Chapter 675: Dumbledore
Chapter 675: Dumbledore
Harry bent down and walked a short distance before straightening up and quickly heading toward the Great Hall entrance.
"Hey, Harry!" He heard someone calling him from behind. Harry turned around and saw Neville, who had a puzzled look on his face. Harry waved at him and slipped into the entrance hall.
Dumbledore and his group were already gone.
Harry guessed they must have gone upstairs, possibly to the Headmaster's Office, but he thought he had heard some noise from outside. After a brief moment of consideration, he ran out to the castle’s platform and strained his eyes to see into the distance. It was almost completely dark, but he could just make out two vague figures.
One was Professor Flitwick, whose height was quite distinctive, and the other... Harry thought it might be Professor Sprout. He strained to look further, but there was no one else. He realized something was off: Headmaster Dumbledore’s white beard was quite recognizable even in the dark.
So they had split up in the entrance hall? Dumbledore had given the professors other tasks?
He heard rapid footsteps behind him and realized the prefects were starting to organize the younger students to return to their common rooms. Without hesitation, Harry took large strides toward the Headmaster's Office. The corridors were eerily quiet, with only the sound of his heavy footsteps. He wondered if he had taken a wrong turn, but after climbing two more flights of stairs, he heard a faint voice from above.
It was Headmaster Dumbledore’s voice!
Harry's heart raced with excitement, but his pace inevitably slowed. Finally, he reached the eighth floor, passed through a door, turned a corner, and quickened his steps. He knew he was about to see the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's Office. He was so familiar with this route that he could walk it with his eyes closed.
And he happened to know the password.
A dark figure suddenly blocked his path, and Harry jumped in fright, nearly falling backward.
It was Snape.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked coldly.
"I, I’m looking for—wait, you were dismissed?" Harry asked in surprise, glancing past Snape to see an empty corridor.
Snape's face stiffened.
"You’re right, Potter", he said in a conciliatory tone, his thin lips twisting into a mocking smile. "Important people are having a conversation inside, and unimportant ones—like me—are tasked with stopping other unimportant and unaware fools."
"Headmaster Dumbledore sent me here!" Harry said angrily.
"When was this?" Harry was speechless, and Snape's tone grew more triumphant. "I was right behind him, and I didn’t hear Dumbledore speak to any students... I suggest you return to the Great Hall immediately, while Madam Pomfrey is still there."
Harry glared at Snape, resentment building inside him. He took a deep breath, drew his wand, and considered whether to cast a Patronus Charm to inform Dumbledore of his arrival.
Snape's eyebrows shot up.
He thought Harry was about to attack him. Snape narrowed his eyes, wondering if this was Dumbledore’s plan: to provoke Potter into a confrontation and then disarm him. Should he resist?
But Harry had already put his wand away, deciding against using the Patronus to send a message. He was certain he hadn’t misunderstood Dumbledore’s hint, and last night, Dumbledore had clearly told him that he would deal with the soul fragment in his body after dinner.
However, the presence of other professors indicated that the Headmaster had other urgent matters to attend to.
Very few people knew about the Horcruxes.
"Where did Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick go?" Harry asked Snape calmly. "I saw them leave the entrance hall."
Snape looked at him silently for two seconds. Just as Harry thought he wouldn’t get any information, Snape spoke:
"They went to the school gates to meet someone. Who is it? Oh, Potter, I guess you want to know that, don’t you? You always have a strong curiosity about things that don’t concern you... But I can tell you, they were ordered to bring the former Headmaster’s brother here, probably for a farewell. You see, Dumbledore does need to see someone, but it’s not you."
Harry ignored Snape’s sarcasm and stood there, stunned.
Of course... Dumbledore was no longer the Headmaster; he had submitted his resignation. Only now did Harry fully grasp the impact of this news. A wave of sadness washed over him, and he couldn’t help but recall the moments he had spent with Dumbledore.
...
"I’m going to die, Minerva, Felix", Dumbledore said softly in his office.
Professor Mcgonagall was stunned.
It wasn’t just the news, but it was as if a thrilling play had reached its climax, where all the suspense and clues were about to be resolved, giving her a fleeting moment of clarity amidst the shock and confusion:
From Dumbledore’s strange behavior at the start of the school year (which she could tolerate), to his sudden announcement of resigning as Headmaster this afternoon, and the odd behavior of Professor Bagnold after Dumbledore sent Pomona and Filius on an errand.
Professor Mcgonagall could see that Professor Bagnold was barely holding back.
When only he, Dumbledore, Felix, and she remained in the Headmaster's Office, Professor Bagnold finally couldn’t contain himself and loudly demanded to know what Dumbledore was planning. What followed was even stranger: Dumbledore, with a look of guilt, handed him a book of fairy tales to pass the time and said he would write to him when he had a moment.
Recalling Dumbledore’s mention of a trip this afternoon, Professor Mcgonagall managed to piece it together.
But then something truly terrible happened: Felix suddenly struck Professor Bagnold from behind, knocking him unconscious. As if they had planned it, Dumbledore stepped forward, caught the now limp Professor Bagnold, and staggered over to lay him on the sofa. Dumbledore then tucked The Tales of Beedle the Bard into Professor Bagnold’s robe pocket and placed a soft cushion under his neck. After doing all this, he turned to the other two and repeated his earlier words.
Professor Mcgonagall stared intently at Dumbledore’s face.
If it were a prank, he would usually have caved by now, but Dumbledore met her gaze without hesitation.
“It’s not April Fool’s Day, Dumbledore!” she shouted. “If you were trying to scare me, you succeeded, you really did… oh, dear…” She suddenly choked up, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Tell me, Albus, this isn’t true,” she said weakly.
Dumbledore repeated his words with a faint but firm voice, “I’m sorry, Minerva, but I am going to die.”
Tears streamed down Professor Mcgonagall’s no longer young face.
“But—what you said about the trip—” she asked, clutching at the last straw.
“It was a lie,” Dumbledore said calmly. “A ruse I designed. Calm down, Minerva, you’ve been through two Wizarding wars. Look at Felix—”
“Don’t include me,” Felix said stiffly.
Dumbledore shook his head slightly.
“Fair enough. For a clear-minded person, death is just another great adventure. I am not afraid of death; what I fear is leaving behind those who are dear to me… which is why I prepared this. Felix, could you do me a favor?”
Dumbledore asked politely, and both Felix and Professor Mcgonagall followed his gaze to two large trunks placed to the left of the long-legged desk. Felix’s lips moved, but he didn’t speak. The trunks then floated into the air and landed on the empty space between them.
“Exactly,” Dumbledore nodded approvingly. “If you would—”
“Click!”
“Click!”
The lids of the trunks snapped open. Felix looked inside, where they were filled with letters.
“Miss Lovegood’s situation gave me the idea—since my position is still useful, I hope you can keep my death a secret after I’m gone. These letters will help you. I’ve categorized them, so it’s easy to tell them apart. You just need to send a few letters over time or mention my travels in public to create the illusion. Oh, and—”
Dumbledore looked at Felix with a pleased expression. “Your Polyjuice Potion might come in handy. You have experience impersonating me.”
Felix understood what he meant. He had once disguised himself as Dumbledore in Voldemort’s deepest memories, and in a sense, he was indeed experienced.
Professor Mcgonagall’s body shook violently.
“Albus, you’re leaving us behind just to send out letters after your death, pretending you’re still alive somewhere in the world?” she shouted, her face turning pale.
Those blue eyes seemed to hold infinite understanding and acceptance.
“I know this is difficult, but trust me, I have my reasons. After tonight, you can ask Felix for more detailed information.”
A noise came from outside.
"I'm coming! Albus, see what you have to say for yourself!" Aberforth's shout echoed from a distance.
"Minerva, pull yourself together!" Dumbledore said sternly. He then looked at Fawkes, the phoenix perched on its stand, looking ill and covered in a layer of dark red ash.
"Fawkes", he said softly.
The phoenix rose, gazing at Dumbledore. "Take him to Minerva's office", Fawkes responded quietly, spreading its wings and landing on the unconscious Grindelwald. A burst of flame, and the two vanished.
Dumbledore turned to Professor Mcgonagall and said, "Minerva, I need you to return to your office. Pomona will bring some people to see you. They are enforcers from the International Confederation of Wizards, tasked with the transfer—"
"Professor Bagnold?" Professor Mcgonagall asked, surprised.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Maintain confidentiality."
"But, Albus, he is—"
"Let Felix explain later", Dumbledore cut her off. "My brother is here, and if I don't let him up, I fear he might resort to violence. He's been quite upset with me lately... Also, have Harry come up; he's been waiting for some time."
The noise outside grew louder, lending credence to his words. Professor Mcgonagall gave him a deep look. "It's been an honor working with you, Albus."
"Likewise, Minerva", Dumbledore smiled at her.
Professor Mcgonagall hurried out, stumbling slightly at the door. When the door closed again, a clear intake of breath could be heard from outside.
The spacious office returned to silence, even though a more temperamental person would soon arrive. For now, it was peaceful.
Dumbledore slowly moved to the edge of the sofa, sitting where Grindelwald had just lain.
"Put those letters away, Felix. I've never been able to predict Aberforth's mood. If he insists on seeing them, it could be troublesome."
"Hide them from him too?" Felix asked softly.
"Perhaps. In his mind, I've always been an irresponsible older brother. It's better to maintain that image, though I can't worry about it much longer. If you plan to tell him, wait a while."
Felix gathered the two boxes of letters.
"I thought you would survive, because—"
"Because Ariana?" Dumbledore asked gently. Felix nodded, and the old man smiled. "You forget, Felix, there's another me in Classroom Seven."
"Thirteen-year-old Ariana should have had a seventeen-year-old Albus Dumbledore by her side, not two elderly brothers who suddenly appeared. I made the decision to erase her last year's memories; it was too cruel for her. But she has a soul's power, which sets her apart from ordinary memory constructs and ghosts, making her more real... If one day she tires of it, she has the right to decide her own fate."
The door burst open.
"Albus! And that jerk!" Aberforth's bulky figure stormed in, followed by Harry, Snape, and Flitwick. "I don't know what sweet talk you used this time—"
He froze when he saw only two people in the room.
"Where is he?" Aberforth licked his lips, his expression fierce.
"Gone", Dumbledore said, closing his eyes. Aberforth's face contorted strangely, and for a moment, Harry thought he was about to shout. But Aberforth just glared at Dumbledore.
"You... you got lucky", he muttered. After a moment, he added, "Where's the key?"
Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked at Felix. Felix, expressionless, extended his hand. Countless tiny Ancient Runes gathered between his fingers, finally forming a solid key. He tossed the key to Aberforth.
"Filius, would you mind making another trip and taking Aberforth to Classroom Seven?" Dumbledore said.
"Oh, uh, yes, Headmaster Dumbledore", Professor Flitwick responded obediently. "Dumbledore—ah, please follow me."
Aberforth stared at the key in his hand, then at Dumbledore sitting on the sofa. "Thanks", he mumbled, following the short Professor Flitwick out.
In the office, Dumbledore, Felix, Harry, and Snape remained.
Snape's gaze swept the room, finally settling on Dumbledore. "Do you need me to guard the door? There are quite a few professors gathered below, all eager for more details. I don't know if you heard Hagrid's loud voice... Professor Mcgonagall left in a hurry and didn't say anything."
“Has Pomona returned yet?” Dumbledore asked.
“As far as I know, not yet,” Snape replied in a low voice.
“Thank you, Severus.”
Snape stared at Dumbledore for a moment, his expression turning cold. He swept his sleeve and left the office with a stern face. Dumbledore seemed oblivious to this, gesturing for Harry to sit across from him.
“Harry, Harry,” Dumbledore murmured, “I’ve thought about this for a long time, and I’ve been hesitant to tell you directly. Perhaps facing your fate passively might unleash a powerful force within you…”
“Am I going to die?” Harry asked, his voice trembling slightly, but his gaze was calm.
Dumbledore looked at him with affection. After a moment, he continued.
“You will survive in the end, I promise you, Harry. But yes, you will need to die once.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the Resurrection Stone ring, putting it on. Harry and Felix stared at his hand, which, though thin and long, now glowed faintly.
Dumbledore shook the ring, “You see, I will protect you.”
Harry pressed his lips together, “What do I need to do?”
“You must be killed by Voldemort, and it must be him. You can probably guess why. Voldemort is now in the Chamber of Secrets. Felix and I have made some adjustments there to give you more freedom. Of course, you can’t just appear before Voldemort. He knows you’re a Horcrux, and he won’t kill you.”
“Then—”
“However, there is someone at the school who can appear before Voldemort without arousing any suspicion. Not because Voldemort trusts him, but quite the opposite—”
“Snape!” Harry exclaimed.
“Professor Snape,” Dumbledore paused, smiling, “It seems you understand.”
Harry nodded.
“I need a weapon. My wand won’t work anymore.”
“Severus is just outside,” Dumbledore nodded, “Oh, and by the way, you might need—Voldemort’s wand is in the left drawer of my desk. You’ve seen it; the handle looks like a beast’s claw.”
Harry was silent for a moment, then he stood up, walked around the sofa, and opened the drawer of the long-legged desk to retrieve a wand.
After a moment’s thought, Harry placed his own wand on the desk.
“Will you come with me?” he asked, looking at Dumbledore as he reached the door.
“Yes, I will.”
Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
The door closed behind him, and Harry heard a clear phoenix cry. He stood there, dazed for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and the spiral staircase began to descend. Finally, the wall in front of him cracked open, and the light from the corridor shone through.
In the corridor, six or seven professors were gathered, whispering to each other and glancing toward the stone gargoyle.
“Harry!” Hagrid called out, waving his arms to get his attention.
But Harry walked straight to Snape, and they stared at each other.
“I need your wand.”
Snape looked at him coldly.
“I need your wand—to avenge her,” Harry finished.
Snape slowly pulled out his wand from his robes, his eyes hollow, and his voice raspy.
“Elder wood, thirteen and a half inches, dragon heartstring core.”
“Thank you.” Harry said, waving the wand twice to get a feel for it, then pointed the tip at himself. Hagrid let out a loud gasp.
Harry’s face began to change; his height increased, his figure became more slender, his skin turned pale, and the scar on his forehead gradually disappeared…
He transformed into Snape’s appearance.
Then Harry pointed the wand at himself again, and his clothes changed into a large black robe.
Hagrid looked shocked, rubbing his eyes hard, unable to speak. The other professors were also startled. Someone whispered, “Being an Animagus can greatly enhance one’s Transfiguration skills.”
“But Potter has only been practicing for less than two months.”
Harry quickly adapted to the changes in his body. He recalled how Snape walked, finding it surprisingly familiar. He took a few steps, quickly getting the hang of it—striding confidently, the hem of his black robe billowing like two deadly vipers. As he passed Hagrid, he stopped and grinned.
Hagrid’s expression was as if he had seen a ghost.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
