Southwestern England, Godric's Hollow. This quiet little village was quite famous in the wizarding world, because Godric Gryffindor, one of the original founders of Hogwarts, had been born here. Members of the Peverell family were also buried here, the family that had possessed the Cloak of Invisibility, one of the Deathly Hallows.
In the previous century, Dumbledore and his family had lived here in seclusion, and this village had witnessed the friendship between two remarkable young wizards. Dumbledore's sister Ariana had also met her end here.
Twelve years ago, Voldemort came here and murdered the Potters. Even now, there was still a monument in the square at the center of the village, commemorating the unfortunate Potter family.
James Potter would never forget how he returned to the world.
He passed through the long veil of death and saw the young man holding the Resurrection Stone smile at him. For an instant, James felt as if he had seen Death itself.
"I thought you'd be wearing a hooded robe and carrying a scythe. At least, that's how The Tale of the Three Brothers puts it. But I suppose seeing is believing. So then, Lord Death, where are you planning to take me?"
Skyl did not know whether to laugh or cry. "Please look carefully. I'm a living person."
"Huh? Then I'm really sorry. My mistake. Who are you? Where am I?"
James's soul looked around. This was the living room of his house. Thin ivy tendrils had reached in through the gaps around the doors and windows. The floor was spotless, clearly having been cleaned. All the furniture had been pushed tightly against the walls, leaving an open space in the middle for a huge cauldron.
"I'm Skyl. Just call me Skyl. Mr. James Potter, I heard that you have extraordinary attainments in Charms and alchemy. As it happens, Hogwarts is carrying out a secret project and needs the assistance of a wizard with exceptional skills like yours." The transfer student gave a polite nod. "In exchange, I can resurrect you perfectly and let you once again set foot upon the land of the living."
James's expression turned rather strange. He muttered, "Resurrection? Is that real? Are wizards this powerful now? Speaking of which, how many years have I been dead?"
"It is now 1993."
"Then that's twelve years. Merlin's beard, that's not too long." A trace of sadness flashed across James's face. "Skyl, do you know about my wife, Lily? Did she survive?"
"Unfortunately, she did not survive Voldemort's attack. However, your son Harry is still alive. Clearly, Mrs. Potter's love became a protective spell that rebounded the Killing Curse onto Voldemort and blasted him into a remnant soul. That is how the Boy Who Lived came to be."
James cursed Voldemort as a no-nosed bastard, then thanked Merlin for Harry's survival. Finally, he pleaded, "Then resurrect Lily. She was actually an incredible witch too, proficient in Charms and alchemy. I can guarantee she knew every bit as much as I did."
Skyl kept a stern face so he would not laugh, then said seriously, "That won't do, Mr. Potter. But look on the bright side. As long as you are resurrected, you can think of a way to steal your wife back from Death."
The suggestion immediately lifted James's spirits. He nodded repeatedly and said, "I accept your deal."
"I also need to remind you that before Hogwarts' secret work is completed, you cannot expose your true identity, so as not to cause unnecessary panic. If your identity is exposed, our agreement ends there." Skyl put on an impersonal look.
"That sounds a bit strange, but still reasonable enough. I agree."
James watched as Skyl tossed a small piece of finger bone into the enormous cauldron. Then the potion inside began to boil.
"In Celtic legend, there is such a chief god." As Skyl controlled the resurrection ritual in the cauldron, he explained to James, "His name was the Dagda, and he possessed a magical cauldron that could pour out food without end. The Mabinogion also records a miraculous cauldron that could resurrect the dead."
James nodded. "I've heard of that. So this cauldron is the legendary Cauldron of the Dagda?"
"No. I merely cast some magic on the cauldron. This is also a necessary part of the resurrection ritual."
"I'll remember that."
The cauldron bubbled and sent up steaming mist. Then a newly born human body rose from beneath the boiling surface.
"Go on," Skyl urged. "This body can be considered original stock, even the genes are exactly the same. But I guarantee it will work better than your old body. Brand-new, no wear and tear."
James exclaimed in amazement, "I thought I already understood magic. This is what a miracle really looks like." He leapt into the cauldron. The instant he touched the boiling potion, he felt a coldness that seemed to freeze his soul, giving him the illusion that he was crossing the River Styx. In a daze, James saw a hunched old man in a hood flickering in and out of view inside the mist. The man held a huge scythe, trying to hook the dead soul away, yet he could not touch James no matter what he did.
The dead soul and the newborn body fused together. All the potion evaporated completely, and the illusion of the River Styx before his eyes shattered and vanished.
James climbed out over the edge of the cauldron, and Skyl threw a bathrobe over him just in time.
"You might not believe this, but I really did see Death just now."
"I believe you," Skyl replied casually. "That Death doesn't like me very much. But don't worry about him making trouble."
The transfer student winked at the reborn James Potter and said gently, "Because he can't beat me."
"I don't know why, but you actually make people feel pretty safe. By the way, how old are you?" James planted his hands on his hips and looked around the sorrowful house. For a moment, grief passed through him, but he immediately rallied.
"Somewhere between eighteen and one trillion years old." Skyl shrugged. "What are your plans next? How about we go to Diagon Alley first and buy you some things? But you can't go out with that face."
The wizard waved his hand before James's eyes, and James's sharp, handsome appearance immediately became ordinary. His messy black hair turned gray, and his hazel eyes became sea-blue.
"Mm, much better. Now there's no need to worry about Snape recognizing you."
"Snape? That Snivellus?"
Skyl smiled oddly. "Yes. Hogwarts' Potions professor. For the next while, you two will become close colleagues."
"Merlin's stinking socks, I'd rather go back to my grave." James held his forehead and groaned.
"Think of your wife. She is still waiting in the underworld for you to save her."
As soon as those words came out, James's eyes instantly became determined.
On the second floor of the White Tower, the newly arrived James Potter stared intently at the image inside the magnifying lens, while Dumbledore pointed out the ganglia that needed to be cut. The scene was a bit like a group of doctors gathered around an operating table discussing a treatment plan, except doctors wore white coats, while these wizards looked more like medieval plague doctors.
"Be clean and decisive. Don't hesitate," Professor Flitwick said from the side, unable to relax and still giving guidance.
"Let's get this straight first. What happens if I cut it wrong?" Surrounded by so many professors, James was not nervous at all and still had the leisure to joke.
The old bat said in a tone neither warm nor cold, "Then you'll waste a bottle of Essence of Dittany."
"You're in charge of brewing potions." James shrugged.
"That's right. So you'd better not increase my workload."
Flitwick comforted him. "Don't mind Severus too much. He's just a little serious."
James smiled and said, "I'll do my best to be considerate of him." He took out his wand, pointed it at the magnifying lens, and chanted, "[Diffindo]."
In the image, hundreds of ganglia snapped at once.
"Precise!" Flitwick applauded him.
"Minerva," Dumbledore reminded her. "Now."
Before the Celestial cells could heal themselves, Professor McGonagall cast Transfiguration and reconnected the cut ends in a specific order, creating a new neural circuit.
James said excitedly, "This isn't that hard."
"Being motivated is a good thing, Mr. Harker," Professor Gellert said with a beaming smile. "Then let us complete the neural network structure of Region A0004 before dawn."
"Piece of cake!"
The professors around him all looked at the newcomer with pity.
That night, James cast [Diffindo] more than fourteen hundred times. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore took turns casting Transfiguration, while he fought alone. When sunlight shone in the next morning, James's eyes had already gone numb.
"I… I want to go back to my grave…" He shook his aching head, then encouraged himself. "No. For Lily, I have to hold on."
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