The coffin was sealed and finally buried in the Malfoy family graveyard.
The funeral was somber and desolate. Apart from the cawing of circling crows, only Narcissa's cries broke the heavy silence.
When the ceremony ended, Lucius Malfoy, his face expressionless, guided his grieving wife back to the manor.
In the grand, gold-adorned hall, a ragged house-elf was scrubbing the marble floor.
Dobby, the Malfoy family's house-elf, could sense the oppressive atmosphere. He worked quietly, barely daring to breathe.
Even so, his presence still drew his mistress's ire.
"Get out of my sight, you filthy creature!" Narcissa screamed, kicking Dobby away. Her sharp heel nearly drove into his chest.
The blow sent Dobby sprawling, the pain in his chest sharp and suffocating.
"I'm sorry, Mistress... it's Dobby's fault. Dobby deserves punishment," he whimpered, curling up on the floor in pain, still apologizing between gasps.
Lucius glanced at the trembling elf, his voice cold. "Leave."
"Yes, Master. Dobby will go," Dobby murmured, climbing to his feet before quietly slipping out through a side door.
The opulent hall fell into dead silence once more. Narcissa sat slumped on the floor, weeping soundlessly.
Lucius crouched beside her, saying nothing.
"Lucius... why?" Narcissa finally choked out, lifting her tear-streaked face. "Tell me why! Why did you let our enemy go?"
She had never doubted her husband's love for their son. Even if Lucius had always seemed distant with Draco, she knew he cherished him above all else.
She couldn't believe he would simply abandon vengeance.
"I'm sorry, my dear," Lucius said, his expression tightening for a fleeting moment. "But now is not the time. We don't have the power to take revenge."
"No power? Is it because of Dumbledore? That wretched old man?" Narcissa demanded, eyes wide.
"No, my dear. If it were Dumbledore, we would have countless means—and countless reasons—to strike at him," Lucius rasped. "But this man... he's far more terrifying."
"That... man?" Narcissa's voice trembled. "He's dead... isn't he?"
Lucius let out a weary sigh. "Yes, that's what everyone believes. But he's not. He lingers, like a specter trapped within his own grave—waiting for the right moment to claw his way back and unleash vengeance once more."
"Then... does that mean we'll never be able to avenge Draco?" Narcissa whispered in despair.
They both knew who that specter was—the shadow of an era's terror, a name so feared that few dared to speak it aloud even now.
Voldemort.
Master of the Death Eaters.
Master of Lucius Malfoy.
"No," Lucius said firmly, drawing his wife into his arms. "There will be a chance. He is not invincible. Even he has those he fears... those he cannot defeat."
He held her tightly. "There will be a chance," he repeated.
The two sat in silence for a long while, until night fell over the manor.
...
People's joys and sorrows are never the same.
While the Malfoys mourned their son's death, Hufflepuff students were lost in celebration.
Even with three deaths having just occurred at Hogwarts, nothing could dampen the excitement of Hufflepuff House after their Quidditch victory.
There was no alcohol, but plenty of desserts. The students crowded together, sharing sweets and laughter as they celebrated their first win of the season.
As the others cheered around the Quidditch players, Leonard sat quietly off to the side, his eyelids half-lowered as if napping—though a faint silver light occasionally flickered beneath them.
He was analyzing the fragmented spell gestures from the Restricted Section book Erasing an Enemy's Soul.
The subject fascinated him—magic that directly targeted the soul. Unfortunately, someone had damaged the book, leaving Leonard to reconstruct the spell's magical flow from incomplete gestures alone.
It was a difficult task. With the sequence abruptly cut off, he could only determine the direction of magical movement from the existing fragments and then painstakingly test possible continuations to fill the gaps.
Without the accompanying incantation, much of the precise magical current had to be guessed and refined through trial and error. The work was tedious, multiplying the difficulty several times over.
Such brute-force research was time-consuming and demanding, but it was the only method available to him. Through repeated testing and accumulated experience, he was inching ever closer to uncovering the spell's truth.
Still, it was a fine way to pass the time. Take this social event, for example—Leonard couldn't slip away early, nor did he want to look foolish joining in the singing and dancing with a bunch of kids.
So sitting there, pretending to nap while quietly studying magic, suited him perfectly. A reasonable bit of self-indulgence.
Of course, since it was a social event, a bit of mingling was still necessary.
When the energetic students finally tired themselves out, Leonard opened his eyes and approached the Quidditch players to offer his congratulations.
Compared to the noisy crowd's shouting, a personal word of praise felt far more sincere—and effective.
After mingling a bit, he made his way to Cedric Diggory, with whom he got along fairly well.
"Congratulations, hero," Leonard said with a grin. "Catching the Golden Snitch and winning the game—that's impressive."
"Thanks," Cedric replied with a modest smile. "But I think I still have a lot to work on. If I'd caught the Snitch earlier, our score difference with Ravenclaw would've been even greater."
In Hogwarts Quidditch League, teams earned points based on score differentials. After six matches among the four Houses, the top two by total points would advance to the finals.
So while winning mattered, the true goal was to maximize the point gap—the larger the lead, the easier the next matches would be.
"Forget Quidditch for a moment," Leonard said with a teasing smile. "I'm more curious about you and that girl."
Cedric froze. "Wh–what girl? I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Tsk, playing dumb now?" Leonard chuckled. "I heard Ravenclaw's planning to replace their Seeker."
The seemingly offhand comment made Cedric's face turn bright red.
"H-how did you know… No—what's that got to do with me?" Cedric stammered.
"Nothing at all," Leonard said innocently. "But that'll make your future matches a lot more stressful, won't it?"
Cedric's girlfriend, Cho Chang, was Ravenclaw's Seeker. If they faced off, winning would mean having to comfort her afterward—and losing might spark rumors that he'd gone easy on her.
Workplace romance, as they say, never ends well.
Not that it mattered to Leonard. Watching others wrestle with such dilemmas was its own form of amusement.
After all, people's joys and sorrows are never the same.