That day, the explosion over Hogwarts Castle was so exaggerated that it was visible throughout Europe.
It was like a giant stone thrown into the calm waters of the past— a pure white light column that pierced the clouds, then blossomed at an extreme height.
From the Scottish Highlands to the foothills of the Alps, from the English Channel to the Carpathian Mountains, Muggles called this spectacle the Renfrew Explosion, while the temporarily suspended Prophet Daily used nearly three front pages to describe this "once in a millennium wonder," with accompanying blurry images captured by photographers who happened to raise their cameras.
Although several non-mainstream media, such as The Quibbler, regarded this explosion as a precursor to the end of the world, the returned Minister Fudge still stated that everything was under control.
And now, the "all under control" Minister Fudge was seated in the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts holding a cup of cold tea, with his fingers trembling slightly.
Meanwhile, in the center of the room, Professor McGonagall with bandages on her head (not from battle wounds, but rather scared by the sudden explosion) calmly reported the castle's "minor" damage assessment, and the reason Fudge was here was quite simple—
Repairing the castle had to be funded by the Ministry of Magic.
This pudgy middle-aged man's gaze occasionally drifted outside the window—the office's exterior, the castle's outer walls and rooftops, where house-elves, like busy worker ants, used magic to transport stone, wood, and armor and statues damaged in battle, promptly repairing the castle's blasted roofs and floors.
The little elves seemed to treat this as a grand festival, working while singing slightly off-key songs.
The students had gradually returned home—not dispersed, of course, as schooling still needed to continue, but after just experiencing such a battle, the students needed time to settle their emotions.
Even the N.E.W.T. exams this year were temporarily canceled, and the Weasley Twins had set off some firecrackers they'd somehow gotten hold of at the castle gate a few minutes ago, and were now being chased around the castle by Mr. Filch.
"...Therefore, a preliminary estimate suggests repairing the fully damaged areas will require about fifteen thousand Galleons in costs, and that's due to Professor Percival taking on the work of repairing the castle's underground magical circuits, otherwise it would likely be more expensive."
Professor McGonagall closed the notebook in her hand, adjusted her glasses, "So, are we really just going on summer vacation?"
"The students need rest, and of course, the N.E.W.T. exams will still have a make-up this year..."
Dumbledore sat behind the office desk, explaining in a gentle tone, with his right arm entirely wrapped in bandages fixed to his chest. The old injury from a curse on his forearm and a new one on the shoulder made his half-body too numb to move.
"No, I just feel it's a pity not to hold the Quidditch final this year, after all..."
Professor McGonagall spoke "with heartache."
"After all, Slytherin's Seeker broke his leg, and two of the three Chasers have concussions..."
At the office door, William stuffed the biscuit, which Fawkes had refused, into his own mouth, clapped his hands to brush off the crumbs, and mumbled, "The chances of Gryffindor winning the championship this year were indeed high, but the problem is that's not fair, I apply for Hufflepuff to replace Slytherin House in the competition..."
"Enough with the ruckus."
The blue eyes behind the half-moon glasses rolled at William without goodwill, Dumbledore sighed, "Thank you, Minerva, we will communicate the budget issue with the School Board and the Ministry of Magic, but you also need some rest, we'll help oversee the school's affairs—"
"I know, I was just joking."
Professor Meow nodded, a rare smile appearing on her tense face.
Meanwhile, Fudge finally found the opportunity to speak, clearing his throat, "Dumbledore, and William... sir, the impact of this event is very large, the International Confederation of Wizards has already sent inquiries, several countries' Ministry of Magic are asking whether an 'uncontrolled Ancient Magic event' or 'dangerous Dark Arts experiment' occurred, they want an explanation."
"An explanation?"
William stood up, walked to the window, watching the fervent repair scene below, "Go ask anyone with a problem, let them come to me for an explanation."
"..."
"Tell those who just want to freeload, as long as they want money from me, they better keep their mouths shut—"
"...Yes."
"By the way, regarding the repair costs, Hogwarts actually has its own funding channels, the Ministry of Magic doesn't have to be troubled."
William turned around, speaking with a smile, "Of course, if Minister can 'call for' some charitable donations in his personal capacity, we would certainly welcome that, oh, I heard Knockturn Alley's security has improved greatly recently, the compliant operation of Starry Sky Company has the Ministry of Magic's policy support to thank."
"Of course, of course..."
Wiping the cold sweat from his head, Fudge finally sighed in relief, after exchanging a few pleasantries, he hurriedly got up to leave, Professor McGonagall followed him out of the office, obviously this responsible deputy headmaster wasn't planning to rest directly.
After the two left, the office briefly quieted down.
Thus, Dumbledore looked at William, his gaze profound, "So, that fellow... has disappeared completely?"
"You've asked this sixty-three times in the past two days—"
William went back to the sofa to sit down, throwing the apple beside him toward Grindelwald "acting cool" in front of the bookshelf, "Rest assured, if I purposefully guided the explosion of the Secret Vault, it could directly vaporize half the Pacific Ocean, even though the power released this time was less than one-millionth, eliminating an energy aggregate similar to a Dementor is..."
As he spoke, William flipped the palm on the armrest, "Easy as pie, don't worry, no one understands three-star... no, batteries more than I do."
"It's a pity the Secret Vault is gone."
Grindelwald caught the apple William threw over, leaning casually against the bookshelf, taking a big bite.
"Just make another one... don't look at me like that, Dumbledore."
"Power will still attract envy— you can't guarantee that you'll escape danger every time."
Hearing this, William could only continue explaining to the old man somewhat PTSD, "First, power itself isn't inherently right or wrong, and I won't drain half of Hogwarts' students, Isadora's methods are too... brutal, I plan to collect positive emotional energy, and recreate a Secret Vault..."
Saying this, William began figuring, "This way, the plan to spread the magic network worldwide has to be delayed for a while—" He turned his head.
"Still relying on me?"
Feeling William's gaze, Grindelwald couldn't resist complaining.
"Those capable should do more, Professor."
William's compliment sounded insincere, "Not like you're not getting paid."
On the other side, Dumbledore watched their interaction, suddenly speaking up, "William?"
"Yes?"
"Would you... like to be headmaster?"
"No."
"Why refuse so quickly? Didn't you previously..."
"The past is the past, now... don't think about stepping down, Hogwarts' big stage still needs someone like you, an old-timer to shine and burn, I'm busy making money, apologize."
As he spoke, William turned and walked away, as if delaying would lead to being crowned as headmaster by Dumbledore forcibly, "Anyway." He summed up without looking back, "Life still goes on as usual, classes continue as usual, troubles are resolved as usual, the sun still rises——"
"But, I'm quite interested in getting on a Chocolate Frog card, maybe I'll just buy them out… What do you think of 'Guardians of Hogwarts' series?"
"Average."
Grindelwald bluntly commented, "I think it's better to launch a 'Dark Lord' series, I can barely be a C-position."
"That's really too far-fetched, and I don't want to be in the same category as that noseless creature."
"Sounds like,"
Dumbledore no longer insisted on "abdication for the wise," he blinked, "This seems like the start of another long, interesting story."
"Of course."
William raised his hand to pat Fawkes on the head as a greeting, then pushed open the oak office door, "This is also the end of a long story, as for the next story... as long as I stay away from those damned Hourglasses, maybe I'll still see..."
He hummed a tuneless ditty, his figure and voice disappearing down the spiral staircase.
Sunlight poured through the window, flooding the Headmaster's Office floor, Fawkes let out gentle chirps.
Outside the window, the flagpoles of Hogwarts stood tall, this castle's scars being slowly healed, full of vitality.
May 1996, [The End]