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Published at 19th of December 2022 07:59:58 AM


Chapter 668

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Chapter 668: The Jailer

Felix returned to the Ancient Rune’s office with an expressionless face, his feet heavy as he sat down on the couch. Valen yawned and handed him a glass of juice that she had prepared.

In the end, someone bit the straw and blew into it, making the juice bubble up and infuriating Valen into hammering him twice.

Felix smiled, stroked her soft fur, and watched the Tom and Jerry cartoon with her. After watching it for a while, his thoughts came to life.

He was surprised to find a resemblance between Spike the Bulldog and Dumbledore; it was definitely a psychological similarity, and if so, who was Grindelwald? It couldn’t be the unlucky Tom cat, would it?

Valen looked at Felix strangely, the Great Demon King is smiling so brightly.

Had the Great Demon King managed to bring himself into the Blue Cat character in the cartoon? That’s not bad, she also often puts herself in the mouse’s perspective, as Jerry always manages to outwit his larger opponents. Unfortunately, this episode is about the blue cat teasing the big dog.

When he returned to his bedroom, Felix lay on his bed, the scenes that had taken place in the Headmaster’s office earlier continuing to swirl in his mind.

Dumbledore solemnly introduced him to the restraining spell imposed on Grindelwald. Before the advent of Voldemort, Grindelwald was considered the most dangerous dark wizard that had ever lived, and even now, Grindelwald still posed more of a threat in the minds of some people (especially the magical regime outside of Britain) than Voldemort.

One could never be more cautious when facing such an enemy.

When that legendary duel was over, the United States magical congress delegation proposed Grindelwald’s immediate execution, eliminating any future threats, as no existing prison would be able to trap him. This proposal was supported by more than half of the delegates from various countries at the time, but Dumbledore objected strongly against it.

He argued that the reason this duel even happened was because, before the duel, they promised each other that the loser would automatically become a prisoner and completely (or passively) renounce his ideas.

What’s more, there were more practical reasons.

The war was not completely over, and the influence of the acolytes scattered all over the world was still massive, and they would not hesitate to start a riot if they heard the news of their leader’s execution.

The magical world had only barely seen the hope of peace, and it was right to take a gentle approach, rather than actively intensify the conflict. Therefore, not only Grindelwald must not die, but the International Confederation of Wizards must actively spread the news that he is alive so that the Acolytes cannot elect a new leader.

Dumbledore’s reputation was as strong as it could be at that time, and with the times being truly turbulent, this method was later adopted.

But a new problem arose.

It became clear to the Ministry officials that Grindelwald could not be imprisoned by simply confiscating his wand or using a magical barrier. They had to devise new and powerful methods of imprisonment to prevent Grindelwald from breaking out of prison again.

An African wizard had a solution.

The Uagadou School of Wizardry in the African lands had preserved the ancient practice of using magic through gestures, so the loss of their wands did not render the dark wizards there defenceless, and they naturally had a unique solution, such as a restraining spell that targeted the knuckles.

But Grindelwald was far more powerful than the average dark wizard, and naturally, he received extraordinary levels of attention; the African wizard had mentioned an extremely powerful restraining spell, which had a notoriety that was widely rumoured among their local wizarding community, and it ranked highly among their horror legends.

Felix thought about what Dumbledore had said about it.

“It’s not so much a sealing or restraining spell but rather a malevolent curse of some unknown kind. Once inflicted, it clings to a wizard’s flesh and blood, drawing magic from the recipient and rendering them unable to cast spells, and effectively reducing them into a Squib.”

“I improved it – by removing the pointless, penalizing pain and adding a key, a window, so that if Grindelwald ever tried to break the spell, I would know it immediately.”

“Again, because of the use of my own magic, I can still sense his location and state roughly. Of course, the further away one gets, the more vague that sense becomes …”

“So the imprisonment at Nurmengard Castle was just a front, you personally have served as the jailer guarding the prison.” Felix had a sudden epiphany, and he hit the nail on the head.

Dumbledore did not reply, but lowered his eyes and surveyed his hands. Half a moment later, he continued to murmur.

“In order to research the secrets of the Resurrection Stone, my soul and magic have undergone unforeseen changes; I am no longer suitable – to use your term – to serve as a jailer, and a new man must be found to replace me. ”

“You’re too obsessed with the Resurrection Stone, Albus, even if it is for Harry-”

“And Ariana.” Dumbledore interrupted, “One might, would even say that the whole plan started out entirely for her, and has been gradually taking shape in my mind ever since I got the Resurrection Stone. I kept suppressing the idea every single day after that, because Voldemort was still around, and I had to desperately convince myself not to wear that ring. I held off for a few years and when Voldemort finally fell completely, I got the courage to let loose.”







Felix glared at him, this thought was too well hidden. Dumbledore smiled wryly at him.

“So you thought of me?” Felix raised his volume slightly.

Dumbledore’s eyelids fluttered a few times, and he said in a deep voice, “I know you hate restraints, Felix. I can assure you that the transfer of the charm will not cause you any bother, rather, there will only be benefits. After that, Gellert’s force will never become a concern to you.”

There was a short silence. Felix wavered between being moved and resisting, having a hard time deciding for a moment.

If Dumbledore was telling the truth – and he had confidence that Dumbledore wouldn’t lie to him, and it wasn’t just out of trust in the other man – becoming the new jailer would mean that Grindelwald’s fate would be entirely in his own hands. Not much good would come of it, but it would remove a huge pitfall: at least Felix wouldn’t have to worry about waking up from a nap with an army of 100,000 acolytes surrounding him.

The reason why he couldn’t stop thinking about it is actually due to that threat being real and tangible. The old man once implicitly threatened him about it after a disagreement, just as badly as the woman who went by the name Noel.

Felix trusted that he would not be overwhelmed and captured alive – his fighting system strongly favoured fighting against a huge sea of people – but there are limits to everything, and just because he could survive an army of wizards didn’t mean he could withstand a continuous barrage of magic from thousands of people at once.

And, without realizing it, he had grown to regard Hogwarts as a part of himself.

He could run and destroy them little by little, but Hogwarts could not. Not even with the addition of Dumbledore.

In the darkness, Felix’s blue eyes stared at the ceiling. Valen was smacking her beaks in her crib, talking mindlessly in her sleep. Fawkes? Catching fish? Seems like fun. …

Some thoughts surfaced in his mind once again.

“Why not accept the offer Grindelwald made? From what he said at the table this morning, he seems to have repented or at least taken the initiative to signal a compromise, and I can’t believe you can’t see that.”

“I hope that’s true. I hope he feels how utterly awful and shameful what he has done was. Perhaps, he wants to make amends for what he once did … but we are too deeply entangled, Felix. I cannot judge the truth and cannot afford to misjudge it, nor the entire magical community can bear that price …”

These words pretty much pronounced the possibility of Grindelwald’s future comeback.

“… Well, I probably see where you’re coming from. Why did you choose me to transfer the charm?”

“The average wizard can’t handle the power. Just like how their Animagus can’t incorporate magical substances into their bodies – I don’t think you have that trouble?”

“Tch, you expected this.” Felix scowled.

“You can think about it for a while longer,” Dumbledore said sincerely at last, “and I hope you will agree, it’s not a command, but a plea … If the people of the International Confederation of Wizards know about this, it will be difficult for Gellert to continue to live on.”



As the month of May arrived, the sunny weather became more frequent than in the prior period with each passing day. As Felix stood at the window looking out into the distance, he noticed the scattered appearance of laid-back students at Black Lake, where the water sparkled, and giant squid paddled through the warm shallow water to bask in the sun.

Felix wrote a letter to Rita Skeeter.

The woman spilled a lot of bitterness in her reply, but he spotted the trick in her writing at once, and Skeeter wallowed in the fact that she is, in her own words, “standing at the cusp of history, the nib of her pen swaying the times.”

It could be tempting. But Felix prefers the novelty of magic, of staying in one place and working on a new and interesting magical challenge. Like landing on the moon, or-

When Hermione entered the office, she was surprised to find Professor Hap working on a piece of fabric, and a book lying open on the small table in front of her, she picked it up and read the title, The Complete Book on Jumper Knitting Styles.

Hermione couldn’t help but be surprised.

“Trying to do something fresh to experience.” Felix said with a grin, “I asked around, and finally, Professor McGonagall told me that our Headmaster has a high level of knowledge on Muggle jumper knitting styles and I just mentioned it casually, and he recommended this for me to read, it’s particularly comprehensive.”

He beckoned at the cupboard and two chubby, smiley-faced teacups floated wobbly over to him, which he filled with another gesture of his hand.

“Let others be thankful for my original Christmas present, Valen took an instant liking to the idea. she went out for a walk and said she wanted to catch some fish for Fawkes …”

While he worked on these things, a few crochet needles remained methodically busy.

Hermione thanked him and went around to the other side to sit down, and that was when she noticed something unusual: the wool used to knit it wasn’t quite what she had expected, and the end of the thread extending from the crochet needles wasn’t a ball of wool, but the Book of Rune.

“Is this the … ancient runes?” She stared at the wool for a while before she realized that they are in fact made up of individual small-sized runes. She couldn’t help but be amazed.

“Well, um, what can you link it to?” Felix said expectantly.

Hermione gulped and thought hard, and before she could respond, a word had come out of her mouth. In her mind, the idea simply made too much sense and would perfectly explain the strange behaviour of the always lazy professor.





“An invisibility cloak?”

And by no means is it a thing with an invisibility charm cast on it, or woven from the fur of a Demiguise; what emerged from the depths of her mind is a sacred relic that is categorized under the category of Deathly Hallows, something she has been less resistant to since learning that the Resurrection Stone actually exists.

Of course, her thoughts aligned with Felix’s, that they were all made by wizards of great abilities.

Felix’s face beamed with a smile of appreciation.

“Geez, Professor! Did you crack the method of making the invisibility cloak? When was this happened, I’ve never heard Harry mention that you borrowed his Invisibility Cloak from him.” Hermione said in half excitement, half confusion.

“I haven’t borrowed it, from what I know of the Deathly Hallows, whoever their true maker is, it is clear that he keeps a very close eye on his knowledge and has no idea of making it available for the later generations to study. There is a powerful safeguarding spell placed on them … so I just had to find another way.”

Hermione held her teacup as question after question was thrown out.

“Is it intended to be used for invisibility?”

” Well, apparently not.”

“Oh …” Hermione muttered in a small voice, moving closer, her nose nearly pressed against the half-woven rune fabric, “The runes on this is so small it’s completely impossible to read… …”

“Use your instincts, Miss Granger.”

Hermione closed her eyes slightly, and after a long moment of seemingly sensing nothing, she couldn’t help but open them in defeat.

“I can’t do it, I’m not good at it.”

“Don’t rush into a conclusion, you’re probably not good at it simply because you’re being too rational and actively closing your mind off …”

“Isn’t it better to be rational?” Hermione asked, with frustration.

“There’s nothing wrong with being rational, and it doesn’t conflict with learning magic, but it’s easy to go wrong when you’re only rational. In fact, I’ve had similar problems …”

Hermione’s eyes lit up.

“So, Professor, how did you solve this problem?”

Felix cleared his throat.

“Maybe it’s because I wasn’t as stubborn as you were when I was a young boy, err, I mean well-read; or maybe I grew up with an unexplainable fantasy about magic and hoped for its presence in my world … or maybe it’s because my experiences in the years before I started school demanded me to cling to magic, in any case, it just happened naturally, a delicate balance of reason and emotion forged in me – or at least that’s what I hope. I’m happy and satisfied with that.”

Hermione first gave a disappointed look as the professor didn’t seem to say anything, then she suddenly remembered something and couldn’t help but reach up and cover her mouth.

She asked cautiously.

“Well, Professor … what does it feel like to have a magic riot? I’ve heard Neville mention it, but you don’t seem to be the same, one out of love and the other …”

“Oh, Miss Granger–”

Felix suddenly broke into a smile, as if he would soon reveal a great secret, with a bit of leap of faith and enthusiasm.

“I did have some not so wonderful experiences, but not all of them were bad.”

Hermione blinked, having trouble understanding the meaning of the words for a moment.

“Not, not all of them?”

“Yes. Even I had trouble separating the mixed emotions … it was too much for me at the time. But, Miss Granger. It only logical that all that dangerous time travel you’ve been through should play a part.”

—————

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