Chapter 1261: The Meeting
Chapter 1261: The Meeting
"So you're still not giving up?" Albert murmured as he put down his communication card after reading Scrimgeour's message. "But I suppose I'm not in a position to judge."
Everyone had the right to make their own choices.
Scrimgeour was still putting up a last-ditch struggle, which, in Albert's opinion, was futile. But if he were in Scrimgeour's shoes, he would probably do the same. No one wanted to resign themselves to fate without a fight.
However, some things were just that cruel.
If Scrimgeour possessed the power of someone like Dumbledore, perhaps things would have turned out differently.
He would have had a good chance of turning the tables and becoming a legendary Minister of Magic.
But Scrimgeour lacked the strength to stand against Voldemort, and the political climate was far worse than it had been during Minister Barnsdale's time.
Scrimgeour's predicament made Albert feel that all his previous efforts had been worth it.
Only with strength could one control their own destiny.
At least, in the face of this disaster sweeping the British magical community, he could remain calm and not be swayed by the dire situation, unlike those pitiful souls floundering in the mud.
"Alright, let's meet then. I was planning to head back to Britain in a couple of days anyway. I'll pay him a visit, and who knows, I might even receive a grand gift." Albert replied to Scrimgeour's message, then turned to look at Isabelle, who was still sleeping peacefully beside him. He glanced at the metal box on the bedside table that held the Elder Wand and murmured, "Just be patient for a little longer, Isabelle. Wait until the Death Eaters and the mysterious man are dealt with, and then you can live the life you desire."
Albert was well aware that what he needed most right now was patience, and he often reminded himself of that.
A year was not a long time. He could even wait for two or three years if necessary.
For now, he had to play it safe.
After all, he was no longer alone.
He had a wife, a child, and dozens of followers relying on him. His actions had to be steady and cautious because he was responsible for the well-being of others.
Even with the power of the Elder Wand, Albert wasn't arrogant enough to think he could turn the tide single-handedly. That would be foolish.
Moreover, his enemy was Voldemort. Albert wasn't deluded enough to believe that he could defeat the most formidable Dark Wizard in history with a simple Disarming Charm—only a protagonist in a story would be granted such a privilege.
His role was to steadily weaken Voldemort through various means and then deliver the final blow.
Even Dumbledore had to exert considerable effort to defeat Grindelwald back in the day.
A few days later, in a secluded suburb of London, England… Albert had just apparated from France and was leaning against a wall to catch his breath. Long-distance apparition was not much more comfortable than using a Portkey.
Perhaps he should make a few stops along the way next time.
Although he knew he could manage even longer distances, it would be a reckless thing to do.
Ever since obtaining the Elder Wand and its immense power, Albert felt like he was losing his sense of fear. He even regretted inheriting the wand from Dumbledore.
While the wand guaranteed his ultimate victory, Albert could feel its influence on him.
It was a dangerous trap.
No wonder Dumbledore had wanted to pass it on.
Speaking of which, how had Harry resisted the lure of the Elder Wand back then? Was it because he was the chosen one, or had he not truly felt the wand's power? Or perhaps he had been influenced by the author's narrative?
Never mind, those things didn't matter now.
Albert placed the Elder Wand back into the lizard-skin pouch and took out his own wand, the one that was supposed to bring him luck. "I really do prefer my own wand," he said to himself.
Albert didn't lack power, and the Elder Wand had no place in his life at the moment. Maybe he would use it for experiments later, but not now.
"Only weaklings become obsessed with power and lose themselves."
Albert certainly didn't consider himself a weakling, but in that moment, he realized why he had brought the Elder Wand with him.
"Am I really that insecure? It's all that damned Noseless One's fault."
Ever since he had caught the attention of the Death Eaters and the mysterious man, Albert had developed a bit of paranoia.
Though he believed that a mild case of paranoia was necessary.
"Silly me," he thought, finding his own train of thought amusing. He shook his head to clear those thoughts and looked out at the streets shrouded in mist.
Ever since Voldemort and his Death Eaters began acting without regard for the Ministry, allowing Dementors to roam freely over Muggle cities, devouring their happiness and even breeding in large numbers, the situation had become dire.
London, with its dense population, had become a playground for Dementors, and they could be spotted roaming the streets even during the day.
The Ministry of Magic had been trying to disperse these Dementors, but to no avail. There were only a limited number of employees who knew how to cast a Patronus Charm, and they were powerless against such a large number of Dementors.
Even if they managed to drive them away temporarily, the foul creatures would inevitably return.
The Ministry's inability to deal with the Dementors exposed its weakness.
Scrimgeour was frustrated about this, but he was equally powerless, and in the end, he could only let the Dementors wreak havoc over London.
"What a nuisance," Albert frowned slightly and raised his wand, sending out a jet of mist that thickened the fog around them.
Then, he summoned his Patronus, driving away the Dementors that lurked in the area.
Although this action carried some risk, it was necessary to avoid the Dementors. Those creatures could recognize people by their scent and emotions, and they might have seen through his disguise.
A ball of light darted through the fog, causing the Dementors, which had been feasting on the misery of Muggles, to scatter as if they had encountered their natural predator.
A middle-aged man reading a newspaper in a nearby cafe seemed to sense something. He looked up, frowning slightly at the thickening fog outside.
Then, the door to the cafe opened, and a blond-haired middle-aged man walked in.
"Are we having a party?" he asked, his eyes scanning the patrons in the shop.
Finally, his gaze landed on Scrimgeour, who was sitting in the middle of the cafe, leisurely sipping his coffee and flipping through a book. The blond man walked over and pulled out a chair to sit down opposite him.
"You're quite bold, aren't you?" Albert said as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from Scrimgeour. "If the Death Eaters really wanted to get rid of you, these Aurors wouldn't be able to protect you."
"But you're here," Scrimgeour said nonchalantly.
"True, but I don't have much experience protecting people. I'm no Dumbledore, so I can't guarantee your safety," Albert replied, glancing at the coffee that the female Auror had placed in front of him. "Also, you certainly know how to pick a time and place for a meeting."
(End of Chapter)
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