Dumbledore is dead.

Former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, President of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, and current Minister of Magic in England, Albus Dumbledore, who is widely regarded as the greatest wizard of our time, died quietly at the hands of the Adversary at Hogwarts.

All classes were suspended and all exams were postponed. Over the next two days, some of the students were hastily picked up from Hogwarts by their parents - the morning after Dumbledore's death, the Parvati twins left without breakfast - and their parents picked them up without saying a word, even if Silver did not change their mind, and Zachares Smith followed his swaggering father out of the castle. Many wizards, both men and women, flocked to the village to say their final goodbyes to Dumbledore.

In the evening of 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 from the sky and landed on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The younger students were excited, they had never seen anything like this before. A tall, imposing woman with black hair and yellow skin stepped out of the carriage and threw herself into Hagrid's arms, who were waiting there. At the same time, a delegation from the Ministry of Magic was arranged to stay in the castle.

Ron accompanies Harry in the school hospital, and as Harry's close friend, he knows a little bit of the truth from Harry's mouth intermittently,

"I can't believe it's Dumbledore. Ron said, "But Harry, don't blame you for this, you've done enough. ”

Harry looked at the Prophet in a daze, not hearing Ron's words. Underneath Dumbledore's obituary was a notice that Lucius Malfoy had temporarily taken over as Minister for Magic.

"Tomorrow is Dumbledore's funeral, are you going to check it out? Sirius will come too. Ron said.

"I'll go. Harry was silent again.

The next day. Ron helped Harry pack his bags and was discharged from the school hospital. Harry's injuries were almost healed, but Madam Pomfrey said she would have to recuperate for a while.

The Hogwarts Express will depart one hour after the funeral. Harry and Ron went downstairs to find the atmosphere in the auditorium very oppressive. Everyone was dressed in tuxedos and robes, and no one seemed to have much of an appetite. Professor McGonagall left the throne-like seat in the middle of the faculty table. No one sat in Hagrid's chair either. Harry guessed he might not be in the mood for breakfast. But next to Snape's seat sat the reinstated former Headmaster Rufus Scrimgeur, who was now the head of the Aurors' office. His appearance is very eye-catching. He scanned the Great Hall with his yellow eyes as he spoke to Snape, Harry avoided him, knowing full well that he was looking for himself - and Snape must be talking to Scrimgeour about himself. Among Scrimgeur's entourage, Harry spotted Percy Weasley, who was red-haired and wearing horn-rimmed glasses. His expression was stern and he didn't say a word.

At the Slytherin table over there, Crabbe and Goyle huddled together and whispered. Malfoy was gone, but Harry didn't care about Malfoy's mood at this time, and all the plots that Malfoy planned or didn't plan disappeared with Dumbledore's death.

He looked at the Ravenclaw table again, but he couldn't find the person he was looking for, where had Silver gone, and would he feel guilty about Dumbledore's death?

Ron stabbed Harry, interrupting his thoughts. Professor McGonagall stood up, and the mournful whispers in the auditorium immediately calmed down.

"It's almost time. She said, "Please follow your dean to the grounds." Gryffindor classmates come with me. ”

They came out of the bench in a line, barely making a sound. Harry caught a glimpse of Slughorn standing at the front of the Slytherin line, dressed in an opulent teal robe embroidered with silver thread. He didn't look harmed. Besides, he had never seen Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff, so neat and clean, and not a single patch on his hat. When they reached the foyer, they found Mrs. Pince standing beside Filch. Wearing a thick black mask that hung down to his knees, Filch wore an old-fashioned suit and tie. There was a smell of mothballs on his body.

Harry exited the gate and onto the stone steps and found them walking in the direction of the lake. The warm sunlight shone on his face, and they silently followed Professor McGonagall to the place where hundreds of chairs were lined up. There is an aisle in the middle of the chair, and in front of it is a marble table, towards which all the chairs are facing. This is one of the most beautiful and pleasant days of summer.

Half of the chairs were already filled with people, all sorts of people: ragged and neat, old and young. Most of Harry didn't know him, but there were a few that he did, including members of the Order of the Phoenix: Kingsley Shackle, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, the Weasleys, and Fred and George in black dragon leather jackets. Then there was Lady Maxime, who alone occupied two and a half chairs, Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron, the heavily haired double bass in the Weird Sisters, the rider bus driver Yrne Puran, the Lady Morkin at the Diagon Alley Robe Shop, and a few people Harry just looked familiar with, like the waiter at the Hogwarts Bar and the witch pushing the cart on the Hogwarts Express. The ghosts of the castle also came, barely visible in the sunlight and only recognizable when they walked around, shimmering with an illusory glow in the bright air.

People were talking to each other in whispers, like a breeze blowing through the grass, and the sound of birds was loud.

and all the staff have been seated. Harry could see Scrimgeour sitting in the front row with Mrs. McGonagall, looking solemn and imposing. Harry didn't know if Scrimgeour and the other big names were really saddened by Dumbledore's death. Then he heard the music, like fairy music floating from another world, and he forgot his antipathy for the big guys and turned his face to find the source of the music. He was not alone: many heads were spinning, searching, and a little surprised.

Finally, Harry looked at the lake. Just in the clear green waters of the lake in the sun, just a few inches below the surface of the lake, a chorus of merfolk sang in a strange language he didn't understand, their pale faces rippling and purple hair floating around them. The music made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end, but it wasn't harsh. It speaks plainly of grief and despair. Harry looked down at the excited faces in the water, thinking that at least they were grieving Dumbledore's departure.

A small, thick-haired man dressed in plain black robes stood up from his seat and stood in front of Dumbledore's body. Harry couldn't make out what he was saying. Occasionally, a few words floated over hundreds of heads and drifted behind. "noble spirit" ...... "academic maturity" ...... "great mind......

Harry was in a trance, not understanding what the little man was talking about, all he knew was that Dumbledore was dead......

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"Isn't it subtle to attend your own funeral?"

Silver sat in a corner and spoke to a hooded man beside him.

Indeed, when I heard this obituary, I couldn't help but weep over my own death. ”

If anyone could lift the man's hood, they would find that he was exactly the same as Dumbledore who was supposed to be lying in the marble sarcophagus.

"Say, are we expecting too much from Harry?"

"It's you, sir, not us. ”

"Hehe, that's what I said. (To be continued......)