Dawn pressed his lips together.
He knew all too well how dangerous it was to return to his original appearance inside Hogwarts Castle, on Dumbledore's territory.
Yet after a brief hesitation, he still cast a shielding charm over the office, dispelled the disguise of Leia Hickman, and reverted to the childlike form with crimson pupils.
"Just as I thought. My darling looks cutest like this."
The woman's eyes overflowed with tenderness as she reached out to pinch Dawn's cheek.
But her illusory fingers passed through his flesh once again, and she sighed with regret.
Dawn awkwardly turned his head away. He couldn't bring himself to say the word "Mom" and could only stiffly ask, "Don't you have anything you want to ask me?"
"Ask what?"
The woman adjusted her cap.
"Ask why you can look like someone else? Ask where this strange place is?
Or ask whether you followed through on your childhood dream and became an outstanding tennis player?"
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter, sweetheart. None of that matters."
She gently brushed at the furrow in Dawn's brow with her intangible hand. "What matters more is that you've run into trouble, haven't you?"
She gazed at him with eyes made of mist.
Though her form was thin and insubstantial, the emotion within them was as warm and vast as the sea.
"I'm listening, sweetheart. No matter what you say, I'll always listen."
Dawn fell silent for a moment.
It was too similar.
Her personality, her reactions—it was as if a real soul stood before him. No wonder even Dumbledore had become addicted to this.
Faced with her questioning gaze, Dawn didn't know what to say.
In truth, he had already felt a trace of regret the moment he held the Resurrection Stone.
But since he truly had no idea what to do, he struggled before finally speaking.
"I… I met someone. Someone I don't care about at all.
But even though I don't care, when I saw that person take something I said casually and treat it seriously, I suddenly felt this inexplicable sense of guilt."
He spoke vaguely and incoherently, because even he didn't understand what was wrong with himself.
But the woman suddenly looked enlightened.
"Wow! I didn't expect my son to already be at the age to fall in love! That's early!"
"?"
Dawn was completely baffled.
She couldn't help but press on. "Who is it? Where do they live? Are they good-looking? Are they the same age as you?"
"Wait!"
Dawn finally reacted, his temples twitching. "I never said the other person was a girl."
"Huh? A boy?"
The woman smacked her lips. "I mean, when I was young, I really enjoyed watching those French romance films, but if it's my own son—well, that's not exactly something I'd encourage."
Dawn's mouth twitched.
A surge of irritation rose within him. He was talking about something serious—how had it gone so wildly off track?
"This has nothing to do with love at all! Why do you British adults always jump to such strange conclusions?"
He muttered, and at that moment, he inexplicably remembered Harris's reaction back in Egypt when he found out Dawn was living with William.
The woman laughed loudly. "Hey, I was just joking! You're always acting like a little grown-up—no fun at all."
After teasing him for a bit, she turned serious again.
"Then tell me, Dawn—if you feel guilty, why not try making it up to him?"
"That's not the issue."
Dawn waved his hands, clumsily trying to explain his thoughts. "The key problem is that I actually feel guilt toward him over something."
The woman didn't understand. "And what's wrong with that?"
Dawn replied, "It means I care about him."
"And isn't that normal?"
Now she was truly confused. "You care about him, and he cares about you—doesn't that just mean you're good friends?"
Dawn fell silent for a moment, then turned his head away.
"But… I don't want to be friends with him."
"Why? Does he have a bad personality? Or some terrible behavior?"
Dawn frowned as he thought it over and finally gave his reason.
"Because it's terrifying."
The woman seemed startled. "Terrifying?"
"Yes."
Dawn nodded solemnly. "My former headmaster always said that love is the greatest… thing in the world."
He paused, not wanting to spend time explaining magic, and used the word "thing" instead.
"I used to dismiss it. But only recently did I realize that whether love is great or not is debatable—but it truly is a terrifying thing."
He spoke slowly, carefully organizing his thoughts.
"Think about it."
"If you have someone you care about, then no matter what decision you make, you'll subconsciously consider their feelings.
When your own position conflicts with theirs, you get trapped in endless internal struggle."
"If you care too much about what they think, you'll give up your own interests.
But if you insist on protecting your own interests, you might end up hurting them and suffering for it.
And that's not even mentioning how you might have to spend time, take risks, and go out of your way to help them when they run into trouble."
Dawn frowned. "Love is far too troublesome—and far too terrifying. It makes you hesitate at every step and slowly turn into someone you no longer recognize."
"I don't like that. And I don't want to be bound by anyone."
For a moment, the office fell into silence.
The woman looked stunned.
She clearly hadn't expected to hear such words from Dawn's mouth. Judging by his appearance, he seemed barely over ten years old.
"Sweetheart… you think this much before making friends?"
Dawn looked confused. "Shouldn't I?"
The woman hesitated, at a loss for words.
She could see it now. Her precious son had somehow lost the ability to feel love.
That was why, before even making friends, he viewed relationships through a cold lens of reason and profit.
"Honestly… what on earth did your father teach you?
You're already this old and you still don't know how to interact with people, how to properly accept someone else's kindness."
She sighed. "Look at me, Dawn. If you don't know what to do, then listen to me. Try becoming true friends with that child first."
"True friends?"
Dawn frowned. "That's not the answer I wanted."
"Then what answer do you want?"
She sighed again. "Sweetheart, when you're forced to choose between emotion and reason, the very least you should do is understand what love actually is."
"Is that really so important?"
"In a way, it isn't."
She gently touched Dawn's cheek. "But sweetheart, I want you to live a life with love. If there's no one you care about, life will be very painful."
Dawn pressed his lips together and stayed silent—not because he was convinced, but because this was his way of expressing disagreement.
The woman sighed softly. "Child, try it. Love isn't necessarily a shackle."
"Think about when you were little and were so scared that you insisted I hold you while you slept. Did you ever feel that was a burden?"
Dawn stiffened. "That's not the same thing!"
"It is the same."
She shook her head and said seriously, "Sweetheart, do you remember the box we buried together? Find some time to dig it up."
___________
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