Chapter 327: Today is the anniversary of their deaths

"Woah! Cyrus, what are you doing here?"

Harry and the others looked at him in surprise.

After everything that had happened, Cyrus was now regarded almost like one of the professors at Hogwarts. The castle itself recognized him, and Professor McGonagall and the others held him in high esteem.

In fact, at the beginning, McGonagall had even offered him the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Of course, Cyrus declined; that post really belonged to McGonagall.

"We thought you'd be really busy right now," Ginny and Hermione said happily.

"I am fairly busy," Cyrus nodded. "But most of the work can be handed off to others. Breaking the Statute of Secrecy isn't something that can be done in a day or two. What's most important is helping wizards understand why it must be done."

"If the Statute of Secrecy is broken, what will happen to the Muggles?" Hermione asked, a little worried.

Naturally, Cyrus understood her concern.

Hermione was a textbook example of a Muggle-born witch. Both of her parents were Muggles, and they had never even heard of magic before. Wizards like her were the ones who cared most deeply about what happened in the Muggle world.

She was surely worried that once the Statute of Secrecy was broken, Muggles—lacking magical abilities—would face discrimination.

And that concern wasn't unfounded. In fact, Hogwarts itself had a prime example—Filch.

He was a Squib without any magical power. When the fact that Filch was a Squib became known, even Ron couldn't help but secretly laugh at him.

"He envies the power of magic," Cyrus said simply, smiling. "But I think, just like some people are good at math and some aren't, it's nothing worth blaming or mocking."

Hearing that, Hermione felt much more at ease.

She said, "Once we graduate, we can help."

"Then you'll have to become Minister for Magic first," Cyrus joked.

In truth, the current Minister for Magic meant very little to him, and the position of Minister of just the British branch of the Ministry held little sway in the grand scheme of things.

"But.."

"Haha~ Don't worry about all that—time will give us the answers," Cyrus said confidently.

"Then… are you here because of Death?" Harry asked cautiously.

That had been on everyone's minds for some time. Death was like a dark cloud looming over the London sky, casting a persistent shadow over their hearts. They had avoided asking at first, for fear of hearing something they didn't want to know.

"If Grindelwald could pull himself together, you'd have a good ally," Harry said. "Too bad he's a coward."

They were clearly all disappointed—if not disgusted—by the state Grindelwald was in now.

"He is a coward," Cyrus agreed with a nod. He thought back to the time when Dumbledore's sister had died, and instead of facing the consequences with Dumbledore, Grindelwald had run away alone. That memory made Harry's words all the more valid in his eyes.

From a distance, he looked at the vagabond lying beside Dumbledore's grave. Who would believe that this man had once swept across all of Europe?

Still, Cyrus believed Grindelwald wouldn't stay defeated forever.

"Actually, I came to find you, Harry," Cyrus said.

Hearing that, a puzzled look appeared on Harry's face. Ron, on the other hand, had the expression of someone who'd expected it—clearly used to the fact that, no matter who showed up, they always wanted to see Harry first.

As for Ginny and Hermione, they were visibly annoyed.

This Harry fucking Potter again!

If it weren't for Cassandra's existence, they might have started to suspect Cyrus had a thing for Harry.

"Me?"

"I think someone ought to take you to see it."

"What?"

"Godric's Hollow—the place where your mum and dad once lived. And where they're buried," Cyrus said. "Today is the anniversary of their deaths."

That sentence instantly left everyone stunned. The final round of the Triwizard Tournament had taken place during the summer holidays, and so much had happened since then that by the time everything settled down, Harry only just realized—it was Halloween.

Suddenly, he felt completely overwhelmed.

All these years, he had even seen the souls of his parents… yet he had never thought to visit the place where they'd once lived?

If Cyrus hadn't told him, he wouldn't have even realized it was today.

"Come on, I already spoke to Minerva," Cyrus said, gently taking hold of Harry's sleeve. Then he looked to Ron and the others. "Do you want to come too?"

Ron looked tempted, but Ginny and Hermione pulled him back.

"No need," Hermione said. "Let Harry go by himself. He needs this time alone with his parents' gra.. ehm.. " She stepped back with Ginny and Ron. "We'll save you a seat at the feast tonight, Harry."

With that, the three of them left.

Cyrus, still holding Harry's arm, gave one last glance toward Dumbledore's grave bathed in the golden light of sunset—then Apparated.

Godric's Hollow was quite different from the last time Cyrus had been there.

One obvious difference was that it was much more "lively" this time.

With no Dementors patrolling the area anymore, the Muggles' mental state had greatly improved. On this Halloween night, the children of Muggle families throughout the village were dressed in all sorts of strange costumes. Compared to them, Harry's wizard robes didn't stand out at all.

So much so that as the two of them walked down the street, a few children even laughed at Harry, saying his costume was outdated and ridiculously uncool.

Harry found it all incredibly fascinating. He looked around in every direction, his eyes reflecting the flickering glow of jack-o'-lanterns. It had been years since he'd spent Halloween in the Muggle world. And even then, back in the day, he never got to celebrate properly—the Dursleys would rather lock him up at home than let him out to join the fun.

"If you're interested, you can have a bit of fun. It's okay today," Cyrus said.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm not that age anymore."

There was a hint of melancholy in his voice as he spoke. And to be fair, he was in fifth year now—not really the right age to be knocking on doors for candy.

"Then let's go," Cyrus said. "We'll visit the cemetery first."

They continued walking forward when a young boy—also dressed as a wizard—ran past them.

The child held a magical-looking book with an indistinct title, wore Gryffindor-style robes, and clutched a short wand in one hand. Even Harry was startled by the sight.

When did Hogwarts start admitting kids that young? Harry wondered in surprise.

The boy looked no older than six or seven, an age far too young to properly control magic. Running around a crowd of Muggles with a wand in hand seemed incredibly dangerous.

"Hey, kid, don't—" Harry called out quickly, trying to stop him. But the moment the boy turned around, Harry froze where he stood.

—That round face, the messy black hair full of wild energy, the golden-rimmed round glasses, and those bright green eyes peering through the lenses—it was like staring at himself.

For a moment, Harry genuinely thought he was looking at himself.

And maybe, in some way, he was.

Because the boy, upon seeing Harry's outfit, lit up with joy. "Big brother, you like Harry Potter too?" the boy asked, beaming with excitement like he'd just found a fellow fan.

Without hesitation, he opened the book he had been clutching.

Harry finally caught a glimpse of the title.

It was indeed a book of magic. The title read: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

It took them a bit of effort to finally say goodbye to the little boy, and Harry was left with a strange feeling.

"So… this is the book you talked to me about before?" Harry asked.

He kept staring at the cheerful child's small figure as he skipped away, the whole experience feeling incredibly surreal.

In truth, Harry had long since gotten used to his name appearing in books. On Hermione's very first day meeting him, she had listed several titles that chronicled his defeat of the Dark Lord.

But this was clearly different.

A child had dressed up like him—he even had a lightning bolt sticker on his forehead!

"I really want to know what that book says about me," Harry muttered.

He was clearly a bit uneasy, especially after learning that the one writing the story for the muggles was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart—that only made him more anxious.

"Don't worry, I'm overseeing the content myself," Cyrus said with a grin. "I guarantee it's the authentic Harry Potter. If you really want to read it, we can stop and pick up a copy before heading back to Hogwarts."

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