That night, after the residents of Godric's Hollow had all gone to bed, the wizards formed a silent line and passed through the streets until they reached the village's desolate graveyard.
Dumbledore's white robes gave off a faint, holy glow in the darkness, soft rather than dazzling. He passed through the rows of headstones and walked toward the depths of the cemetery.
Ariana was buried beside her mother.
Green moss marked the black headstone.
Skyl came to Dumbledore's side and lowered his head to read the inscription, Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
The Gospel of Matthew said the same. Earthly treasures were easy to lose, but the treasures of the heart endured forever.
"Professor, is there anything you'd like to say before we open the coffin?"
Dumbledore savored the inscription for a moment, then said hoarsely, "Haven't I said enough tonight? And opening the coffin sounds truly spine-chilling. Let us finish this quickly."
He waved the Elder Wand. The grass covering the grave pulled up its own roots and hurried away with tiny huffing steps, revealing the soft black earth below. With another wave of the wand, the soil bubbled and flowed like spring water, slowly pumping the deeply buried coffins up to the surface.
Two wooden coffins were buried in one grave, one large and one small, keeping each other company.
A gentle magical breeze swept past, softly brushing away the confused earthworms and millipedes lingering on the coffin lids.
"Ariana, your brother is taking you home."
Dumbledore tapped the smaller coffin lightly with his wand. The lid slid aside, revealing the decayed remains within. The beautiful, youthful body of flesh and blood was gone, leaving only a small set of pale bones and a head of dull golden hair. Her arms were folded across her pelvis, preserving the posture of the body as it had been laid to rest.
The wizards fell silent. Some lowered their heads in mourning, while others looked into the distance.
"Skyl, how much do you think would be appropriate?" Dumbledore asked for Skyl's opinion.
"Given the power of the resurrection potion, the amount of bone won't affect the reconstruction of the body. One piece would work. Taking all of it would work too."
Dumbledore nodded. He removed his white robe and used it to wrap Ariana's bones. Then he cast a spell to restore the grave. The coffin that held his mother sank back into the earth, and the soft rustle of friction sounded like one long sigh.
Next, they went to find the Potters' grave.
It was only two rows of headstones away, and the white marble marker stood out clearly.
James Potter
Born March 27, 1960
Died October 31, 1981
Lily Potter
Born January 30, 1960
Died October 31, 1981
Epitaph: The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
That line of words seemed to shine, like a subtle warning.
The Potters' coffins were opened. On the clean white bones, each body was missing part of a finger.
Only no one paid much attention. Perhaps some underground insect had gnawed the bones away.
Lily did not dare look directly at her own corpse, so she gently took James's hand. The warmth and strength from his palm kept the chilly early-summer night from feeling bone-deep cold.
Sirius and Remus gathered up the remains, preparing to take them all away.
Snape staggered backward until he stood at the very back of the group.
He watched everyone's movements. He watched their backs, heavy with surging emotion. He watched them work in an orderly fashion, while he himself remained motionless, like an outsider.
On the way back, everyone was very quiet, almost exhausted. After they returned to Hogwarts, they each rested. At dawn, they gathered in the White Tower and made the final preparations for the resurrection ritual.
On the third day, the Quidditch final began.
Harry had sent invitations to Sirius, Remus, James, and Snape, hoping they would come watch the match.
Snape was a wretch. He looked down at the boy and said coldly, "No one cares about watching you show off."
James agreed. He said he would definitely be there. Sirius and Remus also said they would come.
But by the time Harry's broom rose into the clouds, they still had not shown up.
The sunlight was dazzling, and the grass of the Quidditch pitch was hot from the sun.
Madam Hooch, the referee, announced, "Mount your brooms. Three, two, one…"
Tweet!
The whistle shot out like an arrow.
The players kicked hard off the ground and climbed rapidly, like fourteen startled sparrows.
"The match has officially begun, and players from both sides are in the air. Gryffindor has possession now. Chaser Spinnet is carrying the Quaffle straight toward the opposing goalposts. Can she score? Oh! What a pity, Slytherin's Warrington intercepted that one. He's charging across the pitch now, unstoppable.
"Beautiful! The Bludger hit by George Weasley successfully interferes with Warrington, and the Quaffle is loose. We can see that both sides have entered a fierce stage right from the start. There's plenty of bad blood in this match."
The loud cheers from the stands drew Skyl's attention back.
He took out a pair of binoculars to watch the match.
The best weather for watching Quidditch was actually an overcast day. If the light was too strong, it made the players' figures hard to track, and if one accidentally glanced at the sun, the feeling was far from pleasant.
Still, clear weather had its advantages. At the very least, the Golden Snitch's shiny shell would reflect a dazzling light, making the tiny thing flying all over the place more noticeable.
Skyl soon discovered the Golden Snitch. It was flying low along the edge of the pitch, and for the moment, neither Seeker had any idea where it was.
"Angelina scores! Gryffindor gets the first goal and takes a ten-zero lead! Oh, no! The opposing team's captain deliberately bumped Angelina. That's an obvious foul!" the commentator protested indignantly.
Skyl asked Percy beside him, "Hey, isn't Angelina the girl Fred always talks about?"
"That's her." Percy still cared a great deal about his younger brothers, and he knew that Fred, one of the twins, had a crush on Angelina.
Without Skyl, during the war a few years later, Fred would have died in battle against the Death Eaters, and his brother George would have married Angelina in his place.
Skyl noticed Fred reaching into the pocket where he usually hid his Alchemical Bombs.
"No way…" Skyl clicked his tongue. "I'm about to see rivers of blood."
Fortunately, Fred ultimately restrained himself and did not turn into a pitch bomber. Otherwise, the list of Quidditch rule violations would have gained another entry.
The match continued. Both teams were fired up, and Slytherin often played dirty little tricks, acting like sore losers with no sportsmanship at all. Gryffindor also launched active counterattacks.
Because of physical clashes, Madam Hooch awarded several penalties to both sides.
In terms of the score, Gryffindor had maintained the lead the whole time. Wood was a good Keeper, and his success rate at blocking the opposing side's penalty shots was not low.
Gradually, the gap between the two teams widened to sixty-ten. In a Quidditch match, that was still far from decisive. After all, the Golden Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.
The Gryffindor supporters in the stands had nearly shouted themselves hoarse. At that moment, someone noticed that thick leaden clouds had gathered in the sky at some point, moving rapidly from the northern heavens until they soon covered the sky above Hogwarts.
"It's not going to rain, is it?" the spectators muttered inwardly.
A bone-chilling cold front swept through the low sky for dozens of miles around, instantly driving away the damp heat of early summer. The students who had rolled up their sleeves to cheer silently pulled them back down.
"Look over there!"
The spectators reminded one another, and everyone looked toward the northern cliff. Above the White Tower, the lead-gray clouds slowly rotated around a central point, like a giant vortex.
Such an abnormal sight was shocking enough to leave people stunned and at a loss.
"So it's begun," Skyl thought, understanding clearly.
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