The wizards in the White Tower woke one after another. Everyone began trembling uncontrollably, not only because they had experienced death, but also because the temperature around them was terrifyingly low. The white frost on the floor had already turned to ice. The cultivation tanks were nearly frozen solid, and a thick layer of frost flowers covered the cauldron's surface. Their wizard robes had frozen stiff, and the sweat in their hair had turned into beads of ice.
It was as if winter had descended in an instant. The outer layer of the entire White Tower was also coated in ice, and even the door hinges had frozen shut.
"Albus! Albus!" Grindelwald clutched his head and shouted. "Are you dead?"
"I'm alive, Gellert," Dumbledore shouted back.
"Where's that damned Death? Did you deal with him?"
"He fled."
"Then congratulations. From now on, the legend of the three brothers will no longer have all the glory to itself. Albus, did Death give you any reward?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly. He gently stroked the Elder Wand in his hand and said with a smile, "Perhaps there was a reward. But Lord Death was likely not willing to give it."
The Elder Wand had a powerful spirit. It only submitted to the strong. Because of this well-known trait, it brought its current wielder the curse of fame. Wizards who pursued power always turned their eyes toward this mighty Deathly Hallow, constantly trying to kill the Elder Wand's master and take it for themselves.
Throughout history, almost no holder of the Elder Wand had ever come to a good end.
Now that Dumbledore had repelled Death, he was probably the most legitimate holder of the Elder Wand. This wand would never again acknowledge another wizard.
"Merlin, the cauldron! The cauldron is frozen!" Lily was the first to notice something was wrong.
The smile on Dumbledore's face vanished in an instant. The terrible accident brought by Death was far from over.
Though alarmed, he did not panic. He first checked Ariana's soul state and confirmed that she had not been affected by the accident. If her soul had been damaged and her resurrection affected, the situation would have been truly disastrous.
Sirius and Remus carefully poked their heads over to observe the inside of the cauldron. The resurrection potion had not frozen, but Ariana's young body had been chilled until her little face was deathly pale, even whiter than the Gandalf-white robe wrapped around her.
"She's freezing! Hurry and take her out to warm her up!" Sirius cried out.
"Wait! The cauldron has cracked again! While the magic hasn't disappeared yet, hurry and resurrect her!" James shouted anxiously.
The cracks on the cauldron's surface had split open from the freezing death aura, and scarlet resurrection potion was seeping out in streams.
"But her current physical condition isn't very good!"
"There's no time to hesitate!"
Dumbledore made the decision at once and nodded to his sister's soul. Ariana threw herself into the cauldron.
A hazy purple radiance bloomed across the cauldron's surface. On the relief, the carved image of the Celtic chief god Dagda laughed loudly, and the spirits of the cauldron blew horns for the return of the dead.
When the purple spiritual light faded, the cauldron shattered with a bang.
The scarlet potion washed away the solid ice and surged across the floor like that River Styx, but the girl who drifted in from the surface had already put on the white robe and stood up beautifully. Though there was no color on her face, her heart held real warmth.
This girl of tragic fate had returned to the world of the living. Her brother had become the most powerful wizard of the twentieth century, joined a cross-dimensional organization of spellcasters, and obtained profound knowledge from otherworldly demon gods, all so that they could meet again today.
How far must one walk before all this frost and snow could be washed away?
"Albus." Ariana was speechless for a moment, then flew into her brother's arms like a young swallow returning to the woods. Her face buried itself in her brother's long white beard that hung down to his waist, and her arms wrapped around his old but sturdy frame. It felt as comfortable as curling up in a lion's mane.
"Ari."
"You've gotten so much fatter."
"Yes. I ate a lot of sweets."
"I want some too."
"All right. You're back. That's all that matters. You're back." Dumbledore enjoyed this brief peace.
Snape stared desolately at the cauldron fragments scattered across the floor.
The most important item in the ritual could no longer be saved. Unless Nicolas Flamel came back to life, the wizarding world would never find a second alchemist capable of recasting the cauldron.
The pain of shattered hope was unbearable.
Lily and James, on the other hand, let out a sigh of relief. They had been worried that the soul-summoning ritual would fail to call their souls, or that the resurrection potion would reconstruct their bodies. No matter how one looked at it, there would have been no way to explain that scene.
"It's over. It's all over. Damn Death," Sirius muttered bitterly.
"Oh, do not blaspheme Death. Albus, where did Death go?" Ariana asked in a trembling voice.
"I drove him away. Now…" Dumbledore frowned and looked uncertainly toward the main castle to the south. "He went in that direction."
The others had still not recovered from the shock of the cauldron shattering. Hearing Dumbledore's words, they immediately realized that the students might be in danger.
James's face changed drastically with fright.
"Harry!" he roared hoarsely, scrambling and stumbling toward the corner. He grabbed an iced-over broom, kicked off with both legs, shot into the air, and vanished through the window in a flash.
Dumbledore shouted, "Everyone, only a Patronus can repel Death. Cast [Expecto Patronum] with me and protect our students."
The wizards present worked together, raising their wands high as they chanted the incantation.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Dumbledore's phoenix flew out, followed by Sirius's great dog and Remus's wolf. Snape waved his wand, and a small silver doe flew forth.
From Lily's wand tip, a doe also flew out. The two of their Patronuses were almost identical.
When Snape saw the teaching assistant's Patronus, that familiar form seemed to walk out from the depths of his memory.
His eyes widened abruptly as he met Lily's shocked expression.
"Screech!"
The phoenix let out a clear cry and led the group of Patronuses through the window and into the air, flying toward the Quidditch pitch.
At that moment, Hogwarts was shrouded beneath abnormal dark clouds.
The students watching the match were doubtful and uneasy. Some focused on the game, while others looked anxiously toward the White Tower. The earlier fierce cheers and applause would not appear again.
Everyone was talking at once. A few peals of thunder sounded, and the young wizards in the stands shrank their heads down, already preparing to take shelter from the rain.
However, this day had only thunder and no rain.
The players on the pitch did not care about the changes in the weather. Both sides were already fired up. At this point, even if knives fell from the sky, they were determined to finish the match.
The commentator had nearly shouted himself hoarse. He had to be louder than the thunder so every spectator and player could hear him.
"Slytherin scores! Wood makes a mistake saving the shot, letting the opponent seize the opening. What a pity. However, Gryffindor still holds a large lead, and there is still a fifty-point gap between the two sides. Next, it all depends on whether the Seekers from both teams can catch the Golden Snitch and decisively kill the match.
"Look at Harry, Gryffindor's Seeker! He's riding the newest and fastest Firebolt and has begun a dive! The Seeker who was originally cruising outside the field and observing has suddenly put all his focus into it. Either he's cooperating with his team in a tactical feint, or he has already discovered the Golden Snitch. Without question, Harry is the best Seeker. He has indeed seen that little sparrow of victory.
"He's as swift as a shooting star, isn't he? Slytherin's Seeker is biting close behind him! The two sides are bound to launch a fierce dragon-and-tiger battle over this final hope.
"Let us wait and see… Wait, what is that in the sky? Ladies and gentlemen, students and professors, forget waiting and seeing for now. Raise your heads and look! Something is falling from the sky!"
The leaden clouds in the sky were pressing down very low, as if one could reach out and touch the dome above.
The wind howled, and thousands of black shadows fell from the clouds. When they were still high in the sky, no one paid them any attention, but when they approached the ground, everyone realized what those things were.
"Dementors! There are Dementors!"
The students in the stands screamed.
The players on the pitch also scattered in every direction like lit firecrackers.
The cold, evil, despairing aura brought by Dementors would awaken the most terrifying visions in everyone's hearts. The more trauma a person had suffered, the worse the effect would be.
Skyl raised his binoculars and searched the sky for Death's trail.
That fellow was hiding deep in the clouds. Skyl temporarily enchanted the binoculars. Now they could be used to observe the surface environment of Mars, so searching for an object hidden in the clouds was easy.
Death's cloak had many tears in it. He faced the earth, and pale wraiths kept falling one after another from beneath his robe. These wraiths were Dementors. No one in the wizarding world knew where such evil creatures came from. They came from the realm of the dead. They were Death's flakes of skin, his claws and fangs.
Percy panicked and grabbed Skyl's arm like a frightened little girl.
"Merlin's moldy underpants, where did so many Dementors come from? Is the Ministry of Magic trying to attack Hogwarts? Skyl, use your invincible wisdom and think of something!"
"Calm down." Skyl set down the binoculars and stood up. His figure vanished instantly.
The next second, Skyl suddenly appeared in front of Death.
Death was horrified and abruptly retreated.
"Wizard! How are you here?!"
"Because I go to school here." Skyl smiled without warmth. "Little god, you interrupted me while I was watching the match."
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