Homecoming from Hogwarts

Sadness spread rapidly outward from the Pig's Head Bar.

Be it villagers, employees of the Ministry of Magic, strikers from the Allied Forces, teaching staff or stranded little wizards.

Everyone was overwhelmed by this shocking and sad news and rushed to the Hog's Head Bar in a daze.

The bodies of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald were quickly removed from their bedrooms and placed in the lobby of the Hog's Head for people to pay their respects.

Close people, including Aberforth, Hogwarts faculty and staff, and wizards of the Order of the Phoenix, all stayed in the living room to accompany Albus Dumbledore.

The stone wall in front of the bar was removed, and people formed a line on the central street of Hogsmeade, walked into the alley leading to the Hog's Head Inn, passed by the narrow alley in front of the bar, silently glanced at the old man who had fallen into eternal sleep, and then left.

Apart from Hagrid's loud crying, there was no other noisy sound.

People expressed their inner confusion and helplessness in silence.

What should I do next?

Amosta Blaine is missing, dead or alive.

Albus Dumbledore. Even Gellert Grindelwald has left the world. What should they do next?

Who will lead them to resist Voldemort, a dark wizard who can move an island into the sky and summon terrifying snakes?
Harry also stood in the crowd, looking at the faces of everyone in the living room who were observing silence.

Professor McGonagall, Remus, Sirius, Hagrid.
Including Ron and Hermione.

Everyone's eyes were on Professor Dumbledore, and no one paid attention to him.

Harry opened his mouth, but the atmosphere of grief so thick that it was impossible to express it in words overwhelmed him, and he could not make a sound.

Harry knew that if he told people that Professor Brain was still alive and had given instructions, it would definitely save people from despair.

But the gray-haired old man lying on the bed
Harry looked at Dumbledore, who had a relieved smile on his face, and a huge void filled his heart.

This feeling is so suffocating, even the pain of scars can't compare to it.
scar!

Harry, who was standing silently in the middle of the crowd, suddenly shook and confusion flashed in his green eyes.

The scar hurt, and he saw some things again.

This is really an unexpected thing.

After being invaded by Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic the night before, Dumbledore explained some things to him.
Dumbledore told him that Voldemort would not do that, he would close his mind to him, and would neither let himself see him nor weave illusions to mislead him.

Because Voldemort had realized how dangerous it was for his broken soul to come into contact with his own flawless soul.

But then, he saw it again.
Could it be an illusion?
Or has Voldemort lost control of his own thoughts?
Looking up, Harry looked at every sad face in the living room again, fell silent, and quietly retreated.

He left among the crowd mourning Dumbledore. Some people noticed him, but they all remained silent.

Hermione was one of the people who noticed Harry's 'escape' and tried to follow.

“Forget it—”

Ron grabbed Hermione's sleeve and shook his head palely.
"I guess he wants to be alone."

Hermione's eyes got even redder, she bit her lower lip, and finally nodded.

Breathe
The north wind seemed to have stopped its noise in mourning for the old man who had passed away.

The air was heavy with gray, and even the sparse snowflakes falling from the sky were dyed gray.

On the hillside and on the streets, people formed long lines and poured into the Hog's Head Inn. Harry pondered for a moment, then walked against the crowd towards the wilderness at the entrance of the village.

Many people saw Harry Potter.

People stared at him, but no one disturbed him.

In the absence of Amosta and Dumbledore, perhaps only the 'Boy-Who-Lived' can fight Voldemort.

Harry wrapped himself in a robe to resist the bitterly cold temperature, with a wooden face, as he passed by tents with their curtains open.

Narcissa and Draco remained in the tent with Lucius, and did not join the crowd mourning Dumbledore.

Draco saw Harry passing by his tent, and Harry also felt the gaze of Draco in the tent.

He paused slightly, his green eyes met the light gray eyes, and then Harry turned his head and continued walking out of the village.

As if possessed by a ghost, Draco stood up from his father's bed.

"Draco?"

Narcissa looked up and gazed at her son.

"I'll go see him, Mom—"

Draco said softly. Narcissa did not ask any more questions. She also saw Harry passing by the door. She just watched Draco walk out of the tent.

Harry noticed Draco as soon as he walked out of the tent, but he neither stopped nor turned back to talk to him. He just walked forward with quiet steps until he walked out of the village and stopped in front of the rugged mountain road.

"If you had told me you were going to duel Voldemort alone I would have laughed my ass off, Potter -"

Draco said, looking at Harry thirty feet away, without much mockery in his tone.

"In fact—"

Harry smiled.

"That's what I was going to do, Malfoy, now you can laugh at me -"

He noticed that Malfoy had dared to call Voldemort by his name.

Contrary to Harry's expectation, Malfoy did not laugh. He still looked at him calmly.

"Your father."

Harry pondered, he didn't know how to evaluate Lucius Malfoy's life.

"If you dare laugh at him, I swear I'll punch your nose in the face, Potter."

Draco said.

The fine snowflakes covered the wilderness with a layer of white gauze, and the two young men looked at each other in the snow.

"I didn't mean to do that--"

After a while, Harry shook his head.

He stared at Malfoy, and seemed to sense that the aura that he hated about this boy who had been against him since the day he entered Hogwarts had disappeared a lot.

"To be fair, it was Voldemort who killed your father—"

Pursing his lips, Harry said.

"You don't need to remind me of this--"

There was a hint of impatience in Draco's indifferent tone.
"It seems that you are not going to seek Voldemort's death. I guess you just want to cry behind everyone's back."

Draco turned around and prepared to leave.

"I am a little too sentimental. Please, Potter, I won't prevent you from expressing your thoughts about Dumbledore--"

"Wait, Malfoy—"

Harry called Malfoy to stop, and faced the pair of cold grey eyes that turned back to him. Harry hesitated for a few seconds again.
"During the melee yesterday, that move you made was pretty cool."

Harry was referring to the move in which Malfoy used his wand to summon blade-like spelllights to cut many monsters in half.

Draco's eyes flashed with a hint of gloom.

That move was inspired by Professor Brain.

In the second grade, he used that move to easily kill an eight-eyed spider in front of him.

"You called me just for this."

"I might need a helper."

Harry said, interrupting Malfoy.

"And if you want to avenge your father yourself."

Draco frowned, stared at Harry's calm face for a long time, and nodded slightly.

Ripples suddenly appeared in the dark space where snowflakes were floating.

An old woman, wrapped tightly from head to toe, emerged from the vortex that distorted space.

She walked out of the narrow, secluded alley. On the street, the line of wizards marching silently made her narrow pupils dilate and she shrank her shoulders.

But after making sure that no one was paying attention to her, the aggression lingering around her was not as strong.

She looked at the sullen-looking wizards, her blood-red eyes flickering with confusion.

What's the matter?
what's going on?
It seemed that everyone in the village had gathered outside, and once they started, they would attract everyone's attention.
This made her wish to quietly come here to subdue a villager and get information come to nothing.

Hiss
There was a familiar smell in the air, and it was coming from a direction away from the village.

The old woman's long and thin nose wings expanded a few times, and the bloody red in her pupils became more intense.
(End of this chapter)