"This is something I made when I was young."
The Dumbledore in the portrait furrowed his brows tightly.
In front of him, Harry was holding the object that looked like a flashlight, waiting for him to continue speaking.
So Dumbledore added, "It's a Deluminator. It can absorb sources of light, allowing you to hide."
"Sounds like the exact opposite of a flashlight," Harry said, fiddling with the Deluminator. Then he asked the question that had been weighing on his mind, "Is that all it does? Doesn't it have some other use?"
After receiving the Deluminator without warning, Harry clearly had no clue what to do with it. And yet, there was that voice in his mind—almost like it was guiding him toward a decision.
Right now, who was the one person they all wanted to see?
There was no need to say it.
It was Cyrus!
Someone wanted him to go find Cyrus. And there was a chance, perhaps a very small one, that this was a cry for help from Cyrus himself.
That possibility was incredibly slim, but Harry couldn't ignore it. If this truly was a call for help from Cyrus, and he ignored it, then Harry knew he would regret it for the rest of his life.
If it had been the old him, Harry would have already rushed into action the moment there was even the slightest chance.
But now, he had learned something: it was okay to rely on others.
That, in fact, was the most important lesson he needed to learn.
Because of everything he'd endured at the Dursleys', Harry had always felt isolated and helpless, as if no one would help him. But that wasn't the truth. He had so many friends, so many wise teachers. He could absolutely turn to the wisest person in the world for advice.
"It does have a few other uses," said Dumbledore, though he didn't explain further.
Even as just a portrait, he still approached problems in the same Dumbledore way—he was used to keeping secrets:
"But more importantly, how did it end up in your belongings? I never intended to leave the Deluminator to you, Harry," Dumbledore said.
In fact, his death had come so suddenly that he hadn't made any proper arrangements for his possessions. Originally, everything was to be inherited by Aberforth—but Aberforth had refused.
Eventually, all of Dumbledore's belongings were turned over to Hogwarts, to be passed down as part of the school's legacy for generations to come.
"Yes… unless someone wanted me to use it," Harry said, staring at the Deluminator. "Do you think it could be Cyrus? Maybe he's trying to ask me for help in this way?"
"No," Dumbledore shook his head, "I don't think so. I spoke with Cyrus before he went to seek out Death."
His calm and gentle eyes looked at Harry.
"He would rather sacrifice himself than let you continue to be caught up in danger."
As he said this, Dumbledore felt a trace of shame.
Because at first, he had hoped that Cyrus and Harry would face Death together. He had, of course, known how dangerous that would be—knew that Harry might lose his life—but in Dumbledore's view, there had been no other way. A single sacrifice for the sake of greater peace… he had believed it was worth it.
But clearly, Cyrus wasn't like him.
Harry didn't know any of this. He looked genuinely shocked.
No one had known where Cyrus had gone all this time—yet here was someone who had already passed on, who somehow had information.
He wanted to question Dumbledore, but the Harry of today had matured far too much. He knew it wasn't Dumbledore's fault. From the beginning, Cyrus had never wanted them to know where he was going.
"In truth, he was already prepared to sacrifice himself. He would never now, because of some new danger, drag you into it with him," Dumbledore said. "I believe there are two possibilities as to why the Deluminator has ended up in your possession."
"Please go on," Harry said.
"The first possibility is that, after my death, all of my belongings were turned over to Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained. "And I think you understand, Harry—Hogwarts is not merely a castle. It is imbued with magic. I have often said: Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
Harry nodded.
That line was something Dumbledore had said back in his second year, when they were hiding in Hagrid's hut, watching the detestable Malfoy take Hagrid away.
Cyrus had still been with them then.
"Then it's possible the castle itself sensed that Cyrus needed help and sent this to you. Hogwarts has witnessed the lives of countless witches and wizards, and it contains the wisdom left behind by the four founders. The power it possesses may far exceed your imagination."
"You mean… the four founders wanted me to have this?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded.
No one truly knew how powerful the four founders of Hogwarts had been, but the magical artifacts they left behind were proof enough of their greatness.
"I don't think that's the case," the Sorting Hat suddenly interjected.
As always, it was sitting on its shelf. Harry turned quickly to look, only to see the Hat speaking in a serious tone: "If it were the will of the castle, I don't think it would have happened without my knowledge."
The Sorting Hat had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, but its body and consciousness carried traits from all four founders.
Over the past thousand years, through the process of Sorting student after student, it had completely fused with the magic of the castle.
"But if it wasn't the castle… then who was it?"
"That's the second possibility," Dumbledore said, looking more serious than Harry had ever seen him. His gaze passed through the portrait frame, locking with Harry's for a long moment before he slowly spoke a name: "Death."
"Death?!" Harry's face was full of shock. "But—how is that possible?"
Why would Death help Cyrus?
"I'm afraid it's not that He wants you to help Cyrus," Dumbledore said. "Rather, just like how He deceived Grindelwald and took his soul, He may be trying to trick you. If he succeeds, then no one will be able to stop Him—not even Cyrus."
"What?" Harry felt a surge of rage in that instant.
Death—how despicable!
But Dumbledore instead smiled and offered comfort: "You shouldn't be angry. You should feel relieved. Because Death has set His sights on you, instead of pursuing Cyrus directly. Do you understand what that means?"
Hearing Dumbledore's words, Harry clearly grasped the key point. His expression turned excited, and he clenched his fists, his face flushed with determination:
"It means even Death doesn't dare face Cyrus head-on."
"Exactly!" Dumbledore nodded. "I believe Death's power is far from limited to what we know—but Cyrus has made thorough preparations. He possesses all three Deathly Hallows and is unmatched in the world. No matter how powerful Death may be, at the very least we can see this: when faced with Cyrus, He chose to avoid a direct confrontation."
At that moment, Harry felt his heart pounding wildly, as if he were the one who could make even Death hesitate!
"So, Harry, you must understand—compared to helping Cyrus, the more important thing now is protecting your own safety!"