Return

Hagrid was, of course, proven innocent.

Or rather, no one cared anymore whether he was innocent or not.

The document retracting the charges was quickly completed under Cyberlina's watchful gaze. She bowed gracefully to everyone in the center of the interrogation room, expressing her thanks politely. Then, she turned to leave, as if her only purpose for coming today had truly been to clear Hagrid's name.

"Ms. Sekerei, what about... his split soul?" a member of the Wizengamot inquired.

"I burned it, sir," Cyberlina replied, turning back to smile at the middle-aged wizard who had asked. "Would you like to see that memory?"

"No, no, that's not necessary..."

Audibly, many people breathed a sigh of relief.

Cyberlina showed no reaction, merely nodding at the middle-aged wizard as if concluding a casual conversation. She then turned back and pushed open the door, leaving the interrogation room.

A group of Wizengamot members were left looking at each other, bewildered by the information she had provided about Voldemort.

Everyone understood that their acknowledgment did not equate to the wizarding world's approval. Voldemort had not yet openly returned, and revealing this news now would only incite boundless, rootless fear, along with defiance and resistance towards the Ministry of Magic—it offered no benefits whatsoever.

"She only said she acknowledged it, not when," the old wizard who had interrupted Fudge earlier—Kaspar Flint—spoke up. "We don't need to make it public now, just acknowledge the fact. We can reveal it at a more opportune moment."

"We also need to prepare the Ministry internally," Bostede added. "We can't let Voldemort's appearance catch us off guard when we already know about it."

The synchronized remarks of the two old Slytherins effectively set the tone for the matter—though it also reflected the thoughts of most of the Wizengamot.

Fudge, feeling ignored, flushed red. As their discussion began to die down, he interjected, "At least we can rest assured for now that Ms. Sekerei will not side with the Dark Lord. She promised to stand with the Ministry—in our Unbreakable Vow."

He was emphasizing his own importance and presence—as long as he was there, Sekerei would not oppose the Ministry.

Flint looked at him, then slowly revealed a smile, directly exposing his intention: "Cornelius, you will, of course, remain Minister for Magic. You always will."

Fudge's expression turned peculiar and embarrassed.

Flint's words had, in essence, laid bare before everyone the fact that his position was controlled by pure-blood families. He had always been aware that he was merely a puppet pushed to the forefront, but he couldn't negate his own efforts to climb the ladder over the years and his genuine "achievements"—which was why he had always avoided confronting this reality.

However, Fudge couldn't understand why Flint, who had always maintained such a polished public facade, would bring this up.

The kind Ms. Bostede answered his unspoken question.

"This is no longer about whether your position is secure, Fudge. If Professor Sekerei truly intended to do something to the Ministry, then you, who have established an Unbreakable Vow with her—" Bostede's usually stern face showed a look of amusement. "—you would be the first to face the consequences."

Fudge's face instantly turned deathly pale. "But... but it's an Unbreakable Vow."

"No one knows how powerful she truly is," Flint delivered another heavy blow to Fudge. "Just look at her returned youth—the death certificate Dumbledore provided back then was genuine."

"You can only be thankful that Professor Sekerei is a good person and not as brutal as Voldemort."

Bostede said proudly, but this time Flint did not echo her.

"Alright, I think further discussion is pointless," Griselda Marchbanks, an elder of the Wizengamot, stood up, straightening her robes that had become creased from sitting. This witch, whom Cyberlina had called "senior," was clearly calmer than the others. "It doesn't matter what decision the Ministry makes. Cyberlina will definitely kill the Da—Voldemort. No matter how many soul pieces he's split—many of you know that rumor. Coupled with the Gaunt family... he's finished."

Yes, that rumor—the absurd rumor that Cyberlina only appeared when something major happened in the wizarding world.

Everyone knew Marchbanks was jesting, but her final sentence did bring a sense of peace to the very old wizards.

The white fire that had burned the Gaunt estate for nearly a month eighty-four years ago, the piercing screams that had lasted for a month—these were things that still sent shivers down their spines when they thought about them.

Dumbledore believed this was the fundamental reason Cyberlina had released the memories.

In the most direct yet most subtle way, she was making the older generation of wizards remember her strength, letting her power and untouchability be spread through their words to the younger or even younger wizards.

At the same time, it put an end to the various speculations about her identity that had been circulating in the wizarding world for the past two months.

Cyberlina Sekerei, sixty-two years after being declared dead, had announced her return in the Ministry of Magic with a resurrected soul and a youthful body.

She had used the highest authority among wizards, with the characteristic discretion of Professor Sekerei, and in a manner most fitting with her gentle nature—a powerful declaration of her return.

Two months was enough time for people to remember and try to understand someone whom many still had impressions of.

Two months was enough time for a person to be perceived in the initial impression that the other person hoped for.

—The humble, gentle, and selfless Professor Sekerei, the knowledgeable and helpful senior Cyberlina.

And now, she had added fuel to the fire herself—Cyberlina Sekerei, decisive and occasionally ruthless in her actions.

Not only because of the major events in the memories of the old wizards, but also because of the black wizards found dismembered and scattered in the wilderness, whose files only Aurors could access—the files didn't mention who committed these acts, but the location where these dossiers were kept made it clear to everyone.

Two months was also enough time for all sorts of rumors to spread like wildfire.

Cyberlina had never stopped the rumors about herself, nor had she ever given those people a direction for investigation. Everything that had once borne her trace was unearthed—including her vague remark about "not being in Britain" at the start-of-term banquet.

As far as Dumbledore knew, the most numerous and complex speculations now linked her to the Wiccan Party.

After all, she had indeed worked with them for a period, and had hardly concealed her tracks.

—The loyalty of people, decades of accumulated admiration, strength sufficient to deter the wizarding world, and external forces under suspicion.

Cyberlina seemed to have gathered these things.

And all these things, combined, led to...

Dumbledore realized that the "powerful return" he had worried about at the start-of-term banquet was beginning to take a tangible shape.

But would it come to that?

Would Cyberlina push herself into a supreme position?

The answer was no—at least, not in Dumbledore's opinion.

Dumbledore stopped thinking and walking. Cyberlina, who was walking with him – after seeing Hagrid back to his cabin and then heading towards the castle – turned to look at him. "What is it, Albus?"

Cyberlina also stopped, because she saw the complex expression in Dumbledore's eyes.

"What is it, Albus?" she asked gently with a smile.

Dumbledore, whose mind had been spinning like a top for decades, stopped his tedious and lengthy deductions. Just like in his youth, he looked at his young professor with the cleanest thoughts and the purest eyes and, once again, asked that question—

"Will you establish your own faction, Professor?"

"No, Albus."

—the same answer as many years ago.

"I won't, Albus. You know me," Cyberlina emphasized firmly and gently.

"Yes, I know you, Cyber," Dumbledore sighed in relief.

Since Cyberlina could give such a sure and clear answer, it must be true. What he feared was an ambiguous response from her.

Cyberlina found his reaction amusing, making her want to laugh and cry. "You really are... why are you still suspecting this?"

Hearing this, Dumbledore immediately gave her an annoyed look. "You know I've been overthinking things the whole way here."

"You're the one who chose to overthink," Cyberlina shrugged helplessly, her face clearly showing her amusement at seeing him worry and ponder. "Don't worry, Albus, I have no grand ambition to establish a new order—I never have, from youth to old age."

Dumbledore: "...Do you really have to add the second half of that sentence?"

Cyberlina chuckled softly and continued walking towards the castle.

"Albus, what I love most right now is Hogwarts, where I met Ominis," Cyberlina tilted her head back, squinting slightly against the autumn wind as she looked at the distant castle. "I'm telling you this clearly, can this put your mind at ease a little?"

Dumbledore paused, then softly "Mm"ed. "Yes, it can, Cyber." He then decided to push his luck. "Then can you tell me clearly what you are doing right now?"

Cyberlina chuckled at his words, turned around, and looked at Dumbledore, who was half a step behind her. She smiled and said, "What if I say I'm experimenting?"

"Experimenting with what?"

Dumbledore looked at Cyberlina and asked calmly, clearly not surprised by this answer.

Cyberlina realized her attempt to deflect had confirmed Dumbledore's suspicion. The smile on her lips widened unconsciously.

The cool autumn wind from the direction of the castle blew Cyberlina's long hair, which was scattered behind her, and her school robes. The twilight of the setting sun stretched out behind her, making her smiling face seem a little unreal in the blurred halo of light.

"You know, Albus."

The witch, who had returned from death, expressed the wish in her heart to the first person who had confirmed her death, and also the first person who knew of her return.

"I never knew where I came from. In that confused and chaotic life, only Ominis told me what life was truly like. He showed me the beauty of life. He made me realize that a soul born in dirty blood could still have such a dazzling sheen. It truly—"

The witch tilted her head slightly, her light-colored pupils reflecting a warm hue under the twilight, with deep emotions flowing within them.

"His soul is too beautiful. What I want is to keep watching that soul—

forever."

Perhaps it was the beauty of Hogwarts in the twilight and the smiling witch that made Dumbledore remain silent at that moment. It wasn't until he returned to his own office that he let out a long sigh, holding his phoenix.

—She still hadn't directly answered him.

And she deliberately said it like that—she knew that after she had given her sincere emotional expression, he wouldn't have the heart to question her.

"Cunning Slytherin!" the slightly annoyed old Gryffindor muttered.

A cunning Slytherin is also proud. She doesn't allow herself to fail.

But she had indeed failed, and at the same time, she hadn't retrieved the secret treasure that should have been firmly in her grasp.

Therefore, her unwillingness and longing for the secret treasure would lead her to seek it again, just by a different path.

"Wanting to watch his soul forever..."

Dumbledore sighed softly and then placed Fawkes back on his perch.

Well, at least he knew that Cyberlina hadn't given up on reviving Ominis. It just seemed a little different from what he had thought—she seemed to be fixated only on his soul.

Dumbledore had never heard his professor talk about Mr. Ominis's past, but Ominis himself had briefly mentioned a few things to him—when discussing their families of origin.

Everyone knew the Gaunt family was obsessed with dark magic and a bit mad, but Dumbledore hadn't expected them to be so outrageous as to force a child to use an Unforgivable Curse on Muggles before he spoke with Ominis.

The young Dumbledore at the time didn't understand, only feeling that Mr. Ominis, who smiled bitterly, must have had a childhood hundreds of times more tragic than his own.

Later, when he grew a bit older, he thought it was remarkable that Mr. Ominis had survived in such circumstances and remained gentle, kind, and hopeful for the future.

And now, Dumbledore was starting to seriously consider—under the pressure of such a twisted family, perhaps Ominis had never successfully used an Unforgivable Curse? And under such extreme resistance and disgust, did the Unforgivable Curses he used—even if not the Killing Curse—truly only affect those Muggles?

—Ominis's soul had a problem.

Having learned that Cyberlina had been involved with souls from a very early age, and now hearing her direct obsession with Ominis's soul, Dumbledore made this guess.

Therefore, it was impossible for Cyberlina to do anything to his perhaps fragile soul after Ominis's death.

Dumbledore had begun to suspect the motives behind Cyberlina's soul experiments years ago. Now, he should be confirming—her records describing soul splitting and those experiments were not targeted at Ominis's soul.

Whose were they?

Dumbledore rested his arms on his desk, propped his forehead with his hands, and pursed his lips.

It was her own.

She wouldn't use a forced contract to deliberately bind Ominis, but she certainly wouldn't be satisfied with separating from him.

She tried to use that powerful contract of Ancient Magic to bind herself and Ominis, using the potent Ancient Magic to sustain Ominis's soul. However, that contract was for guardians and heirs—both holders of Ancient Magic.

So she chose to cede her soul to Ominis.

That was why she was so obsessed with researching the souls of the living and the recently deceased.

Dumbledore propped his head in his hand and remained silent for a long while. Then, he reached out and pulled a document from the many on his desk—this document was from the Ministry of Magic, a formal notice to him as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, regarding an anomaly detected by the Department of Mysteries.

He hadn't doubted Cyberlina initially, but her unusual familiarity with the Ministry of Magic, a place she hadn't set foot in for sixty to seventy years, gave him a bad feeling, prompting him to probe her.

And Cyberlina had admitted it.

As for promising to keep her secret during the probing—he hadn't intended to tell the Ministry of Magic anyway, so it was harmless.

If the Department of Mysteries could detect an issue, then with her skill, she had definitely been there more than once or twice.

Two months.

It was only two months.

In these two months, Cyberlina had done far too much, both openly and covertly.

Dumbledore began to feel agitated again, and his head also ached.

Now, it wasn't just that he didn't know what Cyberlina was thinking; he had no idea how much she had actually done.

He didn't believe Cyberlina would delay capturing Tom because she was considering Tom's soul state. With her ability to force Tom's soul fragment into a near-physical form, she wouldn't need to consider Tom at all. Therefore, she must have calculated the timing, or perhaps Tom's troublemaking coincided with her planned timeline. She simply seized the opportunity, using Tom's actions to capture him and leveraging the incident's impact to downplay the significance of the Department of Mysteries being breached.

She had long calculated the time when she might be detected by the Department of Mysteries and had also planned to use Tom.

Truly, a cunning and devious Slytherin.