Chapter 412: Grindelwald: Give Me Your Wand

Chapter 412: Grindelwald: Give Me Your Wand

Brolin's tone carried a heavy weight of sorrow and disappointment, while Abigail clenched her teeth, her eyes turning red.

She didn't think she had forgotten; it was just that while spending time with the children, she had found some respite...

But the Patronus had indeed changed, and even she couldn't explain it.

Baird averted his gaze slightly, looking at the bottles on the shelf reflecting the light.

For a wizard with a proper education and a legitimate identity to join their anti-wizard organization, there must be a reason—

Either they had grown up within the organization, with parents and family members who were all part of it, and their loyalty to the organization surpassed that of their teachers and classmates at the magic school.

Or, like Abigail, they were filled with hatred towards wizards, even wishing for their own destruction along with the world.

After a moment of silence, Brolin sighed and softened his tone.

"Sierra, you're tired. Go and rest for a while," he said. "You don't need to go back to that school either."

"My mission isn't over yet," Abigail exclaimed, lifting her head with determination. "I'm willing to prove myself through my actions!"

"I remember you mentioning in your letter that Vold Grey had already handed over the puppet to you?" Brolin asked.

"Yes..."

"Then your mission is over," Brolin stated.

The faint smile on his face had completely vanished, and his eyes held a hidden skepticism and suspicion.

A chill ran down Abigail's spine, and she clenched her fists, lowering her gaze. "I understand," she said.

...

As Baird watched his companion leave in a daze, he spoke up, "Sierra just saved the students on the train, and her reputation is at its peak. The students trust her... Her departure will greatly hinder our mission."

Brolin sighed deeply.

The bartender with the graying hair beside them spoke up, polishing a glass as he said, "It's better to fail the mission than to risk a comrade's betrayal."

"Abigail possesses too many confidential secrets. If she were to betray us, the damage to the organization would be immeasurable."

"And there aren't many wizards in our organization who have mastered most of the magic system and performed as excellently as her. Even if she doesn't go out on missions from now on and stays at the base to teach those children, it's still better than having her loyalty questioned."

"I understand," Baird nodded.

"How's the child you're in charge of?" Brolin asked. "The mission doesn't seem to be going smoothly?"

"Yes," Baird replied with embarrassment. "Vold Grey is elusive even at school, and it's very difficult to get close to him. Carrel was sorted into a different house, and they rarely have the chance to interact."

"It seems I made the wrong choice," Brolin said, shaking his head slightly. "I thought that with the child's amiability, it would be easier to build a relationship and exert influence. But I forgot that if the other side is a snowy mountain, a mere torch cannot ignite it."

"I've heard that even Ravenclaw students find it hard to talk to Grey."

Baird frowned. "He has very few friends, and he's gathered them all in a small club dedicated to studying and research."

"He doesn't play games, date, attend parties, watch matches, or even frequent the common room of his house—even his best friends don't know where he is when he's not in class."

Baird was incredulous, finding it hard to comprehend how such a teenager could exist. What was the point of living like this?

During the past six months, Baird hadn't been idle. He had opened a snack shop in Hogsmeade, and many students visited during the Hogsmeade weekends. Even without intentionally seeking information, he had heard plenty of school gossip.

After listening for a while, he forgave Carrel's slow progress—if he were in Carrel's shoes, he wouldn't know how to approach someone who was practically untraceable.

"For Vold Grey to surpass most adult wizards and achieve so much in just two to three years, he must possess a heart that embraces solitude and endures loneliness."

Brolin spoke with admiration. "Hasn't our organization grown to where it is today because of this very spirit? From another perspective, such a pure scholar is actually easier to manipulate."

A pure scholar?

Baird recalled some rumors he had heard—like turning cockroaches into cockroach cows, scaring classmates into wetting their pants—and felt that this "scholar" wasn't so pure after all.

But he still bowed and said, "Yes, you're right."

"As for the mission, don't worry too much—you'll have a new assistant," Brolin assured him.

Baird hesitated for a moment and asked, "Is it... the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"It's time for Professor Sierra to return, and we need a new professor to take over her position."

Of all the subjects at Hogwarts, this one had the most frequent changes in professors, making it the most convenient position to fill.

Professor Brolin shook his head. "You can't keep rotating the same position... Just be patient and wait for your turn."

"Yes, sir."

...

Considering the presence of parents, which might make the children feel restrained, Ferdinand had arranged for a house in Westminster to be cleaned and prepared for their stay. On the third day of the holiday, Vold, Harry, and Michael moved in.

Each of them now had their own bedroom, and they didn't have to rush for breakfast. The day after they moved, Michael slept until noon.

Westminster was located in the central area of London, much livelier than the remote town where the Greys had previously lived. In the mornings, when there were fewer people around, they went to watch movies, and in the evenings, they enjoyed the opera.

The area was also close to King's Cross Station, and they often saw wizards with peculiar attire passing by on the streets. Employees of the Ministry of Magic were also frequently seen in this area.

There was a park nearby with a bustling carnival, brightly lit and bustling with people even at night.

They tried all sorts of rides, and as they plunged down the roller coaster, Harry and Michael's screams made Vold wonder if their magic was about to go haywire.

The park was also preparing for the upcoming Christmas Fair, with some vendors already selling their goods from carts, while others carried bags or stuffed small items into their pockets, selling them on the streets.

Of course, the most popular attraction was the video games. The joy of leveling up, clearing stages, and accumulating points was addictive, even for adults, let alone two thirteen-year-old boys who had never experienced such games before.

After dinner, as they sat in front of the game console, Michael waved at Vold. "This game can be played by two people. You don't always have to accompany us. If you have something to do, go ahead!"

Harry was taken aback. "Vold, don't you like playing these games? Or do you want to play something else?"

His gaze shifted to the pile of game boxes in the corner, trying to find one that was more appealing—though, in Harry's eyes, each game seemed captivating.

Vold waved his hand. "It's not about the game itself. I just prefer studying magic."

"Oh..." Harry didn't quite understand but said, "Then... then go and study..."

As Vold left in high spirits, as if he were off to a date, Harry paused for a moment before turning to Michael. "Michael, have you finished your homework?"

"What are you talking about? The holiday has just started, and I haven't even begun."

Michael pressed the power button, quickly turned around, and sat cross-legged next to Harry, picking up the game controller.

"Shouldn't we... start working on our essays too?" Harry shifted uncomfortably, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

"Don't compare yourself to Vold!" Michael said nonchalantly. "I've realized that trying to keep up with him will only tire you out. Don't worry, we'll finish our homework eventually. The holiday is short, so we should make the most of it."

"Yeah... You're right."

Harry relaxed and made a decision.

After this game... we'll play tonight, but tomorrow morning, we'll definitely start on our homework...

...

The black fortress stood on the island, battered by the sea breeze and crashing waves against the dark rocks.

A layer of ice had formed around the small island, and the waves constantly broke it up, only to be swept back into the sea. The ice chunks clashed with the rocks, making a crunching sound as if some monster were chewing and swallowing its prey.

The narrow cell was as cold as a giant ice cube, with thick frost covering the walls and floor. The ragged old man, barely covered by a thin blanket, held several newspapers in his hands.

He read the headlines of the newspapers, one by one, without missing a single issue.

Not far in front of him, a large mirror leaned against the wall, but instead of reflecting the old man's image, it showed a group of people searching through the nearly flattened island.

"The British Ministry of Magic has rescued dozens of children kidnapped by Muggle organizations. The Hogwarts Express was attacked by Dementors from the Ministry, and Muggles have developed weapons to restrict wizards?"

The old man's voice was hoarse and filled with sarcasm as he asked.

"That's what the news reports say," replied a man in a black cloak, hanging outside the cell. "By the time our people reached the island, there wasn't much of use left... But it's said that Dumbledore once faced that weapon directly."

"And what happened?" The old man asked with interest.

"As you can see..." The man replied, "The island has been reduced to ruins. The owner of that island also committed suicide before the Aurors arrived."

"Hahaha..."

Grindelwald's laughter echoed in the cell, causing him to cough a few times.

"Poor Dumbledore... I bet the British Ministry of Magic didn't take his so-called 'weapon' seriously at all."

"Yes," the man said. "Fudge is busy preparing for the Quidditch World Cup in half a year. He thinks the matter is over, and the 'weapon' is just Dumbledore's exaggerated claim."

Grindelwald couldn't help but laugh again, "I'd love to see Dumbledore's expression back then—watching as each of his chosen fools exceeded his expectations. Dumbledore's face must have been a sight to behold."

The man outside the window remained silent, knowing that it was best not to speak at this moment, as any agreement or disagreement might anger the old man inside.

When the laughter subsided, the man said, "Just as you once prophesied, Muggles are developing rapidly, and the threat to the wizarding world is growing greater... Sir, we need you to lead us again."

Grindelwald's lips curled upwards, "Do you think I'm still the Grindelwald I used to be? Look at me, kid. Even an ungraduated child could defeat me now. You want me to lead you?"

"The wizarding world still fears you, sir, and we are still waiting for you."

The man's tone became slightly fervent, "The signs of danger have already begun to show, but the wizards remain oblivious!"

"This world is dull, foolish, bloated, and lazy! Only when the crisis of death looms over their heads do they struggle, but by then, it's too late!"

"Sir, what the wizarding world needs now is not an invincible warrior, but a wise leader! Someone who can foresee the future and guide us! Your magic may not be as strong as before, but your wisdom will not fade with time!"

"Please lead us again, Mr. Grindelwald—for the greater good! For the survival of the wizarding world! To build our ideal nation! We need you, we implore you! Sir..."

The man's face turned red with excitement, his body trembling as he clung to the small window of the cell, pleading desperately, as if he wanted to take his heart out.

After a long silence, a voice from inside said, "Stop shouting... It's annoying!"

His fervent expression froze, and his face turned pale. His strong body swayed in the cold wind, as if he might fall from the tall tower at any moment.

Then, he heard Grindelwald say—

"Give me your wand."

...

Bournemouth, Suburbs, Hospital.

The wheels of a small cart squeaked as it moved, and a small figure quickly hid behind a nearby door, revealing only a calm eye to observe the situation outside.

Two male orderlies pushed the cart down the corridor, engrossed in conversation and oblivious to their surroundings.

Mabel, hiding behind the door, breathed a sigh of relief. She took out an apple she had just stolen from the ward and devoured it in a few bites.

"Crunch, crunch..."

A faint sound caught the attention of one of the orderlies, who turned around.

"What is it?" asked the other man, a blond.

"Sounds like a mouse..."

The blond man listened carefully, then frowned, "Where? You must have heard wrong."

"No, I really heard it..." the first man insisted, wanting to pull the blond man back to check.

"Alright, stop being nosy! The sooner we finish, the sooner we can rest!" The blond man swallowed nervously, glancing at the gloomy sky outside. "If we're late getting back and run into a Dementor, we're done for..."

"Yeah..." The first man shuddered, his voice trembling, "What if we're caught... Will the Dementors give us the Kiss for escaping like this?"

"They might. I remember someone suggesting that in the newspaper... The Ministry's gone mad, sending out over a hundred Dementors!"

"Those monsters might be nearby... Haven't you noticed? The sky hasn't been clear for days!"

"Of course I've noticed! Let's... let's escape from here, leave this city..."

"Are you kidding me? Have you forgotten that those guys inspected the Hogwarts Express? What if we run into them on the way?"

These two were none other than Lockhart and Goyle Trocar, who had escaped from Azkaban and were still on the run.

After exchanging threats, they continued their work, their faces filled with worry and sighs.

Not far behind them, a black mist swiftly and silently climbed onto the roof, then followed the two men at a slow pace.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end