Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world

Chapter 151 The Notebook and Dumbledore at 111 Years Old
As thick fog blanketed London and Greyback's squads were being captured one by one, the city's unusual behavior also drew the attention of others.

In Wiltshire, the moonlight shines through the trees, casting large, strangely shaped, eerie shadows on the cool, breezy grass in the quiet night.

Branches swayed, grass heads bowed, and the wrought iron gate at the entrance of the manor swayed gently, the words "Malfoy Manor" at the top swaying along with it.

From afar, the wind whistled through the crisscrossing hedges behind the wrought-iron gate, carrying with it a sound that echoed under the night sky—a furious roar of exasperation:

"...those filthy scum, rats in the gutter, despicable scoundrels who change their tune with the wind..."

Deep within the manor, on the first floor of the castle, dim yellow light spilled from the open windows. Dobby emerged from the air, a tray floating beside him filled with snacks to accompany his drinks.

"...When I took office, I should have swept all those traitors and villains off the stage!"

Hearing the shouts and curses from the hall, Dobby flinched in fear, but his ingrained obedience to his master, rooted in his bones for millennia, allowed him to overcome his fear and gently knock on the door.

"Who?"

A voice asked.

"It's Dobby, my master. The lady instructed me to bring some snacks."

"come in!"

Upon receiving a response, Dobby quickly lowered his head and gently pushed open the door.

The hall was spacious, with a tall and deep dome, like a giant's palace. The furnishings were also quite simple, with only a few windows and some decorative curtains, a huge table, and a fireplace at the end of the table.

Two people were standing by the fireplace.

One of them was tall and slender, with long platinum blonde hair combed up and cascading down her back. Her velvet robe shimmered with a smooth texture even in the darkness, and she wore an exquisite, gleaming cane, making her look elegant and dignified.

Dobby bowed deeply to the man, who was his master and the head of the Malfoy family, Lucius Malfoy.

"Put your stuff down!"

Lucius Malfoy said the elf wearing a tattered rag looked terrible, and he didn't even want to see him.

As Dobby waved his hands, the snack plate floated slowly to the two of them. Lucius picked up a piece of fried pork rind and gestured for the other person standing next to him to eat it: "Try it, Connelly. Narcissa rarely cooks... What's the situation in London right now?"

"What else could it be? A bunch of damned Aurors openly defied my orders to help that damned redhead. Guess what their excuse was? 'Seeing injustice and doing what's right!'"

It would have been better if he hadn't said anything, because once he did, Fudge was so angry that his chin twitched twice.

He grabbed a fried egg from the plate and shoved it into his mouth. The filling, grease, and yolk spilled out as he chewed.

Fudge gulped down a mouthful of sherry, and the golden oil and egg yolk instantly melted together.

The color and shape were truly indescribable.

Lucius suddenly felt a little nauseous and silently spat out the fried pork rind he had chewed a couple of times. He thought for a moment and said slowly, "Weasley is capturing those filthy beasts under Greyback's command. Wisengamor approved his actions, and procedurally, there seems to be nothing wrong with it."

"Do you really think so?" Fudge's eyes widened. "If the WAC can operate independently of the Ministry of Magic, then what's the point of having the Ministry? Today they can capture werewolves under the authorization of Wizengamor, so tomorrow can they go and wipe out dark wizards?"

Lucius responded to his questioning with nonchalance, even a hint of disdain.

He found out about it.

Those beasts under Graybury's command were brought in by the esteemed Mr. Fudge. The reason, even if not stated, is clear to everyone: dear Mr. Fudge wanted to sabotage the WAC conference.

Unexpectedly, things took an unexpected turn. Vaughn Weasley, who seemed to be all alone, suddenly received help from many wizarding families.

Thinking about it, Lucius's expression became slightly more serious.

While Fudge was undoubtedly a fool, a certain trend revealed in this incident forced Lucius to take it seriously. He asked, "Which families were involved in this operation?"

"The Travers branch, those fence-sitters have gone mad for some reason, they don't even bother to hide it, that old guy Alred has long since openly declared his support for Vaughn Weasley."

Fudge said indignantly, "According to my informant, besides Travers, there should be two or three other families involved, but unfortunately they haven't made a public appearance... However, there are only a few pure-blood families in the wizarding world that are still active and are not included in the 28 Holy Clans, and they are most likely the ones involved."

Do you have any evidence?

Fudge was speechless. If he had evidence, he wouldn't have come to the Malfoys' house today.

Lucius, knowing the reason behind it, asked, "What are you planning to do next?"

"I need support, Lucius!"

Fudge said seriously, "Look at them, Weasley and his little gang, and that insidious Dumbledore. They are increasingly blatantly challenging the order of the wizarding world, challenging the International Law of Secrecy, and even challenging the status of pure-blood families."

"Why do you think those wizarding families were willing to support the Weasleys and Dumbledore? Because they saw the possibility of overthrowing the current ruling class and the hope of rising to power themselves."

"Just like decades ago, when those despicable bastards tried to support Grindelwald—"

Fudge's words became increasingly exaggerated.

But Lucius did not refute it, because he knew very well that this possibility did exist and was very likely to become a reality.

This is also the main reason why, in the past period, pure-blood families have funded some "gunmen" to oppose WAC in newspapers and in the media, and to verbally attack WAC.

He listened noncommittally until Fudge finished his accusations, then asked, "What kind of support do you need?"

"I need the pure-blood families to provide me with the greatest political support in every possible direction, including manpower, finance, personnel, and so on."

You're thinking about ass!
Looking at the guy in front of him, holding a wine glass and sporting a big belly, Lucius really wanted to crack open that thick skull to see what was inside.

He chuckled a few times, then said with a reserved yet firm tone, "Don't joke around, Connelly, you know that's impossible."

“Short-sighted!”

Seemingly enraged by his refusal, Fudge roared, "The power in my hands is slipping out of control, Lucius, do you understand? Yes, I brought Graybury here, you all should already know that, right? But why don't you think about how Vaughn Weasley's men accurately located those beasts?"

"Not only are the Aurors out of control, but even the 'Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters' has been infiltrated by those bastards. They've taken control of the magical event monitoring system!"

"And I also have some bad news for you. Arthur Weasley, yes, the father of that damned Vaughn Weasley, in the name of the Director of the Office for the Prohibition of the Abuse of Muggle Items, has joined forces with his superiors to launch a thorough investigation into the illegal possession of Muggle and magical items in the wizarding world..."

Fudge sneered, glancing around the solemn halls of Malfoy Castle: "Once the bill passes, do you think your family will be targeted?"

……

boom--

The enormous table was magically thrown away, crashing heavily against the wall and shattering.

Dobby cowered in the corner in fear.

He rarely saw his master lose his temper like this. Usually, his master always maintained his pure-blooded, sacred 28th race composure and dignity, meticulousness, peace and elegance.

But ever since that chubby wizard said something and left not long ago, the master has suddenly lost his composure.

Dobby tried to curl up as much as possible to avoid drawing attention to himself.

An angry owner needs to vent his anger, but simply smashing tables and chairs won't do the trick. And Dobby, who is alive, inevitably becomes a tool for venting.

Although his master was rarely angry, the few times he was angry were enough to leave a deep impression on him.

Unfortunately, despite his efforts to minimize his presence, Dobby was eventually spotted by Lucius.

He pulled his wand from his staff, and lightning bolts shot from its tip, striking Dobby hard.

Dobby cried out loudly and banged his head against the ground desperately. The enslavement contract, almost implanted in his soul, distorted his thinking, and he subconsciously believed that being beaten meant that he had done something wrong.

"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! You naughty little sprite who makes your master angry!"

He violently harmed himself; the little elf had no concept of begging for mercy.

Blood seeped from his forehead, but more wounds were on his body. Lucius tightened his jaw and lashed him several more times.

Narcissa arrived after hearing the commotion.

The beautiful witch from the Black family frowned, snatched her husband's wand, and said gently to Dobby, "Go down, Dobby. It's not your fault. Go to the apothecary and get some potions to heal your wounds."

"Yes, esteemed mistress."

Dobby was moved to tears.

He limped out of the hall, and from afar he could hear the gentle hostess questioning her master: "What are you doing, Lucius?"

“I’m sorry, Narcissa… one thing after another is just awful… Fudge is trying to get us to fight against Vaughn Weasley and Dumbledore, it’s terrible, we’re caught in the middle… Arthur’s Act is trying to weaken us, and Fudge is threatening me too, saying he’ll let Arthur’s Act go ahead if we don’t take sides…”

The sound faded into the distance and could no longer be heard.

Dobby dared not linger; the pain in his body reminded him to be a good little elf. He sobbed as he went to the pharmacy on the second floor, found some white peony root, and prepared to take it to the kitchen to process it a little and brew a bowl of medicine.

Then, as he left the pharmacy, he encountered his young master, Draco Malfoy.

He was hiding at the corner of the stairs, eavesdropping on his parents' conversation below.

The two bumped into each other, stared at each other in disbelief, and then Dobby instinctively knelt down, wanting to continue banging his head against the floor: "You bad Dobby, you caught your little master eavesdropping..."

"Shh-"

Draco quickly ran over and covered Dobby's mouth, threatening in a low voice, "Don't make a sound, or I'll... wait, did Daddy hit you?"

He noticed the scorched wounds on Dobby's body, and he also noticed Bai Xian.

Draco suddenly didn't know what to say.

A person and a little elf sat blankly at the corner of the stairs. Below, the voices coming from the hall were intermittent:
“He’s the Minister for Magic. If he wants to isolate us…”

"...Does this mean we have to choose sides? Lucius, Vaughn Weasley is only 12, what about Fudge?"

"But WAC... secrecy law..."

Through his parents' intermittent conversations, Draco gradually understood why his father angrily hit Dobby and why they were arguing.

But the contents were far beyond his comprehension. He didn't understand why his father was afraid or anxious, only that it seemed to be because of a batch of magical items in the family's collection.

Especially one of them.

“You’re right, Narcissa, siding with Fudge wasn’t a wise choice… Looks like I’ll have to give it away…”

"Where should I send it? Don't forget, that's...that's what he gave you, he told you to keep it safe..."

"Damn it! Damn it... No, maybe he's already dead! Yes, he was killed by Harry Potter a long time ago... Eleven years have passed without a trace..."

Draco "coerced" Dobby into eavesdropping on the faint, intermittent conversation, but the parents' voices grew softer and softer, and all he could tell was that they were discussing what to send away.

Until one moment, Draco heard his father's voice and suddenly became excited:

"Oh, right, we can give it to Harry Potter!"

What? For Scarface?

Draco was taken aback. He leaned out and saw his mother and father arguing quietly for a moment in the flickering candlelight of the hall. Draco seemed to be finally persuaded by his father, and then they waved their wands, and something flew down from upstairs to them.

Draco saw that it was a notebook!

As a young wizard, he naturally had no idea what it was, but Dobby, who was craning his neck just like him, stared wide-eyed.

In his field of vision, he saw thick black mist rising from the laptop.

A powerful, malevolent shadow loomed in the black mist.

"Oh my god..."

……

In London, in front of the WAC headquarters, Vaughn, dressed in a bright purple-red robe, looked at the fog-filled night sky.

Amelia Borns stood beside him.

"Powerful magic, exquisite mist spell."

"Thank you for the compliment!"

"Judging by the time," Amelia said, "the capture team should have finished by now. How do you think Fudge will handle this failure?"

Vaughn shrugged: "He doesn't have many options, and this incident will remind him that he can't fight us on his own, so he will definitely resort to any means to unite with the pure-blood families."

"So you had Arthur propose a bill to weaken the pure-blood families?"

To be honest, Amelia didn't quite understand Vaughn's behavior.

In her view, while the WAC's position was indeed opposed to the interests of pure-blood families, the two were not mutually exclusive.

Mature politics should not actively push potential opponents to the enemy's side, but rather keep the adversaries in a state of disarray and defeat them one by one!

In her view, Vaughn's arrangement for Arthur to propose an investigation into Muggle and magical items would only force the pure-blood families to align themselves with Fudge. Vaughn, of course, understood her thinking.

In fact, even though Amelia supported Arthur's proposal at the Ministry of Magic out of principle and stance, she had privately expressed her dissent on more than one occasion.

Vaughn hadn't responded before, but now he could speak. He smiled slightly and said, "That's where we're different. Sometimes I do something not just for political purposes."

"Like this time, on the surface, I arranged for my father to make a proposal, which seemed to be to stir up trouble and weaken the pure-blood families. In reality, I just wanted to make a certain family lose its composure and make them give away a certain item in their collection."

Amelia was taken aback, then somewhat curious: "What is it?"

"A notebook!"

notebook?
Amelia was somewhat puzzled. She didn't think it was just a simple notebook that would warrant such a strong reaction from Vaughn. The so-called "notebook" must be kept in a pure-blood family that hadn't yet declined.

As for pure-blood families... given their profit-driven nature, even if it were just a diary, it would probably contain immense value.

Unfortunately, Vaughn only revealed this much and refused to say anything more.

And indeed, we can't say anything more.

The secret of the Horcruxes is currently known only to Vaughn and Dumbledore, and for them, strictly concealing their existence is the best option to maximize their interests.

Dumbledore hopes to collect all the Horcruxes and, at the right moment, destroy Voldemort in one fell swoop.

Vaughn, on the other hand, hoped to sell the Horcrux information he possessed to Dumbledore for "profit".

Of course, his ultimate goal was also to eliminate Voldemort.

In fact, from the moment he came into this world, Vaughn had always regarded Voldemort as one of the biggest obstacles to his ultimate goal.

It is very difficult to change a person's personality.

Decades ago, when Tom Riddle, enraged by the fact that he had Muggle blood, slaughtered his father's entire family, his brutal, chaotic, and irrational nature was already set in stone.

In Vaughn's view, anyone in the magical world has the potential to become his companion and accompany him on his magical journey.

This includes those dark wizards, and even Fenrir Greyback.

Voldemort, however, is utterly worthless to win over!

Because that Socket Man was anti-establishment at heart. "Pure-blood restoration" and "expelling half-bloods and Mudbloods" were just excuses he made up. He wanted to rule the wizarding world, not to bring a new order to it like Gettler Grindelwald did.

He just wanted to use killing and terror to put himself above everyone else and become the master of all things!

Looking at Voldemort's actions after his "future" resurrection, he clearly never considered how to rebuild the magical world after destroying its order. Apart from slaughter, he had no core ideology or guiding principles of his own.

That kind of "future" is too terrible.

So Vaughn had been thinking about how to deal with Voldemort for a long time. Horcruxes, as the Dark Lord's only weakness, were something he naturally wouldn't forget to pay attention to.

It's just that Vaughn hadn't started collecting them before for various reasons.

The reasons are complex.

This was partly because some Horcruxes were not easy to obtain, and partly because Vaughn did not want to appear too unconventional in this regard and attract Dumbledore's attention.

That old man...

"Hey honey, I think I heard you guys talking about laptops?"

An aged voice suddenly came from behind.

The two turned around, and behind them, the thick fog parted to create a path, revealing Dumbledore, dressed in a magnificent robe and dragging his long beard, walking towards them.

He looked tired, but still had a cheerful smile on his face.

Amelia gave a slight bow: "It's been a long time, Dumbledore."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Amelia, I've been busy with some trivial matters lately. I appreciate your help." After offering a half-hearted apology, Dumbledore turned to Vaughn and asked with a smile, "Child, what notebook are you looking for?"

Vaughn didn't know when he arrived, but he wasn't flustered. He rolled his eyes at him and said, "If you want to know, bring something in exchange!"

"...Looks like it's what I was thinking about?"

"uh-huh!"

"Can't you reveal even a little bit? The thing you exchanged with me last time was something I spent so many days finding myself. Isn't this kind of transaction a bit unfair?"

"hehe!"

Vaughn responded with a laugh.

The essence of intelligence trading is information asymmetry; only a fool would talk about fairness!

He changed the subject and asked, "You found it?"

Knowing that Vaughn was unwilling to say more, Dumbledore didn't press the matter and nodded: "Yes, it's hidden in the old house."

Before he could finish speaking, he saw Vaughn glance at his hand.

Old Deng's chrysanthemum-like face blossomed into a meaningful yet joyful smile: "Don't worry, my dear. It's also thanks to your reminder that I was able to restrain my greed and not be tempted by the things embedded in it... He actually placed such a vicious curse on the ancestral ring. Fortunately, you warned me!"

Vaughn, sensing his subtext, calmly retorted, "What a pity, I was waiting for you to be cursed to death!"

"So cruel?"

"Is it cruel? I think it's great, that way no one will keep testing me."

An old man and a young man were bickering, while Amelia looked on in confusion. She understood every single word of their conversation, but when put together, it was all a mystery.

She rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on, and had to interrupt the two of them: "Gentlemen, how long are you planning to keep arguing? Especially you, Dumbledore, are you planning to wait for the teams to return and then put on a show for everyone, showing how a 111-year-old, highly respected wizard like yourself can argue with a 12-year-old boy?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard with a grin, utterly shameless: "It's fun, Amelia."

"whispering sound!"

Vaughn gave him a disdainful look, but stopped being sarcastic and changed the subject, asking, "111 years old... your birthday has already passed?"

"Yes, it just happened a couple of days ago (Dumbledore was born in July 1881, but the exact date is not specified, so it is left ambiguous here)."

Why didn't you say anything?

"Sigh, I'm over a hundred years old, and I don't want to celebrate my birthday anymore. Every birthday reminds me that I'm getting a year older, which makes me very sad."

"At least I'll give you a birthday present. I really liked the gift you gave me for my birthday, and I was thinking of giving you one back!"

Dumbledore laughed heartily: "It's alright, my dear, that ring is the best gift."

Amelia gave the two of them a strange look.

She never understood the logic behind the relationship between Vaughn and Dumbledore. They could be bickering and undermining each other one moment, and then be all lovey-dovey the next, like two old friends supporting each other.

Perhaps this is the mutual appreciation between geniuses?
Just then, a noise came from the sky.

Four flying brooms descended from the sky, trailing strong winds. The thick fog automatically parted around them, guiding them to the three people.

It was Lupin, Mundungus, and two wizards wearing cloaks and hoods, whose faces were obscured.

As he approached with a briefcase, Mundungus, who was smiling obsequiously and about to say something, noticed Dumbledore standing next to Vaughn.

The short, chubby thief stammered, "Dumbledore...?"

Old Deng smiled and nodded at him: "It's me, young Monton. Have you been recruited by Vaughn too? It's great to see you again after 10 years."

Mundungus was a little flustered.

Eleven years after Voldemort's defeat and death, he stayed for less than a year before quickly leaving the Order of the Phoenix once all the Death Eaters had been put on trial.

He didn't even say goodbye to Lao Deng before leaving.

It's not that I don't want to, it's that I don't dare!

As Deng Xiaoping's personal chamber pot, Mundungus knew better than anyone the significance of the nickname "White Devil".

Fortunately, the other party still had some sense of shame. They probably saw him run away without saying a word, and knew his fear and pursuit. In addition, he deliberately avoided him, so he has not been punished or anything like that over the years.

But now that we've suddenly met, I'm still a little scared.

What if Old Deng suddenly loses his temper and strangles him with a finger?

Mundungus felt that he was probably no stronger than an ant in front of Dumbledore. Beads of sweat seeped from his forehead, and he felt his legs trembling.

To his relief, his thighs hadn't abandoned him!

"Are all the werewolves you captured in the suitcase?" Vaughn asked. "Did you catch Fenrir Greyback?"

Seeing that the thigh was asking a question, Mundungus quickly moved closer to Vaughn, barely managing to ignore Dumbledore's sinister smile, and replied obsequiously, "I'm sorry, sir, it seems that Greyback did not participate in this operation, but we captured several werewolves who had been in close contact with him. Perhaps we can dig out the whereabouts of that beast from their memories."

Vaughn was a little disappointed.

Greyback is the oldest living werewolf in England, known as the King of Werewolves, and his body must contain a very rich collection of specimens.

However, Vaughn also knew that given Graybury's cautious nature and decades of experience in maintaining his position, catching him would not be an easy task.

So he waved his hand: "If we didn't catch them, so be it... Remus, you and Mundon go and lock up these werewolves. You can interrogate them about Greyback's whereabouts, but be careful not to kill them. I'll need them for my experiments later."

Lupin didn't speak, but silently led the overjoyed Mundungus into the WAC headquarters building.

Over the past two months, this office building, which was transferred from Wissengamo, has been completely renovated and now incorporates various functions.

This naturally includes a detention area, which is mainly for dealing with werewolves who have made mistakes, as well as unregistered werewolves!

After Lupin and Mundungus left, the other two hooded wizards approached and bowed to Dumbledore, Amelia, and Vaughn:

"We have fulfilled our promise. Do the three of you have any other instructions?"

Neither Amelia nor Dumbledore spoke.

The stage belongs to Vaughn.

He smiled and thanked them, saying, "Thank you for your hard work. Although it's a bit of a pity that we didn't capture Greyback, that has nothing to do with you. However, this operation has exposed your infiltration capabilities within the 'Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters.' Fudge may target you later. Please tell the heads of the families to be extremely careful."

A hooded wizard chuckled softly:
"Thank you, but please rest assured, Fudge wouldn't dare to act rashly. The Ministry of Magic belongs to all wizards and families, and stability is paramount... at least until the international delegation leaves England, he wouldn't dare to make any moves!"

Another said, "Your messenger, Phil of the Travers, has gone to greet the delegation. We won't disturb you any longer. Welcome to visit the family again. Goodbye, Mr. Weasley!"

"Okay, bye!"

After saying goodbye, the two hooded wizards rode brooms and soared into the sky.

Watching their figures disappear quickly into the thick fog, Vaughn asked Dumbledore, "Do you think they are capable of withstanding the pressure Fudge brings?"

Old Deng shook his head slightly: "It's hard to say."

“There is some truth to what you’re saying,” Amelia said. “Fudge’s rise to power was illegitimate, and the balance was maintained by the conflict between the pure-blood families and the major wizarding families. Others understand this. He may be very angry this time, but he probably won’t directly attack us.”

“I think he will use this vulnerability to build his ‘weak’ persona and win over some pure-blood families… Besides, you’ve already handed him the knife. If nothing unexpected happens, the bill Arthur submitted should be passed by him soon. Only by making the threat against pure-bloods a reality can we force those guys to make a decision.”

Amelia still harbors resentment towards Vaughn's decision.

Vaughn smiled, casually offering a reassuring remark to the witch, without elaborating further. Some things couldn't be explained simply by words. He changed the subject, asking Dumbledore:

"Is there anything we should be aware of regarding the delegation from the International Federation of Wizards?"

Although Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was "extremely busy" and had almost no energy to go to work at the International Wizarding Federation.

But he was, after all, the president of the federation, the leader of the world's number one violent organization.

When asked by Vaughn, the leader scratched his face: "Hmm... doesn't seem like anything worth noting... Ah! Babajid Akinbad, the head of the delegation this time, we need to be careful of him."

"Oh why?"

Vaughn knew of this person, but only some basic information. He was said to be from Uganda, graduated from the mysterious Vagado school even in the wizarding world, and was a rising political star in the international wizarding community in recent years.

"Well..." Old Deng thought for a moment, then uttered a single word: "Ambition!"

“He is a very ambitious young wizard. I mean, he is not yet 80 years old, in the prime of his life, and always eager to make a name for himself.”

As he spoke, Dumbledore shrugged: “When a person is eager to accomplish something, his methods will inevitably appear impetuous and radical. In terms of specific senses, he is very aggressive. If you don’t want to cause trouble, my advice is to be gentler when dealing with him, and to give way when necessary.”

"...Is his status higher than yours?"

“Oh, of course he’s not as tall as me. He’s just one of the vice presidents.” Dumbledore blinked.

(End of this chapter)