250: Death and Lantation
Death.
Silence.
The Fiendfyre roared.
The flas stretched their shadows long.
John stood in silence, facing the withered corpse.
Wordlessness was the loudest echo—so piercing, so deafening.
His hands trembled.
Cedric's face was no longer handso.
Tears and snot covered it completely.
"I didn't… I didn't save him. It's all my fault."
Cedric was drowning in guilt. It was because of him that Heinrich had co here.
It was because of him that Heinrich had chosen to perish alongside Ardolph.
If he had never entered the Triwizard Tournant, maybe none of this would have happened.
"It's not your fault, Cedric," John closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm.
All the words in his mind condensed into a single sentence.
"Let's go back."
Yes, back.
Back to the Constellation Society.
Back to the place they had built together.
John struggled to hold onto his sanity.
His friend, his right-hand man—Heinrich Edgar... Was dead.
Dead in a raging fire.
Edgar, who had walked through darkness, had perished in flas ant to protect.
At the root of it all, John hated himself for not arriving sooner.
If he had co earlier, none of this would have happened.
His hand reached into his pocket, where the golden locket he had risked his life for lay.
There was no joy in obtaining it.
If securing a Horcrux ant sacrificing soone, he would rather have stayed out of this ss altogether.
Four years at Hogwarts.
He had grown arrogant.
The identity of Johnny Silverhand, with all its vast resources, allies, and money, had made him complacent—made him believe he could stand against Voldemort.
Reality had slapped him in the face.
He had beco the king of Knockturn Alley, the king of Slytherin.
Perhaps he should have been basking in glory.
But now, all he had was desolation.
"Nothing cos without a price."
A fundantal rule of alchemy.
To gain sothing ant to lose sothing in return.
He had thought he had lost enough already.. But.. Nothing had ever hurt as much as this.
Without a word, Kim lifted the corpse into his arms and gave John a slight nod.
The only ones who had co from Hogwarts were Dumbledore and Kim Ledislay.
Moody's wooden leg had been found in the maze—
A special Portkey, a one-way, single-use transport.
But Heinrich had thought of another way—searching through the Vanishing Cabinet.
So, he had left a ssage on the wooden leg, then rushed ahead to use the Vanishing Cabinet to get here.
Kim had imdiately recognized Heinrich's handwriting and had also hurried to Moody's office, using the Vanishing Cabinet to follow.
He had arrived only monts before Dumbledore, just in ti to watch Heinrich beco engulfed by the Fiendfyre—yet he had been powerless to extinguish it.
Dumbledore had tracked the one-way Portkey's destination and used Fawkes to teleport.
Their arrivals had followed one after another, and then John had co.
John picked up the badge and the ring, his fingers trembling slightly as he gently slipped the ring onto his hand.
Tommy remained silent—he knew there was no need to speak.
The security team was also quiet, suffocated by the aura radiating from John.
This was his first natural magical outburst. Not induced by drinking the Blood of Magic.
That overwhelming sense of power—yet it brought him no joy.
He could not bring back a life that was already gone.
Just as John was about to lead everyone away, he was called to a stop.
Snap! Crack!
"Peter Pettigrew?"
A series of loud cracks echoed as more people Apparated in.
Among them, Harry spotted Peter Pettigrew.
The traitor who had betrayed his parents.
The man responsible for his godfather's wrongful imprisonnt.
Hatred surged in Harry. Even when he had read about Pettigrew's escape in the newspapers, he had seen how furious Sirius had been.
He didn't know who these people were, but they had captured Peter Pettigrew.
Harry urgently turned to Dumbledore, ready to rush forward.
Dumbledore had noticed too and stopped him.
"Sir Johnny Silverhand, would you be willing to hand this man over to for judgnt?"
Having witnessed Voldemort with his own eyes, Dumbledore knew—he needed to start laying the groundwork.
There was no better testimony to convince the public than Peter Pettigrew's.
Only by mobilizing the entire wizarding world did they stand a chance of defeating Voldemort.
As he was now, even with the Elder Wand, he could not win.
He was old.
Ti was the most powerful magic—one even the greatest wizards could not resist.
So he spoke, hoping John would hand over Pettigrew, and fearing that in his fury, John might do sothing irreversible.
John halted, turning to look at Dumbledore.
Once, he had held deep respect for the old man.
Now, that respect was entirely gone.
"Dumbledore," John said coldly, "we'll settle our accounts sooner or later."
He didn't bother with courtesy. He had no interest in so-called higher causes.
Even Tommy couldn't help but widen his eyes—this was Dumbledore they were talking about.
Tommy, who knew John's true identity, understood the weight of those words. A student openly declaring a reckoning with his own headmaster.
"I don't need your help anymore, and you should stop expecting anything from ."
Under Dumbledore's gaze, John Disapparated.
One by one, the others followed suit, vanishing.
Only Harry and Dumbledore remained, along with the Fiendfyre, now unrestrained by magical suppression.
Even if he couldn't defeat Dumbledore, John still wanted to leave him with so trouble.
…
Harry went back.
Dumbledore brought him back.
And he was the only one who did.
Everyone wanted to know what had happened, but Harry was still trapped in the horrors of what he had just experienced.
As soon as Dumbledore returned, he launched a full-scale search of the school.
Barty Sr. brought in a team of Hit Wizards, and they eventually found Moody wandering aimlessly in the Forbidden Forest.
He had been Confunded, his mind in a daze.
Once Moody regained his senses, he imdiately realized what had happened.
For all this ti, he had been under the effects of a Confundus Charm, sotis even forced to teach classes in Ardolph's place.
Because of the Confundus Charm, his lessons had been wildly inconsistent—by his own words, an absolute ss.
Sirius arrived at the school just in ti for the final task.
His expression was grim—his godson had been in danger right under his nose.
He was deeply worried about Harry, checking him over for any injuries.
Cedric also returned ho. When his parents saw their son's blank expression, his mother broke into tears.
"I'm sorry, I just want to talk to my friends for a bit."
Forcing a smile, Cedric excused himself and, under his parents' worried gazes, went to find the mbers of the Constellation Society.
"What the hell happened?"
Malfoy was furious—he wanted answers.
Cedric didn't know how to start. His throat felt like it was blocked with stones.
"It must have been Dumbledore who saved you, right?" Neville guessed.
Daphne and Fleur also looked at Cedric, just as eager to know the answer.
"..Heinrich is ...dead."
After saying those words, Cedric wasn't even sure how he numbly explained everything before leaving.
All he knew was that, on that day, he didn't want to say another word.
...
In the hospital wing.
Barty Sr. ca to check on the two champions, but Cedric remained silent the entire ti.
After everyone had left, Harry, lying on the bed next to him, finally spoke.
"Do you know him? That… Johnny Silverhand."
Harry couldn't forget that gaze—it was one that could swallow a person whole.
Ardolph, Voldemort, Johnny Silverhand.
Everything he had experienced today—he would never forget for the rest of his life.
Cedric was silent for a mont before suddenly asking, "Harry, why did Professor Dumbledore choose to save you first?"
Harry froze.
He had never considered that question before.
Hearing Cedric ask it now, he didn't know what to say.
Say that he looked more in danger?
But at that ti, Heinrich was already burning in the Fiendfyre.
"Maybe… Professor Dumbledore saw that I couldn't hold on any longer." Harry's voice lacked confidence as he said this.
Cedric didn't respond. He just lay there.
"I'm sorry about Edgar's death, I—"
"You don't have to say anything," Cedric spoke bitterly. "Don't say anything, Harry."
Their conversation ended.
Because they both knew that continuing wouldn't change anything.
Neither Heinrich's life nor the question of whether Dumbledore was biased.
Harry felt awful. He knew he shouldn't feel this way.
Compared to a life lost, everything he suffered was insignificant.
Heinrich had saved him, yet he couldn't do anything.
For the first ti, he felt lost about his own beliefs.
He had always thought that not all Slytherins were bad, but most of them were.
Like Ron had said, back in Voldemort's ti, nearly all Slytherins beca Death Eaters.
Heinrich wasn't exactly a Slytherin, but he had all the qualities of one.
Harry thought maybe—just maybe—he had misjudged Slytherin.
____
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