Harry Potter: A Certain Ancient Rune Professor of Hogwarts (TL)-Chapter 678

Ms. Bones left in a hurry, she had come over this time to tell Felix personally about Grindelwald’s escape from prison, now she had to rush to the headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards for a meeting to discuss the implications of this event.

“I checked the information on my way here,” she said solemnly before she left, “when Grindelwald’s influence was at its peak, the ministries of magic were forced to form a united force as a way to counter the acolytes who could gather and disperse at random – it was entirely different from the Auror squad that dealt with Voldemort last time.”

When Felix returned to the great hall, he was called away by Professor McGonagall, who, while sorting through Dumbledore’s letters, happened to tidy up Dumbledore’s desk and came across a will – a written resignation, to be precise. In the resignation letter, he thanked everyone who had worked with him and decided to donate most of his belongings – such as his private library, notes on the study of magic, magic tools, and other personal possessions – to Hogwarts.

“For a man who is about to embark on a journey, it would be too much of a burden to carry around any more of these things; memories are my most valuable asset.”

Professor McGonagall read it all aloud in front of the entire faculty, with each professor expressing their gratitude and well wishes.

At the end of the meeting, Professor McGonagall kept Felix behind and handed him a letter, “Again, I found it while sorting through the letters.” Felix was quite surprised, he thought that Dumbledore would not write to him at all.

After all, all these letters are an elaborate pack of lies woven by Dumbledore.

Only after Felix had inquired with Professor McGonagall did he realise that this letter had got mixed up within many other letters, and Felix who had focused on singling out the ones signed to Gellert Grindelwald before had overlooked the rest.

“He left me one too,” Professor McGonagall said emotionally, “and I read it, he expressed his gratitude for the support I had given him for so long. In fact … he was the one who encouraged me at my toughest time in life, and I will never forget it!”

Felix opened the envelope, the letter isn’t that long and only covers half a sheet of parchment.

“… Once I realised that authority is my weakness, I avoided it as much as possible all my life after that. But one cannot always get what one wants. At certain points in my life, I was forced into important affairs concerning the safety and security of the magical community and was expected to lead some people who trusted me, not knowing that I was deeply afraid – when you try to achieve a grand goal, your heart grows cold and unconsciously weighs the value of people on both ends of the scale, and so neglects the fact that they are also living human beings, and in times of crisis, it is always acceptable to sacrifice.”

“Perhaps one day you will take it upon yourself to carry the fate of countless others – as I am sure you will if necessary – and you will face the same dilemmas I have faced. Perhaps you will be more decisive than I was, but I would never want you to become numb to sacrifice as a result. Have mercy on the living, Felix, even if the sacrifice is unavoidable.”

Felix slowly closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the letter on him, the way Dumbledore had used his own death to the utmost, not forgetting to add a lesson at the end: to show him what responsibility is and what sacrifice is.

Dumbledore had indeed made the sacrifice, sacrificing only himself.

…

Harry glanced at the Professor’s table, the professors looked unusually silent as if they had not recovered from the news of Dumbledore’s sudden departure.

The fact that Professor McGonagall had chosen to sit with Professor Hap rather than in the tall, flamboyant chair that had belonged to Dumbledore caused a strange feeling to well up in Harry’s mind, as if Dumbledore hadn’t really left and that he might suddenly appear at any moment with a smug look of mischief on his face.

“I think Professor McGonagall is planning to officially take up the position of Headmaster next year.” Hermione said softly.

“That’s what I think.” Ron snapped to attention, “The holidays are coming up soon and the students aren’t really in the mood … waiting until the next school year is indeed much preferable. Do you guys think that Dumbledore is sitting in a tavern by the sea somewhere right now?”

Harry and Hermione turned their faces to stare at him at the same time.

“What’s wrong?” Ron said, puzzled, “I’ve seen the posters, and this is what muggles are said to do on holiday – wear beach trousers and sunglasses, spend the afternoon on the beach, and when it gets dark run to the nearest pub to watch the gig… …er, Hermione?”

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes.

“Why, why would you think – given the choice – that Dumbledore would leave the school? It’s like you, you said – the holidays are coming up, and he has at least two months off.” Ron looked at her blankly, but Hermione turned her face sideways, her eyes blurred with tears.

Harry felt something lump in his throat and his eyes grew sore.

He tried his best not to blink, fearing that it would make the tears squeeze out; moreover, he was afraid to speak – it was like he was under some curse; if he dared to spit out a single word, or imagine along with Ron that Dumbledore would be celebrating his first day of retirement somewhere in the world at the moment, his whole being would suddenly collapse.

Hermione stared at Harry’s face, finally sure of something, and she suddenly burst into tears.

“Don’t be like this, Hermione. He would never want-” Harry whispered as hoarsely as he could muster.

Hermione wiped her eyes on her sleeve, “Right, I’m sorry.” She said with a sobbing voice. Hermione buried her face in the crook of her arm, one hand covering her stomach in a way that looked like she has a stomach ache, but tears poured out of her eyelashes in drops.

No one had noticed her yet, no, Harry felt a sharp look, and he looked up in a hurry, it was Professor Hap. Harry was just about to get a better look, but the professor had already averted his eyes of his own accord.

“Harry.” A voice said in a whisper.

Harry jolted at the familiar voice and almost jumped up from his seat. He stared at Professor Hap who had suddenly appeared behind him and looked incredulously towards the long dining table, there is another Professor Hap who seemed to be talking to Slughorn, and no one seemed to notice anything unusual, as if this conversation only existed in his head.

“- Weasley, Granger, come along with me.”

Ron looked dumbfounded as Hermione looked up, her face completely weepy, and Felix handed her a handkerchief. “Um, thanks – what’s going on?” She stood up, emotionally drained, and wiped her tears away, only for her to be surprised to find a second ‘Hermione Granger’ sitting in her seat, the ‘her’ was stretching out her arm carelessly to bring a plate of buttered and mushy peas to herself.

Hermione’s eyes widened.

Felix explained calmly, “I don’t want anyone else to hear this conversation.”

He headed out of the great hall, followed by Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who looked back at every step worrying that they might be discovered, only to realise that they were completely over-worried and when they noticed their other selves were feasting on the dishes instead of themselves. They felt a peculiar emotion.

The four of them walked to the stone steps outside the castle, the clouds reflecting a glorious haze of the setting sun.

“Dumbledore wanted the impact of his departure to be minimal, so over the next few years you may hear of him appearing in some wizarding town, or him writing to a close friend about the sights he saw and the food he tasted on his journey, and then fading away little by little.”

Felix said faintly.

“I guessed that,” Hermione said with a small sob, “but I was holding out hope that maybe, maybe something had gone wrong with his health or something …”

Ron’s face stiffened as he finally realised what was happening. He looked over at Harry, but Harry gave no response, and he found himself preferring to go back to the great hall and listen to his classmates talk about the holidays and about Dumbledore – who is still alive, at least in those people’s minds.

“You’re Harry’s best friends,” Felix said to Ron and Hermione, “Harry knows, and you can easily guess the truth from his attitude, even if he doesn’t say anything.”

“So you want us to keep it a secret.” Ron said slowly.

Felix nodded, then shook his head again.

“Including this point. It was Dumbledore’s heart’s desire, and he made a huge sacrifice, but I’m not sure now that things are going to work out the way he originally thought … something unexpected happened … In Dumbledore’s original plan, me, Professor McGonagall, Harry, and perhaps adding the two of you, would be all that would know about it.”

“An accident? What accident?” Ron proactively asked as he looked at an emotionally distraught Harry and Hermione.

“Grindelwald.” Harry, who is sitting on the steps, said coldly.

Hermione gave a half-knowing, half-confused look.

“You should know who Leonhard Bagshot really is,” Felix said, but his tone held certainty, “and know what he has done, or at least something about it. Not long ago, he had a vision – a vision aimed at possible unrest that might happen.”

“Me,” he gestured to himself, “Dumbledore, and himself, three people working hand in hand to deal with future complications, such as the wizarding community being forced to go public … but Dumbledore rejected it because he knew then this plan would never come to fruition. Not to mention, now Grindelwald is nowhere to be found …”

“Professor, you think he’ll disrupt Dumbledore’s plans?” Hermione asked perceptively.

Harry pricked up his ears, unsure of the feelings he currently harboured, he wanted Dumbledore’s exploits to be known, but at the same time, he didn’t want his plans to be disrupted. His mood was very conflicted.

“Oh, I know!” Ron said with certainty, “He wants to work alone and recreate his past glory. When Grindelwald was transferred last night – Hermione and I were standing guard outside the Headmaster’s office and didn’t see that scene – I heard Seamus say that he was passed out the whole time, which probably seemed like a betrayal to Grindelwald. ”

Felix glanced at him.

“It can’t be ruled out – but Grindelwald and Dumbledore have a complicated relationship, and no one can say what’s really on their minds.” Perhaps that book ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’ recorded part of Dumbledore’s true feelings.

“If Grindelwald really did see Headmaster Dumbledore as an enemy,” Harry mused, “there’s one thing he would do besides gathering the Acolytes, he would – publicise Headmaster Dumbledore’s death! ” He finished with a shocked expression.

Felix thought silently, he was worried about that too. Moreover, even if Grindelwald understood Dumbledore’s plight, would his mind change? From what Felix had learned from all sides, Grindelwald had always been an extremely controlling person, and even with Dumbledore’s scepticism of Grindelwald, it was likely that the Grindelwald had been the dominant figure in their younger days of being together.

The greatest white wizard in the world could have been the first follower of the dark wizard Grindelwald. The thought would send shivers down one’s spine, to say the least.

Even if half a century had passed and Grindelwald had managed to refine his mind and become soft? Felix didn’t think so, these men who had seen war, or led it, would show no weakness when it came to being ruthless.

He hadn’t forgotten what Dumbledore had left him in his letter.

Felix would rather prefer that Grindelwald hadn’t given up on his previous idea; although one of the three is now lost, his own magic could create a Dumbledore identity that would be enough to pass for the real one, as long as he didn’t do anything about it. The real one and Grindelwald can create a balance with each other, outwardly tit-for-tat, but privately communicating with each other.

The peaceful, moderate wizards would support the International Confederation of Wizards and Dumbledore (Felix), who represent the existing order; the radical, ambitious wizards would defect to Grindelwald and eliminate the hidden problems. Felix wouldn’t mind supporting him as he forms the New Acolytes if a tacit agreement can be reached. Grindelwald had destroyed the restraining charm in his body anyway.

So by not leaving the school, Felix had released a signal as well: Now he is waiting for Grindelwald to find him.

“Harry, you should know that the Slytherin Chamber has been transformed into a spacious playground by me, and with nothing going on at school these days, I suggest you form a couple of club activities …”

…

Salzburg, Austria.

This historic city is located in western Austria, near the German border, and there are ancient Baroque buildings everywhere in this old city, with churches and monasteries lined up, gardens and fountains competing, and those who live here can look up and see the beautiful scenery of the Alps.

In a spacious theatre, thousands of wizards are gathered in one place, all different in appearance and temperament, but if there is one thing they have in common, it is that they are all old and their faces are wrinkled.

They all stared at the man on the stage.

“My brothers, my sisters, my friends -” Grindelwald’s low voice echoed through the empty room, the opening words of his speeches from yesteryear, and the words spoken were like words that spanned a long span of time, taking them back to those wild and passionate times. But everyone knew that everything had changed and that the man who had once reigned supreme is now old.

Many stayed in tears.

“I am not sure … I am still worthy to call you all as I once did, you were my most unwavering supporters and trusted me beyond measure … but I failed.” The crowd stirred. “The future I had promised you is half a century late, and if you have been disappointed, shaken, and changed your minds, I fully understand, for I too have been disappointed, shaken, and changed my mind …”

Grindelwald held out his hand behind his back – the acolytes let out a gasp – and his left hand charred and smouldered.

“Don’t worry about me,” Grindelwald whispered, “this hand is the price I paid to get out of the cage, and it represents my resolve.” From the tip of his wand flew a ball of blue flame that set the entire stage ablaze, a high-pitched phoenix’s cry heard from the flames.

“… But if you still hold on to the last shred of hope, then come with me and I will show you that future.”

The flames obscured his figure, and while the wizards in the crowd remained hesitant, one stepped forward without hesitation, a witch with white hair all over her head. If Felix had been there, he would have recognised her perfectly, she had gone by the name of Nicole Noel.

She threw herself into the flames, which did not harm her one bit. Grindelwald welcomed her with his hand, which was intact.

“Welcome back, Vinda.”

More and more people approached, and soon the flames became filled with people, even a little crowded. Their figures became blurred in the flames, discernible only by their movements, and they looked in unison at a handful of their peers.

From the flames, Grindelwald spoke in a hoarse voice.

“We were once close, so do me one last favour: tell Felix Hap that we will meet soon, but not in the way he wishes.” He bowed slightly after saying this, then straightened his body.

He waved his wand so violently that the flames suddenly shrank and turned into nothingness.

The stage disappeared completely.

————–

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