0336 The Funeral
Kreacher's wailing, which had previously been a mournful accompaniment to the solemn proceedings, suddenly escalated to a shrill and piercing climax, and it was at this moment that Harry and Hermione finally took notice of a peculiar lump concealed beneath the table.
"Dobby, how could you...oh, you're not!" Harry exclaimed inadvertently, his mind momentarily confusing the identity of the strange house-elf before him with that of the familiar house-elf, Dobby. However, he swiftly realized this house-elf was not Dobby, though he could not discern the subtle facial differences between them. At least, he could tell this house-elf appeared much older.
"This is Kreacher, the loyal servant of the Black family," Sirius explained to Harry.
Regardless of the circumstances, as the last remaining legitimate heir of the ancient and noble House of Black, Sirius's approval held immense significance for Kreacher. Upon hearing the affirmation of his master's words, Kreacher's wails intensified, and he began pounding the floor nonstop.
Hermione, who saw Kreacher's tearful appearance, felt a sense of pity and seemed to have something to say after hearing the word "servant."
"I think you still lack a proper understanding of the situation, Harry," Sirius said, his arm encircling Harry's shoulder and smiled sadly.
"Regulus Black was my younger brother. He... He made some regrettable choices in the past, but after realizing his mistakes, he decided to atone for his wrongdoings. And, ultimately, he sacrificed his life in pursuit of that noble cause. This did not happen recently - he has been gone for many years."
Harry nodded, gaining a basic understanding by combining Sirius's words with Dumbledore's previous statements.
"Before, I misunderstood, thinking he had always been a staunch follower of Voldemort. After I escaped from Azkaban and with Bryan's help, I learned the truth about his death. Although it was too late, I still wanted to give Regulus a decent funeral."
It was Professor Watson again.
Hermione and Harry couldn't help but steal glances at the somber figure of Professor Watson, recalling everything they knew about him since they met.
He was an extraordinarily remarkable wizard, seemingly connected to every significant event while possessing the ability to overcome any obstacle.
The funeral proceedings commenced, each attendee forming a solemn circle around the unsung hero whose valiant deeds had been cloaked in obscurity for far too long.
Everyone's faces were solemn, starting with Dumbledore, One by one, each individual present expressed their deep admiration for the courage that Regulus Black had– to confront his own wrongdoings and resist Voldemort when he was at the height of his power. Those who had known Regulus Black also recalled some memories, even Snape, who regarded Sirius as his mortal enemy, dryly said a few words.
Bryan waved his wand, and bright white flames burst out from Regulus's body and the table around it. The flames grew higher and higher, obscuring the body. The white smoke rose into the air, and in a trance, it seemed that everyone saw a dashing young man with a rebellious smile standing in mid-air, waving to them.
When the rites had concluded, the sunset had long since lost its vibrant hues, leaving only a melancholic crimson afterglow that stubbornly clung to the horizon, as though reluctant to bid the day farewell.
Snape departed immediately, his discomfort with the proceedings evident in his haste to distance himself from the situation.
"Potter, Granger, due to your brazen actions of tracking the professors," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the stillness like a blade of ice, her tone devoid of warmth as they emerged from the Forbidden Forest and stood upon the banks of the shimmering Black Lake. "Upon our return to the castle, you will need to report to Filch and obey to his instructions without delay!"
Professor McGonagall had ever been a paragon of fairness and impartiality, and Harry and Hermione had harbored an inkling that such a consequence might befall them.
Professor McGonagall was always fair and impartial, and Harry and Hermione had anticipated this possibility, Nevertheless, Harry could not resist the pang of discomfort that arose at the prospect of being deducted points and assigned detention, particularly in the presence of so many people, including the Headmaster himself. Hermione, on the other hand, felt so ashamed that she wanted to cover her face and jump into the Black Lake a few steps away.
"I personally think this punishment is quite appropriate–"
Dumbledore said with a hint of humor, his silver beard fluttering in the wind. He had already noticed Harry secretly observing his expression and said this witty remark.
Everyone laughed, even Sirius, who had a heavy expression, twitched his lips.
"I don't think it's a big deal," Sirius said, patting the embarrassed Harry on the back.
"When I have time, I'll share some of the interesting things we did with James's invisibility cloak!"
"Please don't make me regret my decision, Sirius," Dumbledore said helplessly. "You must understand a professor's responsibilities extend far beyond imparting knowledge. Many times, you need to set a good example and guide the children in the right direction."
"Professor?!" Harry's mind froze for several seconds before he understood what Dumbledore and Sirius were talking about. He first showed an incredulous expression, but then, with a look of surprise, he looked at Sirius, who was smiling at him.
The conversation then shifted to discussing how Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, though this had been a hot topic for nearly a year.
"Maybe Professor Black, like Professor Watson, has an exceptionally powerful Patronus. He used that spell to drive away all the Dementors!"
Lavender exclaimed in surprise.
"But he'd need to get himself a wand first--"
The previously empty tables were now laden with delicious-smelling food. Hermione finally closed the book Professor Watson had given her and, upon hearing her roommate's unrealistic speculation, said impatiently,
"And, I don't think there is any point in discussing this matter---"
The surrounding students, including Harry and Ron, stared at Hermione in astonishment, as if she had said something unthinkable. Hermione noticed she had become the focus of everyone's attention. She took a deep breath, pursed her lips, rolled her eyes, and shook her head, saying,
"Think about it. No matter how Sirius escaped from Azkaban, the Ministry of Magic wouldn't have released him unless they figured out what happened. They must have taken appropriate precautions, right? That loophole couldn't possibly still exist, unless the Ministry wants to see Azkaban unable to hold anyone ever again!"
Amid the bewildered gazes of students at the other three House tables, a sigh erupted from the middle of the Gryffindor table.
"And I don't understand why you're so excited, Harry--"
Hermione glanced sideways at Harry, who seemed to be planning a future 'study trip' to Azkaban, and said helplessly.
"Have you gone mad, Hermione? That's Sirius Black, Harry's godfather!"
Ron exclaimed in shock.
"I'll bet that whatever way Snape, that wanker treats Harry, he'll treat Malfoy the same. We've been waiting all these years for the appearance of a 'hero' like this. Even Professor Watson wouldn't help us like that!"
Harry nodded vigorously.
"But don't forget--"
Hermione glanced at Sirius at the staff table.
"He's the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and we all know that for some reason, the professors of this subject are particularly prone to misfortunes!"
The smile froze on Harry's face, and now he was the one feeling regretful.
"Damn, I forgot about that!"
Harry slapped his forehead and said,
"Sirius was wrongfully imprisoned by the Ministry for so many years. He must not be aware of the situation. What do you think, should I go and warn him?"
"Don't worry, mate!" Ron frowned and said, "We all know that being the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor isn't a walk in the park, but there have been exceptions, haven't there?"
"You mean like Professor Watson?" Harry's eyes lit up.
"Exactly!"
Ron said thoughtfully, glancing at Professor Watson who was elegantly cutting his lamb chops.
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