Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 396 Dumbledore's Funeral—Elegy

All classes are suspended and all exams postponed.In the next two days, some students were hurriedly picked up from Hogwarts by their parents - the morning after Dumbledore's death, the Indian Parvati twin sisters left without breakfast, and many Slytherin students also left with their father.Seamus Finnigan flatly refused to go home with his mother, and they had a loud row in the hall, which was over when his mother allowed him to stay for the funeral.

Too many wizards crowded into Hogsmeade, and they came to say their final goodbyes to Dumbledore.

Hera has kept herself locked in the principal's office, which made Madam Pomfrey and other professors very worried, for fear that Hera would not be able to accept such a blow.And Harry shut his mouth knowingly, because he didn't even convince his two friends - they both believed Hera and didn't want to admit that everything Harry saw was real.This made Harry doubt his own memory.

Maybe, this is really Voldemort's trick! ?

But he still couldn't trust Hera anymore.

In fact, Hera didn't care what Harry was thinking now, he locked himself in the headmaster's office, didn't eat or drink, just sat in the corner blankly, looking at the throne-like armchair, which was Dumbledore's usual seat, even though he had sat there for nearly a year.

At dusk on the day before the funeral, a powder-blue carriage the size of a house was pulled by a dozen huge winged silver-maned horses, flew two times through the sky, and landed on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.The younger students were very excited, they had never seen such a sight before.A tall, tall, imposing woman with black hair and yellow skin stepped out of the carriage.He fell headfirst into Hagrid's arms.

Because of the news of Dumbledore's death, Hagrid also took a huge risk to appear at Hogwarts. Fortunately, no one pursued the previous matter-attacking Aurors.Anyone with a discerning eye knew that it was Fudge's wrong decision.

Meanwhile, a delegation from the Ministry of Magic - which included Fudge himself - was housed at the castle, all done by Professors Flitwick and Sprout, the only ones still strong enough to carry on with their work.There was no sign of Snape at all, he shut himself in the dungeon, no one knew what he was doing.

And a beautiful figure also rushed to the principal's office.

"Hera." Penello pushed open the door, looking heartbrokenly at the figure hiding in the corner, the cloak was draped over him indiscriminately, and he knew how much Hera had suffered just by watching.

Hera heard the voice, raised her head slowly, saw Penello's figure, and nodded stiffly.

"Hera, no one blames you." Penello ran to Hera, hugged Hera tightly, and seeing him like this, his eyes began to moisten.

Hera hugged Penello, shook her head slightly, and smiled bitterly, "How can you not blame me?"

"That's the mysterious man, you've tried your best." Penello hugged Hera tightly and buried him in her arms.

Hera didn't answer, he just sighed deeply and hugged Penello even harder.

They stay together all day, and the sunny weather seems to be taunting them.Hera couldn't help but imagine how wonderful it would be if Dumbledore hadn't died. If he hadn't been cursed, wouldn't everything be the same?

But he knew one thing better, he had to take action against Dumbledore to make his death more meaningful, instead of letting Dumbledore die alone in the office.This is also Dumbledore's wish.

Everyone was delighted to find that Hera started to go out, and they could see Hera on the field, even though he looked so weak, he even had to support Penello when he went out-although Hera insisted that he didn't need it, Penello insisted on supporting Hera.

"Hera, it's great to see you again, we can't afford to lose another headmaster." Professor Flitwick said sadly, he seemed to have lost all his former vitality, and he walked lazily beside Hera. "He must have known it early on. He is no match for the mysterious man. So he arranged for you to take his place."

Hera pursed her lips. What Flitwick said was right, and he knew all of this, but he just couldn't accept it. The kind and loving elder died at his own hands. Maybe this would become a nightmare for him all his life.

"We will take care of the funeral. Minerva has also heard the news, but St. Mungo's doctor won't allow her to leave the hospital. She will dare to rush back to the castle at a later date." Flitwick took out a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it on his face. He said with a bit of sobs, "I can't imagine what she will look like when she sees him. She has suffered too much."

"She will be very sad." Hera said softly, looking a little dazed. "By the way, what about Dumbledore's funeral?"

"Well," said Professor Flitwick, his voice trembling, "I - I know that Dumbledore's wrong is buried here, at Hogwarts - we all know -"

"Then do that, we've brought him back to Hogwarts." Hera said firmly.

"If the Ministry sees fit," Professor Flitwick picked up his handkerchief again, "there hasn't been a headmaster—"

"There has never been a headmaster who has made such a great contribution to the school." Hera continued Flitwick's words. "Hogwarts should be Dumbledore's final resting place."

"Absolutely," sobbed Flitwick, who had been extra vulnerable since news of Dumbledore's death had spread throughout Hogwarts, as he always did when it came to Dumbledore.However, it is already much better than others.

"In that case," said Hera, "the students should wait until the funeral is over before sending the students home. They want to say goodbye to Dumbledore."

"Well," screamed Flitwick, "it's only fitting that our students should be grateful, and we can send them home after this."

"I think. Yes" Penello whispered, she supported Hera vigorously, and she obviously felt that Hera's body was shaking a little, as if she was about to fall to the ground.

"You'd better go to Madam Pomfrey, your body—we've lost enough," said Professor Flitwick, his eyes fixed on the field, as if that would calm his nerves.

"Thank you, I will consider it." Hera's complexion was abnormally pale.

On the other end, Harry was with Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all day, and they visited the school hospital twice a day.Neville hadn't been released from the hospital yet. He had been tortured by Latrix with the Cruciatus Curse for quite some time, which would have caused great damage to his spirit - his parents had been tortured insane by Bellatrix, and they never said a word.

"Can't you get rid of that image yet?" sighed Ginny, sitting with Harry, Ron, and Hermione that night by the open window of the Gryffindor common room, looking out at the twilight field.

"I saw that with my own eyes." Harry stopped talking after saying this, he didn't want to worry the people around him anymore, but he could clearly see that it was Hera who cast the death curse on Dumbledore.He betrayed Dumbledore's trust.

"But we all know what you have suffered this year." Hermione interrupted Harry's words. In fact, Harry had no desire to continue.

Harry didn't answer her question, just turned to stare out at the twilight field.

"Harry, you have to accept that Dumbledore is dead, he died at the hands of - Voldemort." Ron said in a low voice, and when he said Voldemort's name, he unconsciously shuddered, but he still pronounced the name in full.

"But, what I saw with my own eyes was Hera! It was him!" Harry suddenly yelled. He couldn't understand why these friends refused to believe his words. "He betrayed Dumbledore in the Ministry of Magic."

Hermione propped herself up on the table weakly, "But we all know that Dumbledore trusts Hera, otherwise he would not have given Hogwarts to Hera. It is impossible for him to hand over the school to the Death Eaters. And Hera even broke into the Ministry of Magic to rescue us."

"Maybe it's one of his plans, maybe it's just to make you trust him," said Harry.

Ron sighed, "But he didn't have to risk his life to save us, I mean, Voldemort wanted to kill you, didn't he?"

Harry seemed to be discouraged all of a sudden. It really didn't make sense to say that. Hera even broke into the Department of Mysteries to save them, and fought the Death Eaters for a long time. She didn't look like Voldemort's henchmen.

"Right now, the most important thing is Dumbledore's funeral." After hesitating for a long time, Ginny said slowly, and everyone fell silent after saying this.They turned their heads to look at the venue outside the window, and remained silent for a long time.

That night, Harry tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep, and emotionally told him that he should believe in Hera. What he saw was probably a fantasy created by Voldemort, but the scene was so real that when he closed his eyes, the tip of Hera's wand shot green light and hit the old man's chest.

On the day of Dumbledore's funeral, the students got up early to pack their bags.The Hogwarts Express will leave an hour after the funeral.The students came downstairs. Unsurprisingly, the atmosphere in the auditorium was very depressing.Everyone was in dress robes, and no one seemed to have much appetite.The throne-like seat in the middle of the teaching staff table was empty, and Hera deliberately left it vacant, and the significance of it was self-evident.

Hera looked extremely thin, and he seemed to have lost at least ten catties in just a few days.Sitting next to him was Penello, who was taking small sips of soup into his mouth with a spoon in distress.

On the other side of the empty seat was Professor McGonagall. Her body was still wrapped in bandages. She looked extremely weak, her face was pale, and there was a cane on the edge of the table. She didn't touch the breakfast in front of her at all.

Sitting next to him was Connelly Fudge, who looked like nothing special, except that he was slicing his smoked fish with extra vigor.

At the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle huddled together and whispered.Surprisingly, Draco Malfoy wasn't sitting with them, he just hung his head dryly eating the bread in front of him, not even noticing that the bread wasn't buttered.

"It's almost time." Hera stood up and said in his extraordinarily weak but firm voice.The mournful murmur in the auditorium immediately died down. "Follow your dean to the field, and the Gryffindor students will follow me."

Hera's pace was really slow. Everyone knew that he was greatly shocked by Dumbledore's death, but no one spoke out against him. The students followed him slowly, and came out from behind the bench in a line, barely making a sound.

Hera and Penello walked out of the auditorium, and when they were in the foyer, they saw Mrs. Pince and Filch, both wearing black dresses, looking serious and sad.They nodded to Hera, then bowed their heads again.

Hera went out of the gate, came to the stone steps, and led the students towards the direction of the lake. The warm sun shone on his face, and he silently moved towards his destination.

There were hundreds of chairs lined up, with an aisle between them, and a marble table in front of them, toward which all the chairs turned.It is one of the most beautiful and pleasant days of summer.

Half of the chairs were already occupied by people of all kinds, ragged and neat, old and young.Hera knew some people, but he didn't greet them. Seeing Hera's appearance, they didn't make a sound in tacit understanding. They just nodded silently at him and made way for a path that could lead to the marble table.

It took a lot of time for everyone to be seated, and Hera stood in the center, watching all this quietly.

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge and Richfar Heilig, were sitting in the front row, representing the Ministry, with sad faces, and Richfar even tried to stand up and look around, expecting Dumbledore to pop out of the corner and tell them it was all a bad joke on his part, that he was just an old urchin.

but.
Miracle didn't happen.

With the support of Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall sat in the first row, closest to Hera. She clutched a small handkerchief tightly in her hand and covered her face.

The music sounded, like fairy music from another world, many heads were turning and searching, with a little surprise.

They saw it quickly.

Just inches below the sunlit clear green waters, a chorus of murlocs sang in a strange language incomprehensible to humans, their pale faces rippling and their purple hair floating around them.The music made the hairs on the back of the neck stand on end, but it wasn't harsh.

It speaks plainly of grief and despair.

They were all mourning the loss of Dumbledore.

　It's a little late, I came here by car yesterday, I didn't sleep well all night, I slept for most of the day during the day, I just woke up and wrote it and posted it.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)