To have lived to fourteen as an Obscurial was a testament to the meticulous and thorough care her father and brother had provided.
From another perspective, one couldn't help but marvel at the raw power and talent inherent in the Dumbledore bloodline.
After all, Obscurials generally did not survive past the age of eleven.
"You cannot go to see your brother yet," Victor Wick said, rejecting Ariana's desire to find Dumbledore immediately.
"Why?" Ariana asked, looking puzzled.
"Your brother needs a grand surprise; it will be more effective in helping him resolve his inner turmoil. Furthermore, I want him to see a living, breathing Ariana, not an untouchable ghost. I believe your father would agree," Victor said with a serious expression. "Also... if you went to him now, I fear he wouldn't approve of my experiments. After all, in his eyes, these methods might seem a bit too... radical." "You really don't have to go through so much trouble for this. Being a ghost is actually quite fine," Ariana whispered softly.
Even though she had died at fourteen, she had existed in the world of the dead for many years.
The land of the dead was not so different from the world of the living, and in that peaceful realm, she no longer had to worry about being bullied.
Her experiences meant she was no longer the naive, ignorant girl she once was.
Thus, she could easily guess that resurrecting a person was no simple task and would surely come at a heavy price.
A faint smile touched Victor's face. He felt a pang of sympathy for how heartbreakingly sensible Ariana had become.
"I didn't risk a trip to the land of the dead just so you could live a tasteless life as a ghost... Don't you want to taste real candy again? Don't you want to feel the warmth of your family like you once did? Don't you want to stand confidently on the earth and live a new life, one completely different from before? Ariana... this time, no one will ever bully you again. You have my word."
Ariana stared blankly at Victor, a different light shimmering in her eyes...
Suddenly, she gave a radiant smile. "Fine... I heard Albus has grown a long, white beard. I'd actually quite like to feel it."
"I suggest you tie a pink bow on it. I'm certain he wouldn't refuse..."
"Okay! Okay! Um... if you resurrect me, could you make my physical age a little older? I... I want my brother to see what I look like grown up..."
Snape had been feeling incredibly happy lately...
He was even reluctant to leave the hospital wing, a place he usually despised.
There was no annoying James, only Lily's devoted care, filled with gratitude.
Having his dream girl look after him with such concern every day—what man could resist?
However, he remained clear-headed enough not to lose himself entirely in this gentle dream.
Once his injuries were healed, he quickly returned to a working state.
However, he no longer bothered with teaching, handing over all academic duties to Professor Slughorn and publicly claiming that curse remnants still lingered in his body.
With Lily's help and encouragement, Snape's motivation was dialed up to the maximum.
The progress on the potion formula was perfecting at a rapid pace.
Fortunately, Dumbledore was currently preoccupied with tracking down Horcruxes and had no time to notice Snape's abnormalities; otherwise, Victor and his little experiment would surely have been discovered.
"It's done..."
That day, Snape sat exhausted in his chair, holding the freshly finished formula, his face a sickly, pale white.
During this period, he had practically forgotten to eat or sleep.
If Lily hadn't been there to accompany him, he wouldn't have been able to complete the formula in such a short amount of time.
Snape stood up with the formula, but as soon as he did, he felt a wave of dizziness. He had to steady himself against the table to stay upright.
"Go and rest first. You haven't slept properly in days. I've already memorized the formula; I'll go tell Professor Wick," Lily urged him from the side.
"Alright... fine." During this entire time, Snape had never once refused a suggestion from Lily.
"Once you wake up, clean yourself up. Look at you... you've been so focused on the research that you've neglected everything else. You're a mess... Take a good bath, wash your hair, wash your face, and put on a face mask..."
Snape's hand gripped the table tight. He looked at Lily with a stiff expression. "Did Victor Wick tell you to say that?"
Face masks? To this day, only that improper bastard Victor Wick would do something as ridiculous as gifting him a skincare set!
Most importantly... the last time he had secretly tried one, he was caught red-handed by that bastard!
Whenever he thought about it, his skin crawled, and he wanted to curl his toes into the floor...
"Professor Wick? No, I just saw the shampoo and masks over there. When you wake up, I'll help you with them."
"No... don't say another word..." Snape's face turned bright red.
If Victor Wick had said those words, he would have exploded with rage long ago.
But since it was Lily... amidst the embarrassment, he only felt warmth in his heart.
Matters of the heart... are sometimes just that double-standard!
"Thank you... Severus. You saved Harry's life, and you've worked yourself to the bone to create a new potion for our resurrection. James and I will be forever grateful to you."
Those words were like a bucket of ice water poured over Snape's head.
Yes... James... the happiness of this period had almost made him forget James's existence...
But James was always there, in Lily's heart, never having disappeared.
Something once missed is missed forever... the best possible outcome for him and Lily could only ever be friendship.
*But... I'm still too greedy. All I once sought was Lily's forgiveness.*
*And now, not only has Lily forgiven me, but she is also willing to remain my friend.*
*Isn't this what I used to dream of most? What more could I possibly ask for?*
*Indeed... if she were to completely cast James aside as in my unrealistic fantasies, then this Lily wouldn't be the Lily in my heart anymore...*
Snape leaned on the table, feeling even more lightheaded...
"I'm going to rest. You should go..." Snape's voice was terribly hoarse.
Lily looked at him with concern.
How could she not know how much damage her words would cause Snape?
But... she had to say them.
To let Snape harbor false hope would be irresponsible to him, as well as to her husband and son.
"Go!" Snape said urgently, his voice low.
Lily sighed and vanished through the wall.
Snape stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed onto his narrow little bed.
He stared hollowly at the ceiling. The dark bedroom was deathly quiet, save for the clear sound of his own breathing...
After a long while, he sat up and picked up a large chunk of Mandrake root.
Snape stared quietly at the root in his hand, then suddenly picked up a small knife and began to carve it...
Before long, the vague outline of a woman began to take shape.
Snape didn't stop. Hair, eyes, nose, lips...
Gradually, the dusty piece of root transformed into the Lily of his heart.
Snape's hollow gaze slowly softened...
For him, Lily would never vanish or leave; she would stay in his heart forever, occupying every single corner...
Snape clutched his chest tightly. The scar that had just healed began to throb with a faint pain again.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
The sound of rapid coughing echoed in the silent bedroom.
The Knights Templar had also begun to move.
Only this time, they weren't launching an attack; they were searching everywhere for rare potion ingredients.
Supported by Victor Wick's massive wealth, their speed in collecting materials was extremely fast.
During this time, Dumbledore had been poring over records regarding Voldemort.
He actually began to find some new clues in those old archives...
And these clues had nothing to do with the cup or the diadem, but something else entirely...
It was a closed case report recorded by the Ministry of Magic many years ago.
Back then, the Muggle Riddle family—Voldemort's father's family—had all died suddenly overnight.
Upon examination, they were all found to have died from the Killing Curse...
The killer was caught soon after.
The Ministry's report mentioned that the culprit was Morfin Gaunt of the Gaunt family.
And the Gaunt family just happened to be the family of Voldemort's mother...
The case was unremarkable, nothing more than a dark wizard committing a crime of passion; the details were quite simple.
But in the eyes of Dumbledore, who knew Voldemort's background, the case became far from simple...
Because both the victims and the perpetrator were inextricably linked to Voldemort!
And the evidence... frankly, seemed a bit too deliberate.
Dumbledore soon flipped to a trial report regarding the case.
"...The accused refused to plead guilty, consistently claiming he had been knocked unconscious at the time of the crime and that a family heirloom ring had been stolen, emphasizing he had no knowledge of the events... However, the evidence was conclusive, proving Morfin Gaunt was the one who murdered the Riddle family... Ultimately, the Wizengamot decided to sentence Morfin Gaunt to life imprisonment in Azkaban."
"Family heirloom ring... Could it be the one that belonged to Marvolo Gaunt?"
Dumbledore closed the report, muttering to himself.
He had heard that the Gaunt family indeed possessed a black-stoned ring engraved with the Peverell crest, a symbol of their family honor. This ring proved their blood connection to Slytherin.
In those years, although the Gaunt family had fallen into decay, they were still immersed in past glories. They often bragged about the ring to outsiders to show off their pure-blood heritage. No matter how destitute they became, they never considered selling it.
Therefore, the existence of the ring was no secret... Dumbledore had heard friends mention it before.
"Based on Wick's analysis... this ring perfectly fits Tom's criteria for creating a Horcrux! Perhaps I should pay a visit to the old Gaunt shack..."
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