Chapter 378: John's corpse

Bang!

In the buried ruins, a hand burst out of the ground.

Immediately after, another hand stretched out, forcefully pulling away the rubble pressing on his body.

It was Voldemort.

His current state could be described as miserable.

His once luxurious black robe was now torn to shreds, his face covered in dust and blood.

His entire right arm was mottled with bloodstains, the mercury left arm sustained by dark magic had completely dissipated, leaving only a half-charred stump.

"... Mer... rick!!!"

Voldemort's hoarse roar was squeezed from deep within his throat, filled with endless hatred and fury.

He never expected that the rat he had driven to desperation would once again injure him to this miserable state.

Aside from being counter-killed by baby Harry back then.

The two most miserable moments of his life were both thanks to John.

"Don't you dare die!! I will make you unable to live, unable to die! I will tear your soul into pieces, tormenting each fragment for eternity!"

Voldemort's roar echoed above the ruins, his voice mixed with violent coughing and gasping.

However, his roar had not yet fully faded.

A piercing killing intent surged forward.

Voldemort only had time to raise his wand with his bloodstained right hand.

A thick scarlet spell tore through the air, instantly hurling Voldemort dozens of meters away.

As he hastily rose to his feet, he saw Dumbledore appear in the deep pit.

A flash of panic crossed Voldemort's eyes.

Because the trap he had set had been completely destroyed by John's recent explosion.

Even he himself had lost half a tube of blood.

At this point he was no match for Dumbledore.

Just as he hesitated whether to retreat, Dumbledore carefully lifted John's scorched-black body.

His hand trembled, yet he dared not tremble while holding John.

Fearful that he might shatter the fragile scorched-black body in his arms.

At this moment, John's body showed no signs of life, so devastated that his viscera were burnt beyond any chance of survival.

Dumbledore's eyes, which usually sparkled with wisdom and cunning, were now veiled by a murky haze.

Seeing Dumbledore seemingly immersed in grief, a flicker of ruthlessness flashed in Voldemort's eyes.

He seized this fleeting opportunity and abruptly raised his wand.

"Avada......"

Boom!!!

A blue flame torrent suddenly poured down from the heavens, engulfing Voldemort.

Grindelwald's figure appeared beside Dumbledore.

"Albus." Grindelwald's voice low and calm, his gaze sweeping over the scorched-black body, a hint of complexity flickering in his eyes before he regained his icy tone and asked: "Shall we kill him?"

"......"

Dumbledore remained silent.

He slowly lifted his head; the murkiness in his blue eyes faded, replaced by a profound, near-deathly stillness.

"Kill."

Just that one word.

That blue flame torrent instantly intensified.

What Dumbledore regrets most now is still not having made up his mind earlier.

To tell Harry everything and let Harry make the choice.

If Harry chose to survive, they could kill Voldemort.

If Harry chose to confront, they could also prepare in advance.

No matter which path they chose, John would not die.

But now John is dead.

He died before his eyes, in his arms, without even having time to leave a last word.

His family is still waiting for him to return.

Dumbledore cannot forgive himself, just as he could not decades ago.

Only after committing a grave mistake did he finally make up his mind.

Voldemort struggled in Grindelwald's flames, knowing that if he did not leave now, it would be his turn to die here.

Finally he exerted his last strength, tearing a gap in the torrent.

Then he seized the moment to Apparate away.

Grindelwald did not pursue, merely retracting his wand, his gaze falling on the scorched-black body in Dumbledore's arms, and he sighed.

He still took a liking to this young man.

"Take him back." Grindelwald said softly.

Dumbledore nodded, holding John as he rose to his feet.

He worried that the jolt of Apparition might harm John's corpse, so he chose to walk away.

The commotion here eventually attracted the Ministry of Magic and the members of the Order of the Phoenix.

They had barely left when several Apparition figures appeared.

Aurors, professors, Order of the Phoenix members, reporters who rushed over upon hearing the news, and Hermione.

Pushing through the crowd, Hermione instantly saw the charred body in Dumbledore's arms.

Her steps came to an abrupt halt.

The surrounding sounds seemed to be instantly sucked away, leaving only the outline of that charred form in the world.

Although Dumbledore hadn't said anything yet, she already understood.

Countless thoughts exploded in her mind, and in the next instant she stopped thinking.

Her vision suddenly blurred and dimmed.

She could only see Harry, who had run a few steps away, quickly return to support her.

Harry shouted something anxiously at her, but she couldn't make it out.

Finally, she plunged completely into darkness.

Order of the Phoenix.

Everyone remained silent.

John's body was placed on a long table, covered with a white cloth.

Dumbledore stood before the table, gazing at the white cloth for a long time.

The others, too, were deathly silent.

Professor McGonagall stood in the corner, hands clenched tightly, knuckles whitening.

Professor Snape stood by the window, back to everyone, saying nothing.

Professor Fuliwei sat in a chair, his small frame trembling slightly, tears slipping down silently.

Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Professor Moody also stood silently to the side, eyes downcast.

Hermione was helped upstairs by Ginny to rest.

Harry and Ron kept watch downstairs, Ron's hand on Harry's shoulder, yet he couldn't utter a word.

In facing Voldemort, everyone had the resolve to die in battle.

There had been many sacrifices before.

But this still could not change the heaviness and grief of the moment.

After a long while, Dumbledore finally raised his hand slowly and lifted a corner of the white cloth.

John's face was already unrecognizable.

"Let's say goodbye."

Dumbledore's voice revealed no emotion.

"When it's done, prepare the aftermath."

"John's parents—I will notify them personally."

Everyone remained silent.

Professor McGonagall was the first to step forward, she trembled as she reached out, lightly touching the edge of the white cloth, her lips moving, but in the end she uttered no word.

She slowly withdrew her hand, then quickly left the room.

Next, Professor Lupin, Sirius, and Professor Moody stepped forward in turn.

They said nothing, merely standing in silence for a moment before turning and leaving.

One after another, people came by and then left.

They did not inform Hermione to come say goodbye, for she had already fainted once, and they could not bear to let her suffer a second blow.

Harry was the last to approach.

Looking at John's charred face, he felt a suffocating pain.

Before this, he had dared not touch John's body; now he finally reached out, gently placing his hand on John's shoulder.

He opened his mouth, about to say something softly.

But he suddenly stopped.

"Er....!"

Harry's lightning-shaped scar on his forehead suddenly began to throb painfully.

It felt as if something was forcing its way into his scar, heedless of everything.

A vague, excited thing bearing some urgent information was desperately trying to squeeze into his mind.

【Brother can still be saved!】