The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 594-603: The Great Wizarding Revolution 5

Bella was furious.

"Or did it start from the first time you tortured those Muggles with the Cruciatus Curse?" Grindelwald interrupted her, his tone still calm, with a faint, almost pitying mockery.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, you've spent your whole life searching for a master to kneel before. First your father, then the Dark Lord, and now this Voldemort who can't even protect himself, hiding in the shadows, afraid to show his face. You've never lived for yourself, never made any decisions for yourself. You've just kept changing masters, kept kneeling, kept turning yourself into a knife in someone else's hand."

This is a sarcastic remark that directly targets the other party's greatest pain.

Bellatrix's expression changed.

Those eyes widened simultaneously, their pupils flashing a blinding dark red light. Her body trembled slightly, not from fear.

It was anger.

"Shut up!" Bella screamed, unable to accept it. Her voice was sharp and piercing, with an eerie resonance that sounded like countless voices overlapping.

"What do you know?! You know nothing! My master gave me power! My master loves me! I live for my master, and I will die for my master—this is my glory, the meaning of my existence! You old codger who has been locked in the tower for fifty years, what right do you have to judge me?!"

She raised her hand, her wand pointing at Grindelwald. Without a spell, without preparation, a dark red beam of light shot out from the tip of the wand with astonishing speed!

Grindelwald dodged to the side. The beam grazed his shoulder and struck the fireplace behind him. Boom! The fireplace exploded, sending debris flying and flames shooting out. A huge hole was blasted through the wall, revealing the gray sky and the distant church steeple.

Smoke and dust filled the air, gravel tumbled down, and the living room was a complete mess.

Grindelwald stood amidst the smoke and dust, his robes fluttering in the wind, but he was unharmed.

He looked at Bellatrix, a complex light flashing in his heterochromatic eyes.

"His strength has indeed increased considerably."

Grindelwald's tone remained calm.

"But strength alone is not enough."

He was still giving his comments.

Bellatrix sneered and waved her wand repeatedly. Beams of dark red light shot from the tip of her wand, raining down on Grindelwald like a storm! Each beam contained the chaotic properties of deep space; wherever it passed, the air distorted, space trembled, and scorched marks, emitting wisps of smoke, were left on the ground!

Grindelwald moved swiftly through the living room, dodging the deadly attacks. His pace was slow, but each step was perfectly timed: sidestepping a beam of light, ducking to avoid another, leaping over the sofa, and landing just in time to dodge a dark red beam of light shooting from the side.

The beams of light grazed his body, some striking the walls, some the ceiling, and some piercing the floor. The whole house trembled, and rubble and dust fell in a shower.

Bellatrix's attacks grew increasingly frequent and frenzied. Her face was filled with excitement, her eyes blinking in unison, their pupils reflecting Grindelwald's dodging figure.

"Keep hiding! Keep hiding!" she screamed, her voice filled with a morbid, almost manic pleasure. "Let's see how long you can hide!"

Grindelwald stopped and stood in the center of the living room. He no longer tried to hide.

Bellatrix seized the opportunity, pointing her wand forward with a sudden burst of dark red light, thicker and more intense than before, shooting straight at Grindelwald's chest!

Grindelwald raised his hand.

There was no wand, no spell, only an old, wrinkled hand. The beam of light stopped before his palm, as if it had struck an invisible wall. It spun wildly, struggled, and screamed, but could not advance an inch further.

Bellatrix's pupils contracted sharply. All the other eyes widened simultaneously, staring at the scene in disbelief.

"How...how is this possible?!"

Grindelwald looked at her, his heterochromatic eyes still calm. "I told you, strength alone is not enough." With a flick of his finger, the beam of light instantly changed direction, shooting towards Bellatrix at an even faster speed than before!

Bellatrix screamed and fell heavily to the ground. The beam of light grazed past her head, struck the wall behind her, and exploded with a deafening roar! The entire wall was blasted away, and debris and dust rained down like a storm, burying her in the rubble.

At the end of the corridor, Selwyn, Crabbe, and Nott simultaneously shrank back, their faces pale and trembling. They had heard the loud bang, the sound of walls collapsing, the sound of rubble rolling down, and then—dead silence.

"She—she's dead?" Nott's voice trembled.

No one answered him.

In the ruins, the rubble began to move.

One stone was pushed aside, then another, and another. Bellatrix crawled out of the rubble, covered in dust, her hair disheveled, her clothes torn. But on her body, those eyes—those eyes—were still moving, still watching, still flashing a dark red light. A grotesque smile spread across her lips, a smile that looked particularly insane amidst the dust and blood.

"Interesting." Her voice was hoarse and low. "Really interesting."

She stood up and dusted herself off. All those eyes blinked simultaneously, their pupils reflecting Grindelwald's aged, serene face.

"You're definitely not an ordinary person," she said. "No wonder the master values ​​you so much."

Grindelwald looked at her without saying a word.

Bellatrix raised her hand, and all those eyes lit up simultaneously. This time, she didn't use ordinary spells, but began to chant an ancient, obscure incantation—a technique Voldemort had obtained from the echoes of the deep space, specifically used against legendary wizards. The incantation's deep, eerie sound reverberated through the air, creating waves of nauseating resonance.

Grindelwald's brow furrowed slightly.

He could sense the power contained within that spell; it wasn't ordinary dark magic, but an attack from beyond dimensions, specifically targeting the soul and the essence of existence. It wouldn't kill the body, but rather erase existence itself, stripping the target from the tapestry of reality.

"Heart-Piercing Annihilation!"

Bellatrix suddenly pointed forward!

A jet-black, almost tangible beam of light erupted from her palm, heading straight for Grindelwald! Wherever the beam passed, space itself distorted and cracked, leaving a deep, smoking trench in the ground!

Grindelwald's figure vanished from the spot in an instant.

The beam of light struck the empty ground and exploded with a deafening roar! The entire house trembled, a huge crack appeared in the ground, and rubble and dust erupted like a volcanic eruption! Selwyn, Crabbe, and Nott were thrown to the ground by the shockwave, screaming and rolling as they desperately crawled further away.

As the smoke cleared, Grindelwald appeared on the other side of the living room. He stood there, his robes fluttering in the wind, his silver hair falling messily across his forehead, but his eyes remained calm, and his breathing steady.

"Not bad," he said, his tone still calm, with a hint of appreciation. "Unfortunately, it's still a little lacking."

Bellatrix's face turned ashen.

Those eyes widened simultaneously, their pupils filled with disbelief and resentment. She had already used her strongest methods, the power bestowed upon her by her master from deep space, yet she still couldn't harm this old man?

"You One"

She spoke through gritted teeth, her voice filled with anger and resentment.

But I held back.

Grindelwald looked at her, a complex light flashing in his heterochromatic eyes. He knew he could take care of her here—with his legendary strength, killing a newly transformed Bellatrix who hadn't fully adapted to her new powers wouldn't be difficult.

But he didn't move.

Because that wasn't part of the plan.

The plan required Voldemort to continue believing he was severely injured and weakened, to send out more spies, and to reveal more of his trump cards. He couldn't expose his true strength here, couldn't alert the enemy, and couldn't ruin the entire plan due to a momentary impulse.

So he just stood there, looking at Bellatrix, at those eyes, at her face full of eyes.

"Go back," he said, his voice calm and composed. "Tell Voldemort I'm still alive. Tell him that if he wants to kill me, he can do it himself."

Bellatrix stared intently at him, her eyes swirling with anger, resentment, and a barely concealed fear.

"You'll regret this," she hissed, her voice low and hoarse.

Grindelwald smiled slightly. "Perhaps."

Bellatrix took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. The eyes closed and opened simultaneously, the crimson light gradually fading. She turned and walked towards the end of the corridor. Selwyn, Crabbe, and Nott hurriedly followed behind her, their faces pale and trembling, not daring to look back.

Bellatrix reached the doorway and stopped abruptly. Without turning around, her back to Grindelwald, she spoke in a low, icy voice: "The master will come himself. Then, you and that raven—will both be dead."

Grindelwald did not answer.

Bellatrix stepped out of the house. The three Death Eaters followed behind her, their steps hurried, as if fleeing from hell.

The morning mist in the town had not yet dissipated.

Bellatrix stood before the gray stone house, those eyes sweeping over her, looking in different directions. She could feel Grindelwald still inside, still watching her, still gazing at her departing figure with those heterochromatic eyes. That feeling made her extremely uncomfortable, as if an invisible hand were choking her.

"Let's go," she whispered, her voice hoarse and urgent.

She strode out of town. Selwyn, Crabbe, and Nott followed behind her, their steps hurried and their faces pale. No one spoke, no one dared to speak, only the sound of their rapid footsteps echoed on the silent stone path.

The church bells were still ringing, deep and long. The morning mist swirled around them, swallowing their figures only to expel them again. A few barks came from afar, followed by deathly silence.

They left the town and climbed to the top of the hill. Bellatrix stopped, and all eyes turned to the town shrouded in morning mist below. Gray stone houses, church spires, the house whose wall she had blown up halfway. She could feel it—Grindelwald was still there, still in that house, still watching her.

Her fist clenched slightly.

"The master will come in person," she whispered, as if trying to convince herself. "The master will kill him with his own hands."

Selwyn stood behind her, his rugged face filled with the relief of surviving a close call. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it under Bellatrix's watchful gaze.

Crabbe stood silently to the side, his expressionless face blank, but his hands were still trembling slightly, his knuckles white as he gripped the wand.

Nott stood at the very back, his young face a mixture of fear and confusion. He glanced in the direction of the town, then at Bellatrix's retreating figure, and finally lowered his head, remaining silent.

Bellatrix took the mirror out of her bosom, faced it, and said in a low, hoarse voice, "Master."

In the mirror, Voldemort's distorted face appeared. His voice was low and hoarse, tinged with barely suppressed urgency: "How is it?"

Bellatrix paused for a moment, then spoke: "Grindelwald is indeed there. Severely injured and weak, but his strength remains. I used the power you bestowed upon me, and the spells of the deep space, but I could not harm him."

In the mirror, Voldemort's expression remained unchanged. His crimson eyes held only a cold, almost cruel calm.

"Keep an eye on them," he said. "Don't alert them. I'll handle this myself."

The mirror darkened.

Bellatrix put away the mirror, and the eyes blinked simultaneously. She took a deep breath and turned to look at the three Death Eaters.

"You all go back first," she said, "and report back to your master."

Selwyn paused for a moment, then asked, "And what about you?"

Bellatrix's lips curled into a sinister grin. "I'll stay. I'll keep an eye on him."

She offered no explanation, but simply turned and walked down the mountain. Those eyes swept over her, looking in different directions, as if searching for something, or perhaps simply enjoying the omnipresent sensations brought by this new body.

Selwyn watched her figure disappear into the morning mist, remained silent for a few seconds, and then turned to look at Crabbe and Nott.

"Let's go," he said, his voice low and weary.

The three figures disappeared into the morning mist at the same time.

The church bells in the town were still ringing, deep and long.

Inside the gray stone house, Grindelwald stood before the broken fireplace, looking down at the shattered stones.

Scattered ashes, scorch marks emitting wisps of smoke. His expression was calm, but his heterochromatic eyes churned with complex emotions.

He heard footsteps. Very light, very slow, very leisurely.

He didn't turn around.

"Have you seen enough?" His voice was hoarse but calm.

The footsteps stopped behind him.

"I've seen enough." A clear voice, tinged with a hint of amusement, rang out. "Professor Grindelwald, your acting is better than I expected."

Grindelwald turned around and looked at the black-haired boy standing in the center of the living room.

Ian Prince—or rather, twelve-year-old Raven—stood in the ruins, hands in his pockets, tilting his head to look at him. A faint smile played on his youthful face, and his deep eyes gleamed with an all-knowing light that seemed completely out of place for his age.