"So that's how it is," Alan said, his eyes lingering for a moment on the Invisibility Cloak in James's hand. He then asked, "Where's Sirius? Do you have any news of him? Is he coming later?"
"He visits us occasionally. He's one of the few people who knows where we are, but we can't contact him directly. As for today, we aren't sure if he'll make it," James replied, shaking his head slightly.
James soon moved toward his old friends, Remus and Peter. They hadn't seen each other in months, and the reunion was heavy with unspoken words. Lily, too, was busy greeting friends. Most people had no idea where the Potters had vanished to, but seeing them again brought a small flicker of warmth to the somber gathering.
Shortly after, Dumbledore and Minister Millicent Bagnold arrived. After a series of respectful nods, they began the service, reciting the eulogies for the fallen.
"Dear friends, we gather today to bid farewell to our relatives, friends, and comrades: Marlene McKinnon, Gideon Prewett, and Fabian Prewett."
"They possessed the noblest of qualities: kindness, loyalty, and bravery. Their loss has shaken us all. They sacrificed themselves to protect the peace of our world, and their courage is beyond measure."
"I believe their sacrifice will not be in vain. It only strengthens our resolve to stand against the Dark Lord and his followers. Let us remember them; their beliefs will live in our hearts forever."
Dumbledore's words brought tears to many eyes. A heavy, mournful atmosphere settled over the graveyard. Molly, who had tried so hard to stay composed for her children, wept once again. Minister Bagnold followed with her own condolences, announcing that the fallen would be posthumously honored as martyrs of the Ministry. Finally, the Weasley and McKinnon families spoke their last goodbyes.
*I hope they can find a way to turn this grief into strength,* Alan thought.
During the burial ceremony, Alan made his way to Charles's side, hoping to offer some comfort to his friend.
Charles spoke first, his voice thick with emotion. "Alan, I know it was Travers and his lot. They threatened us before. They threatened my aunt."
Charles's eyes were bloodshot, but Alan could sense more than just sorrow—he could feel a cold, simmering rage.
"They will get what they deserve. But for now, you need to stay calm," Alan said, his brow furrowing. He didn't like the look in Charles's eyes and felt the need to offer a reminder.
"I want to be calm, but I can't," Charles spat bitterly. "I want to avenge her. I want them to pay."
Alan's response took Charles completely by surprise.
"Then I support your decision," Alan said calmly. "An eye for an eye. It's only right."
Charles blinked, stunned. In his experience, Alan was the most level-headed person he knew—someone who avoided trouble at all costs and acted with extreme caution.
Seeing the shock on Charles's face, Alan continued, "Seeking justice for your family is right. But if you're going to get revenge, you have to do it thoroughly. You have to ensure your own safety. Don't get yourself killed before you finish the job."
Charles saw the sincerity in Alan's gaze. He realized Alan wasn't just humoring him; he was giving him tactical advice. He nodded firmly.
"Think long-term. Don't expect to succeed tomorrow. You need patience. We'll discuss this again later, but for now, go and be with your family," Alan said quietly. He gave a small nod and walked away.
Alan supported Charles's drive for retribution because he understood a fundamental truth: conflict does not simply vanish. Avoiding it only emboldens the aggressors. The most permanent way to stop trouble is to remove its source. He hadn't acted before because he lacked the power, but he knew that as a Muggle-born wizard, he would always be a target.
*I still need at least a year, Charles. You have to be patient,* Alan thought coldly.
Alan was a man of firm opinions with a clear plan for his future, but he was acutely aware that those without power had no say in their own destiny.
With the funerals behind him, Alan turned his attention to the upcoming school year. He made a trip to Diagon Alley to restock his supplies and order new robes. He had grown significantly over the summer; he was now nearly one meter sixty tall, and his build was more defined. His old robes were far too tight.
He also purchased a vast array of potion ingredients. He didn't want to rely solely on Slughorn's stores or the school greenhouses anymore. He even restocked his supply of Muggle seasonings for his stay at the hut.
In the final days of the holiday, Alan visited the Burrow a few more times. Molly was recovering well, and the house was beginning to echo with the familiar sounds of laughter and chaos once again.
When the morning of the new term finally arrived, Alan shared a final, hearty breakfast with the Longbottoms before Frank accompanied him to King's Cross. Frank was on patrol duty at the station, part of a team maintaining the Shield Charms around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and managing any Muggles who might notice something unusual.
"I'll leave you here. Have a good term, Alan," Frank said. He and Alice had grown very fond of the boy over the summer; Alan's cooking alone had won them over completely. "If you have nowhere to go this Christmas, our door is always open."
Alan nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Your work is dangerous, Frank—don't try to be a hero. Stay safe."
Frank smiled and waved as Alan walked through the solid barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Seeing the scarlet steam engine after so many months felt strange. So much had happened during the holiday, and the memories were still vivid in his mind. He began to walk down the platform, passing the crowds of parents and students, ready to start his second year.
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