A profound silence enveloped the scene, broken only by the patter of rain against the windows.
Most of those present were deeply moved by the words, especially the pure-bloods from Slytherin, whose eyes reflected complex emotions.
However, a discordant voice abruptly shattered the quiet.
It belonged to a pale-faced wizard with thin, light hair and narrow, squinting eyes. A disagreeable smirk played on his lips, like a vulture scenting carrion.
"Ah, what a truly touching eulogy, Mr. Greengrass…"
He drew out his words, the contempt in his voice almost palpable.
"To package a Death Eater who fled in panic and died a violent death as a hero who endured humiliation and burden? This indeed requires… extraordinary imagination."
He took a step forward, his gaze sweeping over Regulus's remains as if appraising a flawed commodity.
"But why should we believe a Black—a Death Eater—who suddenly converted to the light? This family is known to produce madmen and Dark wizards far more often than heroes. Are we to believe a story full of holes? Perhaps he merely failed a mission and was executed by his master, and you… simply found a pathetic corpse and are using it to gild the name of this decaying family?"
The malicious words echoed through the Great Hall, attempting to tarnish the solemnity that had only just been established.
Sirius's face instantly turned ashen, and he clenched his wand tightly. An uneasy stir rippled through the crowd.
"I found it suspicious from the start. First, Sirius Black was suddenly cleared of his crimes not long ago, and now his brother is being vindicated. A murderer, a Death Eater—what a coincidence…"
Sagres's gaze slowly turned toward the wizard, and the temperature of the entire hall seemed to drop sharply.
"Are you questioning the truth of what I said…"
"Or are you questioning me?"
He looked calmly at the wizard. A powerful aura of magic instantly blanched the man's face, causing him to involuntarily take half a step back.
"Regarding Regulus Black's sacrifice, there is no room for 'discussion.' Because this is an undeniable fact. If you, or anyone else…"
His gaze swept over the Ministry of Magic officials and those with doubtful expressions. "…cannot maintain the most basic respect for this, then I give you the opportunity to leave now."
As he spoke, the calmness on his face vanished, replaced by cold authority.
"But if someone insists on defiling the reputation of a resistor, on slandering a heroic victim… then I guarantee the next funeral they attend will be their own."
This blunt and fierce threat silenced the entire hall. Even the Ministry of Magic officials were too stunned to speak.
The wizard recoiled as if burned, retreating in terror and almost tripping over his robes, no longer able to maintain his malicious facade.
"Now," Sagres's voice echoed in the silent hall, "get out of here immediately. While I can still control myself and not let your filthy blood defile the resting place of the deceased."
The wizard fled the Great Hall at once, as if avoiding a plague, disappearing into the curtain of rain.
The funeral ultimately concluded with solemn dignity, and Regulus's remains were interred in the House of Black cemetery to rest with his ancestors.
The afterglow of the ceremony lingered in the chilly air.
The guests had all departed, leaving behind a room full of withered flowers and the steady sound of rain.
Kreacher sat motionless, clutching the locket all day, his hunched back seemingly transformed into a sorrowful sculpture.
Sagres stood by the window, gazing at the continuous rain outside, his eyes deep and distant.
Dumbledore had just spoken with him in low tones before taking his leave. The old Headmaster had originally wanted Sagres to hand over the Horcrux to him, but Sagres had firmly refused.
Many people had offered Sirius their condolences again before leaving. Sirius now took a deep breath, trying to dispel the heavy weight in his chest.
He turned to Sagres. "Professor… thank you for everything you've done. Without you, Regulus might never have…"
He choked up, unable to continue.
Sagres slowly turned around, his expression once more calm and composed.
"To let the deceased rest in peace and ensure the truth is not buried—this is simply what we, the living, should do."
He took out the ominously glowing locket from an inner pocket of his robe.
It lay quietly in his palm, the cold metal and eerie green gem glimmering in the dim light like a sleeping demon.
Harry stood quietly to the side. He looked at his godfather, then at Sagres, and couldn't help but ask, "Professor, you said earlier… this is the second Horcrux you've seen. What about the first one…?"
Sagres's gaze shifted to Harry. He was silent for a moment, as if weighing something.
"The first," he finally said, his voice low, "was also an item imbued with powerful dark magic. Their forms were completely different, but the core—that nauseating aura—was identical."
Sagres confirmed, his fingertips gently brushing the locket's cold surface. The object seemed to tremble slightly under his touch.
Sirius frowned deeply. "What do you plan to do with this one?"
He gestured toward the locket with his chin, his eyes full of disgust.
"Direct destruction is most people's first choice, and perhaps the safest approach."
Sagres said slowly, tightening his grip on the locket. "But this also means the trail goes cold. Voldemort wouldn't have made only two Horcruxes. This locket, and the one I encountered before, are just part of his mad endeavors."
His gaze sharpened, as if he could see through the locket to the soul fragment residing within.
"A fragment of his soul is imprisoned inside—twisted and insane—but it must carry memories and connections from when it was made. Perhaps… I can glean clues about the other Horcruxes or their hiding places from it. That would be far more efficient than us blindly searching the wizarding world like headless chickens."
Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, though worry lingered in his eyes over what Sagres was about to face. "Professor, if you need any help…"
"If I truly need it, I will say so."
Sagres replied simply, "Things here are concluded. I need to return to Hogwarts."
He did not linger and politely declined the invitation to dinner.
After bidding farewell to Harry and Sirius, Sagres's figure vanished into the green flames rising from the Black family fireplace.
The familiar magical aura of Hogwarts Castle enveloped him, dispelling the gloom of Grimmauld Place.
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