Hogwarts: Proficiency Panel Chapter 470 471: A New Day

"It is strange that a wizard's mouth refuses to speak." The black cat leaped

onto the tabletop.

"What do you think it should say?" Leta asked with a light laugh.

"It should say the things that were left unsaid."

In the blink of an eye, the cat vanished. Leta watched it pass through the

wooden door and leap toward the fireplace, feeling an inexplicable sense of

loss.

When she lingered in the kitchen, cradling a steaming pumpkin pie near the

cupboards, the black cat reappeared. The snow outside had fallen into a heavy

silence, and a pale pink halo blurred the edges of the dream. The cat looked

like a ssenger of the night, bringing the dusk with it.

The cat's tail swayed, and she suddenly noticed the ground beneath her feet

shifting. It was the cat's magic, yet she knew that magic was a precious and

rare thing in the Lands Between. Rarely did any wizard carry their magic into

this realm.

But she was being sent away. In this dusk, she felt as if she were stepping into

a night sea, where soone had invited her to salvage the lost stars.

"I have never hated you, Leta." Newt was speaking. Getting those few words out

seed to cost him every ounce of his strength. "I did it willingly. Whatever

concerns you held, I forgave you long ago. You should know that I have always

forgiven you, without reservation."

Reality could be a dream that required constant caution, but a dream was a

reality where one could finally let their guard down. The black cat had rely

articulated Leta's state of mind to Newt, and the silent Mr. Scamander had

finally found the clarity to voice what had been hidden in his heart.

"Why, Newt? If you don't hate , why do you still comfort ?" Leta felt lost

for the first ti.

"Because nothing saddens more than your unhappiness," Newt said.

Neither of them spoke again. The cat could only hear the sound of the snow

falling softly outside the cabin.

"I have missed you, Leta." Newt finally said. It was the last thing a man so

unaccustod to words would ever say.

Outside, the mist grew dense—so thick that Newt could no longer see the face

before him, so thick that he was forced to look directly ahead. He could no

longer hide.

Newt heard the floorboards creaking, as if sothing was running toward him; he

heard the sound growing denser, closer; Newt froze. Sothing pressed against

him—bearing a warm, gentle body heat and a rich, rose-like fragrance. Sothing

cool dripped onto his neck, tickling him, a sensation that strangely reminded

him of the ice outside that would never thaw.

"Thank you." He heard soone whisper.

He strained to hear clearly, desperate to etch this mont into his mory

forever. But it was too late; the Lands Between did not welco visitors from

the outside. Newt bowed his head, and in those final monts, he let the

accumulated weight of the years turn into droplets that fell to the floor.

He snapped his eyes open. The cabin was still the sa cabin. The three Kneazles

had beco one, its black fur dusted with white snow, a stone-like object

emitting a faint glow against its chest. It had forcibly pushed back the mist.

Inside the cabin, the two reunited souls held one another for the first ti in

nearly a century. When they finally parted, they knew that nothing could ever

separate them again. The Lands Between held both dusk and dawn, yet it was never

a place of total darkness; it remained a white expanse, forever churning with

mist.

"We shall et again in a place where there is no darkness," Leta said.

And so, the world inverted once more. A wizard lost in a dream must eventually

return to reality.

Dorset.

Aged Newt stared blankly at the faint brightening of the horizon. Sothing had

leaped from the depths of his heart; at tis it was like a curled-up little

snake casting magic in the deep snow, at others like a gentle dove cooing

against a white windowpane.

He picked up a manuscript from his desk. The pages were filled with drawings of

a black cat. He decided to na this work Dreams and Gods, and he knew,

inevitably and uncontrollably, that perfecting this book would be the final,

most important task of his life.

"The black cat that traverses the boundary between life and death, the master of

dreams that appears and vanishes in the mist... I have always believed it

watches over the wishes of wizards in the dark. Perhaps it does not know, yet it

always brings good luck to those it visits... Ancient wizarding legends are not

entirely false, and the source of all dream tales points, in the end, to a

talking black cat. And those things shuttered away by the daylight shall, in the

end, be brought to us by the Dream Cat."

Newt wrote his preface, turning his head to see that it was drizzling in

Scotland. From a light sprinkle to a downpour, it struck the earth, touched the

soil, and waited until the morning sun rose to return to the heavens. It had a

brief, secret tryst with the earth.

Though the sun would always rise, the night was long enough.

The Lands Between.

Only the black cat and the beautiful witch remained. The mist would drive away

guests, but it was not so quick to drive away its master. The black cat could

always stay a little longer than its invited guests. As it had said—this was its

dream.

Yet, the black cat could not control when the dream would fade. Just now, a

thread of mist had abruptly thickened, and it was inexplicably held back.

Leta felt no sense of loss. Accompanied by the sound of the snow outside, she

busied herself tidying the broken cabinet. She repaired the wooden door and

discarded the shattered bowls. Occasionally, she glanced at the wooden table to

see the cat wrestling with a pumpkin pie in the glow of the hearth. Its white

whiskers were stained with sweet pumpkin juice, and it moved its paws as if

directing a band of cutlery.

She smiled radiantly, looking like the pure Gabriel flowers outside. She brushed

the crumbs from the black cat and let it settle on her shoulder. On this bright

day, she laid down every burden.

She burned away her regret, and so her dream beca transparent. She cast aside

the "yesterdays," and so her footsteps beca light. She moved through the

garden, busily pruning branches amidst the blooming Gabriel flowers.

Hummingbirds perched upon the honeysuckle.

There was nothing in this world she wished to possess. She knew there was no one

she needed to envy. Any misfortune she had ever suffered, she had forgotten. It

did not embarrass her to think that she of the past and she of the present were

one and the sa.

The pain had, for the most part, vanished from her. Straightening her back, she

gazed out at the blue sea and the shadows of sails. On her shoulder, the cat

seed to have fallen asleep; after finishing the pie, it appeared quite drowsy.

Leta knew that suppressing the mist had cost the ssenger of Luck a fair bit of

strength.

And so, amidst the mundane trivialities of daily life, she suddenly touched upon

a fragnt of eternity and happiness. She slept with unusual peace that night.

After all, tomorrow would be a new day.

☆☆☆

-> SUPPORT WITH POWER STONE

-> FOR EVERY 200 PS = BOUNS CHAPTER

☆☆☆

-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!

-> spat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper

(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)

If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you