Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 177 Grindelwald's Wrath

Faced with Grindelwald's questioning, and recalling the plea in his letter—"I've run out of parchment, and now I can only write to you with torn sheets. Please answer me and don't leave me here"—Dumbledore fell silent.

He seems to have become more silent lately.

"Consider it a gift from me. If you don't need it, just throw it away. Lightning will take care of that for you."

After saying that, he turned around and left.

“Albus—” Grindelwald’s voice rang out again, “Can you tell me about that boy named Damon? I’m a little interested in him.”

He had hoped to use this topic to keep Dumbledore there so that the two could spend some more time together, but unfortunately it had the opposite effect.

Grindelwald's seemingly appropriate topic elicited a stern and abrupt warning from Dumbledore, whose expression was more serious than ever before.

"Never—never—never make a move on him!"

Otherwise, all our previous efforts in this relationship will be in vain.

After saying that, he turned and left.

Grindelwald didn't offer any explanation, but a look of sorrow flashed in his eyes as he stared intently at Grindelwald's departing figure.

Albus still didn't trust him.

That's right.

So whatever he says now is wrong.

Grindelwald understood completely.

But he shouldn't have felt his heart burning so intensely because of a boy and Grindelwald, with whom he had a fierce argument; an inexplicable feeling crept into his heart.

What is he doing?
Has he really become a useless old man, only able to pray that his lover will give him some affection?

He once thought that it was the two of them who were old and broken, but now Albus is still full of strength. Only he himself has been abandoned.

Dumbledore's figure had completely disappeared.

He could have simply used Apparition to leave, but he deliberately gave himself time to speak—he was testing him, trying to see if he had any other intentions.

Grindelwald suddenly felt a bit bored.

He closed the door and sat down at the table in the center of the room. A new chair had been added opposite him, but unfortunately, the owner of the chair was not going to appreciate it.

Grindelwald picked up the amulet from the table and stroked it carefully for a while.

"Superb spellcasting skills, top-notch transfiguration, plus a touch of alchemy—this is Albus's work, but the transfiguration is somewhat unfamiliar. Is it that kid named White?"

Grindelwald paced back and forth in the room, muttering the name to himself—it sounded familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before.

"Damon White. Damon White."

At one point, he suddenly remembered something, opened the bedside table, and pulled out a letter—it was from his great-aunt, Basida Bashat.

I recently met a young man who is also an emerging master of transfiguration.

Every time I talk to him, I can't help but think of Albus in his youth. Both were pioneering and enterprising, following conventions but not dogma, and researching innovative things based on the theories of their predecessors.

You can't believe he's only twelve years old.

I must say, he was even more outstanding and opinionated than the young Albus. In that respect, he was somewhat similar to you.

If he had been born a few decades earlier, perhaps you two would have become very good friends. I haven't been feeling well lately and haven't been able to write to you as often, but you should send me a reply every now and then, shouldn't you?

Grindelwald looked at what he had read, his pupils dilating slightly.

"Damon White, the inventor of the White Theorem, the undisputed master of the new generation of Transfiguration. A twelve-year-old master of Transfiguration."

This is the kind of person Albus values: an ambitious young man who will never be content with mediocrity!
But Dumbledore wasn't wary of him, while Grindelwald saw through it! Albus only felt worry about this young man, not vigilance.

As for himself, this talisman, which included a location, could both protect him when Voldemort came to kill him, and also kill him when he and Voldemort cooperated to leave.

There is absolutely no possibility that Grindelwald will cooperate with Voldemort, not even a one percent chance.

He despised Voldemort's approach—to rule people's hearts with fear, which would never gain true trust.

A general who cannot win people's trust is unlikely to be in line with the general trend.

If Voldemort were to come knocking, Grindelwald would simply laugh as he was killed. Perhaps he would even spit on Voldemort before he died.
But now, Grindelwald has a different idea.
He didn't necessarily need to cooperate with that fool to achieve anything, but at this moment, he really wanted to test that boy named White. What made you worthy of Albus's trust? Do you know how much he valued this trust? And yet you dare to disregard it?
In addition, he might also be able to use this opportunity to rediscover the passion that once fueled their struggles due to differing ideologies.

Since Albus is no longer paying attention to him, why not use his own methods to force Albus to pay attention to him?
This time, however, Grindelwald will not lose.

He would crush the enemy and then burn that victory to ashes, before saying to Albus, "Have you had enough? Let's put this aside. I've heard that the flower fields of Sanjina are beautiful, and the sky and lake there are as clear as the water. We should go and see it."

Grindelwald picked up the amulet, held it to his chest, and clenched it tightly!

Inside the abandoned castle, the divided soul is practicing dark magic.

After obtaining a wand that he could barely handle, he found a secluded place, set up a dark magic barrier to conceal himself, and began to practice relentlessly.

Nagini hid inside his body, watching him unleash one incredibly powerful black magic spell after another.

Just looking at it made her feel worried and scared.

"Aren't you going to summon the Death Eaters?" Nagini couldn't help but ask.

"Summon Death Eaters? I've been wandering the forests of Albania for so long without a single loyal servant to help me. What use would it be to summon them now?"

The split soul snorted coldly, identifying itself as Voldemort.

"I must first acquire the power to instill fear in everyone, and then at the right time, I will gather them together—only then will they obediently submit to me."

If I were to reveal my weakness now, these wavering individuals would probably secretly denounce me.

The divided soul's face was mocking, but its heart was filled with some annoyance.

Nagini's body, as a great Horcrux, was perfectly suited for practicing dark magic—in just two months, the split soul felt that it had completely regained its former spellcasting level.

But for some reason, he couldn't possess this body for long. The longer he controlled the body and the more intense his activities became, the more uncomfortable he felt from the depths of his soul.

One hour.

He can only control this body to fight at full strength for one hour.

However, this amount of time is far from enough to deal with Dumbledore.

He must find himself a new body. Nagini's words were not without merit; his strength alone was certainly not enough.

He needs to find some helpers for himself.

(End of this chapter)