The lead-gray sky was thick with clouds. With autumn's arrival, the steady drizzle had taken on a hint of chill.
None of them carried umbrellas, letting the fine, silken rain fall on them.
Before long, tiny beads of water covered their hair.
They bowed their heads and mourned before the gravestone for a while, then took one long, lingering look before turning away.
The dead were gone. What remained for the living was to keep walking the paths they had left unfinished.
"Let's go. I feel absolutely awful right now, and I really want a drink."
Tiny droplets clung to the ends of Sirius's fringe. His face was pale, and uneven stubble grew unchecked around his lips. He looked worn down and forlorn.
"A drink? An excellent idea, Sirius. This weather really does call for one."
Dumbledore held out his hand, and Zhang Xiao placed his own on it.
Apparition really was convenient magic. I wanted to learn it so badly...
With a sharp crack, the old cemetery stood empty once more. The silver-fine rain rushed to fill the space they had vacated.
It contentedly claimed the entire cemetery.
The Black family's ancestral home had been completely transformed. Zhang Xiao's house-elves had faithfully carried out their task.
The floors gleamed, and many more enchanted candles had been added throughout the house. They shone as brightly as light bulbs, illuminating every room.
All the moldy, rotting wallpaper had been replaced. Although the portraits could not move, they had been polished until they looked brand-new. They had even found quite a few Muggle oil paintings in the Black family's storeroom.
These pure-bloods talked a fine game, but their actions were far more honest than their words.
Just like when Zhang Chengdao had proposed opening trade between East and West a couple