When Cyrus returned from the underground cavern of the Hall of Knowledge, it was already nighttime.
Hogwarts was quiet, unchanged for a thousand years. The castle's silhouette remained the same as it had been in Tom Riddle's memories and as it had appeared when Cyrus had borrowed Ginny's body for his late-night excursions years ago.
The way the tree branches swayed in the night breeze still reminded him of bird-like Dementors.
At this hour, most students were already asleep. As Cyrus walked out of the library alone, he unexpectedly ran into Filch.
The scruffy old Squib's face immediately contorted with shock and fear upon seeing him, and Mrs. Norris arched her back, letting out a piercing screech.
Clearly, they had not yet recovered from the terror of that attack years ago.
Fortunately, Filch wasn't completely senseless. After bowing his head in a respectful greeting, he hurried away as if fleeing for his life.
Cyrus did feel somewhat guilty about that incident—he actually liked cats. He even kept a small group of Margay Cats in his enchanted suitcase. Perhaps Mrs. Norris would enjoy their company?
He considered this thought idly.
Just then, at the far end of the dark corridor, a soft light appeared. It was as if a silver moon had pushed open a window, spilling its luminous silk into the hall.
Cyrus turned his head and saw a silver phoenix descending before him.
This was Dumbledore's Patronus.
"Come to the Astronomy Tower. I have something to discuss with you."
It carried Dumbledore's message.
Coincidentally, Cyrus also wanted to talk about the Hall of Knowledge.
Hogwarts had several towers. Two of them served as the dormitories for Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. A third housed the owlery. The fourth was used as the Divination classroom.
These four towers were positioned at the four corners of the castle.
But there was also a central tower—the tallest of them all—used as the students' Astronomy classroom.
At this hour, however, even Astronomy class had long since ended.
When Cyrus arrived, he found Dumbledore standing by the open window of the tower.
Surrounding him were numerous circular astronomical instruments and the Goblet of Fire, its flames flickering with an eerie blue glow.
In the light of the fire, Dumbledore's silhouette appeared somewhat dim and shadowed.
"It's been this long, and you still haven't put the Goblet of Fire away?" Cyrus asked.
The tower had been where the Goblet of Fire was hidden during the Triwizard Tournament.
By conventional reasoning, Voldemort might have assumed the Goblet would be kept in the Headmaster's office, but that wasn't the case. Of course, in the end, Voldemort never reached the Headmaster's office, nor did he make it here.
He died in the Chamber of Secrets—the very place where he first confirmed his identity and bloodline.
In the end, the almighty Dark Lord never even caught a glimpse of the Goblet of Fire.
"There's no harm in leaving it here," Dumbledore replied.
He turned, withdrawing his gaze from the starry night sky. "If I recall correctly, none of us ever truly found the Goblet's location, did we? That tournament had no real conclusion."
Strictly speaking, it was indeed a tournament without a winner. After Voldemort's death, the competition was naturally abandoned.
Everyone had been too busy celebrating the fall of the Dark Lord to care about an unfinished contest.
Besides, Cyrus—who had vanquished Voldemort—had no need for the Goblet's validation.
He was already the uncrowned king.
"I will officially step down as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards in two months. Until the next Supreme Mugwump is elected, Babajide will temporarily handle the Confederation's affairs," Dumbledore said.
"Let's discuss that later," Cyrus shook his head lightly. "There's something more important I need to talk to you about—it's about the Hall of Knowledge."
"You've found a clue?" Dumbledore asked.
He was, of course, aware of the disturbances in the Hall of Knowledge, but since they were related to ancient magic, he had not intervened, instead entrusting the matter to Cyrus.
Dumbledore studied him, noting the grave expression on his face. Whatever he had discovered was clearly no small matter.
"Voldemort's body is missing."
Dumbledore's heart seemed to skip a beat.
In the Chamber of Secrets, Cyrus had burned Voldemort's corpse. But in reality, there had been another body—one created from his father's bones, his servant's flesh, and Harry's blood.
Back in the underground cavern beneath the Hall of Knowledge, after Cyrus had defeated him, that body had been buried beneath the collapsed rubble.
But now, it was gone.
"Could it be Voldemort again?" Dumbledore felt an unbearable weight pressing down on his shoulders, exhaustion making it difficult to breathe.
How many times must Voldemort be destroyed before he finally stayed gone?
But Cyrus shook his head.
"If it really were Voldemort, that would actually be the least of our worries. But I don't think it is."
Ever since his resurrection at the Department of Mysteries, Voldemort had exhausted all his methods. Even if he were still alive in some form, he was nothing more than a wretched ghost of his former self, not even worthy of Cyrus's attention.
The real issue was that the probability of Voldemort being behind all this was nearly nonexistent.
While Voldemort had once attempted to manipulate time, he never truly understood the essence of its power. That mysterious old man, however, wielded magic that seemed almost divine in nature.
"We still don't know his true intentions, but it's clear that we now have another formidable enemy ahead of us," Cyrus said rationally. "And his power will likely far surpass Voldemort's."
Still, he wasn't overly concerned.
Based on everything that entity had revealed so far, he was nothing more than a lurking shadow, unwilling to step into the light. Perhaps he was strong, but at best, he was just an enhanced version of Voldemort.
Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
Now they don't have much intelligence, so they can only go with the flow.
He returned to the previous topic.
"Now more and more wizards have seen your power. You are like a blazing torch, like the sun. They will worship you and follow in your footsteps. This means that everything you do will become an example, and every decision you make must be cautious." Dumbledore said with the tone of a veteran.
He was preaching, but it was also speaking from experience.
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