Hogwarts: From Selling White Peppers to Becoming a God

Chapter 321 The Only Way to Stop Murphy

As Dumbledore followed the house-elves up the stairs that had been untouched by humans for countless years, he reached the top of the tower.

The door suddenly opened slowly, and he saw the man sitting at the table by the window.

His hair was dry and gray, his body was slightly hunched, and he was so thin that he was almost unrecognizable. His withered face showed almost no trace of his former appearance.

But those eyes still shone brightly.

"Albus," the man chuckled, "you look really old."

Dumbledore didn't know what to say for a moment, and just stood there.

"Oh, come in. I've prepared honey tea. I don't know if your taste has changed over the years. But this is from bees that Damt raised in the mountains outside. It's pretty much something I made myself. I collected nectar from dozens of flowers, so it should taste pretty good."

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then stepped through the door. He saw Grindelwald stand up, limp slowly to a cabinet, take a bottle of honey, and then make tea for the two of them.

"Your legs..."

"Oh, well," Grindelwald said dismissively, "it's a bit cold in here, you know. I can't use magic, so my joints aren't very good."

Dumbledore frowned, and after a long while, drew his wand. "Heal quickly!"

Grindelwald let him do as he pleased, and when the spell ended, he moved his leg and looked at the wand in Dumbledore's hand. "You used it well."

"I thought you would be well taken care of with house-elves," Dumbledore said.

“Indeed, they are loyal and obedient,” Grindelwald said, “but, as you know, I don’t like them much. They’re not allowed in this room either.”

"Gellert, I..."

"Have some tea first, Albus," Grindelwald said. "I know you must be very busy, but it's been fifty years. Surely you can find time for a cup of tea?"

Dumbledore picked up the cup of tea, hesitated for a moment, but finally drank it.

"How does it taste?"

"very good."

"Ah, it wasn't for nothing that I spent over a year on this." Grindelwald laughed. "You know, for over two years, I've been thinking about what I should prepare for when I see you."

"I actually had quite a few plans. For example, at one point I wanted to make myself look more miserable so that you would understand exactly how you tortured me."

"Sorry, Gellert..."

"Oh, it's alright, I've already rejected that plan," Grindelwald said with a smile. "It's a rare reunion, there's no need to make it so tragic."

Dumbledore looked at him. "I thought you would hate me very much."

Grindelwald smiled calmly. "A little, more or less, but it's irrelevant now. Here, I have no shortage of time, but I can only explore my past. I repeatedly chew on those memories, and at one point I wanted to find the reasons for my failure, to find a way to defeat you. Later, I gradually gave up. Time is a terrible thing, isn't it, Albus?"

"Is that really what you think, Gellert?" Dumbledore asked, his voice filled with astonished hope. "You've come to a realization?"

"Look at us, Albus, fifty years! How much time have we wasted? Do you think I'll continue to trap myself in those so-called rights and wrongs, superiorities and inferiors, or regrets and hatred?"

Do you think I still care about others?

Dumbledore's eyes flickered; he knew that the "others" in the other person's words did not include him.

He let out a sigh of relief and then said, "Gellert, I need your help."

Grindelwald looked at him, sighed after a long while, and said, "It seems you still care about them. Sometimes I think you're a more power-hungry fellow than I am. We're old, Albus, our time has passed, and clinging to power will only breed resentment."

"I didn't intend to control anyone..." Dumbledore looked at the other person, "It's just..."

"I know," Grindelwald interrupted him, "it's just that you can't let go of that responsibility. It's like some parents who can't stop worrying about their grown-up children, always feeling that they still have a responsibility to them and need to do something for them."

"You can say I'm being presumptuous," Dumbledore said, looking troubled, "but you and I both know the secret, and it's the keeper's responsibility."

Grindelwald was silent for a moment. "After all these years, can't this responsibility be passed on?"

“There was a very suitable candidate,” Dumbledore said, “but it wasn’t until recently that I realized he would be the Oathbreaker.”

"So, you've lost?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"He is more... cunning, or rather, wiser than any of us. He understands human weaknesses and knows how to exploit them. He is adept at distorting the truth, and the truth is merely an illusion to him that he can manipulate."

"He is also very strong, stronger than we were when we were young. Sometimes, his wisdom and methods even make me feel afraid."

"Oh," Grindelwald frowned, "I'm starting to feel a little jealous of what you're saying."

"..." Dumbledore was taken aback. "In short, I tried many methods, some of which I was even reluctant to use, but... none of them worked. I couldn't stop him."

"Have you ever thought about telling him the secret?" Grindelwald asked, "like you told me back then?"

"He's different from you. Although you're very similar, his goals are completely contrary to his vow, and he won't stop because of that. Besides, what stopped you back then wasn't just the truth..."

Grindelwald remained silent for a long while. Finally, he sighed. "Albus, have you ever thought about fighting back? Perhaps not like I did, but in another way. Perhaps if we just have a little more faith in ourselves, maybe we have a chance to win..."

"In fact, I've already felt the changes over the past few years..."

"My magic is growing..." Grindelwald said, "The limits of magic have been raised slightly."

"The person you mentioned may have accomplished what I wanted to do but was unable to."

"If he succeeds, perhaps we will have the power to fight back..."

"But how many people will die, Gellert?" Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "Why should we gamble with everyone's fate? This is the best arrangement; we cannot take the risk."

Grindelwald stared into the other man's eyes for a long while, then said, "Well, I can never win an argument with you."

"Tell me about him. What kind of person is he that makes you so wary?"

"Murphy..." Dumbledore seemed lost in memories, "He's someone I can't understand. No, I don't mean he's cunning; he's pure, almost to the point of being honest. He also seems to disdain hiding his desires. Yet, at his core, it's a mystery. I don't know what made him who he is... He seems to have appeared out of thin air, without a past, without a process. I can't understand his power, I can't understand the source of his wisdom... Sometimes, I even wonder if he might be a puppet of some greater will..."

Dumbledore told Grindelwald everything he knew about Murphy, and he didn't stop until sunset.

"He's a lot like you, both in his goals and his personality; he's similar to you when you were young. That's why I need your help. Perhaps you can find a way to stop him."

Grindelwald, who was already smoking a large hookah, suddenly laughed after hearing Dumbledore's words. "You're using Gringotts and the Wizarding Association to trip him up? Albus, you're too superstitious about your own methods."

"These methods might defeat me, because I'm still operating within the wizarding world's chessboard. But this person, if what you're saying is true, has already transcended our control."

"Albus, give up those illusions. There's only one way to stop people like this."

As he spoke, he exhaled a skull-shaped smoke ring.

"Kill him."

(End of this chapter)