Chapter 547: Gaunt Ring

Chapter 547: Gaunt Ring

In Hogsmeade Village, Felix was conversing with a representative from the French Ministry of Magic.

The man, Giles Fitzjames, was quite talkative. Ignoring his frequent attempts to smooth down his sparse and pitiful hair, the conversation was relatively pleasant.

"I hear that Mr. Hep is also a trustee of Beauxbatons, a talent discovered by Mr. Nicolas Flamel... He really chose well. Mr. Flamel was always generous and kind. I received a substantial scholarship during my student days, and he truly was a good man, wasn't he, Malen?"

Giles turned to the middle-aged wizard standing beside him, the Deputy Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

"You're right", Malen said steadily. "Mr. Flamel's passing is a great loss to the French magical community."

Giles cleared his throat. "Indeed, but we now have Mr. Hep. History always repeats itself..."

"Yes", Deputy Headmistress Malen said briefly.

Felix smiled but remained silent. This conversation had started with Giles indirectly inquiring about the scholarship arrangements at Beauxbatons. Upon learning that everything would remain as usual, Giles spent a full ten minutes showering Felix with flattery. However, when he noticed that Felix was uninterested in the praise, Giles quickly switched to extolling Nicolas Flamel's contributions.

Nicolas Flamel left behind many legacies, but Felix had only taken what was most useful to him. The rest remained untouched. He had only visited the Gringotts vault in France once, which contained few alchemical items of interest.

So when the goblins at Gringotts presented him with a stack of thick contracts, he chose not to revoke any of them.

Felix found this decision satisfying.

"The wind is a bit strong today", Giles muttered, pushing aside a lock of hair that kept tickling his nose.

But soon, a distant commotion caught Felix's attention. He looked up, his expression turning serious.

He extended his hand, and a small black dot appeared in his palm. The dot spread like ink in water, and in an instant, a book materialized in his hand.

"Mr. Hep?" Giles asked in surprise, curiously examining the Runescript Book in Felix's hand.

"We have trouble, Mr. Giles. Inform the others to take cover", Felix said calmly. His figure vanished, and he reappeared at the edge of Hogsmeade.

An exaggerated black tornado was heading towards Hogsmeade Village, uprooting rocks, turf, bricks, and trees in its path, causing chaos among the wizards.

"Silence."

Felix heard Amelia Bones' loud voice, but it had little effect. Everyone was terrified by the sudden disaster. Although the tornado was still some distance away, the howling wind and rain had already arrived, pelting down on them.

"Ministry of Magic Aurors, strike teams, stand with me to fend off the storm", Bones called out. Ministry of Magic personnel emerged from hidden corners.

Felix placed his hand on the Runescript Book. The pages rustled, and a dozen milky-white orbs flew out, hurtling towards the massive, menacing tornado.

"It's Lumos!"

"Professor Hep is here."

The black tornado swallowed the orbs, and a few seconds later, it began to swell, as if trying to pull down the clouds. Brilliant columns of light pierced the swirling vortex, dispersing it just before it reached the village.

The black tornado was forced to split into several smaller whirlwinds, which surged into the village, wreaking havoc. Debris and branches rained down from the sky. Felix watched as a boulder the size of a human head smashed through a shop's roof, and the subsequent whirlwind scattered the furniture and ornaments inside, making it look like a monster was vomiting.

After dispersing one of the smaller tornadoes, Felix had to pause. Standing amidst the chaotic air currents, he gazed upward. A black-robed wizard appeared in the sky, his features blurred and skin pale.

His red eyes surveyed the destruction below, and he silently grinned. Thousands of wizards—what use were they?

"Come up", he mouthed.

Felix remained unmoved, his silver eyes locked on Voldemort. From the perspective of a Thestral, Voldemort's soul radiated a dark, luminous glow, with several missing pieces, like a decayed pumpkin gnawed and discarded by a beast.

A thought flashed through Felix's mind: Voldemort's soul was far uglier than his appearance.

He counted the gaps repeatedly—seven in total.

This meant Voldemort had created seven Horcruxes, splitting his soul into eight parts, including his main body. They had already destroyed four Horcruxes: the diary, the diadem, the Gaunt Ring, and the snake. Three remained: Slytherin's Locket, which was in Dumbledore's possession; Harry, who was a half-Horcrux and could not yet be separated; and the final, unknown piece.

Felix's lips moved, relaying this information to Dumbledore, who was hiding in a corner of Hogsmeade. Afterward, he kicked a stone aside and leaped into the air, facing Voldemort from a distance.

"I may have overestimated you, Voldemort", Felix said. "A so-called ruler who slaughters innocents."

"Just a greeting, would you care about accidentally harming a few ants?" Voldemort said lazily, twirling the Elder Wand in his hand as he scrutinized Felix's silver eyes, his snake-like nostrils flaring with excitement. "As expected... you've also modified yourself. You chose the Thestral?"

"Ah", Felix said without a trace of emotion, "after all, it's a creature that has a connection to death."

"But they are too weak. I prefer the Basilisk", Voldemort commented condescendingly. "I raised several, but unfortunately, none of them grew to maturity. It might have been due to some crucial steps being missing. Later, I found that I preferred dark magic. I conducted some experiments on myself—some were successful, others were not. This is the price of being at the forefront of the entire magical world, having to endure some trial and error."

Voldemort relished this pre-battle banter; it was one of his few interests. However, there were few people in this world who could discuss magic with him, especially since he and Dumbledore had little in common—Dumbledore always used Transfiguration against him and constantly talked about the power of love.

"Where's Dumbledore? Did you two have a falling out?" Voldemort asked with a hint of malice, his snake-like eyes looking down.

"Isn't that what you hoped for? Before you appeared, I killed a dozen Dark Wizards. He might have left, disapproving of my methods", Felix replied.

Voldemort carefully examined his face, as if trying to gauge the truth of his words.

"Doesn't matter", he said, "he's no longer my match."

"Tsk." Felix clicked his tongue.

"Do you think I'm boasting?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes.

"I don't know. But it seems you've finally found a suitable wand, which is why you dare to appear in the light", Felix said, noting that Voldemort had prominently displayed his wand from the start.

"The wand personally crafted by Salazar Slytherin, inherited by his most distinguished descendant", Voldemort spread his hand, and the wand in his grip emitted a bright green light, humming and vibrating.

"In that case, it does suit you", Felix said slowly.

After this brief exchange, the intense battle erupted.

...

Hogsmeade Village was in chaos.

Madam Puddifoot, a short and plump woman, emerged from her ruined shop, looking disheveled. The shop's door had been blown off and was nowhere to be seen. When she saw Voldemort hovering in the air, she collapsed to the ground, muttering in shock, "It's true... he really has returned..."

The more composed wizards gathered together, working in unison to counter the small tornado Felix had just dispelled.

The Ministry of Magic's pre-deployed agents proved invaluable, and some powerful wizards joined the effort midway. The owner of the Hog's Head, cursing under his breath, shattered a small tornado and looked up to see a white-bearded old man who bore a striking resemblance to him.

"You're really useless", Aberforth said bluntly.

Dumbledore waved his wand to disperse a whirlwind, listening intently. After a few seconds, his eyes revealed a complex mix of emotions—surprise, regret, and hesitation. When he looked up, he saw his brother glaring at him with a fierce expression, seemingly debating whether to punch him in the nose.

"Ah, sorry, what did you say?"

Dumbledore glanced into the distance; the battle had already begun. Felix had lured Voldemort outside the village, and the sound of their duel echoed through the valley. Black thunder and golden, blinding fire tore through the earth repeatedly, followed by a rain of spears, gold coins, and... were those Butterbeer bottle caps?

In a corner, a chubby wizard with a walrus mustache peered out, and when he met Dumbledore's gaze, he gave an awkward smile.

...

A large, golden-red bird descended from the sky, its tail shimmering with gold and its sharp talons of the same color. Hanging from its legs and tail was a string of people, especially one who had been clinging to its tail feathers. Fawkes let out an irritated squawk and shook the person off.

"My God—"

"Ouch! Don't sit on me."

"Everyone, be quiet and stay alert!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville got to their feet, seeing Sirius Black holding his wand and scanning the area warily. "Quick, take out your wands, children." The four of them complied. In front of them lay a scene of utter destruction—rubble everywhere, broken display windows, and not a single intact window in sight. A shop sign had been smashed to pieces, and a thick layer of dust covered everything.

"That's Madam Puddifoot's shop. Where's the door?" Ron pointed to the open teashop.

A figure staggered into the shop; it was Draco Malfoy, who almost tumbled into the teashop.

"What's wrong with him?" Neville asked, puzzled.

"Maybe he's regretting it", Ron said disdainfully. "No one forced him to come. He grabbed Fawkes's tail himself."

Harry stared at Madam Puddifoot's teashop in silence, suddenly feeling deceived.

Malfoy had claimed to support Professor Hep, but he had avoided discussing how he would support her, let alone admitting that his father was a Death Eater. The only valuable information Malfoy provided was that he had personally handed the diary (Horcrux) to Professor Hep.

But the problem was, Malfoy didn't know the diary was a Horcrux.

Now that he thought about it, it didn’t really mean anything. Perhaps he was afraid of being controlled by the diary again, which was why he had voluntarily turned it in, choosing Professor Hep, who was also from Slytherin House, as the recipient. As he had said, he didn't want to be involved with the Chamber of Secrets...

As for whether he had considered the safety of young wizards from Muggle families during this time, only heaven knew.

“Did we arrive too late?” Neville asked, his face still showing signs of tension and excitement. He viewed this as a formal operation against Voldemort. “Did the Dark Lord launch a surprise attack here? But what about the professors? Headmaster Dumbledore? The Ministry of Magic staff?”

There wasn’t a single person in sight.

Fawkes let out a cry and flew straight in one direction.

They exchanged glances.

“We’ll follow!” Sirius Black whispered. “Remember, we’re not here to fight. I’ve fought Voldemort before and know how terrifying his power is. We must first meet up with Headmaster Dumbledore, Felix, or the Ministry of Magic and tell them Harry’s thoughts.” He paused for a moment. “You’re all students, but also the most determined warriors. I hope you grow from this. No matter how much I talk in class, it’s not the same as real experience. So, don’t die.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville nodded silently. This felt very different from their usual classes.

“Boom!”

A loud noise came from a distance, as if a mountain had collapsed.

“That’s the direction Fawkes flew in. Professor and Headmaster Dumbledore might be there,” Harry said.

They ran quickly. The streets were littered with debris from buildings, furniture, books, cages, and clothes. They nervously climbed over one obstacle after another, fortunately without finding any bodies.

“There!”

In the distance, a dense crowd of wizards had gathered, seemingly all the residents of Hogsmeade Village. Fawkes flew ahead, sprinkling sparks of light, and finally landed on a rusty stand with a dilapidated wooden sign below it.

“Hog's Head.”

They exchanged curious glances, wondering why Fawkes had stopped here. Harry stepped forward and peered through a large hole in the broken window, nearly choking on the sudden sheepish smell. The tables near the door were covered in dust, and the floor was dirty and greasy.

The light in Hog's Head was dim, but they could vaguely see someone sitting there. Harry’s mouth dropped open—it was Headmaster Dumbledore!

What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be fighting outside? Could it be that Voldemort and Professor Hep were in a one-on-one duel? Was Headmaster Dumbledore a proponent of fair combat? Harry’s mind was in turmoil, and he didn’t even hear Sirius Black calling him. He opened the door in a daze.

Fawkes took the opportunity to fly inside, circling the room twice as if looking for a place to land. Finally, it settled on Dumbledore’s shoulder.

“Harry? What did you see?” Sirius Black and the others cautiously followed, using the faint light from a few small candle stubs to see the only person in the room. “Headmaster Dumbledore?” they exclaimed in disbelief.

“Ah, it’s you,” Dumbledore said softly, turning to look at Fawkes on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have brought them here.”

Fawkes let out a low cry.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, we have important information to tell you,” Harry said urgently. “Voldemort has obtained Salazar Slytherin’s Elder Wand—”

“I know, Minerva told me through her Patronus,” Dumbledore said calmly, playing with his teacup.

“And—Ilvermorny’s Headmaster was killed by Voldemort.”

“I know,” Dumbledore said softly. “Professor Fontana... he shouldn’t have died.”

“I also know how to use Parseltongue to put the Elder Wand into hibernation. I can help,” Harry said.

“It might not work, Harry,” Dumbledore interrupted, his deep blue eyes examining Harry through his transparent glasses. “It won’t work,” he repeated. “You’re not the wand’s master, and it won’t listen to you, especially when it’s in the hands of its true owner. Besides, it’s too dangerous for you to join the battle. I can’t agree.”

Harry was at a loss for words, and the excitement he had felt upon seeing Headmaster Dumbledore vanished.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, is Professor Hep the only one fighting outside now?” Hermione asked, taking a deep breath.

“Yes, Hermione Granger,” Dumbledore said calmly, seemingly unaware of the hidden meaning in her words.

“But why—let Professor Hep fight alone—where are the Ministry of Magic’s Aurors—” Hermione stammered.

“This is a long story,” Dumbledore’s tone remained calm as he looked down at his empty teacup. “For example, Voldemort did not choose the battlefield we had anticipated, and I may have been a bit slower to react due to my stubbornness. Additionally, I had to take time to protect others after the incident. But the real reason I am sitting here drinking tea is that Felix stopped me.”

“What?” Everyone looked at him in surprise.

“Today, three people brought me messages, but only Felix’s message truly uplifted my spirits,” Dumbledore said. “I had to restrain myself… because I knew we weren’t ready, and the conditions were far from ideal.”

“But if you and Professor Hep worked together—” Harry said eagerly.

“That’s the key,” Dumbledore said with a bitter smile. “Defeating or driving away Voldemort isn’t what we want. We want to keep him around.” Dumbledore looked at them with a wry expression. “Felix is fighting outside, and I am thinking of the best way to make my move… I know that even if Felix and I work together, we won’t be able to hold him. We must consider the next encounter, even the final showdown. Should we make him more arrogant, feeling that victory is within his grasp, or—” He hesitated, thinking of the intelligence Felix had shared with him.

Felix could see the fragmented soul… the last unknown Horcrux is likely the Hufflepuff’s Cup, which disappeared along with the locket.

“—should we make him a frightened rabbit, living in constant fear, exposing his vulnerabilities?” He said softly.

The others looked at him in confusion, but Dumbledore had no intention of explaining. He tilted his head back, seemingly fascinated by the cobwebs on the ceiling.

After a moment,

Dumbledore suddenly moved, removing the gloves he had worn for nearly two months, revealing his right hand. His long, slender palm immediately began to change—losing moisture as if burned by an invisible fire, turning dry and black, like a piece of charcoal freshly taken from a hot fireplace.

Dumbledore raised his hand, examining it closely, then used his good left hand to retrieve a black gemstone ring from his pocket and put it on.

“Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry held his breath. “Your hand—”

Is it a disguise? Or is it really injured? That’s why he’s always worn gloves? Harry’s memory became clearer. Since the start of the term, Headmaster Dumbledore seemed to always wear white gloves during his few appearances.

“Now is not the time to discuss this,” Dumbledore shook his head. “Let’s go, we need to end the battle.”

He stood up, and a powerful energy radiated from his body.

Although Harry didn’t understand Headmaster Dumbledore’s intentions, he knew that Headmaster had decided to join the battle. This information was enough to be exhilarating. He was already imagining Voldemort fleeing in panic. They pushed open the broken door and walked out.

A lean figure in a robe turned the corner and ran toward the crowd.

Harry focused to identify the person. “It might be Malfoy,” he said in surprise. “Wasn’t he hiding in Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop?”

“Draco Malfoy? He came with you?” Dumbledore asked curiously.

“Yes,” Harry said vaguely. He didn’t want Headmaster to ask further questions because they involved Sirius Black’s plan to cast an Obliviate charm on the students. Although he knew Snape would likely report this, he still hoped Headmaster would find out as late as possible.

Fortunately, Headmaster Dumbledore didn’t press further, nodding lightly.

“Stay behind the crowd, don’t come forward, and don’t draw attention,” Dumbledore said sternly at the door. The sign with a wild boar’s head creaked in the wind. “Sirius Black, keep an eye on them.”

“Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Sirius Black said softly. He had been hesitant to meet Dumbledore’s eyes since they arrived, though he believed he was right.

The battle in the distance was at its most intense, the ground scarred and pockmarked with the marks of various spells. They approached silently, and no one noticed them. The Wizards watching the battle looked entranced.

The two combatants were far beyond their comprehension, let alone their ability to intervene. The broken puppet guards scattered on the ground were the price of reckless approach.

“Stay back, you don’t want to be burned by the fiery blaze, do you?” Mrs. Bones shouted. A group of Aurors and enforcers stood in front of the crowd, dividing the battlefield. But the front line was a row of tall, robust puppet guards—about one-third of the Ministry of Magic’s major purchase.

These puppet guards maintained a series of magical barriers, absorbing the aftershocks of the battle.

In the distance, Voldemort’s fiery blaze snake and Felix’s Light fire dragon clashed intensely, as if water and fire were incompatible. Each collision showered the ground with red and white fire fragments, burning patches of ground black.

Stones continued to crack under the cold air and the heat of the fire.

Harry looked around and finally found Malfoy in a corner. He was draped in a large cloak, hiding himself completely. Harry could only recognize him by the gray eyes and sharp chin.

At that moment, Draco Malfoy’s eyes were fixed on the battlefield, truly feeling the overwhelming power and pressure of the world’s top Wizards—vastly different from what he had seen from his father.

Harry couldn't guess what Malfoy was thinking at the moment, but he knew for sure that Malfoy must be very excited—much more excited than the house-elf standing on a trash can nearby... Wait, where did that house-elf come from?

Which wizard brought it? Harry wondered blankly.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end