A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

Chapter 683 Nocturne

Neither Felix nor Professor McGonagall showed up for dinner. They were having a heated discussion in their office, but couldn't reach a decision. Felix's doppelganger magic, which he learned from the Arctic, wasn't without its flaws. He only had one Book of Runes, which was essentially his wand and allowed him to unleash his full combat power.

If Grindelwald insists on making Dumbledore's death public, there is actually very little they can do.

The original plan was based on the premise that Dumbledore would fade from public view, only making occasional appearances to prove he was still alive. The entire wizarding world would gradually adapt to the fact that he had "retired," and even if the wizarding world was forced to go public several years or a decade later, his name could still serve as an important deterrent force.

Indeed, deterrence is all that is needed.

With Felix standing in the spotlight to demonstrate his strength, Dumbledore, who became famous a century earlier, enjoys widespread acclaim, has outstanding achievements, and is recognized as the greatest white wizard, will become an unfathomable figure in the eyes of ordinary people.

No one wants to provoke such an old man and force him to the battlefield.

Moreover, the brilliance of this plan lies in the fact that even if some wizards have doubts, they wouldn't dare to question it, much less openly "curse" Dumbledore's death. They would be overwhelmed by spittle: an old man who has dedicated most of his life to the wizarding world has the right to enjoy life and not concern himself with official duties. Felix could also cooperate by having "Dumbledore" appear in public and say a few words of advice, without affecting the overall situation.

The benefits are numerous, the costs are almost zero, and the only one who suffers harm is Dumbledore himself.

Unfortunately, Grindelwald stepped in.

Felix wouldn't be so arrogant as to think that his skill in Transfiguration was comparable to Dumbledore's. If "Dumbledore" appeared one second and Grindelwald challenged him to a duel the next, their actions would likely be exposed in front of everyone.

In the short term, the only solution Felix could think of was to use the excuse that Dumbledore was injured and fight in his place.

But the ruthlessness of Grindelwald's scheme lies in the fact that even if they solve the immediate predicament, it doesn't mean the problem is completely over, but rather the beginning of a series of troubles—because even the most ingenious lie cannot withstand repeated skeptical gazes.

A magic trick, once seen, can leave a lasting impression and be unforgettable. But if it's performed countless times, even if the flaws aren't immediately apparent, the public will subconsciously accept that it's "fake." The magician's energetic performance will only attract more suspicion and critical scrutiny, causing things to spiral out of control.

"Felix, let's all go back and think it over. We'll discuss it again tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said wearily. "I'll let the students go to bed first." She left, and soon after, the students' unwilling grumbling could be heard. They all wanted to know the truth, but Professor McGonagall firmly stated that it was too late today and everything would be discussed tomorrow.

She turned and exchanged a complicated look with Felix, knowing that this couldn't be kept secret for long and that she had to come up with a convincing explanation. In the corner, Snape stood like a silent plant in the darkness, expressionless. Not far from him stood Sprout and Flitwick, Flitwick's shrill voice stammering something.

Felix was both saddened and annoyed; in this situation, his prized magic was completely powerless.

He couldn't help but think of Dumbledore, wondering how many times in his long life he had truly felt this sense of powerlessness.

The castle gradually quieted down. Felix climbed the spiral staircase and arrived at the corridor where the headmaster's office was located. The stone monster did not stop him, and he pushed open the door to the headmaster's office.

It remains almost exactly the same as it was when he first came here.

He could almost recall every detail of his interview.

The exquisite silverware rustled comically on the long-legged desk, puffing out wisps of white smoke in the darkness; behind the elegant brown headmaster's chair lay Dumbledore's private library; the Sorting Hat lay quietly on the partition; the Pensieve was hidden behind a black cabinet door; the Gryffindor sword was in a clear glass case; the golden perch behind the door was empty, where the phoenix had once stood.

A new gold frame has been added to the portrait of the headmaster on the wall, and Dumbledore is sleeping peacefully and serenely.

Felix stared at the portrait of Dumbledore.

"He still needs some time to regain his senses," a dark-haired, short-bangs, yellow-faced wizard whispered on the wall. "So that we can remain connected to the entire castle and endure."

Felix nodded to him, then silently turned and left the principal's office.

He suddenly thought of Room 7, where there was a seventeen-year-old Dumbledore. He walked through the long corridor and suddenly stopped. His thought chamber was released in an instant, but it was blocked, as if there was an invisible barrier in front of him.

Felix didn't see the person's face, and in fact, he didn't need to; there was only one person in the world capable of doing so.

"Grindelwald," he said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you, and I never expected you to appear at this crucial moment. Aren't those saints afraid you'll get stuck here?"

A figure draped in a black coat slowly emerged from the shadows, a white rose pinned to his chest.

“They’re not children; they won’t have pointless worries. And weren’t you waiting for me? So here I am,” Grindelwald said expressionlessly, gazing out the window at the Forbidden Forest, where the moonlight was bright and clear. “It’s only been a few days, and you’ve already changed the protective magic outside the school—it must be Flitwick’s doing. Were you guarding against me? Too bad it didn’t work.”

"I don't need to explain, you should be able to figure out the deeper meaning, which is that you are no longer welcome here," Felix said.

"That's making me a little sad—aside from that cold, damp room, this is the place I've spent the most time in. I can't even get a house on Privet Road, even though I've been paying rent for years... Where are you taking me?" Grindelwald asked suddenly with great interest.

As the two spoke, the surrounding walls blurred, as if shrouded in mist, and the scenery began to overlap, making them feel as if they were both in Hogwarts Castle and in a completely different place. The howling of the night wind and the mournful cawing of crows filled their ears.

“A cemetery, spacious enough,” Felix said casually, “to facilitate business.”

Grindelwald clicked his tongue. "Talk business? After that, you want to fight? I didn't come here to fight." He tapped the withered hand lightly with his wand, and the castle came into focus again. Their gazes fell on the windowsill in the corridor, where a branch had silently appeared as if it had materialized out of thin air, and a line of ants crawled up the branch to the cold wall.

"If you prefer, it's the same here—I thought you would come to me first," Felix said.

His heart sank. Grindelwald was no weakling, and he couldn't probe any further. The school was not a place for all-out combat, and the two were so close, yet the talisman on his wrist showed no reaction whatsoever.

"Oh, I did think that way," Grindelwald said with a smile, stroking his chin. "But then I changed my mind. Although I look down on Babajid Akinbad, at least on the surface, he's the one at the top of the wizarding order."

"You value his status?" Felix asked shrewdly. "So you're using him to achieve your goals?"

Grindelwald's eyes gleamed.

"Of course I could stand up for him publicly, but why bother? His words are far more persuasive than mine, and no magical newspaper would refuse to publish his statement. All I have to do is tell the truth—you know, Felix Arkinbard is an orphan from the last Wizarding War. He has every reason to hate me, but the fact is he compromised and agreed to negotiate with me for a false peace. I only found out recently."

"That sounds a bit ridiculous, so you lied to him?" Felix was surprised. Would Babajid really believe his nonsense so easily?

Grindelwald shook his head slightly and laughed maliciously. Felix waited for him to stop, and Grindelwald sighed:

"Do you think I can only persuade people by deception? I offered him an offer he couldn't refuse, a temptation so great that he lost the ability to think rationally—I didn't need to waste any more words; he convinced himself to act according to my ideas."

"I'm very curious about this. Could you give me a hint? Maybe I'll have a chance to use it too," Felix said casually.

Grindelwald looked him over for a moment, then grinned and silently mouthed a shape.

Felix's eyes widened.

"An unbreakable oath?" he exclaimed, utterly shocked. His gaze instinctively drifted to Grindelwald's wrist, pausing slightly when he saw the charred remains on his left hand, before shifting to the hand holding the wand.

“Of course it’s not signed yet,” Grindelwald gave him a strange look. “His statement today is a prerequisite for taking the oath, but—well, I’ll go find him after I finish talking to you, and maybe I’ll run into your little girl minister. With a whole bunch of ministers and representatives as witnesses—I believe Arkinbard will do that—the oath will be incredibly binding.”

Felix pursed his lips and swallowed.

"Oh, I understand," Grindelwald said slowly. "People like us aren't used to leaving our fate in the hands of others, but that makes us more convincing, don't you think? For example, if I told you now, could you stop all of this?"

"What oath are you going to take?" Felix asked with some difficulty.

"Probably because we can't kill people indiscriminately, and we can't start wizard wars," Grindelwald said vaguely, appearing nonchalant as if he didn't care about the matter.

Felix raised his eyebrows.

"Have you found a way to break the 'unbreakable oath'?"

"..." Grindelwald paused for a moment, then asked curiously, "Why do you think that?"

Felix also fell silent.

Is this line of thinking incorrect?

Was Grindelwald really going to swear an oath? Had he lost his mind? A thought flashed through Felix's mind, and he tentatively reminded him, "You want Dumbledore to have a funeral worthy of him?"

Grindelwald immediately sniffed as if he had smelled rotten flesh, his face showing disgust.

"You reminded me," he said harshly, a smile hidden in the shadows. "Where did you bury him? There are some things I can only say to his tombstone. Don't tell me he went into hiding, hiding away, afraid to face anyone. I know everything—but it's good that he's alive. I'd love to see his regretful expression."

A moment of silence. Felix raised his left hand, and the emerald ring on his hand lit up, from which letters flew out and fluttered in front of him.

Grindelwald's expression froze.

"What is this?" he asked cautiously. Felix seemed to be able to sense the heartbeat on the other end, but Grindelwald's eyes were like a bottomless well, devoid of any emotion.

"If you were still in Nurmengard, you would receive one of these letters every two or three months, and that would continue for about twenty years. But you don't need them now." Felix said, sending the letters flying towards Grindelwald like dove feathers. Grindelwald reached out, and the letters were instantly snatched away.

Another silence fell. Felix suddenly asked, "By the way, if I go to classroom number seven now, will I see someone—"

"Enough!" Grindelwald snapped, his nails digging into his flesh, but he immediately regained his composure, as if his momentary lapse in composure had never happened. "Felix, something's missing in you, that's why you can't stop me. I can teach you a trick," he said coldly, "you have to burn yourself."

Grindelwald disappeared.

Felix fell into deep thought, walked heavily back to his office, and looked up to see a huge dark figure leaning against the doorway.

"Hagrid? What are you doing here?"

Hagrid was startled awake. His face was wet with tears, his eyes were red, and he was unconsciously clutching a dirty handkerchief in his hand.

"I...I've been waiting for you, Felix," Hagrid said, somewhat bewildered. Then his eyes widened with fear, and his voice choked as he said, "I saw it in the newspaper...Dumbledore...telling me it's not true."

Felix hesitated. How should he answer? Should he repeat the lie? The truth could no longer be hidden when Akinbad and Grindelwald were bound together by an unbreakable oath.

He stood on tiptoe and patted Hagrid on the shoulder.

Hagrid's expression froze, then he suddenly let out a beastly howl, tears streaming down his face and soaking into his bushy beard. He lunged at Felix and embraced him, who groaned and cast a humanoid armor spell on himself, the spell teetering on the edge; he then cast a silencing spell to prevent Hagrid from waking everyone in the castle.

After Hagrid cried himself to sleep, Felix was as if he'd been pulled from the water. He took Hagrid to his office and let him sleep on the sofa. The next morning, Warren and Felix, who hadn't slept a wink all night because of the deafening snoring, left the office and went to Professor McGonagall to tell her what had happened the night before.

Professor McGonagall looked shocked upon hearing this.

But not long after, Ms. Burns sent word: it was all true. Just last night, hundreds of Aurors were on high alert, and the Ministers of Magic from more than ten countries were present to witness Arkinbard and Grindelwald signing the pact.

The following morning, Professor McGonagall sadly (but also with a sigh of relief) announced the passing of Dumbledore to all the faculty and students.

The students were shocked and deeply saddened. Professor McGonagall hastily announced Headmaster Dumbledore's last wishes, and then hardened her heart to prepare for Dumbledore's funeral. Since it was no longer a secret, she hoped to allow the students to attend the funeral before the students went on holiday to express their condolences for Dumbledore.

Hogsmeade was filled with wizards from all over the world in the blink of an eye. What they heard was the news that Arkinbad had announced earlier, and they had set off to bid a final farewell to Dumbledore's remains before that.

That night, torrential rain poured down, accompanied by lightning and thunder.

Everyone felt a heavy weight in their hearts, as if dampened by the rain. The next day, the sky cleared, and the gates of Hogwarts opened wide, as wizards and witches from all over poured into the school. Felix's gaze swept through the crowd; he was looking for someone, someone he knew Grindelwald would definitely appear.

All of Grindelwald's plans will be revealed today.

(End of this chapter)