Chapter 933: Chapter 933: Is Dumbledore a Ghost?
"Are you... really?"
After a brief moment of panic, Harry looked at Dumbledore with hope in his eyes and asked.
"You could say that..." Dumbledore replied after a moment’s thought.
Harry looked a little excited. If Dumbledore had truly returned, he was sure everyone would be thrilled.
Kyle stood silently to the side, watching them.
In truth, ever since seeing Dumbledore, Kyle’s doubts had only deepened—and it all stemmed from the flimsy excuse Dumbledore had given earlier.
To be honest, Dumbledore wasn’t a perfect wizard. In fact, at times, he could even be a bit cruel...
Like when he left Harry to grow up alone for ten years in the home of his aunt and uncle—who despised magic—just to keep him away from the fame and glory of the wizarding world.
But to claim that Dumbledore stood by and watched students and professors be slaughtered by Death Eaters just so he could retire peacefully? Not even Kyle would buy that—let alone Ron.
It was a terrible excuse.
If Fawkes hadn’t reacted, Kyle might’ve already let the Basilisk kill this so-called Dumbledore.
But Fawkes hadn’t reacted, which meant the person before them really was Dumbledore. And if he were an impostor, there was no way he’d know that Harry was a Horcrux.
And that—that was what Kyle couldn’t make sense of.
He’d been just about to ask when Harry and the others interrupted him.
"Harry, that’s not Headmaster Dumbledore," Hermione said suddenly, snapping everyone out of their thoughts and drawing all eyes to her.
"What? Hermione, of course he is. He’s clearly Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, confused. "You said Polyjuice Potion can only be made with hair from someone who’s still alive, so he can’t be a fake, right?"
"No, I mean—he’s a ghost!" Hermione pointed at him. "Look—he doesn’t have a shadow."
A shadow...
Everyone’s gaze immediately turned to Dumbledore.
Kyle’s pupils narrowed.
The room was brightly lit. Under the light, five long shadows stretched clearly across the floor and walls.
At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary—but if you looked closely, one of those shadows wasn’t a person at all. It was a long-legged stool—the very one Dumbledore was sitting on.
As for Dumbledore himself—he didn’t cast a shadow.
The stool looked like it had been deliberately repositioned, its shadow stretched out unnaturally. If Hermione hadn’t pointed it out, Kyle would never have noticed anything was off.
"Professor, you..."
"Ah, don’t be nervous," Dumbledore waved a hand, cutting Kyle off. "I’m still alive—for now. I just thought I could slip by unnoticed this time. Didn’t expect Miss Granger to catch me."
As he spoke, he stood and walked into the light.
This time, it was unmistakable—he really had no shadow. And that only happened with ghosts.
"I know what you want to ask," Dumbledore said, turning to Kyle. "I can only say that I’m in a rather unique state. Not exactly a ghost in the traditional sense."
"But you’re not really alive either, are you?" Kyle shot back.
Dumbledore didn’t answer—but his silence said enough.
It wasn’t until a long moment later that he spoke again, his tone half-joking. "It’s not that hard to understand, Kyle. Don’t forget—time travel only takes someone back in time. It doesn’t create extra time out of nowhere... I think you know what I mean."
Now it was Kyle’s turn to fall silent.
Of course he knew. Dumbledore had once been rejected by time back in 1899. Who knew how many times he’d relived the same events, or how many years had passed?
That time didn’t just come out of thin air—nor could it simply vanish.
In other words, Dumbledore was much older than he appeared... but he’d never mentioned it since his return, and Kyle hadn’t wanted to dwell on it either.
The silence between the two of them made Harry nervous. He looked from Dumbledore to Kyle, feeling completely lost. His head spun—he had no idea what they were talking about.
"I’ll explain everything later. I won’t hide anything from you—no matter what you want to know," Dumbledore said again. "But right now, the most important question is: how can we completely destroy Tom?"
At those words, Harry finally snapped out of his daze. He didn’t even care anymore whether Dumbledore was a ghost. He immediately raised his voice and asked, "Professor, am I really... am I...?"
"A Horcrux," Dumbledore finished for him. "That’s right. In a sense, you are indeed one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes... I’m sorry, my boy. I should have told you the truth a long time ago."
"I... I..." Harry looked lost. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
"Hold on," Kyle stepped forward. "Professor, if we can deal with the soul fragment inside Harry, can we get back to what we were talking about earlier?"
"You could say that," Dumbledore nodded. "But this isn’t easy. Harry is different from the other Horcruxes—we can’t just destroy the vessel to kill the piece of Tom’s soul inside him."
"The only method I can think of is to have Tom himself do it—use the unique connection between the two souls to destroy the other."
"But Voldemort already escaped," Hermione pointed out.
"Yes, he did," Dumbledore said gravely. "That was my fault. I stubbornly believed that only when Harry was ready to face all of this himself would he have the foundation to defeat Tom."
"I just didn’t expect Tom to lose..." Dumbledore looked at Harry. "Forgive me. I really should’ve told you all of this sooner."
Harry stood with his head down.
It was clear he harbored some resentment toward Dumbledore, but the way they were meeting now was so unusual, he didn’t know how to express it.
"It’s just a soul fragment. No need to make it so complicated," Kyle suddenly said, breaking the awkward silence.
"You have a solution?" Dumbledore looked surprised. "I’ve asked around. Nicolas’s method for purifying Horcruxes isn’t suitable for Harry."
"That’s not what I’m talking about," Kyle shook his head. "Actually, when I first brought the Diadem to Nicolas, we discussed various ways to deal with Horcruxes."
He flicked his fingers, popped the lock on the suitcase, and leaned halfway inside.
"Honestly, Horcruxes might seem tricky, but there are plenty of ways to deal with them—Fiendfyre, Basilisk venom, the Killing Curse... all valid options."
His voice came from inside the suitcase, muffled by the space.
"All of those, without exception, affect the soul... So I thought, there’s something else that targets the soul—and you’ve all seen it before."
"Oh, found it!" Kyle stood up.
At the same time, the temperature in the room dropped sharply, as if the air itself had frozen...
Harry saw something float out of the suitcase. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, and it emitted a chilling, rattling sound.
"A Dementor..." Harry clutched his chest as a tide of terrible memories crashed over him.
"Expecto—"
"Expelliarmus!"
Hermione’s wand spun through the air and landed in Kyle’s hand.
"Don’t panic—it’s the key to solving our problem." Kyle handed the wand back to Hermione, then directed the Dementor toward Harry.
Dumbledore seemed to understand what Kyle was thinking. His blue eyes lit up instantly.
But Kyle didn’t notice. He was still explaining to Harry.
"Remember what the Dementor’s Kiss does?"
Harry felt like he was frozen solid, but he still managed to stammer out, "The Dementor... sucks out the soul... and leaves behind... a living body."
"Exactly," Kyle said. "And a Horcrux is just a fragment of a soul."
Now, everyone in the room—even Ron—understood what Kyle meant.
They would use the Dementor’s ability to extract souls to remove the piece of Voldemort’s soul inside Harry.
"A brilliant idea!" Dumbledore said sincerely. It was something that had never occurred to him.
"I’ve actually wanted to test this method for a while," Kyle admitted, "but I was worried the Dementor might damage the Diadem, since it carries a soul fragment. So I never had the nerve to try it."
He stopped in front of Harry and said, "This is the perfect chance to test my theory."
Harry blinked. Something felt off.
He was worried about the Dementor damaging the Diadem—but not him?
Was he seriously less important than a diadem?
"Wait—" Hermione rushed to stop Kyle. "You haven’t tested this method yet. What if the Dementor ends up devouring Harry’s soul? It’s too dangerous. I don’t agree!"
"You’re the best, Hermione!" Harry was nearly in tears. That was exactly what he’d been trying to say...
"So you’re saying it’s less risky to let Voldemort kill Harry?" Kyle shot back.
"I—I didn’t mean that, I just..." Hermione fumbled to explain.
"Stupefy."
With a casual wave of his wand, Kyle stunned her without warning. Hermione collapsed to the floor, completely unconscious.
"Kyle, you—"
"Stupefy."
Ron dropped next.
"Perfect. Now no one’s going to interrupt," Kyle said, fixing his eyes on Harry. "Relax. It won’t hurt at all."
Harry’s throat moved. He wanted to firmly refuse, to speak out—but when the words reached his lips, they wouldn’t come.
The Dementor was already leaning in. Harry felt like his throat had frozen solid—he couldn’t utter a sound. In a haze, he caught a glimpse beneath the creature’s hood.
It was a gaping void, one that seemed capable of draining every last bit of happiness from the world.
Harry had once believed he’d conquered his fear of Dementors—but he realized now he’d been wrong. The scream echoed again, just as it had the first time he encountered one on the Hogwarts Express.
Only this time, the scream was clearer—like it was right beside his ear.
Instinctively, Harry tried to cast the Patronus Charm, but his fingers felt impossibly heavy. He couldn’t even raise his wand.
His gaze grew unfocused, his face turning as pale and lifeless as a faded photograph. He felt something being pulled from deep inside his throat.
From the others’ point of view, a glowing orb began to emerge—its color hard to define. It might have been white, or a pale yellow, or blue, or red...
Its hue seemed to constantly shift, yet somehow stay the same.
The moment that orb appeared, the Dementor visibly perked up, eager to consume it—but just then, a long silver thread appeared behind it.
It was a jellyfish tentacle, wrapping tightly around the Dementor’s neck. The creature instantly gave up on the feast and, instead, began to suck with even more force.
Then, a second orb of light surfaced—this one noticeably smaller and dimmer than the first.
"That’s it..." Dumbledore called out excitedly. "Yes, that’s the fragment of Tom’s soul!"
"Eat it!" The jellyfish released the Dementor, and its tentacle coiled protectively around Harry’s soul.
But the Dementor hesitated. For a brief moment, something like clear surprise flashed across its hollow, scab-covered eye sockets.
Only after Kyle repeated the command did it finally lurch forward, the ragged hole beneath its hood aimed directly at the smaller, unprotected orb.
Whoosh!
It was like a sudden gust of icy wind swept through the room. The smaller orb was engulfed in a black mist, and eerie, blood-curdling screams echoed from deep within it.
But in moments, the screams and the mist were drawn into the Dementor’s maw. The soul fragment flickered weakly twice—then was extinguished completely.
The Dementor hovered in place, radiating a strange sense of satisfaction.
"So..." Kyle turned to Dumbledore with a puzzled look, "is that it? Is it done?"
"It should be... I think," Dumbledore replied, sounding a bit uncertain himself.
It had seemed too simple. After all, this was a fragment of Voldemort’s soul. And yet it had been devoured just like that—like a piece of candy?
Still, he could feel it. When the fragment was sucked into the Dementor’s mouth, the lingering aura of soul magic vanished entirely.
Who would’ve thought—a Dementor, one of the most vile and feared creatures, could so naturally counter one of the darkest magical forces: a Horcrux?
"I knew it would work," Kyle said, returning the Dementor to the suitcase. Then he walked over to check on Harry.
Fortunately, once the Dementor vanished, the orb representing Harry’s soul had slowly sunk back into his body.
Harry’s body jolted violently, and color returned to his face. He was still unconscious, but it wouldn’t be long before he woke up.
Now that he was sure Harry was all right, Kyle turned to face Dumbledore.
"All right. What do you want to know?" Dumbledore still seemed shaken by the sight of the Dementor devouring a Horcrux, but he showed no sign of going back on his word.
"When did it happen?"
"After I brought Draco Malfoy to Severus’s office," Dumbledore replied.
"That was the day of your funeral, wasn’t it?"
"Well... a few days later," Dumbledore said.
"So you’re the one who rescued Malfoy?" Kyle asked. "And you knocked out Professor Flitwick?"
"That was Aberforth," Dumbledore corrected. "He ambushed Filius. I had nothing to do with that."
"No wonder," Kyle narrowed his eyes. "You vanished after that. It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth."
"I had no choice. I thought I could hold out until the final battle," Dumbledore said with a weary smile.
"Then what are you now?" Kyle looked him over carefully.
He might have said he was a ghost, but there was hardly any difference between this Dumbledore and the living version—that was why Kyle hadn’t noticed anything strange at first.
"Call it a kind of price," Dumbledore said. "That day, I encountered Lady Rowena Ravenclaw. I begged her for help—to let me carry out one final task for Hogwarts. She agreed."
Kyle’s eyes flickered. He hadn’t expected Rowena Ravenclaw to be involved.
"What did she do?"
"I’m sorry," Dumbledore said, "but that’s the one thing I can’t tell you."
"Fine. Then what are you planning to do?" Kyle didn’t press him further and changed the subject. "Help my mum?"
"That was just a favor along the way—not part of my plan," said Dumbledore.
"Help defeat Voldemort?"
"That was my initial idea," Dumbledore admitted. "I wanted to conserve my strength, to step in at a critical moment and give you a hand—but later I realized, even without me, you were capable of defeating Tom."
"Then... was it to tell me Harry’s a Horcrux?"
"No," Dumbledore shook his head again.
Now Kyle truly couldn’t guess.
"It’s about you," Dumbledore reminded him. "Do you remember what we were talking about before Harry arrived?"
"Of course," Kyle nodded. "You said you wanted to retire, and that you let the Death Eaters run wild at Hogwarts on purpose."
"Exactly," Dumbledore said. "Tomorrow, I’ll appear before everyone and say those same things again."
"You’ll be buried under a flood of Howlers," Kyle said, lifting his head sharply. "And with that fake funeral on top of everything else... Professor Dumbledore, you’ll become the disgrace of the entire British wizarding world overnight."
"Ah, but that’s exactly what I want," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "If I can draw all the attention and hatred to myself, no one will focus on what you’ve done."
"Huh?" Kyle pointed at himself. "What did I do?"
"The Death Eaters who died in the Fiendfyre," Dumbledore said. "Plenty of people heard what Tom said to you. Once things calm down, they’re bound to start asking questions."
"Oh, and that huge patch of Chomping Cabbages behind the castle—that was you too, wasn’t it? Have you ever stopped to think about how many wizards you’ve killed in this war?"
Kyle pressed his lips together. He really didn’t know. Aside from the scattered casualties, the two biggest incidents were exactly the ones Dumbledore had mentioned.
The Fiendfyre explosion killed a bit over a hundred Death Eaters—more were injured than dead.
And as for the Chomping Cabbages... well, they were just plants. The Death Eaters weren’t so clueless they couldn’t run away. Surely it hadn’t been that many...
"Two hundred sixty," Dumbledore said, finishing the thought for him. "Roughly."
"That’s why we need a large enough target—someone who can attract all the attention and all the hatred. Someone people will fixate on, so they unconsciously forget the rest."
"I think I’m the perfect fit."