Chapter 407: You're Playing Me

Chapter 407: You're Playing Me

"A young man?" Grindelwald's smile was ambiguous, neither purely benevolent nor malevolent. "Someone like Newt Scamander, perhaps?"

Dumbledore shook his head helplessly.

"Newt hasn't been young for a long time. The last time I saw him, his grandson was already old enough to start school."

"However, the young man I'm referring to is no less impressive than Newt, and in some aspects, even more outstanding."

Grindelwald stared at him intently.

"Rarely do you compare two students. It seems this young man must truly be exceptional."

Dumbledore spoke earnestly.

"Voldemort has created six Horcruxes. So far, this young man has found and destroyed two of them. And just half a year ago, he nearly killed Voldemort, who had just been resurrected using his blood."

Grindelwald's smile faded, and he spoke calmly.

"From what you've said, he indeed deserves to be called exceptional."

"You should remember that the last time I came to you, besides wanting to learn about Voldemort's method of resurrection, I also asked for your opinion on the prophecy about the Chosen One", Dumbledore said.

Grindelwald's face was full of disdain.

"Of course, I remember that prophecy you heard from the Divination professor you hired. What was her name again?"

"Sybill Trelawney."

"Ah, yes, the Trelawney family, descendants of the famous Seer Cassandra Trelawney. But so what?" Grindelwald said lightly. "I've always told you, Albus, not to take such things too seriously. I myself am a Seer, and in the family of that Divination professor, my status would be on par with her most famous ancestor."

"Nobody understands the nature of prophecies better than I do. Once an outsider places even the slightest trust in a prophecy, what might have been a mere possibility becomes a certainty. The more one tries to change fate and thwart the prophecy, the more they are drawn towards its ultimate outcome."

"It's like the story of Oedipus in Muggle mythology."

In Grindelwald's youth, he always believed that the greatest enemy of wizards would be Muggles. Unlike Voldemort, Grindelwald didn't harbor much prejudice against Muggles. Instead, he felt fear from the visions of planes, cannons, and bombs that flashed before his eyes. He knew that Muggles would eventually possess a power a hundred times more terrifying than wizards. Therefore, he wanted to establish wizard dominance over Muggles before they could fully control that power.

The more he valued his enemies, the more he understood them. Grindelwald had read many books written by Muggles and had a deep understanding of the customs, culture, and mythology of the European continent.

Oedipus was a Greek myth about a king who killed his father and married his mother.

The story began with a prophecy that the king's son would kill him and marry his own mother, filling the king with terror. He ordered a servant to take the child and abandon him in the wild to die of starvation.

However, through a series of events, the child, Oedipus, not only survived but unknowingly killed his father and married his mother, becoming the new king.

In the end, when the truth was revealed, Oedipus' mother committed suicide, and Oedipus, unable to accept reality, blinded himself and chose exile.

Dumbledore, of course, had heard this story before. The old king was a classic example of someone who believed a prophecy and, in trying to defy it, only ensured its fulfillment.

Voldemort's actions towards Harry were strikingly similar to those of the old king in the story.

By saying this, Grindelwald had essentially predicted Voldemort's ultimate fate.

"That's why I've always told you, Albus, not to take prophecies too seriously, especially those that concern you personally", Grindelwald said softly.

Dumbledore laughed lightly.

"To be honest, when Voldemort killed the Potters that night, I started to believe the prophecy. But three years ago, I saw the young man's performance and began to doubt it. The more I saw him do, the more indifferent I became to the idea of a Chosen One. Do you know what the young man said to me?"

Grindelwald narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore.

"You look like you're showing off."

Dumbledore asked and answered himself, completely unconcerned.

"He said, 'Professor, I have never believed that what we are doing now is bound to succeed, but I am clear that what Voldemort wants will certainly fail. No one is indispensable in this world. If we fail, there will definitely be someone else to take our place, because we are not the only ones who have thought of resistance, nor are we the only ones who want to uphold justice. What we need to do is to do our best in the present, without relying on any prophecies or destiny. We only rely on ourselves.'"

Grindelwald seemed unmoved by this, while Dumbledore blinked.

"Wasn't that well said?"

"It's just empty talk that sounds good."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, speaking casually.

"You know, he wasn't just talking. He put everything he said into action. Just an hour ago, we found Voldemort's last unknown Horcrux, and I am already prepared, Gellert."

Grindelwald narrowed his eyes, sensing a different tone in Dumbledore's words.

"What are you preparing for?"

"I am old enough", Dumbledore said calmly. "No matter how people will judge my rights and wrongs in the future, I am over a hundred years old. My life has been long and eventful, but it is indeed time for it to come to an end."

Grindelwald's face darkened, and his tone made it clear that he was in a terrible mood.

"You are ready to die?"

Dumbledore shrugged.

"Oh, you misunderstand. I mean that I am ready to retire from all my positions and live a quiet, retired life."

Grindelwald's dark expression did not fade but grew even darker.

"You're playing with me!"

Dumbledore continued speaking to himself.

"How about you find me a room next to yours for my retirement? Since you don't plan on leaving anyway."

"Get out!"

Sherlock sat in his chair, holding the Gaunt ring embedded with the Resurrection Stone. After three days of study, he could clearly sense the powerful and insidious Dark Magic attached to the ring.

This Dark Magic was strong and, like a venomous snake, both hidden and cunning.

At the moment, it seemed there was no problem with him holding the ring without any protection. However, if he intended to destroy the ring or put it on his finger, the Dark Magic would activate, swiftly affecting his entire body.

However, the method Sherlock used did not require destroying the ring or wearing it. It could effectively and harmlessly extract the fragment of Voldemort's soul trapped within the ring.

But Sherlock did not act immediately. After fiddling with the ring for a while, he put it back in his pocket, taking no action against the soul fragment inside.

Calculating the time, he had about ten minutes before class started. Sherlock took his textbook and the materials needed for the lesson and headed toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Today's class was a combined one for the fifth-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Since fifth-year students were preparing for their Ordinary Wizarding Level exams at the end of the semester, their coursework was intense, and they dared not slack off in class.

Harry and Ron sat together, taking notes diligently while whispering to each other.

"Are you really not going to ask Professor Forrest what he did with Malfoy over the weekend?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "No! What reason would I have to ask? Just say I'm curious? Besides, if Professor Forrest is really using Malfoy as a bridge to gather information from his father about the Dark Lord, do you think he would tell us that?"

Ron's quill paused as he clearly thought about this.

"Probably not. Hey, Hermione, stop kicking my chair."

"Use declarative sentences, not questions. Professor Forrest won't tell us what the Order of the Phoenix is planning. It would be easier for you to have George and the others gather information from Mr. Weasley."

"Information from Mr. Weasley about what?"

A calm third voice suddenly interrupted their conversation, making Harry and Ron jump. Harry, pale-faced, quickly explained.

"Nothing, Professor. We were just chatting, just talking nonsense."

Hermione, sitting behind them, covered her face, feeling utterly exasperated with the two hopeless idiots.

Sherlock, watching the two students openly "conspiring" to investigate the Order of the Phoenix's plans in his class, couldn't help but feel a new question arise in his mind.

So, how did Harry ultimately defeat Voldemort?

He knew no one could answer this question unless there was a Muggle named Rowling in this world who wrote a series of books called Harry Potter.

"Chatting can be done anytime, but I don't think it should happen in class", Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow. "Your homework today will be five inches longer than everyone else's. And don't let me see any content that repeats Hermione's work, or I'll double the parchment size for you to rewrite."

Harry and Ron hung their heads in disappointment.

Sherlock never liked using point deductions as punishment in his class. He always emphasized that students should take responsibility for their mistakes, so assigning extra homework to those who misbehaved was his preferred method.

Some students argued that writing more homework involuntarily wouldn't help them learn more. In such cases, Sherlock would calmly explain that punishment was punishment. Making them write more homework was no different from detaining them; it was just a different method. He didn't expect them to learn anything from the extra work.

Harry and Ron accepted their fate and finished the Defense Against the Dark Arts class obediently. They then left the classroom with Hermione.

"I was already giving you obvious hints, but you still didn't notice anything", Hermione fumed, clearly angry at their stupidity. "And some of you even blamed me for kicking your chair."

Ron, used to Hermione's scolding, said without a hint of embarrassment.

"Getting extra homework from Professor Forrest has already put us in a bad mood. Hermione, don't make it worse. Where are we going next? Back to the Gryffindor Common Room?"

Harry didn't want to go back to the common room. This semester, which was nearly his fifth year at Hogwarts, had been both peaceful and boring.

"How about we visit Hagrid? We haven't seen him in a long time. He took a two-month leave at the start of the semester, and even the Care of Magical Creatures class was temporarily taught by another professor. I saw him in the Great Hall yesterday, so he must have just returned."

Ron looked surprised.

"Hagrid is back? We should definitely go see him. Maybe we can get him to spill what he's been up to these past two months. You know, he's never been very good at keeping secrets."

Hermione, seeing that Ron hadn't learned his lesson, raised her eyebrows, but she also wanted to visit Hagrid. They hadn't seen him in a long time.

Hagrid's hut near the Forbidden Forest looked just as it did when they first met him, though the vegetable patch in front of the fence had become overgrown. It seemed he had little time to tend to it these days.

Hagrid was delighted to see Harry and the others. He poured each of them a cup of hot tea and brought out a plate of cookies.

"You came at the right time. I just baked these rock cakes this morning. Come on, try them."

Seeing the "snacks" he brought out, Harry and the others all showed signs of discomfort but still reached out to take the rock-hard cookies, slowly grinding them between their teeth.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end