, his smile impossible to suppress.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," the black cat greeted.
The headmaster's words reminded it—this was its boundary realm, and also its dream.
If that was the case, then transforming a cup of black tea shouldn't be difficult.
Then it looked at its tail, seeming curious:
What else could it transform? And why were the mist balls separating from its tail?
"Just call me Albus here, Sean," Dumbledore said, taking a sip of tea. The sweet taste felt as real as if he weren't dreaming.
He seemed to think of something, his expression deepening: "Of course, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live—"
The black cat keenly sensed something. It knew Dumbledore had been to the boundary realm before.
The headmaster had reminded him he could shape dreams. So had Dumbledore already used this function?
This made the black cat stop thinking further. It clearly knew how deep a wound false, fleeting happiness could carve into someone living through shameful days.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I need to experience two seven-hour periods before time moves toward the edge of dawn. Is there any way to shorten this process?" the black cat asked, standing on a mist ball.
"There's no way," Dumbledore said with a smile. Seeing the black cat's ears droop, he continued, "Unless—"
"What?" the black cat asked quickly.
"You have a friend who just arrived at the boundary realm. If it loves you, perhaps you could find a path to it.
You know, souls gather—" Dumbledore winked.
The method he proposed was just an amusing speculation.
Adventures after death were more spectacular than they imagined, and the boundary realm was more boundless than they thought.
Souls that just arrived at the boundary realm couldn't be found after a while, let alone souls that seekers might want to see near them.
"Would a ghost work?" the black cat asked unexpectedly.
"A ghost?" Dumbledore chuckled. Perhaps because he was in the boundary realm, he was more "honest" than at Hogwarts.[1]
"A ghost lady who just arrived at the boundary realm," the black cat said seriously.
"Well then, ghosts. So, Mr. Black Cat of Good Fortune, look at the mist around you—" Dumbledore's smile froze slightly.
The black cat paused. After hearing Dumbledore's teasing, its tail twitched irritably.
"Ms. Isobel Thayer—she said she had a wandering family member waiting for her."
After a few seconds, it said while searching through its balls, finally finding one in a corner that wasn't large but had very thick mist threads.
It didn't notice the old wizard's expression changing repeatedly.
"Quickly, Sean," Dumbledore said, watching the mist rise around them with a hint of panic.
"Found it—" The black cat had just looked up when it saw Dumbledore sigh helplessly: "Well, Sean, I've waited decades. I suppose waiting a bit longer doesn't matter.
What matters is hope—that's more precious than treasure."
Dumbledore glanced back once more, then disappeared into the mist.
This time, the black cat saw his dream clearly.
Dumbledore was in a modest cottage. A very old wizard was directing a hammer to repair the house. A kind woman watched him, holding a pretty young witch in her arms. Beside her, an impatient-looking male wizard was handing over his Christmas gift, and Dumbledore slowly accepted the pair of woolen socks.
The scene flashed by, fragile as a soap bubble.
The black cat turned its head, tail drooping slightly.
It gave a low purr and once again advanced into the vast whiteness of the boundary realm.
A thread ball floated beside it, following its movements and guiding its path.
After who knows how long, the black cat nimbly passed through countless dangerous mist clusters. Then it could no longer see the dilapidated Victorian building.
And at that very moment, it sensed that Ms. Isobel Thayer was not far away.[1]