"You've got a good plan, going to see her first. Even if she forgives you, I won't. I've always been her favorite," the tall old man said gruffly.
These words caused many of the people present to reflect on what they had just heard.
Who was "she" in this man's words?
Was she Dumbledore's former lover? And what did she have to do with this old man?
As everyone knew, Albus Dumbledore had never married or had children. He had dedicated his entire life to maintaining peace in the wizarding world.
Yet now, someone had suddenly barged into Dumbledore's memorial service and started spouting nonsense, seemingly claiming to be his "love rival."
This was the sort of news that could be announced at a funeral.
It might even become tomorrow's hottest gossip, making the front page of The Daily Prophet.
"What do you want to do?"
Professor McGonagall stood up from her seat and questioned him, her sharp, hawk-like eyes fixed on the man. She raised her wand and pointed it directly at him.
She would not allow anyone to slander or smear Dumbledore.
Especially at his memorial service.
The others also looked at him with varying degrees of hostility.
People in the audience began whispering among themselves, and quite a few recognized the old man. Many of them had visited the Hogs Head Pub, but they had never known that its owner had such a deep grudge against Dumbledore.
The old man ignored them, turning a deaf ear to their reactions.
He took a few more steps forward and suddenly kicked the coffin hard.
Then, with a wave of his hand, he threw down a coarse cloth bundle.
It slammed onto the coffin with a series of crisp metallic clangs.
He continued in his gruff voice, "This is the money you've overpaid over the years. I don't care about it."
After saying this, the old man strode out of the Great Hall.
No one stopped him.
They were simply puzzled.
Given Dumbledore's reputation, who besides the forces of darkness could possibly have such a deep grudge against him?
Perhaps because there were only clothes inside the coffin, no one took any forceful action against the old man.
If Dumbledore's remains had truly been there, even if they had reacted slowly, they would never have allowed an intruder to behave so outrageously.
No one noticed that when the old man reached the end of the path, still within everyone's line of sight, his tall figure had become extremely hunched.
He wiped his eyes.
"But what's the point of me doing this? Maybe she'll forgive you?"
The old man walked to the lakeside, gazed at the vast, deep lake, and sighed.
His brother had passed away.
No matter how much he had hated or despised him, Dumbledore was still his last living relative.
Now, even Aberforth had lost the source of his hatred.
"He's that awful owner of the Hogs Head Pub—the one who charges us four silver Sickles for a single butterbeer."
After Aberforth stormed off, Ron turned to Harry beside him and whispered that he was still annoyed about the old man overcharging him for a few extra Sickles.
Harry nodded blankly, indicating that he also had some impression of him.
After this interlude ended, the memorial service continued, and the short man resumed reading his eulogy.
And it was at this time.
In the underground warehouse of Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England, far from Hogwarts, a long-awaited visitor arrived.
The word "visitor" seemed inappropriate, since he himself was the young master of this manor.
The warehouse was filled with discarded objects.
A magic clock made entirely of gold hung on the wall, but at some point, the faint gold plating on its pendulum had peeled away, leaving behind only a dark-black surface.
The time on its dial was represented by meticulously engraved ancient Roman numerals.
The clock was still running, but its hands behaved very strangely.
Every minute, the second hand would make several laborious swings accompanied by an extremely dry, teeth-grinding creak.
Of course, it had long since been discarded as scrap.
There were also several old, tattered books scattered haphazardly across the dusty floor, their covers curled and worn.
A flash of light appeared and disappeared as the iron gate opened and closed, illuminating the dark stone floor before ending with a crisp metallic clang.
The light cast a long, narrow shadow.
The owner of that shadow was Draco Malfoy.
He had returned to his long-lost home.
However, his parents were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, he found himself in a quiet underground warehouse that had been abandoned for who knew how long.
Malfoy slowly walked toward the corner.
A huge cabinet stood there.
Its two upper corners seemed to be covered in spiderwebs.
A full-length bronze mirror stood beside the cabinet.
Malfoy looked at himself in the mirror.
He hadn't paid attention to his appearance for a long time.
The boy reflected in the mirror was still handsome, though his once-pale complexion was now somewhat darker, and his stubble had not been properly cleaned up.
Even so, he still exuded a resolute and mature air.
As for his clothes, he was wearing a typical brown jacket and a pair of durable jeans.
He had gone through countless sets of wizarding robes during his travels, and they wore out far too quickly during his adventures.
In the end, he had chosen sturdier clothing because it was more suitable for movement.
Dragging a long robe through the wilderness while adventuring was by no means a good choice.
He had only recently returned from afar.
The reason was that he had received a very urgent message.
The warrant for his arrest had lost much of its force, and with his current magical abilities, he had returned with ease.
He needed to get to Hogwarts, but entering through the main entrance did not seem like a good option.
He had also considered using a house-elf's Apparition. House-elf magic was different from wizarding magic and existed as its own system, allowing house-elves to break through certain magical restrictions.
However, Malfoy ultimately abandoned the idea.
Traveling with another person would always bring some inconvenience.
Apart from the person on the other side of the two-way mirror, no one knew that he had returned.
"Now that this matter is resolved, I should let them know I'm safe."
Malfoy thought to himself.
Besides her parents, there was another girl who was definitely worried about his safety.
But now was not the time for sentimentality.
Time was of the essence.
He slowly unrolled a somewhat old, yellowed piece of parchment and spread it across his left hand. Then he raised his wand, illuminating the room.
Malfoy began examining the map in the dim light, carefully scrutinizing every part of the map formed by black ink dots.
For example, he could now see the current Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, as well as the Director of the Auror Office, on his way here.
The former Minister for Magic, who had long since been ousted and was now a wealthy idler named Cornelius Fudge, had also become a small black dot on the Marauder's Map, slowly approaching the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
His gaze then lingered on a narrow corridor on the second floor of the castle.
It was deserted, with not a single dark spot in sight.
This was also the location of Hogwarts' Vanishing Cabinet.
Malfoy took a deep breath.
After confirming that no one was nearby, he stepped into the cabinet.
A powerful pressure from all directions seemed to squeeze him for a moment.
Then the force vanished instantly.
The strange sensation of being peeled apart and transported felt somewhat like Apparition.
First, he felt his body become nothingness.
Then it solidified and took shape again.
In an instant, he appeared inside Hogwarts.
Apparition was not permitted on the Hogwarts grounds.
It was a rule established by the four founders a thousand years ago.
Of course, maintaining such a rule required the support of magical power.
That was the purpose of the restrictions they had jointly established.
At this moment, on the second floor of Hogwarts Castle, in a corridor near the girls' lavatory, no one would pay any attention to a dilapidated cabinet.
Especially since it seemed to have been dangerous in the past. Objects thrown inside would simply disappear.
However, these were actually a pair of Vanishing Cabinets.
The one at Malfoy Manor had already been repaired by Malfoy, and the two cabinets were now connected.
Even after carefully observing his surroundings with the Marauder's Map, however, unexpected oversights could still occur.
As soon as he stepped out of the cabinet, Malfoy immediately turned around and closed it.
Then he raised his wand and cast Confundus and an Exorcism spell on the Vanishing Cabinet.
"Distorting the truth!"
Returning to the campus he had been away from for so long, Malfoy felt somewhat complicated.
Some memories unconsciously surfaced in his mind.
But now was not the time to hesitate.
There was no extra time for him to wallow in self-pity.
Just as he had finished dealing with everything and was preparing to head toward his destination, another unexpected event occurred.
Before he had taken more than a few steps, he saw a female ghost floating in mid-air not far ahead.
She wore a simple gray-black robe, with long, straight, somewhat dry black hair hanging over her shoulders. Thick glasses covered her eyes, and she was leaning against a mural of a half-naked bathing woman on the dark wall.
The female ghost seemed startled.
Then she stared blankly at him with her dull eyes behind her glasses.
"Looks like I'm not having much luck."
Malfoy shrugged slightly, a hint of helplessness in his expression.
Myrtle must have just floated out of the girls' lavatory.
The little black dot representing her name wasn't on the map yet.
"You are... you're the student who ran away last year! Oh my God! I have to tell the professors right now!"
Moaning Myrtle seemed to realize something at that moment and screamed loudly, her face filled with horror.
She was already dead, so Malfoy didn't understand why she was still afraid.
It couldn't be worse than dying again, could it?
Of course, perhaps her fear wasn't entirely unfounded.
There really were things in this world more terrifying than death.
Just then, Myrtle, who was in a state of panic and attempting to flee to deliver the message, suddenly seemed to freeze in place.
It was as though she had been frozen in mid-air by a spell.
"Don't think I can't do anything to you just because you don't have a physical form. Behave yourself and stay quiet. This is a win-win decision for both of us."
Malfoy waved his wand as he spoke, warning Moaning Myrtle.
Her spirit suddenly fell from mid-air, seemingly being forcibly stuffed into a set of dusty armour in the corridor.
She had no mouth and could not speak, but she could still move.
The rusty armour creaked across the floor as she walked, shaking loose a cloud of dust.
In a magical school, having guards like this wasn't unusual, and they probably wouldn't attract much attention.
Even if someone discovered it, Malfoy should have already left by then.
As for why Malfoy had taken the risk of using the Vanishing Cabinet to travel to Hogwarts—
His purpose was to preserve a legacy left by Dumbledore.
That was the message he had received through the two-way mirror.
Having resolved the problem with Moaning Myrtle, Malfoy quickened his pace, appearing and disappearing through long corridors and spiral staircases.
His pace was extremely fast, almost like a whirlwind.
These areas were completely empty.
There wasn't a single person in sight.
The situation was exactly the same as what he had seen on the Marauder's Map.
Almost everyone had gathered in the Great Hall for Dumbledore's funeral.
Meanwhile, inside the Great Hall, everyone was solemnly gazing at the coffin before them.
Malfoy sprinted through the corridors, his sharp eyes occasionally glancing at the Marauder's Map.
He climbed the stairs step by step, finally stopping in front of a hideous, enormous stone gargoyle.
The dark stone wall behind the gargoyle blocked his path.
"Phoenix's Tear."
Malfoy whispered to the gargoyle.
The statue suddenly came to life, leaping to the side.
The wall behind it split in two, revealing a stone staircase.
He climbed the spiral staircase.
Another door blocked his way.
"Dumbledore!"
Malfoy spoke again to a brass door knocker shaped like a griffin on the gleaming oak door.
The door opened once more.
It was unclear when exactly, but two layers of spells had been placed here to strengthen the defenses.
Not only downstairs, but also at the entrance.
Malfoy had come here to retrieve something.
He slowly walked into the spacious circular room and began his search.
Meanwhile, inside the Great Hall, Dumbledore's memorial service continued.
Most people looked solemn.
The students and teachers in particular stared at the coffin with slightly reddened eyes, while some were overwhelmed by grief.
Hermione's eyes were red, and she was still somewhat dazed, unable to believe that any of this was real.
That kind old man, whose face almost always wore a smile, had left them forever.
No one knew what lay beyond the veil.
A thin silk curtain simply separated the world of the living from the dead.
It was the only visible path to death in the world, and no living person could return alive from the other side.
Perhaps what lay behind the veil was not true death.
No one knew.
But to the living, there was no difference.
What difference was there between the living and the dead if they could never see the person who had fallen through the veil again?
Countless Dark Wizards who studied the soul had attempted to summon departed souls from the world beyond the veil, but all had failed.
Only the Resurrection Stone, one of the Deathly Hallows, could summon the souls of those who had died.
Even then, it could only barely break this limitation.
But who could possess a Resurrection Stone?
It had been destroyed long ago.
Moreover, the Resurrection Stone only summoned an illusion.
After a brief moment of satisfaction and reunion with family or loved ones, one would fall into an even more desperate sense of emptiness.