Chapter 1037
Elegy
Chapter 1037 Elegy
Soon, the professors in the faculty seats also heard the news. There was an initial burst of incredulous discussion, but after receiving confirmation from Dumbledore, they all quieted down.
Professor Sprout raised his hand to wipe his eyes, and said sadly, "What a pity...she was so young..."
At the head table, the students who had initially thought it was a rumor finally had to believe it. Gryffindor's Lee Jordan rubbed his nose and said in a muffled voice:
"Actually, she was my favorite professor... At times like this, I feel we need a lament."
He thought he would hear a tacit response, but when he turned around, he didn't see the twins' familiar red hair.
Lee Jordan then remembered that something had happened to the Weasleys, and the twins, Ron, and Ginny weren't there.
A double sense of loss gripped him, making him feel even more upset.
Just then, Angelina Johnson, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, suddenly picked up the silver knife beside her and gently tapped the glass in front of her.
"Ding!"
After the crisp sound, Angelina lowered her eyes, watching the juice in the glass ripple gently, and began to hum softly:
The castle walls remember the soft sound of your footsteps.
The spiral staircase still echoes with your laughter.
The portrait in the long corridor spoke in a low voice last night.
They said a figure would never pass by the window again…
This is a eulogy written by students in remembrance of Doris De Winter, a renowned headmistress in Hogwarts history, when she passed away in office.
At first, only Angelina's voice could be heard in the auditorium.
But soon, Aria Spinnett next to her started humming along, followed by Katie Bell a few seats away.
The sounds flowed like streams from the Gryffindor table to Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw students, including some Slytherins, joined in one after another.
With the exception of a few individuals—such as Blaise Zabini with a disdainful smirk and Pansy Parkinson with a somewhat bored expression—the rest of the people lowered their heads and listened quietly.
The younger students didn't know Professor Abigail, but they were more emotional and soon their eyes welled up with tears as the song played.
"Candlelight, please bow your head."
Starlight, please anchor here.
Let the raven carry away the unfinished letter.
Let the lake water shelter the songs we sing to you.
Sleep, sleep, in the moonlight over the clock tower.
Sleep, sleep, in the corner of the greenhouse…
The singing wasn't loud, but it filled the entire auditorium, drowning out the last clatter of cutlery and whispers.
Crabbe and Goyle of Slytherin insisted on putting a piece of cake in their mouths, but eventually, they were overwhelmed by the atmosphere and could no longer eat, so they hesitantly put down their forks.
At the teachers' table, Professor McGonagall pulled out a square handkerchief and quickly and forcefully pressed it to the corner of her eye, her jaw clenched tightly. Professor Sprout sobbed incessantly, his plump shoulders trembling slightly. Professor Flitwick, his eyes red-rimmed, swayed and sang along softly.
Professor Snape stared blankly at the breakfast on his plate, as if trying to see something extraordinary in it; no one knew what he was thinking.
The song continued to spread, carried by the winds of the castle. In the castle corridors and the principal's office, countless portraits opened their eyes, as if listening silently.
However, according to common sense, the sound from the auditorium would not reach these places.
The wind that swept across the stands swirled between the seats.
The quill pens in the library are waiting for the ink to dry.
The communal fire suddenly dimmed.
They said the armchair lacked a warm, supportive weight.
Candlelight, please bow your head.
Starlight, please anchor here.
Let memories solidify into the growth of stalactites.
Let your name be etched into the river of magic history. The wind will remember, the rain will remember.
The oak door remembers who once sat by it…
The dirge was sung again and again until finally the song gradually stopped, leaving only the lingering melody echoing in the silence.
There was more food left over from breakfast that day than usual, and everyone was so immersed in grief that they had no appetite.
After the meal, the students gradually got up, left the long table, and quietly walked towards the castle's heavy gate.
Their luggage had already been packed and delivered to the Hogwarts Express by dutiful house-elves.
Outside the castle, dawn was just breaking, and a chilly breeze swept in. Hagrid had already harnessed the carriage and was waiting quietly in the twilight.
Wade walked to an empty carriage and stopped.
He looked at the Thestral's skull-like head and bat-like wings, and its white, misty eyes that seemed to be staring at death.
He reached out and gently stroked the Thestral's rugged back. The Pegasus obediently lowered its head and exhaled a breath carrying a chill.
In a daze, Wade felt as if he could still hear the low, distant elegy echoing faintly in the cold air of the auditorium:
"Go through the mist drifting across the Black Lake!"
Let's go, stepping on the unmelted frost on the covered bridge!
When snowflakes fall on the castle's spires,
We would say—
You were simply invited by the glittering silver unicorn.
"Walk along a starry river that has no end..."
Vader turned and took a deep look at the castle standing in the morning light. Warm light shone from the windows of the towers, like steadfast guardians in the night.
He turned and stepped onto the waiting carriage, a clear and icy resolve, unlike anything he had ever felt, gradually solidifying and taking shape in his heart.
sacrifice.
Abigail sacrificed herself just to tell them that there were enemies lurking behind the scenes; Mr. Weasley's attack was the cruel price of complacency and goodwill, and also a victim of Voldemort's ambition.
Dumbledore's repeated admonitions and somber gaze seemed to say that if necessary, he would also choose to sacrifice himself to secure a future for the rest of them.
Wade disliked sacrifice.
No matter what the final outcome, the loss of comrades is an irreversible and ultimate loss, a cruel price that no amount of resources can offset.
The carriage quickly filled with people, and the Thestral lifted its hooves and began to move slowly forward. The carriage swayed and rocked, and the lamps on the frame flickered along with it.
Vader stared ahead, his grey pupils reflecting the trees rushing past the window. Deep within his eyes burned a light of unwavering determination.
He will do everything in his power to prevent this from happening again.
He wouldn't let his friends wither away silently like Abigail, wouldn't watch his relatives and friends fall behind the curtain due to negligence, wouldn't let an old man like Dumbledore bear everything alone until he was exhausted, and wouldn't let countless children lose their future before they even grow up.
He may not be able to foresee all the crises or stop all the conspiracies, but he can do better, be more proactive, and be more thorough!
He will use his mind, his puppets, his perspective connecting the two worlds, and all the resources he possesses to build a stronger defense, establish more acute early warning systems, and devise more precise countermeasures.
He wanted to make protection proactive and effective, so that sacrifice was no longer the only or last resort.
A dirge is sung for the deceased.
But he wants to pave the way for the living!
(End of this chapter)