Chapter 448: Hope
"If there were a referee present, I would say this is an outright foul," Dumbledore said, stepping forward. His tone was as casual and easy as if they were sharing a drink.
Will the Pukwudgie stood tense, bow drawn, watching as Dumbledore walked toward Mr. Green completely undefended and unhindered. Will's body was coiled like a spring.
"The greatest wizard of the century?" the young wizard said with a laugh.
"Oh, that is merely a polite exaggeration," Dumbledore replied.
"Three minutes, how about it?" the young wizard mused.
"A most reasonable amount of time," Dumbledore agreed.
"I have to give him some sort of explanation. Opportunities like this are rare, and this one really shouldn't have been spent here," the young wizard said with a grin. It was a deeply sophisticated, seasoned smile, but on his youthful face, it appeared brilliantly cunning.
"A rose rushing to become another rose—that is never a good thing," Dumbledore observed, watching him closely, his smile widening.
"Who knows? Are you keeping time? Have three minutes passed yet?" the young wizard asked.
Dumbledore's conversational rhythm was interrupted; his smile froze. He glanced toward the nearby house, which was nearly consumed by the flames.
"The wisdom of Ravenclaw..." Dumbledore sighed.
"Our student, you still have much to learn," the young wizard said softly before his body went limp, swaying as he collapsed into Quirrell's arms.
"Mr. Green!!" Quirrell roared at the top of his lungs, his gaze snapping to Dumbledore with murderous intensity. He no longer had the capacity to ponder the strange scene he had just witnessed; his veins pulsed as he commanded the Fiendfyre to burn ever hotter. He knew with absolute clarity that he couldn't destroy the curse, and he couldn't stop Dumbledore for even a second. But he had to remain standing until Dumbledore reached the Resurrection Stone.
"You have changed much, and for the better, Quirinus. It seems that a wizard who loses something as intoxicating as power can still live quite well."
Dumbledore flicked his wand gently. Quirrell and the Pukwudgie butler suddenly found themselves unable to move. They could only watch as Dumbledore walked toward the house, toward them.
In the darkness, the fire continued to roar, and thick, suffocating black smoke swirled around the building, with the evil fire-beasts mindlessly devouring everything in their path. With Quirrell's control lost, they would soon consume the Resurrection Stone along with the curse.
But in the midst of this crisis, Dumbledore stopped. He looked slyly at the young wizard, who was still clutching his wand tightly, and said softly:
"How is it that I didn't know a wizard could grip his wand so firmly while unconscious?"
Sean opened his eyes. His vertical slits slowly expanded, shifting back into normal pupils.
"Have you let go?" Sean asked, looking toward the still-burning house.
"I suspect the esteemed Rowena wanted more than just a chat with me?" Dumbledore changed the subject.
"Indeed, Professor Dumbledore. I still have a bit of magic left in reserve," Sean said bluntly.
He had always known that he could ask Ravenclaw to take over, as he possessed a vast majority of her memories. But the problem was that doing so carried severe consequences—a wizard's soul would suffer unpredictable changes. It was the same principle that dictated how Dark Magic could warp a wizard's personality. That was why Sean had never intended to use it. Unless he had absolutely no other choice.
"An excellent practical lesson. I'm afraid I must give your performance top marks," Dumbledore said with a kind smile.
"Thank you... but... in the end, does oblivion make everything beautiful?" Sean asked, choosing his words carefully.
"I fear not, my boy. There is a Gordian knot between love and oblivion, and until it rusts away entirely, it will never let us go." Dumbledore gave a kind wink.
"So..."
"So, I have left it all to you, my boy. Remember? It is arrogant and foolish for the elderly to ignore the capabilities of the young. I still have time, and I am not without choices. Therefore, it is I who thank you, my dear Sean. Hope... that is a substance as precious as honey."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. Sean thought he could see the stars reflected within them.
☆☆☆
-> SUPPORT ME WITH POWER STONE
-> FOR EVERY 200 PS = BOUNS CHAPTER
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you