In the Apocalypse, I Can Enter Hogwarts

Chapter 424 Grindelwald and Dumbledore

London in December.

The sky was dark and gloomy, covered with thick clouds.

Snowflakes were falling in the morning, and although they gradually stopped in the afternoon, the clouds did not disperse; instead, they appeared even thicker.

The sky overhead was like a cotton candy stained with ink, dark and gloomy, as if rain or snow could fall from the thick clouds at any moment.

Beyond the reach of sight, the distant, chilly gray-white light of the sky exuded an ominous aura.

The werewolves, the survivors hidden in the Oxford neighborhood, seemed to have received some kind of message as they slowly emerged from the dilapidated buildings.

As the saying goes, "The face reflects the heart." Although most of them were ordinary civilians six months ago, the indulgence of their inner desires in these six months has made each of them look somewhat ferocious and distorted.

The saying "when there are tens of thousands of people, there is no end" is absolutely true. When 20,000 werewolves gathered together, the 1.25-mile-long Oxford Street was densely packed with people.

When these werewolves gathered together, an invisible aura of malevolence filled the space, even affecting many Muggles watching on television screens and scattered wizards not far away, regardless of the distance.

"There are so many people..." Neil McMillan said, his face pale, from the high-rise building in the distance. His legs began to shake uncontrollably, and cold sweat involuntarily broke out on his forehead.

His childhood fear of werewolves resurfaced, and he now genuinely regretted joining in the fun.

His companion, Chad Parkinson, also offered his insightful advice with lingering fear: "If the timing isn't right, we'll retreat immediately."

Of course, most of the wizards hiding in the shadows shared the same view as these two pure-blood wizards.

Actually, it's not their fault. As a minority group of wizards, when have they ever seen such a scene?

Take the Aurors for example, five people make up a full squad. Even 10 years ago when dealing with Death Eaters, they rarely deployed more than fifty people.

This shows that it's not that they lack experience, but rather that their understanding is limited by their environment and limited perspective.

On the other side, high-rise buildings not far from Oxford Street have now been occupied by all sorts of strangely dressed wizards.

They were renowned wizarding journalists from across Britain and even the world, gathered here for no other reason than to obtain firsthand information.

In fact, whether they are wizards, ordinary Muggles, or werewolves from other parts of the world, they can easily draw the following conclusion:

What is about to happen today is of paramount importance. It will determine the hierarchy of wizards, Muggles, and werewolves for the next few decades or even centuries. In short, it's about flexing muscles and determining seniority.

"I am currently in Westminster, London, and from here I can clearly see the werewolves thronging Oxford Street, those ruthless scum... It is estimated that at its peak, this area housed over 30,000 people..."

Rita Skeeter, a top reporter for the Daily Prophet, dressed in a smart business suit, is currently giving a detailed presentation to a camera.

The photographer opposite him was also a journalism graduate, making them a true match in their field.

Their pairing wasn't unusual, as many reporters around them were doing the same. It marked the first perfect fusion of magic and technology, as well as the first collaboration between the national magic ministries and Muggle officials.

It's fortunate that Westminster, London, is not a wizarding community; otherwise, it's questionable whether these electronic devices would even function properly.

Eco-cities in the Scottish Highlands.

The Grangers sat on their large sofa, their hands clasped tightly together. In a typical residential area on the other side of the city, Harry's Uncle Vernon watched television, grumbling and spewing familiar profanities.

Meanwhile, in the Devon countryside, in a crooked house, the Weasley family sat in the living room, listening quietly to the news broadcast over an old radio.

But the quiet atmosphere is often meant to be broken. Suddenly, a clattering sound came from upstairs, and it was obvious that it was the ever-lively George and Fred.

"Enough! You two!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, her voice trembling with frustration. She then glanced at Ginny, Harry, and Ron beside her.

"I'm telling you, no one is allowed to leave this humble abode today, unless you bring me down..."

Seemingly to increase realism, Mrs. Weasley pulled her wand from her pocket and slammed it hard on the table.

This sudden action startled Harry, and he suddenly felt that his uncle, Nonnon's, ferocious fat face had become kind and amiable compared to Mrs. Weasley.

The perceptive Ginny noticed Harry's unusual behavior, her eyes flickered for a moment, and then she expressionlessly reached out her hand under the table and quietly took Harry's hand.

Meanwhile, the cool, soft touch on Harry's palm greatly soothed his mood.

Neither Mrs. Weasley on the other side nor Ron, who was standing right next to her, noticed anything amiss.

At that moment, sounds came from upstairs again.

"Mom, we're 17 years old! You can't restrict our freedom. Bill, Charlie, and Percy can go cheer for us, so why can't we?" George complained.

"Yeah, you can't treat us differently like that! What will Ian think of us then?" Fred chimed in, perfectly in agreement.

"Shut up! I said no, and that's final! Besides, Headmaster Titus doesn't need two of you to fill in!" Mrs. Weasley roared angrily.

"If you're still not convinced, come down here. Let's duel. If you win, I'll let you come!"

Actually, she also felt that she was in the wrong in this matter, since her two sons were already adults.

But when she thought of the tens of thousands of werewolves, she couldn't bear to let the two 17-year-olds join in the fun, so she had no choice but to act unreasonably once.

at the same time.

The wizards of the Isle of Wight, Cornwall, County Ebria, Lint, and all of Britain were keeping a close eye on everything that was happening...

……

Meanwhile, on the rooftop of a century-old building across the Thames, two figures suddenly appeared as space distorted.

The sky was gloomy and a cold wind was blowing, but this did not affect the two lightly dressed figures at all.

"Long time no see, Albus!" Grindelwald greeted him in a serious tone.

"Yes, what a coincidence! You also chose to appear here." Dumbledore smiled as he looked at everything.

"That's because being here once gave me an indelible memory," Grindelwald said with a grin.

Upon hearing this, a flicker of reminiscence crossed Dumbledore's eyes. A few seconds later, he calmly asked, "Aren't you afraid of escalating the conflict?"

"Ha! Escalate?" Grindelwald chuckled casually, his heterochromatic eyes filled with disdain. "Ian just did what I wanted to do. When a lion sleeps for too long, people forget its majesty."

At this point, Grindelwald changed the subject and said self-deprecatingly, "Some things must be done in advance, before we get too old to move. Otherwise, Merlin doesn't know what will happen when only your two students are left."

silence.

After a moment, Dumbledore simply nodded silently.

He understood Gellert's meaning perfectly. Don't be fooled by Tom's seemingly harmless appearance now; he's only safe because he has three equally powerful opponents. In the future, if only Ian remains...

(End of this chapter)