The news of Albus Dumbledore's death—and Voldemort's escape—spread across the entire wizarding world within just a few hours, dominating the front pages of most magical newspapers...
Witches and wizards everywhere soon learned of the two shocking events.
In the wake of this incident, all classes at Hogwarts were suspended, and exams were postponed.
Sources revealed that it had become almost impossible to find a bed in Hogsmeade. Countless witches and wizards had poured into the village to pay their final respects to Albus Dumbledore.
Two very different emotions—joy and grief—hung over Britain's only all-wizard village. They lingered in the air around the thatched cottages and small shops. The joy came from the celebration of the Dark Lord's escape once again, while the sorrow came from the loss of a great wizard who had left them forever.
At dawn, a giant powder-blue carriage drawn by winged, silver-maned horses descended from the sky and landed at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The younger students were ecstatic—they had never seen anything like it before. The towering Madame Olympe Maxime stepped down from the carriage, tears streaming down her face, and immediately threw herself into Hagrid's waiting arms.
A delegation from the Ministry of Magic had also arrived, including the Minister herself, Amelia Bones. She had been arranged to stay inside Hogwarts Castle.
In addition, delegations had come from the International Confederation of Wizards, the Wizengamot, the International Quidditch Federation, and many other organizations. Since Hogsmeade Village was already overflowing, they had no choice but to set up tents on the open grounds surrounding Hogwarts.
...
On the day of the funeral, Jon climbed out of the Hufflepuff common room barrel along with several friends and headed upstairs to the Great Hall.
Although he was no longer a Hufflepuff student, Professor Pomona Sprout had warmly insisted that he stay there for the time being... at least until Professor Dumbledore's funeral was over. Other arrangements could be discussed afterward.
When they entered the Great Hall, they found the atmosphere heavy and oppressive.
Nearly everyone was wearing formal dress robes, and hardly anyone seemed to have much appetite.
Professor McGonagall had left the central seat at the staff table empty. Professor Horace Slughorn's chair was also unoccupied—some people guessed he had been injured in the battle that night. Meanwhile, Amelia Bones was seated in Professor Severus Snape's place; Snape himself had vanished without a trace since that same battle.
All the professors were dressed far more formally than usual, and impeccably clean.
Professor Flitwick wore an elegant light-blue robe embroidered with silver thread. Professor Sprout had never looked so neat either—there wasn't a single patch to be seen on her hat.
At the entrance to the hall stood Madam Pince and Filch. She wore a thick black cloak that hung down to her knees, while Filch had put on an old-fashioned suit with a tie. Both of them remained silent.
Professor Firenze, the centaur, stood like a statue in the corner of the staff table, gazing up at the star-filled ceiling. Beside him sat Professor Trelawney, the other Divination teacher, unusually quiet—and for once she had removed that dreadful shawl of hers.
Quiet murmurs of grief drifted through from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables... Many students were mourning their former headmaster of their own accord.
The Slytherin table, however, did not seem quite as steeped in mourning as the other three. Daphne Greengrass had leaned close to her sister Astoria, the two whispering quietly together.
Crabbe and Goyle, the two bulky and slow-witted boys, looked oddly lonely without the pale, lanky figure of Draco Malfoy between them.
...
Even the usually lively Gryffindor table had fallen into an unusual calm.
Harry still could not accept the reality before him... could not accept that the elder he respected and admired so deeply had left him forever. Ever since that night, his mood had remained low.
And Harry also felt that a small piece of his memory was missing. Something had clearly happened at the time—but now he couldn't remember any of it...
Jon had told him that, during that night, the Dark Lord had somehow controlled his mind. The memories from that period had disappeared completely.
Hermione, meanwhile, had somehow dug up a pile of old issues of the Daily Prophet. Even while eating, she kept flipping through them with her wand, searching for something.
"Hermione..." Ron muttered in annoyance. "Professor Dumbledore's funeral is about to start. Could you calm down for a bit?"
Hermione ignored him entirely and continued her search with intense focus.
Harry had already grown used to this behavior over the past few days. She had been like this the whole time.
"Mr. Potter..." a somewhat timid voice called from behind Harry.
Harry turned around and saw a slightly unfamiliar face. He vaguely remembered that she was a younger Gryffindor girl, but that was about it.
"Hello..." Harry said. "And you are...?"
"She's Natalie Pavlova, a third-year," Hermione said without even looking up, still scanning through the newspapers. "Harry, you really should remember the names of your housemates... especially since you're the Gryffindor Quidditch captain."
"Right... sorry..." Harry nodded awkwardly. "Miss Pavlova, what can I help you with?"
"I just... wanted to ask you something... about Mr. Jon Hart," she said softly.
"Jon—"
Harry immediately looked up toward the Hufflepuff table. At a glance, he spotted Jon sitting there, calmly slicing a piece of salmon. From the look on his face, it seemed he had already begun to recover from his grief.
But before Harry could answer the younger girl, Professor Minerva McGonagall suddenly strode into the Great Hall.
The entire hall fell silent in an instant.
...
Professor McGonagall wore her square glasses, her curly black hair pulled tightly into a high bun, and the red tartan robe she had worn at the 1994 Yule Ball.
However, instead of heading straight to the staff table, she walked directly toward the Hufflepuff table.
"Mr. Hart, please come with me."
To everyone's surprise, Professor McGonagall had come for Jon.
And her voice sounded more serious than anyone had ever heard it before.