The Burrow was unusually crowded with visitors. The Weasley family maintained a genuinely good reputation throughout the wizarding community, and their modest home was packed with wizards paying their sincere respects to Ron's memory.
Of course, most attended primarily out of respect for the Weasley family themselves rather than the deceased.
Among the assembled mourners were Dumbledore, Grindelwald, all the Heads of Houses from Hogwarts, and even Harry Potter, accompanied by his miraculously resurrected mother, Lily. Lucius Malfoy stood somewhat awkwardly with Draco, and though he and Arthur Weasley hadn't fully reconciled their long-standing differences, today represented a day for solemn remembrance, not petty provocation.
The Weasley family appeared utterly exhausted and heartbroken.
Erwin arrived with several Cavendish family representatives and Charlotte walking beside him.
Ron's ghost floated behind them, his spectral form noticeably more ethereal and translucent than when he'd first been summoned—his limited soul power nearly exhausted and on the verge of final dissipation.
Erwin approached Arthur and Molly directly, his expression appropriately somber.
"I'm genuinely sorry," he said quietly, meeting their grief-stricken eyes. "I didn't expect this outcome."
Arthur kept his head lowered, completely buried in overwhelming grief. Molly, though deathly pale but maintaining fragile composure, slowly shook her head at Erwin.
"It's alright, Erwin. I don't blame you personally. Who could have possibly predicted such tragedy? We were all present when it happened. You accomplished a genuinely great feat, and you handled the aftermath as perfectly as anyone could. You've done enough."
"Regardless of circumstances," Erwin stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument, "this terrible chain of events began because of Cavendish family operations. We will personally cover all of Ginny's remaining school expenses, and we'll arrange proper futures for your other sons. Don't refuse—this is what those who fell deserve as minimum compensation."
Molly nodded wearily, far too emotionally drained to argue about pride or charity.
Behind Erwin, Ron's ghost remained silent throughout the exchange.
He watched his assembled family, observing the profound sorrow and bittersweet remembrance visible on their faces, and realized with painful clarity that they still loved him despite the shame and dishonor he'd brought upon their name.
It represented a bitter, cutting regret.
He had been reckless, thoughtlessly rude, and catastrophically immature. If he hadn't been so absolutely foolish in his choices, he wouldn't have departed this world with such a permanent stain on his reputation—or dragged his beloved family into such disgrace.
Erwin glanced briefly at Ron's fading form. He possessed no comforting words for the boy.
Ron's remaining time was rapidly running out; he would face his final end however he personally chose.
Erwin stepped into the Burrow's cramped interior, where a substantial crowd of wizards had gathered, including numerous current Hogwarts students paying their respects.
Hermione Granger hurried toward him the moment she spotted his arrival, her eyes visibly red from sustained crying.
"You're here, Erwin."
He nodded acknowledgment.
"I never imagined..." Hermione's voice trembled with genuine emotion. "I honestly didn't like Ron particularly, but... I'm still profoundly sorry this happened. The Weasleys are fundamentally good people. Seeing them suffering like this makes me incredibly sad."
Erwin reached out and patted her head with gentle comfort. "That's simply life, Hermione. Unexpected, terrible things happen regardless of deserving."
She nodded understanding, sniffling quietly.
Erwin's gaze swept across the assembled professors. He nodded respectfully to Grindelwald and Dumbledore, then acknowledged the others.
Finally, his eyes settled on Lily and Snape, sitting together in quiet conversation. Snape was actually smiling—a genuinely rare sight.
Erwin smiled back with warm satisfaction. His godfather deserved this hard-won happiness after enduring years of terrible suffering.
He didn't disturb their moment. Instead, he located an available seat, and Charlotte settled beside him in comfortable silence.
The memorial service began shortly after. It proved a relatively simple, understated affair.
Ron hadn't made any particularly notable contributions to the wizarding world, so the formal eulogy remained appropriately brief and somewhat scripted.
As the final words concluded, Ron's ghost began slowly dissolving into nothingness.
Before he vanished completely, Ron seemed to have achieved some measure of reconciliation with his assembled family. A faint, peaceful smile touched his translucent lips, and he bowed deeply to everyone present in final farewell.
Erwin shook his head with quiet resignation. Many things remain beyond our control, no matter our power.
He felt a distinct pang of guilt settle in his chest. Ron had been a sacrifice—Erwin wouldn't deny that uncomfortable truth.
The boy's fate had been genuinely terrible, shaped significantly by Erwin's calculated machinations and broader plans.
But Erwin wouldn't permit himself to regret the necessity. In this world, nothing proved more important than protecting one's own interests and goals. For that fundamental principle, he could justify sacrificing virtually anything, even Ron Weasley.
After the service concluded, Erwin departed immediately without lingering. He had critically important matters requiring his attention.
No one knew precisely where he went; he simply vanished without explanation or fanfare.
The broader wizarding world didn't observe Erwin again until the Hogwarts holidays officially ended.
At the opening ceremony of the new academic term, he reappeared without comment on his absence.
Charlotte had graduated, and Pansy Parkinson had formally taken her place as Erwin's personal attendant and public representative.
But circumstances were dramatically different now. Pansy's ceremonial role seemed largely unnecessary in practice—Erwin was frequently absent from school entirely.
This particular year at Hogwarts proved eerily peaceful in atmosphere.
While incoming first-years noticed nothing unusual, older students gradually felt something fundamental was missing from their daily experience.
After some informal investigation and discussion, they realized Hogwarts had become genuinely stagnant—a pool of still water without ripples or excitement.
It proved boring for adventure-seeking students, but the professors deeply appreciated the unprecedented quiet.
Professor McGonagall remarked more than once how remarkably easy this particular term had been compared to previous years.
Six months passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.
Then, a genuinely major event shook the entire castle: Dumbledore formally stepped down as Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Professor McGonagall ascended to become the new Headmistress. The perpetually cursed Defense Against the Dark Arts position changed hands yet again—this time to Voldemort himself.
Yes, the Dark Lord became the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
It required Voldemort approximately two full months to convince the terrified students he wasn't going to curse them on sight for minor infractions.
Eventually, they grew cautiously accustomed to his presence. Voldemort, to absolutely everyone's genuine surprise, appeared to genuinely love teaching the subject.
He seemed almost... happy—at least, as happy as someone with his particular nature and history could realistically be.
As for Dumbledore and Grindelwald, they had departed together to travel the world, thoroughly enjoying their well-earned retirement.