After bidding farewell to Newt, Cyrus first wrote a letter to Lucius explaining the situation. With Voldemort causing such a stir, it was likely that he had already found a way to resurrect himself, and the day of his return might not be far off.
If that guy really wanted to hide, even Cyrus wouldn't be able to find him.
Since Voldemort was on the verge of returning, the Malfoy family's situation could become precarious.
Cyrus didn't oppose Lucius's current thinking but reminded him to choose carefully whom he would ultimately serve.
After all, even if Cyrus understood Lucius's predicament, but that didn't mean he would tolerate someone playing both sides.
After finishing the letter, Cyrus headed straight to Hogwarts.
Dumbledore was still engrossed in drafting plans for the Triwizard Tournament when he suddenly heard a tapping on his window. Looking up, he saw Cyrus sitting sideways on the windowsill, one foot braced against the ledge, glancing back at him.
For a moment, the old man's eyes seemed to lose focus, as if he saw a familiar shadow.
"I thought you'd come by on the day of the Quidditch match. I even prepared something for you," Dumbledore said, though he still got up to open the window.
He was curious about what had made Cyrus so eager.
"Hello to you too. I don't know if Severus told you, but Lucius informed me today that the Dark Mark on his arm has started to cause intermittent pain," Cyrus said as he lightly jumped down from the window, casually strolling past Dumbledore. As he passed Fawkes, he even reached out to playfully tease the bird's beak.
The portraits of the former headmasters on the walls watched Cyrus make himself at home in Dumbledore's chair, all silently fuming but unable to say a word.
"Is what you say true?" Dumbledore's expression grew tense.
"Seems like your double agent isn't as obedient as you thought," Cyrus quipped, though he nodded and shared his thoughts. "Voldemort is using this to remind those who betrayed him. He must be fully confident in his ability to return, and it's going to happen soon!"
Cyrus's golden eyes met Dumbledore's piercing blue gaze. Both of them were now solemn, like stone in the cold winter wind.
"I believe it will happen this school year!"
"But Harry—" Dumbledore started to speak, then fell silent again.
"You mean he needs Harry's blood, don't you?" Cyrus asked. "If we're talking about the Horcrux resurrection ritual, the spell isn't that strict. Voldemort has many enemies—there's you, me, Harry, or countless other wizards who oppose him."
"You know that's not what I mean," Dumbledore shook his head. "He will use Harry's blood to resurrect himself. Otherwise, he will never be able to truly harm Harry."
"That depends on how much he values Harry," Cyrus said.
According to the original story, Voldemort did indeed place great importance on Harry, or rather, on the prophecy.
But now, compared to the unremarkable Harry Potter, Cyrus might be the one who occupies Voldemort's thoughts more.
And if Voldemort wants to confront Cyrus, he doesn't need Cyrus's blood—he just needs the blood of any of his enemies to revive himself.
"No, he will choose Harry, just as he chose Harry that night twelve years ago," Dumbledore asserted.
Cyrus hadn't realized how much Dumbledore believed in fate.
"Perhaps," Cyrus conceded, "but regardless, I can't delay any longer." His gaze shifted to Fitzgerald's portrait on the wall.
The witch nodded at him and spoke slowly, "Then let us begin. But I must warn you, my trial is unlike the previous two. You will face—Death!"
"Is that why you said the password was 'The last enemy to be defeated is death'?" Cyrus asked, surprised as he glanced at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore blinked and smiled, "After this trial, you will understand why I surpassed Tom Riddle all those years ago."
"I already know," Cyrus replied, his gaze shifting to the wand in Dumbledore's hand, which resembled a skeletal finger. "The Deathly Hallows."
Suddenly, Cyrus opened his palm, revealing a small, black object that immediately caught Dumbledore's attention.
It was as if Dumbledore had been struck by something profound.
"Is that..."
His eyes locked onto the small, obsidian-colored stone in Cyrus's hand, and his breathing became as heavy as that of a wild horse.
He couldn't resist raising his hand, his focus entirely consumed by the black stone, as if he were a moth drawn to a flame, taking a large step toward the dark sun in Cyrus's grasp.
For a fleeting moment, Cyrus thought Dumbledore might actually leap forward and snatch the Resurrection Stone from his hand.
But Dumbledore didn't do that.
Instead, he looked at the Resurrection Stone in Cyrus's hand with eyes full of profound sadness, as if seeing his deepest desires, regrets, and infinite love reflected in it.
"You can hardly imagine how long I've been seeking it, all because of a fairy tale," Dumbledore said, his voice choked with emotion.
"But you also know that fairy tales don't always end happily," Cyrus said, closing his fingers around the stone, as if a flower was closing its petals, protecting the heart within.
"The Elder Wand isn't invincible, the Resurrection Stone can't truly bring back the dead, and even the Cloak of Invisibility couldn't forever hide someone from Death. In the end, even the cloak couldn't deceive you," Cyrus remarked.
"You're right," Dumbledore sighed. The overwhelming impulse that had surged within him moments ago now faded, leaving him feeling as though he had fallen into an endless abyss. A moment ago, he had been like a blazing fire, but now he seemed like a candle flickering in the wind, on the verge of being extinguished.
"You see~ Resurrection may not be impossible, Dumbledore," Cyrus said, his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness.
His gaze burned with intensity.
By summoning a soul with the Resurrection Stone, rebuilding the body with the Philosopher's Stone, and using the Elder Wand as a conduit to perform ancient magic, it was theoretically possible to fully resurrect someone by infusing them with emotions. Cyrus had never attempted this, but the feasibility seemed high.
However, Dumbledore shook his head.
"We shouldn't meddle with the dead, Cyrus, even if you have the power to do so," Dumbledore said, his words serving as both a warning to Cyrus and a reminder to himself.
"Life is precious precisely because it only happens once, and death—" He paused, as if finally at peace with the idea.
"Death is merely another adventure."
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