Chapter 909: The Same Tower, Dumbledore's Choice
Chapter 909: The Same Tower, Dumbledore's Choice
Apart from those present, no one knew about this conversation in the cottage, nor did anyone know that the despised Malfoy had ever been replaced.
For a while after, Hogwarts seemed to return to its peaceful state.
However, this was only an illusion if one ignored the ever-looming shadows around the school, the increasing number of strangers in Hogsmeade, and the perpetually packed Goblet of Fire Pub... It was still peaceful.
It was another weekend.
After breakfast, Kyle happened to meet Malfoy, who was about to watch the Quidditch match, in the entrance hall.
With many people around, they were squeezed out of the castle and then casually parted ways.
Malfoy went to the Quidditch pitch with his two lackeys, but Kyle didn't return to the cottage. Instead, he left the school and headed straight for the Goblet of Fire Pub.
Despite it being daytime, the pub remained dimly lit, and the surrounding patrons were equally gloomy.
Most of them wore large hoods, covering their faces completely.
Kyle made his way to the bar and found Aberforth busy at work.
Then, a spotlessly clean cup was placed in front of him.
"What would you like to drink?" Aberforth asked with a smile.
Kyle was momentarily stunned and stood there in a daze.
"Oh, Merlin's beard, did you see that? The boss... he actually smiled!"
Someone voiced Kyle's thoughts.
"You idiot, you must be drunk!" the person next to him said without lifting his head. "This old goat always has the same expression. I'd rather believe that Hogwarts will offer Dark Magic classes tomorrow than believe he'd smile."
"I swear I saw it," the man continued, "really."
"Okay, I take back what I said."
"You're not drunk; you're drunk on fake alcohol."
...
The two argued beside Kyle, and he gradually came back to his senses.
When he looked up again, Aberforth had returned to his usual demeanor, scowling as if everyone owed him five hundred Galleons.
This was more like it... Kyle breathed a sigh of relief.
Aberforth's smile was too frightening, giving off a sense of a giant teaching a Centaur to knit, filled with dissonance.
It was better this way.
"Thank you..." Aberforth said in a voice only Kyle could hear.
Of course, Kyle knew what he meant.
Ariana had already been to the Goblet of Fire Pub, and she probably told this stubborn old man the truth.
Kyle shook his head, "I'm not doing this for you. I just thought of a possible solution to the problem and wanted to try it.
"To be honest, if she hadn't joined them, I wouldn't have been able to help either."
"Either way, you helped her," Aberforth said, bringing out a dusty bottle of whisky. "Unlike someone who just wanders around without solving the problem and almost gets himself into trouble. Living for over a hundred years and still having no brain..."
"And he even dared to hit me. Just you wait; I'll get him back one day..."
Aberforth's tone was filled with contempt and resentment towards Dumbledore.
The animosity between the two old men didn't seem to diminish after Ariana's resurrection; instead, it had opened a new path due to Dumbledore's previous punch.
Kyle wisely chose not to respond.
It didn't matter what happened between these two old men as long as he wasn't dragged into it.
Aberforth wiped the dust off the bottle and poured a glass for Kyle.
"Try this, it's authentic Eighty-Year-Old Ogden's Firewhisky, not the cheap substitute those fools drink."
As Aberforth spoke, many people heard him.
Everyone looked at him in disbelief.
What was going on? Was the fake alcohol seller so brazen now, not even trying to hide it?
"What are you looking at!" Aberforth said without hesitation, "If you want the real stuff, it's thirty Galleons a glass. Come and get it if you want it!"
So, everyone lowered their heads again.
They couldn't afford it.
"Hmph..." Aberforth sneered, "Five Sickles and you want the real deal? You're dreaming at the wrong time..."
Kyle remained silent.
The reason the Goblet of Fire Pub was popular was not only because it was a suitable place for Dark Wizards to meet but also because these people couldn't afford The Three Broomsticks, so they had to make do with this place.
Changing to a better bottle was a form of psychological comfort in a way.
Kyle picked up a glass cleaner than the ones at The Three Broomsticks and took a small sip.
"How is it?" Aberforth asked.
"It's okay," Kyle said, pursing his lips.
The old man's face fell.
Although Kyle had saved Ariana, it didn't mean he could insult his prized possession so casually.
A young wizard under twenty didn't know anything about Ogden, and this was an eighty-year-old whisky...
"It's not as good as the Hundred-Fifty-Year-Old," Kyle said.
Kyle's words made Aberforth, who was about to speak, close his mouth again.
Because not only did he say this, but he also took out a glass bottle that looked even older. Aberforth only glanced at the year on the bottle, and his lips twitched like he was doing the electric slide.
It was indeed a hundred and fifty years old...
But he quickly realized that Kyle could have obtained such whisky since he had been to 1899, and Dumbledore had mentioned in casual conversation that he had bought quite a few things around that time.
"Hmph, I bet it doesn't have the taste of time-honored refinement," Aberforth said, stiffening his neck.
"It's different; the craftsmanship is different," Kyle said, shaking his finger. "The batch from a hundred and fifty years ago was the work of Ogden's most talented brewmaster, and it was from then on that the so-called... Ogden's Firewhisky was born.
Kyle shook the bottle, and the whiskey inside seemed to ignite, casting a reddish hue onto the murky glass.
The real Firewhisky actually had fire, unlike this brand.
"Sell me a bottle..." Aberforth couldn't take his eyes off it.
"Eight hundred Galleons, take it or leave it."
"Eight hundred..." Aberforth glared, "You might as well rob me."
"It's not like that," Kyle explained, "Robbing takes time and comes with risks. I'm offering you a friendly price of eight hundred, and I wouldn't even let you see it for less than a thousand in my shop."
"I'll take it!" Aberforth's voice squeezed out through gritted teeth, "You damn profiteer."
"Takes one to know one," Kyle laughed and handed over his Transfigured Lizard Leather Bag.
He hadn't expected to seal a deal on this trip.
Aberforth left to fetch the money, muttering under his breath about idiots and fools, and how he'd wasted a trip...
Soon, Aberforth returned and tossed the bag back to Kyle.
"So, what brings you here this time?" Kyle asked, opening the bag for a quick glance before sealing it with satisfaction.
"Just a small favor, keep an eye on a few people," Kyle said, his wand stirring slightly in his sleeve.
"Close your eyes and listen!"
Aberforth lifted an eyebrow, "I can't watch every single one of them. The place is always packed."
"Not all, just a few," Kyle clarified, "The tall guy in the corner, the witch sitting near the door, and the three at the table across."
"Are they Death Eaters?"
"Yes, genuine dark wizards," Kyle confirmed, "Malfoy got this information from Crabbe and Goyle. These are the most troublesome ones, having used the Killing Curse more than once."
Aberforth raised an eyebrow, "Malfoy? Isn't he the one who wanted to kill Dumbledore? How did he manage to extract information in such a situation?"
Apparently, Aberforth was also in the know.
"He seems to have shared his secret mission and gained Crabbe and Goyle's trust," Kyle explained, "An unexpected gain, I didn't think Malfoy was this capable."
"You want me to watch them?" Aberforth asked.
"Just keep an eye on them," Kyle said, "As long as they're here, it means the Death Eaters aren't making any moves, and there's no need to worry."
"What if they do make a move?"
Kyle didn't speak, merely drawing a light line on the table with his finger.
Aberforth raised an eyebrow, "Those are five seasoned Death Eaters you're talking about, and you want me to take them all out... You sure have high expectations of me."
"You could also write me a letter," Kyle suggested, "I don't mind making a trip."
"But I don't want to waste parchment," Aberforth sighed, "Alright, you can go back. Staying here for too long might raise suspicions. Professors and students from Hogwarts don't frequent the Leaky Cauldron."
"It's fine," Kyle said nonchalantly, "They won't be making any moves soon anyway."
"But I don't want to see you again," Aberforth said expressionlessly.
After paying eight hundred Galleons, his gratitude for Kyle vanished in an instant.
Tsk, Kyle thought to himself, Ariana's not that heavy... He left the Leaky Cauldron, muttering under his breath.
Upon returning to school, the Quidditch match had just ended, and students were returning to the castle in small groups, discussing the thrilling game.
In the crowd, Kyle spotted Malfoy again, still surrounded by an empty space, avoided by others. However, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were chatting and laughing, seemingly reconciled.
Kyle took a glance and turned to leave.
Over the following period, the snow on the ground gradually melted, and Kyle's Ancient Runes class remained stable, with one class every week, never dragging on.
Hermione, however, seemed unhappy, constantly asking questions and even finding her way through the Alchemical Mist on her own through self-study.
It was only after Kyle assured her that with her current abilities, she could achieve an 'O' in her N.E.W.T.s that Hermione's visits became less frequent.
She seemed determined to challenge her limits, aiming not just for more N.E.W.T. certificates but for straight 'O's.
Kyle didn't see the need for this... Certificates were just certificates, weren't they?
But with such student enthusiasm, he, as a professor, didn't want to dampen her spirits.
Malfoy continued to bring Kyle occasional news about the Death Eaters' recent plans.
It had to be said that when Malfoy was truly determined to do something, he could achieve quite a bit.
Crabbe and Goyle weren't significant figures either, and aside from the five Death Eaters in the Leaky Cauldron, most of the information they had was rather trivial.
But it was better than nothing.
Additionally, with another informant, Snape, the Death Eaters hiding around Hogwarts, both major and minor, were gradually exposed.
During this time, Dumbledore seemed to suddenly become busy, though Kyle wasn't sure what he was up to. Dumbledore had visited the cottage a few times, leaving instructions for Kyle to stay out of school and wait for a specific opportunity.
As for what that opportunity was, Dumbledore didn't elaborate, and Kyle didn't inquire.
It was time for another Quidditch match.
As usual, the students of Hogwarts eagerly rushed to the Quidditch pitch.
But this time, the crowd was noticeably smaller.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were nowhere to be seen.
Kyle, who was setting up Runes in the garden, suddenly heard the call of a phoenix.
Looking up, he saw Fawkes mysteriously perched atop one of Hogwarts' towers.
"That's the Headmaster's phoenix..." Hagrid also looked up.
He was familiar with phoenixes, but as their teeth weren't like saws and they weren't scary enough, they didn't catch Hagrid's interest, and he quickly averted his gaze.
"That's strange, it usually never leaves the Headmaster's office. What's going on today?"
"Who knows," Kyle said, "I'll go take a look."
"Alright," Hagrid didn't seem concerned.
Kyle left the garden, took out his fire arrows, and flew to the tower where Fawkes was perched at top speed.
The door was open, and Crabbe and Goyle were lying on either side. Dumbledore stood directly in front of the window, with Malfoy facing him, their positions identical to years before.
"Is this... about to start?" Kyle asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, "Tom seems a bit impatient. He's urged Mr. Malfoy more than once, and since I'm alive, he dares not show himself."
"Even though he's already defeated me and taken the Elder Wand from me," Dumbledore sighed, "I thought that achievement would give him enough confidence, but Tom is still so cautious."
"You were really defeated by him?" Kyle's voice rose slightly.
"Yes, a crushing defeat. My wand even became his trophy," Dumbledore spread his hands, indicating he no longer had the essential weapon of a wizard.
In fact, Kyle had seen Dumbledore's other wand, a black one.
But most of the time, Dumbledore didn't use it, preferring to solve problems with wandless magic.
This time was no exception.
"Then, let's begin." Dumbledore turned to Malfoy, "Minerva and Severus are already on their way here, as we discussed."
"Okay, okay..." Malfoy trembled as he raised his wand.
"Wait a moment," Kyle suddenly interrupted, looking around. He took out his wand, picked up Crabbe from the ground, and shook him. "You're not letting Fawkes take your place in the Phoenix's rebirth, right? Someone has to block the Killing Curse, and you don't want to waste it. Plus, if you die, you'd want someone to see it, right?"
A vein popped on Dumbledore's forehead.
"This is a school, Kyle!"
"I know, but..."
"No buts. Crabbe is still a student," Dumbledore said firmly.
"Ugh, what a hassle," Kyle tossed Crabbe aside and opened the box, pulling out another unconscious Death Eater.
"I asked Cedric to check, and this person has taken the lives of five Muggles using Dark Magic artifacts and killed an Auror and two Hit Wizards during Death Eater activities. That should be enough, right?"
Dumbledore's lips twitched, indicating his silent agreement.
Kyle skillfully took out a potion.
"No need," Dumbledore stopped him from attempting to pluck a hair from his head.
"The Polyjuice Potion takes time, and it's not suitable. As he spoke, a black wand materialized in his hand, pointing at the Death Eater.
In the blink of an eye, another Dumbledore appeared.
Kyle held his wand, propping the new Dumbledore against the window. "Professor, are you sure others won't notice?"
"I'm quite confident in my Transfiguration skills," Dumbledore said, "I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I taught Transfiguration for a long time."
Watching their seamless teamwork, Malfoy's hand trembled even more.
Unconsciously, he thought, if he hadn't chosen to betray the Dark Lord and followed the original plan, the 'Dumbledore' being held at wandpoint by the window might have been him.
With this thought, Malfoy's hand wasn't the only thing shaking; his legs began to wobble, and he might sit down any moment.
"Hurry up," Dumbledore urged, "Minerva is already downstairs. The fewer people who know about this, the better we can deceive Tom, just like with Alastor."
Kyle glanced at Dumbledore without speaking, then firmly placed the new Dumbledore by the window, adjusting the distance slightly.
At that moment, chaotic and hurried footsteps sounded from outside; the professors had arrived.
Kyle swiftly turned his wand towards Malfoy.
"Disarm him!"
Malfoy instinctively extended his wand forward.
He didn't cast any spell, but a Killing Curse, like a lightning bolt, erupted from the tip of his wand.
It was like setting off a tasteless firework.
Without any defense, the Killing Curse struck the 'Dumbledore' by the window, and everything around them froze.
Bang! Almost simultaneously, the tower door was flung open.
A tabby cat leaped in and transformed mid-air into Professor McGonagall, followed closely by Professor Snape.
Their first sight was Malfoy's wand spinning and falling into Kyle's hand.
And Dumbledore, bathed in green light that hadn't yet dissipated, was propelled out of the window by some powerful force.
Professor McGonagall's scream was stifled in her throat; she couldn't make a sound and was frozen in place, staring at Dumbledore falling from the tall tower.
...
(End of Chapter)
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