"I will never forgive you!"
"You've made all of Cyrus's efforts meaningless!" Dumbledore roared very, very calmly.
"He could have saved everything—as long as you and Harry's soul faced Death together, you could have defeated Him. Because He could never obtain three immortal souls."
"This..." Grindelwald froze.
Only now did he learn the truth.
"But now it's already too late," Dumbledore said. "Your soul is already shackled, Death's scythe is at your neck. There's nowhere left for you to run—and yet you're still dragging those two children down with you."
In the end, he let out a sigh.
——
The next morning, Professor McGonagall found the old man's lifeless body in front of Dumbledore's grave.
He was lying there, his facial features twisted in sorrow and anguish.
He looked as though he had carved all the sins of the world onto his face—just looking at him made one's heart ache.
No one knew how he had died.
Except Harry.
He saw that Grindelwald's hand had never loosened, even in death—and clutched in that hand was the shattered Resurrection Stone.
"This is Dumbledore's Resurrection Stone," Harry said. "I thought Herpo had taken it away that night."
"Grindelwald must have wanted to use the Resurrection Stone to tell Professor Dumbledore that he had finally avenged him," Hermione said. "But he didn't expect that the Dumbledore who returned from death would be so cold and cruel."
"There's no way he didn't expect it," Ron shook his head. "Don't you remember? He and Dumbledore were the ones who understood the Deathly Hallows better than anyone."
He looked at Grindelwald's corpse, face full of conflict.
"He must've missed Dumbledore so much he went mad… so much that even if it killed him, he still had to see him one last time."
"The prophecy… two parts have already come true," Harry clenched his fists. "Professor Dumbledore was ambushed with the Elder Wand, and Grindelwald committed suicide because of the Resurrection Stone. I bet that version of Professor Dumbledore tormented him."
He was referring to torment of the soul.
And it just so happened that Grindelwald's guilt toward Dumbledore was far too heavy.
Just recounting it once was enough to break that old man.
"Death has already obtained two of the three immortal souls mentioned…" Harry said solemnly.
And what's worse, it had all unfolded exactly as the prophecy foretold.
At that moment, fear gripped their hearts more tightly than ever—it was as if an invisible hand had seized their throats.
A crushing sense of helplessness surged from deep within them.
"Does that mean everything we do is useless?" Hermione asked in despair. "Cyrus and Grindelwald tried so hard to defeat Herpo, but Grindelwald still died…"
"If everything is already fated, then what's the point of anything we do?"
"Hey," Ron couldn't help calling out when he saw her like that, "Honestly, I don't think everything is predestined."
He was unusually serious.
"It's not like that at all!"
"Remember how you always used to force me and Harry to finish our homework? I'd bet if it weren't for you, our grades would've been a lot worse. Don't you get it? You changed us just by being there!"
"But… this is different," Hermione said.
"No, I think Ron's right," Harry also pulled himself out of the negative emotions from earlier. He recalled something Dumbledore had once told him. "You know what? The Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me in Slytherin at first."
"What?!"
"The fuck mate? You're joking, right?!"
Even Ron nearly jumped up at those words.
Harry had always kept this a secret, never even telling them.
"No, I'm not joking. It said Slytherin might be a better fit. In fact, my wand and Voldemort's wand share feathers from the same phoenix. We're really similar, aren't we?" Harry said. "That used to bother me a lot. But Dumbledore told me—we're completely different. Because I chose Gryffindor."
Of course, the house itself wasn't the most important thing.
What mattered most was this: "I chose the path I'm on now—not the prophecy, and not Dumbledore's expectations. He gave me the chance to walk away. Both he and Cyrus told me that if I didn't want to fight Voldemort, they would do it themselves. But I made the choice."
"The truth is, fate has never mattered. What matters is us—what kind of person we want to become, whether we're willing to achieve it ourselves," Harry said.
"Ginny, Hermione, don't let the prophecy weigh on your heart too much," Harry said earnestly. "Otherwise, you'll end up like Voldemort—the more you fixate on it, the worse it becomes."
"That's.. Maybe you're right."
Harry realized he had just learned another lesson from Dumbledore's wisdom.
A true wise man was like that—he could continue to help you grow, even after he was gone. Of course, he also had to admit, his friends were just as wise in their own ways.
Later that morning, they watched as Grindelwald was laid to rest.
The poor old man had almost no funeral. Only the headmistress of Durmstrang, Madam Vinda Rosier, came from afar to pay her respects.
Professor McGonagall had originally hoped she would take Grindelwald's body back with her, but the request was refused.
"Let him rest here," Vinda said. "You and I both know this is a good thing for him, don't we?"
"Yes," McGonagall sighed softly.
In the end, Grindelwald was buried beside Dumbledore. No new grave was erected, as the students of Hogwarts would not mourn for him.
However, Madam Vinda personally carved a single letter—G—into Dumbledore's tombstone.
"This stands for Gellert Grindelwald," Vinda said, "and also for 'the Greater Good.'"
She couldn't help but laugh. So-called "greater good"—in the end, it was still for personal gain.
Every single one of the Alliance supremacists was selfish at heart.
Just like her. From beginning to end, there had only ever been one person she truly desired.
Of course, one forever out of reach... Gellert..
"This place really isn't bad. I suppose someone who never graduated should at least soak up a little knowledge," Vinda joked as she turned to leave.
As for Cyrus, he only learned about it some time later.
When he crossed through time and returned to the present, he immediately heard the news of Grindelwald's death. He didn't even have time to grieve—for in truth, he didn't feel grief.
What he felt was that the burden on his shoulders had grown heavier.
But he couldn't show a trace of exhaustion or fear.
'I don't know how Dumbledore managed to endure all these years, fuck.. all I wanted was to live a influential, rich and care free life while Dumbledore managed this chaotic world....' he thought.
After all, in this world, is there really anyone who is both completely rational and completely strong?
_______
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