The fierce wind was still howling, and the snowflakes were scattered in the air. On the shores of this silver-covered lake, it has long been impossible to distinguish between the solid land and the frozen lake.

The sky grew darker under the thick clouds that rolled like the roar of a war horse, and even though it was nearly eight o'clock in the morning, it still looked like it had just dawn.

This constantly roaring heaven and earth can't help but bring a heavier atmosphere to this funeral.

On the edge of the lake, right in front of Maka's eyes, hundreds of chairs were densely arranged. At this time, all the sorcerers, young and old, stood silently, and spontaneously saluted the old man with his eyes closed.

And in the middle of the neatly arranged chairs, a straight aisle ran straight in front of Maca to the edge of the great lake covered with thick ice. It was at the end of the aisle that a white marble table sat silently.

With a staff in her hand, Maca used magic to hold Dumbledore's body firmly and step forward. His expression was solemn and serious, as if every step he took had been carefully measured.

As he progressed, the snow under his feet stepped back lightly, as if to make sure he was grounded every time, revealing the withered yellow grass.

On the way, Maca met a lot of people. Some of them were new acquaintances, while others were already acquainted, and of course there were many others whose names he still couldn't name.

The wizards who came to the funeral were mixed, and there were all kinds of them. From those who dress luxuriously and meticulously, to those who are ragged and thin, tall, short, fat and thin.

Madame Maxime and Hagrid, two giant hybrids, are the most striking wizards of the day, and they stand out from the crowd one after the other, and they seem to have a strong presence because of their height.

But it was clear that the two of them were not the tallest today, because Glopp was also here.

This giant, who is not very well developed, can't always hide in the Forbidden Forest, because sooner or later he will cause trouble because of his race. Take advantage of today's opportunity to take him out and show him in front of the public, and when that inevitable thing really happens, his performance may justify himself.

With Hagrid's tireless teachings and Maca's deterrence, he had learned a lot of things that were easy to understand. It seems that it is more appropriate for him to live in a wizarding community than to be a giant being ravaged and bullied by his own kind.

In addition to the three of them, Maca also caught a glimpse of Tom, the hunchbacked owner of the Leaky Cauldron, the driver of the Knight Bus Old Ernne, the beauty potion shop in Diagon Alley, Mrs. Prim Pinier, and the wandmaker Mr. Ollivander, among a series of familiar witches and wizards.

Many of them he had only met a few times, but he missed them so much.

In addition, all the ghosts in the castle also came out. Their bodies could barely be seen in the midst of the raging snowstorm, but Maca could feel their presence.

Of course, Aberforth didn't come today, and neither did the vast majority of the Order of the Phoenix. Although they were not here at the moment, Marka believed that they should be also spontaneously silent about Dumbledore's funeral at this moment.

The aisle between the seats was not a few steps, but Maca seemed to have walked for a long time. As he swung the strange staff and laid Dumbledore's body gently on the white marble tabletop, the snow that had fallen on the table slid down from the edge of the table.

Even if an open-air funeral is held in a snowstorm, the solemnity of the ceremony will not be affected by the bad weather. Because it was a grand funeral for the greatest white wizard of our time.

After Maca had placed the body in place, he retreated into the aisle, standing level with the first row of seats. Most of the wizards in this row are the ones who have the deepest friendship with Dumbledore, and if they don't, they have a pivotal position in the global wizarding world.

Just as Maca was standing, a huge shadow suddenly appeared under the ice on the surface of the lake. Although the ice was extremely thick, the shadow was so great that even the frozen hoarfrost could not hide its appearance.

In the blink of an eye, the ice cracked into several cracks, and with a clatter, it arched upwards with a thud, and a behemoth emerged from the lake.

There was a commotion among the wizards, but Professor McGonagall turned around and signaled not to panic. At the same time, Maca gently smacked the staff in her hand, and the waves and ice that were about to rush were blocked by an invisible force, and fell back into the lake with gravity.

Peeking out of the bottom of the lake was the giant squid that had been living here all along, and apart from its frighteningly large size, it was not too dangerous.

Soon, most of the wizards calmed down, and at the same time, a melodious song sounded from the water beneath the lake.

It was the singing of merfolk who were different from the human vocal range and the way they vocalize, and their songs had always been known for their beauty and emotion. It's just that it has to be made in the water to make people hear the melody.

Now, even they are mourning Dumbledore's death, looking forward to saying their final goodbyes to Dumbledore who has embarked on a new journey with that sad and hopeful voice.

Dumbledore was rumored to know the language of the merfolk, and that might be true.

Probably touched by the most fragile heartstrings of the mermaid's song of sadness but implicit warmth, Hagrid, who stood at the end, sobbed again.

With his relationship with Dumbledore, he should have been in the front, but he was sitting in the last row with Glopp today. It's just that it's impossible to tell if he's taking care of Glopp or if Glopp is taking care of him, at least right now, his brother's huge palm is clumsily patting his head.

Even though Glopp was light enough, Hagrid was knocked down on the chair by him, and even the four legs of the stool were sunk deep into the snow.

It seemed like a long time, and it seemed like only a short time later, the mermaid's song gradually softened, and gradually dissipated in the violent blizzard. The squid sank again, and the waves were again blocked by the maca, lest the raging waters of the lake try to wash ashore again.

At this time, Mr. Akinbard, the President-designate of the International Federation of Wizards, took a step forward and read the eulogy that had been prepared one by one.

The eulogy celebrates Dumbledore's noble spirit and achievements, the great experiences and brilliant achievements of Dumbledore's life, and all the peace and hope that Dumbledore has created for the entire wizarding world.

But beyond that, Maca would have liked to hear some praise for Dumbledore's ordinariness, as he always complained about not having time to relax, or occasionally going to Quidditch.

Because of every great person, there are always a lot of unspeakable regrets behind him. I believe in Dumbledore himself, and I hope that more people will know that he is also an ordinary old man at times.

As the eulogy was recited, the merfolk under the lake also floated their upper bodies with a roar, and the centaurs in the distance who were about to move out of the Forbidden Forest also mourned in the shadow of the trees, and even the owls in the huts rushed into the snow in large swaths.

When the eulogy was finished, and the aftermath was still blown away by the wind, Maca waved her staff again.

Suddenly, a wide purple velvet cloth was summoned by him out of thin air, and flew steadily towards Dumbledore's body between the wind and snow, and fell gently on top of him as if it were not affected by the strong wind.

The next moment, the regular rune on the tip of the Maca staff suddenly appeared, and at about the same time, an ice-blue streamer lightly wound around Dumbledore's remains, swirling around the white marble table.

A dazzling light enveloped the stone platform, and ice crystals clung and condensed from the bottom up, connecting Dumbledore, the stone table, and the earth as if they had become a whole.

Not long after, when the brilliance quietly dissipated, a transparent ice coffin with a hint of blue appeared in front of everyone's eyes. The ice coffin did not have the slightest cold, it was as clear as crystal, and as hard as a diamond.

This ice coffin, if it didn't have the same level of power as the power of the first-level rules, it would definitely not be able to break it.

It was at the moment when the coffin was first formed, and countless arrow feathers rose high from the edge of the forbidden forest and fell to the ground not far away, as the horses paid their respects to the end of the funeral. Around the same time, the merfolk slowly sank to the bottom of the lake and gradually disappeared.

Most of the wizards present were amazed by Maca's magic, but they also knew the importance of the funeral. They didn't make too much fuss, but took the scene into their hearts, and then leaned over to the ice coffin.

Maca bowed with them, feeling a little empty in her heart.

However, what filled the emptiness in his heart was a large "black meteor" in the distant sky. And along with them, there are several large Dark Markers.

The skull condensed by the black mist protruded from its mouth, its hollow eyes staring directly at the funeral scene.

Maca jerked her head up, squinting at the sky.

“…… I thought I'd come earlier! He muttered to himself with a calm face.

"Marca," Professor McGonagall said at once, "I'll have the other professors put up the protective barrier at once, and everything goes according to plan." ”

Maca nodded, then glanced left and right again.

Voldemort's appearance made many wizards present uneasy. Some people may guess some, but the vast majority of people don't think of this layer at all.

The battle between Hogwarts and Voldemort was mostly fought under the surface. Even if it appeared in public for a few times, the time was very short.

Ordinary wizards are always scared by the arrival of the Dark Lord, and Maca and McGonagall know this.

Wind and snow, becoming more manic.