Hospital Wing.
Not only were the two Ministry of Magic officials present, but also the entire Weasley family, Hermione, Sirius Black, several professors, and the Diggorys.
They were all concerned about their children while also feeling fortunate to have survived the ordeal.
Madam Pomfrey was not particularly pleased; these people were disturbing the patients' rest.
Dumbledore arrived, here to provide the waiting crowd with answers.
An answer that they, and indeed everyone, needed to know.
"Voldemort has regained his body."
A strange silence fell over the room.
Barty Crouch Sr. and Amelia Bones drew sharp breaths.
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "A student died there. We need to take necessary measures—we still have a chance to turn the tide."
"The first and most important step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the Dementors."
Amelia frowned and said, "Do you really think the Dementors would betray the Ministry of Magic?"
No one present was foolish. Both Barty Crouch Sr. and Amelia Bones were elite figures in the wizarding world. They weren't naive enough to think Dumbledore was simply speaking nonsense due to old age.
They were not Fudge. If it were that fool Fudge, he would undoubtedly believe Dumbledore was merely trying to incite panic to undermine his authority.
That man, intoxicated by power for too long, had forgotten the most basic common sense of the wizarding world. Even a student is smarter than him.
"Dementors are Voldemort's most dangerous allies. Continuing to let them guard a group of people willing to die for him is like handing lambs to the wolves," Dumbledore continued. "Those creatures share Voldemort's interests; it's only natural they would align with him."
Barty Crouch Sr. spoke up, "There's nothing we can do about it. That decision lies with the Minister for Magic."
With that statement, the conversation took a turn.
Barty Sr. looked eagerly at Dumbledore, and Amelia Bones also realized something.
"The second measure we must take—and it must be done immediately," Dumbledore deliberately changed the subject. He knew Barty was trying to force him to choose between them. "We need to send envoys to the giants."
"The giants?" Barty's expression darkened. "Those creatures were driven out by us."
"We must extend a hand of friendship while we still can," Dumbledore said. "Otherwise, Voldemort will recruit them to his side—he has done it before."
Barty fell silent because he knew Voldemort was absolutely capable of doing just that.
Among all wizards, only Voldemort could offer the giants the rights and freedoms they desired.
Forming diplomatic ties with giants—if the rest of the wizarding world found out—would be an embarrassment.
The relationship between giants and wizards had always been poor, especially after they were expelled.
The magical community despised those towering, murderous beings. Even trolls were considered more tolerable than them.
Powerful, savage, bloodthirsty.
That was the image of giants in the minds of wizards.
It was also why, if people ever discovered Hagrid was half-giant, he might not even be able to remain at Hogwarts.
Fleur also had Veela blood, yet she was never truly ostracized—except by a few jealous girls.
"I hope you will heed my advice," Dumbledore looked at the two of them. "If we take action in advance, the entire Ministry of Magic and wizarding world will forever remember these efforts."
His words were tempting, making people want to see it through.
Dumbledore pressed on, adding, "Voldemort will summon his Death Eaters. They will regroup, just like Ardolph Edgar. They are not dead—they have merely been in hiding."
"Ardolph Edgar?! That lunatic!"
Hearing the name of someone who had inspired terror during Voldemort's reign, Amelia immediately recalled unpleasant memories.
Fortunately, Ardolph was dead.
And ironically, his death had been just as deceptive as his past attempts—burned alive by Fiendfyre.
A smile appeared on Amelia's face. That man had slaughtered so many in the Bones family—at last, justice had caught up with him.
But soon, that smile faded.
Voldemort's ranks weren't filled with just one lunatic—there was also Bellatrix Lestrange, still imprisoned in Azkaban.
A heavy silence settled over the room, encompassing both the visiting families and the professors.
Voldemort had returned, yet his downfall still felt like it had happened just yesterday.
A sense of unreality and disorientation clouded their minds.
Snape had provided undeniable proof of the situation.
An hour ago, the Dark Mark on his left forearm had burned hot and turned pitch black.
It was Voldemort's summons for his Death Eaters.
They had also heard Harry and Cedric's testimonies. Hermione voiced her confusion: "Professor, why didn't the Death Eaters respond to the Dark Lord's call?"
Her question made everyone realize this glaring oversight—especially Harry.
He had seen Ardolph activate the Dark Mark with his own eyes, yet even Voldemort had not expected his Death Eaters to ignore the summons.
A flicker of something complex passed through Dumbledore's eyes as he said, "I believe this has something to do with Johnny Silverhand."
At the mention of that name, Harry immediately thought of the silver mask.
He clearly remembered the clash between Johnny Silverhand and Dumbledore.
Dumbledore refrained from elaborating, making Johnny Silverhand seem even more mysterious.
A sharp glint flashed in Barty Crouch Sr.'s eyes—Dumbledore's attitude pleased him.
The more mysterious Johnny Silverhand remained, the better it was for him.
Amelia Bones, however, did not share his view. She was wary of Johnny Silverhand. From ruling Knockturn Alley to being called "The most influential figure of this age," he had always been a thorn on the Ministry's side.
"It seems Lord Johnny Silverhand has a plan."
"Could it be that Johnny Silverhand is trying to use this opportunity to expand his influence?"
Their thoughts were completely at odds.
But for now, that debate was set aside. What they truly wanted was for Dumbledore to openly endorse one of them.
Just like how Cornelius Fudge, that incompetent fool, had secured his position as Minister for Magic with Dumbledore's backing.
Unfortunately, they did not succeed—Dumbledore refused to publicly support either of them.
Neither removing the Dementors nor reaching out to the giants was a decision that either of them could make alone at this moment.
Dumbledore understood this well, so he made further arrangements.
...
Morning.
The first light of dawn broke over the horizon.
Within the Constellation Society, the atmosphere was solemn, tinged with sorrow.
None of them were at school—not even Cedric.
He had run out of the hospital wing and now stood on the small island in the middle of the lake.
Sunlight scattered across the clear water, its shimmering surface breathtakingly beautiful.
Inside the crystal coffin, Heinrich's face had been restored to its former state.
John had used magic—draining his strength to the point of nearly collapsing—just to ensure that Heinrich could rest with dignity.
But while a body could be repaired, life and death could not be reversed.
They stood in silence, watching as their friend was slowly lowered into the earth.
Malfoy remained quiet. Neville turned his gaze away.
Cedric clenched his fists. Percy stood in solemn silence.
Fleur placed a single flower beside him—a sunflower, reaching toward the light.
Daphne gently placed his half-burned wand into Heinrich's hands.
In the heavy silence, John held a handful of earth, his gaze falling on the numb, distant figures.
"Death is close to us."
The soil slipped through John's fingers, falling to the ground.
"Let us send you off one last time, my friend."
As the soil fell, the crystal coffin was sealed shut.
They did not use magic. Instead, with their own hands, they buried Heinrich.
Even though it was messy, no one complained.
As if, in doing so, Heinrich was merely sleeping—not gone forever.
The crystal coffin was enchanted.
Call it John's obsession or his naïveté.
He wanted Heinrich to come back. Until he found a way to reverse life and death, he would preserve Heinrich's body.
"Just rest and.. Wait for me."
After everything was done, John walked up to the numb-looking Kim Ledislay.
He still couldn't accept Heinrich's death.
A hoarse, heavy voice came from the usually cheerful young man. "My lord, tell me… why did he suddenly fall asleep?"
"We had plans…" Kim Ledislay no longer had his usual confidence, nor his carefree smile.
Something was missing from him, but he couldn't find anything to fill the void.
"Kim, I think… he wanted you to have this."
John took out the Constellation Society badge—it had belonged to Heinrich.
Kim stared blankly at it. When he took it into his hands, he murmured, "This was his most treasured possession."
"He said there was light hidden inside… the light he was chasing."
Gently, carefully, he touched it.
A single raindrop fell onto the badge.
Kim whispered, "Is it raining?"
Another drop followed, blurring his vision.
The emotions he had suppressed all night finally broke through.
No one mocked him—they were grieving too.
...
Nightfall, the last day of the school year.
A heavy atmosphere hung over the Great Hall.
Everyone knew now—someone had died.
Heinrich Edgar, the boy who had always seemed like a vampire.
He had also become one of the backbone of Slytherin.
When the students looked toward the Slytherin table, they noticed that several people were missing.
None of them were there—not even Neville was sitting at Gryffindor's table.
Dumbledore observed the scene below with absolute clarity.
"Tonight, I have many things to say to you all," Dumbledore began. "But first, I must solemnly announce that we have lost a truly good person. He should have been sitting here with us, enjoying this feast. He should have returned to his own school. But instead, he sacrificed himself to protect his friends. I ask you all to stand and raise your glasses in honor of Heinrich Edgar."
As the entire Great Hall stood to pay tribute to Heinrich, John was nowhere in sight.
He had already left the school early.
He was at Silverhand Manor.
Tommy could tell that John was in a foul mood. He spoke softly, "My lord, my condolences."
John held a book in his hands, his expression ice-cold.
"Saying that is useless. Tell it to someone who needs it."
On the table lay a document.
As John's signature fell onto the page, the document took effect.
A Death Eater bounty order.
_________
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