Hogwarts Lion Girl

In the dim room, the air was stagnant, filled with a musty smell and a faint smell of blood.

The only light came from a swaying oil lamp in the center of the long table. The flame danced, illuminating the faces of a group of black-robed people around them, making them appear shadowy and like ghosts.

They sat around a long, ancient oak table with intricate magical runes carved on the top.

Everyone lowered their heads and remained silent. The atmosphere was suffocating.

On the seat at the top, a tall and thin figure was leaning against the ground. It was Voldemort.

On his pale face, his bright red snake pupils flashed with a cold light, as if they could see through people's hearts.

He supported his chin with one hand and tapped the table lightly with the other hand, making a rhythmic "tap tap" sound, striking everyone's heart again and again.

Snape sat at Voldemort's right hand side, his face still pale, but there was a hint of imperceptible vigilance in his eyes.

He stood straight with his back straight, his black robe wrapped tightly around him, leaving only his slender fingers exposed.

Snape won Voldemort's trust by eliminating Dumbledore and became his most capable subordinate.

"Twin wand cores..." Voldemort's hoarse voice broke the silence, "This damn rule prevents me from killing Harry Potter."

Voldemort stood up suddenly and paced back and forth in the room, his robes rustling on the floor.

He needed power, more power, enough to crush Harry Potter and all the annoying protection around him.

"Master," Snape said respectfully and cautiously, "regarding the wand you need..."

Voldemort stopped abruptly and shot a sharp look at Snape. "Speak!"

"I have been secretly tracking the whereabouts of the Elder Wand," Snape bowed slightly, "According to my investigation, its previous owner was Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore!" Voldemort uttered the name through gritted teeth, as if he wanted to tear it apart. "Now that he is dead, where is the wand?"

"According to my guess," Snape paused, with a hint of barely perceptible hesitation in his tone, "it should be in his grave."

A gleam of greed flashed in Voldemort's eyes.

"Dumbledore...everything he owned in his lifetime will belong to me! Including the legendary wand!" He waved his arms as if he had already grasped the unparalleled power.

……

The dark clouds above Godric's Hollow rolled like boiling ink, occasionally leaking out one or two hideous flashes of lightning, illuminating the cemetery below.

The cold wind whistled through the tombstones, making sharp whimpers, like the cries of the dead.

Voldemort stood in front of Dumbledore's tomb, his figure appearing particularly tall and distorted in the light of lightning.

His pale fingers trembled as he stroked the cold coffin lid and greedily breathed in the decaying smell of the cemetery.

"Teacher," Voldemort's hoarse voice echoed in the night sky, "Do you think death can stop me? The thing you cherish most finally fell into my hands!"

He swung his wand violently, and a beam of green light struck the coffin lid with a deafening crack.

The heavy coffin lid was blown away, revealing the coffin covered with white velvet inside.

"Dumbledore" lay peacefully inside, as if he was just asleep.

Voldemort couldn't wait to reach out and grab the Elder Wand. A powerful magical power instantly surged into his body, making him feel dizzy.

He greedily felt the power and laughed wildly: "Hahahaha! I finally got it! From now on, I am the master of the world!"

He raised the Elder Wand high, and a dazzling red light shot straight into the sky, tearing apart the dark clouds and illuminating the entire night sky.

"Stupid Ministry of Magic! Incompetent Order of the Phoenix!" Voldemort's voice resounded through the world, "Your doomsday has come! From now on, the world will surrender to me!"

……

The warm afternoon sun shone through the top of the tent, illuminating the entire wedding scene with golden light.

The Weasley family's new house was filled with laughter and joy, and the air was filled with the fragrance of flowers and the aroma of barbecue.

The guests, wearing colorful dresses, gathered in twos and threes, talking about the grand wedding.

The tent was decorated with countless flowers and ribbons, the long table was filled with a variety of delicious food, and the air was filled with the smell of happiness.

Furong was wearing a pure white wedding dress, looking like a fairy from heaven, while Bill was wearing a well-tailored suit, looking particularly handsome and elegant.

The two held hands, with happy smiles on their faces, and accepted the blessings from their relatives and friends.

Just as the wedding was about to begin, Minister of Magic Scrimgeour hurried over.

With a serious look on his face, he walked straight to Harry, Ron and Hermione, cleared his throat, and announced that he would read Dumbledore's will.

The noisy tent suddenly became quiet and everyone's eyes were focused on them.

In the living room of the cabin, Scrimgeour took three items from his briefcase: a worn-looking Deluminator, a collection of stories with a plain cover, and a Golden Snitch.

"According to Professor Dumbledore's will," Scrimgeour's voice echoed through the living room, "he left this Deluminator to Mr. Ron Weasley."

Ron took the Deluminator in surprise. He held it and felt a strange magic flowing through his fingertips.

"This copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard," continued Scrimgeour, "is for Miss Hermione Granger."

Hermione took the thick, leather-bound story collection and gently stroked the gold-stamped words on the spine with her fingers.

Finally, Scrimgeour's eyes fell on Harry.

"And this," he held up the Snitch, which gleamed brightly in the sunlight, "Professor Dumbledore left it for Mr. Harry Potter. This is the Snitch you caught during your first Quidditch match."

The moment Harry took the Snitch and touched its cool metal shell, a long-forgotten memory came to his mind: the biting cold wind, the flying broom, and the extreme joy of catching the Snitch.

He couldn't help but hold it tightly in his hand, as if he was holding the last bit of warmth that Dumbledore left him.

Scrimgeour finished his speech and the living room fell into silence.

These three seemingly ordinary relics carry Dumbledore's deep love and expectations for the three young wizards.

Scrimgeour then left, saying that the current situation in the Ministry of Magic was not optimistic.

……

The wedding banquet was in full swing, golden champagne was jumping in the crystal glasses, and the air was filled with laughter and the sweet aroma of cream.

The guests toasted each other and toasted to the newlyweds.

Suddenly, an imperceptible strangeness filled the air. The originally noisy atmosphere seemed to be strangled by an invisible hand and became eerily quiet.

A pale, panting Auror stumbled into the hall, breaking the peace of the wedding.

He stumbled over to Arthur's side, leaned over and whispered something quickly in his ear.

Arthur's face turned pale in an instant. He stood up abruptly, and the wine glass in his hand slipped and fell to the ground with a crisp sound, like a sudden death knell at a wedding.

"Minister...of Magic...is dead..." he muttered to himself, his voice trembling, looking at the Auror in front of him in disbelief, seeking confirmation.

The Auror nodded painfully and added a more desperate sentence: "The Ministry of Magic... has fallen..."

These words exploded in the auditorium like thunder. The guests instantly became agitated and panic spread like a plague.

The originally festive music came to an abrupt end, replaced by frightened whispers and hurried footsteps.

Harry supported Ginny who was pushed away, and a trace of determination flashed in his deep green eyes.

After the guests had left, he looked around and shouted, "We must return to Hogwarts immediately! The enemy may come after us."

Ron drew his wand and watched the surroundings vigilantly, standing by Hermione's side. Ginny held Harry's hand tightly.