A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts C.323: Proclamation

The number of attendees continued to increase. It wasn't just the relatives of the Black family present, but also some officials from the Ministry of Magic. Felix's friends were there as well. He even spotted the figure of Rita Skeeter discreetly standing to the side. Ever since her Animagus revelation, she had become one of the most unwelcome journalists.

Sirius wasn't very familiar with this woman, and he probably didn't know these details. But Harry was quietly reminding him.

The funeral ceremony began formally.

Lush green grass surrounded the coffin of Regulus. It was adorned with flowers, and he lay peacefully inside, his sharply defined face serene, as if in deep slumber. He wore a dark green robe embroidered with the crest of the Black family. One corner of the coffin bore the motto of the Black family written in French: "Toujours Pur" Always Pure.

Sirius looked at the solemn faces below the dais, knowing that today was going to be a tough battle, even though he might not be the main player. He took a deep breath and began to recite the eulogy calmly.

"I thank all of you for being here today. Among you are old friends and relations of the Black family, my friends, mentors, and wizards of renown from various fields."

"I've heard that a person's life is not only about the days they live, but also about the time they remain in people's memories after their passing. Yet, I've been pondering this, and I believe there's something more to add. The image a person leaves behind in people's memories is equally important. From a courteous young nobleman to a follower of the Dark Lord who incited war... It would be grossly unfair to freeze-frame him at just those moments. I am honored, today, at the funeral of my brother Regulus Arcturus Black to speak of his achievements. He dedicated his life to the noble cause of fighting against the Dark Lord. On the long and lonely path he walked, he displayed a courage and determination far beyond ordinary mortals."

Ignoring the murmurs in the audience, Sirius continued his eulogy with a steady voice.

"His deeds were witnessed by Albus Dumbledore and Felix Harp. They will speak after me... At school, Regulus excelled as a Seeker, bringing honor to his House. He was sincere, upright, passionate, and courteous in his interactions..."

Sirius finished reciting the eulogy and stepped down from the podium. Harry offered him a comforting word, but he shook his head, his gaze fixed on Dumbledore.

Whispers spread among the guests, startled by Sirius's words. Someone sneered, "Is he trying to whitewash his brother's name?" Yet, more eyes were on Dumbledore. If Sirius's speech was considered self-serving, then Dumbledore's upcoming words carried considerable weight.

Dumbledore nodded slightly, stepped forward, and shared his perspective, "Regulus Arcturus Black showed us the journey of a young person's growth. In his childhood, he was deeply influenced by his family and parents, carrying those impressions with him as he entered school and made friends..."

"He encountered new ideas, learned to think for himself. Perhaps he wasn't fully mature, perhaps he was still naive. But let us not disregard his growth during this process and the potential he displayed. As he stepped out into the world and saw its reality through his own eyes, he faced the clash between reality and ideals. It was then that we witnessed how a noble soul contemplates: doing what is right, regardless of personal cost. He had to battle against deeply ingrained beliefs, stand alone, and ultimately triumph."

"He saw Voldemort for who he truly was, striking back with courage. His death might have been unnoticed, but we shall not forget this young, passionate soul who died at the age of eighteen."

"War has never been far from us. Perhaps one day, it will erupt unexpectedly in ways we cannot fathom. As long as a breath remains in us, we shall never cease to fight. Those pioneers who sacrificed themselves for love and the greater good, as we hold our wands, they shall bestow upon us an endless legacy of strength."

Dumbledore's words stirred even greater waves of emotion. Rita Skeeter hid herself in a corner, retrieving a quill and parchment from her pocket. Excitement caused a thin layer of sweat to form on her nose as her quill danced across the parchment.

Felix strolled over. "Rita, heroes shouldn't be vilified."

Rita's body tensed briefly, but then she smiled, "Of course, Mr. Harp. Do you intend to reveal more secrets?"

"Storytelling is your forte. As long as you don't tarnish Regulus's memory, I have no objections."

Rita placed one end of the quill in her mouth, continuously nibbling on it. Within seconds, an idea formed, and her eyes gleamed, "I'm planning to write from Regulus's perspective, depicting Voldemort through the eyes of a Death Eater from admiration to disillusionment. What do you think?"

Felix looked at her in surprise, "Aren't you afraid of repercussions?"

"Sir, Voldemort's truly fanatic followers are in Azkaban. Those outside are just a bunch of cowards," Rita Skeeter said disdainfully. "A group of fence-sitters, there's no better way to describe them."

"I'll be looking forward to reading your masterpiece," Felix said.

Meanwhile, skepticism towards Dumbledore was beginning to surface among some attendees

"Is what you're saying, Dumbledore, true?" Bartemius Crouch frowned. Regulus joining the Death Eaters had been widely believed because his parents didn't hide it. However, after the war, the Ministry hadn't tried Regulus. He had disappeared even before that, and not even the captured Death Eaters knew what had happened to him he might have died committing some dark deed, or Voldemort might have killed him for displeasing him.

"On my honor, it is," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Do you have any evidence?" Bartemius Crouch said. "Without evidence, the Ministry won't acknowledge"

Sirius's voice was cold, "My brother didn't fight against Voldemort to gain your recognition."

Bartemius Crouch's face twitched sharply. He had issued the untried and life-imprisonment order for Sirius all those years ago. Now, after thirteen years, it had been proven that Sirius was innocent.

Tonks leaned over, whispering to Lupin, "There have been a lot of rumors lately, old stories resurfacing. They say Mr. Crouch achieved his current position through a cruel heart. Apart from the illegal trial of Sirius, he also imprisoned his own son in Azkaban without evidence. All of this, supposedly, for the Minister's position."

"Weasley seems to be reconsidering his membership."

Lupin shifted uncomfortably to the side. He wasn't used to such intimate conversations.

Soon, Felix stood before the gathering. Scanning the room, he waited until the murmurs had subsided before speaking, "I endorse the earlier statements made by Sirius and Headmaster Dumbledore, without needing to reiterate them. Today, I happened to hear a phrase, which I wish to share with all of you..."

"Someone told me that one must learn to look forward and not dwell on the past, as the world inevitably moves forward." He spoke softly, "Very wise words..."

"We often act based on our own judgment of the future, thinking that only we see it clearly, see it far. But the question is, with all of us looking ahead, whose vision of the future will ultimately become reality?"

His gaze swept over Lucius Malfoy, who stood with his wife and son, expressionless, pondering the words Felix had just given him.

"I haven't lived through a war, but I've been deeply affected by its aftermath. To me, every war is a collision of different wills genuine, passionate, selfless, as well as cruel, vile, and greedy..."

Felix spoke gently, and in contrast, his eyes bore into a select few like knives.

"From past experiences, when faced with choices, some calculate meticulously, driven purely by profit; some flatter and ingratiate to climb the ranks; some cunningly play safe, some hide...

"But fortunate are those who, in the face of adversity, step forward, regardless of personal cost, to protect all that they hold dear."

All eyes were locked onto his, seeking to uncover the deepest corners of his thoughts. Felix, however, continued in a steady tone, "What I'm curious about, friends, is this: When the choice comes again, are you prepared? Which side would you choose?"

"Felix Harp! What are you inciting?"

A rotund wizard roared, his voice distorting out of fear. "You want to give orders, command us! And that mad old coot, spewing lies. I shouldn't have joined this cursed"

His words abruptly ceased. His flesh quivered, and a "hehe" sound escaped his throat as he twitched and collapsed. In a matter of seconds, Felix had pulled him into a Pensieve seven times, scorching the surface layers of his consciousness with searing flames. Although it was only a projection of true consciousness, the painful sensations were undeniably real. He'd be lying there for at least two weeks.

"...I've glimpsed the future I've envisioned, and I've resolved to embrace it, regardless of the obstacles ahead. I'm prepared," Felix concluded his address.

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