Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 176 I Never Stopped Calling for Help
When Damon left the office, he had several amulets in his hand—magical necklaces made by him and Dumbledore, crafted from black hemp rope and V-shaped gold. These amulets could passively detect heart rate and could also be activated actively, and they even had a location tracking function.

As long as the wearer's heart rate exceeds 140, Damon and Dumbledore will receive a notification simultaneously.

In addition, this is also a one-time defensive measure. As long as magic power is injected and it is thrown out, it can quickly transform into a shield that can withstand the Death Curse. Similarly, when this measure is activated, the two of them can immediately sense it.

This thing was quite expensive to make, but neither Dumbledore nor Damon were short of money at all. Dumbledore didn't have much gold to spare and was planning to melt down and recast some of his magical items, but Damon just casually pulled out a large amount of gold.

This was transferred from his own vault.

His secretary, Shard Clement, was a smart man who always completed his tasks to 120% completion—under his management, Damon's twenty factories in London were doing increasingly well financially.

With cash flow being of paramount importance, large amounts of pounds were converted into gold and stored in designated locations as instructed by Dimon, ready for Dimon to access at any time.

Looking at the enormous amount of gold, Dumbledore couldn't help but ask:
"Is this the money you earned during your child prodigy days?"

“I have a great assistant in London. He’s a real economics expert and he’s constantly making money generate more money.”

"Muggle? You controlled him?"

"Of course, he is now completely my vassal."

"You used a Confusion Charm on him?" Dumbledore frowned.

"No, I just gave him hope."

"hope?"

“Yes, the hope of learning magic—you can’t imagine the desire for magic in a normal Muggle. Clement is an excellent and intelligent man, and such a man always thinks he deserves more and better things—like magic.”

"But shouldn't he be a Muggle?"

"Hmm—I'm going to use him for some experiments to see if it's possible to enable Muggles to cast spells in the future."

"This is a huge undertaking, and even you don't think it will be an easy task."

“Just treat it as a pastime. I didn’t say I had to complete it. The potions I gave him were enough to repay what he did for me. Clement is a smart man; some things don’t need to be fully explained.”

"Of course, the most important thing is that I have power."

Damon stretched out his right hand and grabbed it.

"As long as I remain a powerful wizard, he will not do anything he shouldn't."

When Damon said that, Dumbledore looked at his disciple as if he were looking at a villain.

You are already violating the secrecy law!

That's what he was going to say.

However, the affairs of Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic were already enough of a headache for Dumbledore, and Damon's previous sarcastic remarks had indeed had some impact on him. Therefore, Dumbledore decided to turn a blind eye.

Well, he had no choice but to trust them.
If he can't even trust Damon, then there's no one in the world he can trust.

As Dumbledore watched Damon leave with a string of amulets, a figure flashed through his mind.

Nurmengard Prison.

Grindelwald hummed an unknown tune softly, sweeping the surroundings with a small broom to ensure that everything in the room was spotless.

He wouldn't have done this before.

He once thought he would stay in this room for the rest of his life to atone for his sins, that his lover would never come to see him again until he died, and that he would never be able to forgive himself.

Now, everything has changed. Although Dumbledore has vanished again since their last meeting—neither visiting him nor writing to him.

But the house-elf Lightning no longer withheld his food—he no longer needed to occasionally eat the mice in his room to stave off hunger, though sometimes he needed to soothe his conscience by doing so—this miserable life was exactly what he, the executioner, deserved.

He will die miserably and alone in his old age, dying in a state of utter thirst—body, mind, and soul.

But Dumbledore's change brought him new hope.

Grindelwald believed that once an exception was made, there would be a second one.

It doesn't matter when—a few days later, a few months later, a few years later, or decades later.

Dumbledore will come looking for him again.

Before that, he would clean the once filthy rat cage until it was spotless, and quietly wait for his lover to appear.

As for himself, he maintained absolute neatness in his simplicity—thankfully, the house-elf didn't refuse his offer to cut his hair.

Although Grindelwald is still old, he has gained some of the dashing air of an old British aristocrat.

"Dong dong."

The knocking sound that haunted my dreams finally came.

After confirming that he wasn't hallucinating, Grindelwald concealed his ecstatic joy and calmly opened the door.

"Looks like you're in trouble?"

"Perhaps, but I didn't come to you because of any trouble."

Dumbledore abandoned his plan to enter and handed the amulet he had made to Grindelwald.

"A specially made magical item? What are you going to do with this?"

"I guarantee your safety."

"My safety? Who would care about the life of a wretched old man?"

"Voldemort, he has returned."

Dumbledore looked serious, but Grindelwald simply said nonchalantly:
"Really? Then when will you kill him? And when will you set me free, so we can ride the wind and fly far away together?"

He might come looking for you.

"What do you want to see me for?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's for the Elder Wand? Or maybe something else?"

“Then let him come.” Grindelwald turned and casually placed the amulet on the table, then turned to Dumbledore. “Let that arrogant brat come to me. I guarantee that with the Occlumency you taught me, he won’t be able to read any thoughts from my mind.”

I'll lie to him with my broken teeth and laugh in his face, and he'll probably just attack me. After all, this coward thinks everyone fears death like him—oh, so that's why you gave me this magical item?

“It’s a talisman.” Dumbledore paused. “You can use it to ask me for help.”

"Asked you for help? I thought I'd been doing that all along."

The two stood just a doorway apart, Grindelwald's eyes fixed on Dumbledore.

"But you've never paid any attention to it before, so why have you changed your mind now?"

(End of this chapter)