Chapter 1262 Solving the problem from the root
Voldemort had previously made a deal with the Dementors to get them out of Azkaban.
Dumbledore, being a man of great foresight, would certainly be wary of him recruiting other magical creatures.
Hagrid happens to have giant blood, making him the most suitable person to negotiate with the giants.
Harry quickly calmed down. "Hagrid, Voldemort is at Malfoy Manor."
"What did you say?" Hagrid's voice was extremely loud, and the dragon meat in his hand fell directly to the ground.
"Harry, you mean the Man of Darkness... he's at Malfoy Manor?"
Harry nodded silently.
Hagrid glanced at Ron, who was also silent, and said, "This is really...sigh..."
He bent down and pulled the dragon meat out of Ya Ya's mouth. "The Malfoys... well, they are indeed annoying, but..."
He sighed heavily again, his voice low and hoarse: "It's all Lucius Malfoy's fault, that slick, shiny slick guy... Never mind that, where's the child?"
Harry paused for a moment before realizing he was referring to Draco. "He... is very bad, like a different person."
“Yes, how good can it be?” Hagrid put the dragon meat on his eyes. “Not a single child, not a single family, should be dragged into that kind of hell.”
His voice choked with emotion, carrying a bitter resonance stemming from his own experience, "That feeling, that feeling of helplessness..."
He shook his head, his massive body trembling violently. "That feeling is worse than being hit by a giant's club; it's a cold that seeps into your bones."
Harry was trembling too.
Yes, that feeling was terrifying.
Ron also felt a bit of empathy.
Although Draco has a foul mouth and is an absolute nuisance, he doesn't deserve this much.
The thought of spending an entire summer in a house with Voldemort and the Death Eaters sent shivers down Ron's spine.
Hagrid looked at Harry, his other eye, which wasn't covered, heavy with helplessness. "Dumbledore has his reasons, I understand, keeping that devil in plain sight... but, alas..."
He sighed again, “Sometimes when I look at Aragog—oh, I mean, the little guys I raised later—I think that even the most annoying creatures are quite pitiful when they're cornered and trembling.”
He stopped talking, silently turned the fire dragon meat over, and continued to clumsily tend to his wounds.
The atmosphere in the hut became unusually heavy, and both Harry and Ron could clearly feel Hagrid's simple kindness.
His sympathy wasn't for the Malfoys, but for those trapped in darkness, like himself, unable to escape the shackles of fate for various reasons, and for anyone shrouded in Voldemort's shadow.
At that moment, Harry seemed to understand something.
The Draco family's plight is tragic and deserves sympathy, but there are countless families whose plight is far worse than theirs.
Unless the root cause of the problem is addressed, more tragedies will continue to unfold in the future.
Harry reached out and gently touched the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "Ron, Hagrid, I suddenly remembered that I have something very important to do."
While the two were still wondering, he had already left the hut and strode towards the castle.
"Professor!" A hurried shout came into the principal's office.
Dumbledore didn't pay attention to Harry's intrusion because he noticed that the other man's eyes were clearly different.
“Professor, I believe I am ready to destroy the fragments of Voldemort’s soul that he left inside me.”
Dumbledore's deep blue eyes revealed extremely complex emotions—sadness, pride, and deep pity.
He slowly stood up, walked around the small round table to Harry, and said, “I have often blamed myself for putting such a heavy burden on a child’s shoulders.”
His voice was soft and gentle, “But what I see in your eyes right now is not a child’s impulsiveness, but a man’s choice.”
The last trace of hesitation in his eyes vanished, replaced by the same determination as Harry's. "I know someone who is the most knowledgeable about dark magic in the world, and the only one capable of precisely controlling that spell."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. "That person...could it be Voldemort?"
Dumbledore's lips curled up slightly. "No, Voldemort sought power and immortality. His research motives and theoretical framework limited its depth, and his understanding of the Dark Arts was only superficial."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Professor, who are you talking about?"
Dumbledore did not answer directly. He walked to the shelf where the Sorting Hat was placed and took out a seemingly ordinary black travel cloak from the cabinet behind it.
"Put it on, Harry, we're not going to England."
After a few hours,
Dumbledore and Harry stood on a desolate cliff, with the turbulent North Sea below them.
On the way, Dumbledore kept fiddling with the magical communicator on his wrist, as if he were contacting someone.
"Buzz—" Dumbledore didn't check the messages. He waved the Elder Wand, tearing a shimmering purple crack in the air in front of him.
This is a large-scale detection spell deployed by the British Ministry of Magic. Ever since Vincent's incident, any wizard entering or leaving Britain will be detected immediately, but it is ineffective against wizards with high magical power.
They passed through the crevice and stood on the edge of the cliff.
"Professor, are we waiting for someone?"
"Yes."
Harry glanced at the churning seawater at his feet. "Is it the person you were talking about?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "It's not him. You know the person we're waiting for."
"I know?"
Before Harry could even wonder, a huge shadow loomed over him.
Dumbledore looked up. "He's here."
A white figure descended from the sky, landing precisely in front of the two.
Harry's mouth dropped open. "Vincent?"
Vincent lightly patted his Presbyterian cloak and glanced at the slowly healing crack behind them. "Long time no see, Harry."
He looked at Dumbledore and said, “Professor, Fawkes’s mode of movement should not be detected by the Ministry of Magic. You can go directly to Austria.”
Dumbledore smiled without saying a word, which made Vincent roll his eyes. "Wanting to ask for help but too embarrassed to ask, what a tsundere."
Harry didn't understand what he was saying at all, especially the word "tsundere," but judging from his expression, the person they were going to meet seemed to have a good relationship with him, while his relationship with Dumbledore... was terrible?
Would that person have refused to help if Vincent hadn't been there?
Such a complex web of interpersonal relationships… Harry quickly shook his head. “Professor, Vincent, are we going to Austria?”
“Yes.” Vincent gestured for it to come down, pointing towards the object hovering above his head. “Harry, let’s go now.”
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