Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 128 Beware of those who oppose the heir.

The gloomy atmosphere in Nurmengard's prison was almost suffocating.

The walls, which had been without sunlight for a long time, were permeated with an indescribable, indelible, and inexplicable musty smell that seemed to have been passed down for a century.

The space between the iron bars was narrow, barely enough to accommodate any freedom. Only the sound of the wind in the distance and the occasional whisper of a little elf could break the deathly silence for a moment.

Grindelwald sat in his solitary cell, his gray hair completely disheveled, and the marks of time showing on his mottled face.

He's gotten incredibly old.

Time has not spared this former legend; his body is thin, his spirit is dejected, and even the sharpness in his eyes has long since faded, leaving only undisguised weariness and deep contemplation.

He had no magical power at his disposal and looked like an old man nearing the end of his life.

but.

His eyes lit up when he scanned a package of items delivered by elves and saw the envelope that could only have appeared if that person had written to him.

No longer any trace of weariness appeared in his eyes; intense light and passion filled them, an almost overflowing enthusiasm that rivaled that of any wizard in his prime, as if he had returned to those passionate days fifty years ago. Grindelwald's eyes trembled.

Lately, he keeps having the same dream.

The Muggles, drawn by his wand, lined up before "it," their bare feet scraping fearfully against the ground. I smiled coldly, raised "it," and a green flame, like the aurora borealis, shot out from the tip of the wand—so beautiful and mesmerizing, yet terrifying.
He quietly opened the envelope, felt the texture of the letter, and even pressed his nose against it, taking a deep breath.

There was a smell of ash in the air.

Is Fox undergoing a rebirth? It's good that Albus has it protecting him.

The superstition that only his blood could break the seal by biting his finger with his teeth has finally been broken.

His gaze swept quickly across the contents of the letter, his breathing becoming rapid. He wasn't in a hurry to read through everything.
When Dumbledore mentioned Damon White, a hint of curiosity and contemplation flashed in Grindelwald's eyes.

A new name, seemingly with some inexplicable connection to the former Tom Riddle.

Young, exceptionally talented, wielding high-level spells, and having created powerful incantations and his own doctrines.

"If plucking a single hair could benefit the world, wouldn't you do it?"

The old man's lips curled up in a disdainful smile.

Hypocritical thoughts.

Fifty years ago, if someone dared to speak so arrogantly to him, he might have made that person experience the most difficult choice firsthand—by then, such people would often no longer be as composed as they claimed.

But this child...
"He broke the Gamp Transformation Law at the age of twelve."

He muttered to himself, his gaze shifting from the letter to the iron bars of the cell, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Albus's troubles were not unfounded.

This boy's ideas were different from his own, and from that coward Tom's. What was most frightening was that he possessed an overwhelming sense of hope. No one could predict where his future would end.

But what does this have to do with him?

Grindelwald didn't rush to reply; he simply pondered how he could elope with his lover.
Can this boy named Damon be put to use?

"It's not the right time yet."

He peeled open a lemon-flavored candy, put it in his dry mouth, and chewed it slowly.

Because my mouth was so dry, the candy stuck to my mouth at first, which wasn't very comfortable.

But soon, his saliva moistened the candy, and its refreshing sweetness entered his senses.

Grindelwald, leaning against the symbol of the Deathly Hallows, closed his eyes, looked up, and smiled. Harry's scar on his head began to ache again.

The last time I was in this much pain was when I saw Professor Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest. The root cause was Voldemort, who was possessing him at the time.

So, what's going on? Voldemort has returned?
"Hahahaha! Damon White! Just you wait!"

He heard a terrifying voice roaring and laughing. The location was in the forest of Albania. Why was Hogwarts still there?
"Harry? Harry!"

He vaguely heard the call and suddenly woke up from his sleep, covered in a cold sweat.

"What happened, Harry?"

He came to his senses and found his roommates gathered around him; it was still the middle of the night.

This made Harry quite embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I had a nightmare."

Harry instinctively felt something was wrong, but he was afraid he was making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, it was just a dream, wasn't it?

But when daytime came, his anxiety suddenly intensified.

A group of early risers gathered in the hallway, and the number gradually grew, eventually forming a long line—making it impossible for any passing student to ignore them.

Damon noticed it too, but he chose to go have breakfast, while Harry and the others chose to go see what was going on.

The incident seemed to have occurred in a corner on the third floor. The empty corridor was now filled with students. For some reason, they were not huddled together, but rather stood anxiously on either side, even if it meant lengthening the queue.

Harry instinctively sensed something was wrong, and his heart began to race.
Between the two windows were words painted a foot high, the writing shimmering in the light of the burning torches.

The secret room has been opened.

Be wary of those who oppose the heir.

The slogans on the wall were etched with blood, and beneath them floated a motionless, terrifying ghost—Nick, who was nearly headless.

At this point, something was clearly wrong with him.

He was petrified.

"How can this be!"

Harry's lips trembled, and Hermione and Ron, who knew the truth, stared intently at him. Neville's face was filled with fear.

"Wasn't it said that without Parsleyan speech, it would be impossible to open the secret chamber? Could it be that a second person who knows Parsleyan speech has appeared?"

Ron whispered something to the group—Harry couldn't help but feel grateful to him.

Fortunately, Ron didn't suggest that he might have been the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets, otherwise Harry felt he would have been very upset.

"This isn't right! Something has clearly changed that we don't know about, and we must tell Damon immediately!"

Hermione's expression was serious.

Malfoy stood in the crowd, his expression unusually smug.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened! The great Slytherin heir has returned to the school and found his place! Slytherin will be great again!"

He spread his arms wide, and the conversation was quickly steered to another level.

"Who will be Slytherin's successor?"

(End of this chapter)