Someone Was Socially Dead

Hufflepuff's Goblet was ultimately split apart. The soul fragment attached to it perished with tremendous spectacle, its destructive power fully living up to the name of the most powerful dark wizard in history, leaving the person who had wielded the sword to destroy it unable to accept it even now.

Ron sat by the window, gazing outside with a profound look in his eyes as he let out a long sigh.

The dim night was just like his dim life. Ron felt increasingly miserable and reached out to push the window open a few inches. In the winter night of November, cold snow slapped wildly against his face. The chilly sensation temporarily overwhelmed the chill in his heart, allowing him to sort through his thoughts.

He could no longer worry about the portraits of former headmasters or the Sorting Hat. He could only pray that when he woke tomorrow morning, the portraits in the Castle would not be crowded together to watch him.

Look on the bright side. At least Fawkes definitely would not leak anything.

Ron's expression grew even more sorrowful. The wind on this winter night was especially cold. Taking a deep breath, he continued calculating.

There had been two people present at the time.

Grindelwald was so old. He probably would not care about a student's dark thoughts. Besides, he had once been the leader of the Pureblood Party. What dark thoughts had he not seen before? He probably would not care about Ron's filthy thoughts.

That only left Harry...

Ron clenched the wand in his pocket and sighed dejectedly. Unfortunately, although Harry was not good at brain-intensive subjects like A History of Magic, Potions Master, and Astronomy, he was very capable in a fight. He excelled at both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Ron