Chapter 677: Godric's Valley - Part 1
Felix examined the magical patterns on his wrist. They looked somewhat sinister as they seeped slowly into his skin. Felix felt a prickling sensation, as if these charms were probing his flesh with tiny needles.
Dumbledore's face was pale. The process of transferring the spells wasn't as easy as he had claimed, especially in his current weakened state.
Felix couldn't quite remember the last time he had cast a spell.
"Dumbledore!"
A wizard with short black hair appeared in the frame of the headmaster's office.
"How's it going?" Dumbledore asked, trying to rally.
"Two things," the wizard panted. "There was an incident when the International Confederation of Wizards was leaving. A student recognized Grindelwald by a subtle pattern on his clothes, and they clashed—thankfully, McGonagall and Babajide Akingbade intervened in time. The situation's under control, and Grindelwald has been taken away."
"Gellert didn't wake up halfway through?"
"No—he remained unconscious throughout."Dumbledore nodded slightly.
"Babajide Akingbade? The new chairperson?" Felix interjected, partly to divert his own attention. He always felt like setting fire to the pattern on his wrist. Turning to Dumbledore, he said, "Didn't you ask me to keep an eye on Grindelwald recently? I've been keeping an eye out around the school—just in case any saints get any ideas—but I didn't see his name on the live map."
Dumbledore pondered. "Babajide didn't mention his visit in his letter... must have been a last-minute decision."
"That's the second thing," the wizard in the frame said. "He and McGonagall are on their way here. They'll be here soon."
"Let me handle him, Dumbledore. With your approach," Felix said eagerly, referring to impersonating Dumbledore to dismiss Akingbade.
"No, Felix, you stay." Dumbledore's voice, though weak, was clear as he looked towards the portrait of the headmaster waiting silently on the wall. "It's quite a trip for you, Efra. Let Minerva take Babajide somewhere to rest. We'll deal with everything tomorrow."
The wizard in the frame acknowledged and disappeared.
Facing questioning glances, Dumbledore explained briefly, "To avoid complications—I'm heading to Harry's immediately, and you must focus on removing the spells that were originally mine before Gellert wakes up!"
Felix nodded, his mind immersed. At his right forearm, a glittering charm lingered, seemingly harmless and non-threatening. But Felix had no doubt that if this were placed on any other wizard—even Snape—it would be unbearable.
Because fundamentally, this thing was a part of the curse placed on Grindelwald.
Or to put it another way—it was a fragment of the curse intercepted by Dumbledore, modified to render it non-hostile. And because of this shared origin, Dumbledore could sense Grindelwald's condition.
The reverse was also true.
However, the imprisonment on Grindelwald was too strong; he couldn't usually access it.
With nearly eight hours until dawn, approximately the time Felix estimated for Grindelwald to wake up, he was confident in the intensity of his spell unless some fool used a powerful revival charm on Grindelwald.
He and Dumbledore weren't gods, but they had done everything they could—
Grindelwald's exclusive wand was taken away immediately, almost reverting him to his original state, rendering him practically helpless—transferring the spells didn't affect the restrictive magic on Grindelwald, but until Felix regained control of the spells, he couldn't discern Grindelwald's state.
Additionally, Dumbledore personally communicated the transfer plan with the International Confederation of Wizards, not to mention that during this time, Felix had closely monitored Grindelwald's unusual behavior according to Dumbledore's instructions—Neville's Pensieve wasn't a secret, but just like Felix and Hermione's conclusion, the Pensieve was malfunctioning and not enchanted with anything else.
But even so, they couldn't guarantee everything would go smoothly.
Dumbledore wanted Grindelwald alive, even if Grindelwald's final impression of him was the cold side. Hence the complication, with many tactics unusable, and Grindelwald being far from an easy opponent.
In the worst-case scenario, if Grindelwald discovered a change in the controller of the spells—but that was it.
His fate wouldn't change at all.
As for the saints' kidnapping, perhaps this matter was a huge trouble in the eyes of the International Confederation of Wizards, but once Felix took control of the spells, he could sense Grindelwald's approximate location, and sooner or later, he would be found by Felix unless he kept moving.
With Felix taking the lead, the possibility of Grindelwald escaping was actually quite low—unless hundreds or thousands of wizards guarded him day and night.
In the end, Grindelwald's own strength was no longer at its peak.
But Felix roughly guessed one possibility: if the magical world were to be exposed one day, and the situation became difficult, Grindelwald would still be a dangerous card. This might also be Dumbledore's thinking.
...
Felix was almost multitasking, focusing on controlling the spells while also diverting some attention to the image in the mirror in mid-air. Voldemort had already been awakened; he squinted around, surprised to find himself in a forest.
"Where is this place?" Voldemort asked softly after a while.
They were currently bathed in bright sunlight, with lush green grass underfoot, and the wind rustling the leaves. But not far from there, a massive dragon was pulling several carriages in a semi-transparent manner. Though the memory was somewhat distant, Voldemort recognized what it was—a roller coaster only found in Muggle amusement parks.
Even though Muggles' roller coasters didn't hover on snow-capped mountains, and there were no tracks below... Voldemort didn't find it ugly. On the contrary, he found it rather pleasing and couldn't help but look at it a bit more.
"The Chamber of Salazar Slytherin," Harry said expressionlessly. "Felix—Harp," he paused, "transformed the Chamber into what it looks like now."
"So you mean I'm several kilometers beneath Hogwarts now?" Voldemort said, picking up a leaf from the ground and crushing it bit by bit. He smiled, his eyes glowing crimson, "Severus! I once thought you had betrayed me, but it seems I was wrong. Indeed, even the greatest can make mistakes. Please accept my apologies, my loyal friend—"
He spoke as he opened his arms, moving towards Harry, as if wanting to give him a warm embrace, celebrating his successful escape. But Voldemort stopped.
Something about Snape's gaze made him feel uneasy, something that was missing from his usual deathly silence emanating from his black pupils—there was something else, so intense, so dazzling, he couldn't pretend not to see it—Snape's eyes were filled with hatred.
"Severus?" he said slowly, his gaze turning cold.
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