Chapter 184 Leaving Nurmengard

The sun shines brightly in Nurmengard, and the cool wind blows in the face. Who can tell that there were once corpses everywhere here?

This is the place built by the dark wizard Grindelwald to imprison those who oppose him. Now the only prisoner here is himself. It's not that he can't leave, but he just draws a line on the ground to make a prison.

What imprisoned him was never the prison, but something called "love".

For nearly fifty years, he has spent his time alone in regret.

The cold winter in Nurmengard is not as desolate as his heart.

But now, it's time to leave.

Grindelwald's ice-blue magic eyes are shining. He seems to have seen the future, and it seems that he has only seen the superficial things in front of him, but it can be seen that he is in a good mood, and a long-lost smile appears on his wrinkled face.

Vida has been waiting for him for a long time.

The new headmaster of Durmstrang is also reunited with Grindelwald after a long absence. She stood steadily at the door of the dark prison, and the two guards at her feet were unconscious.

"You look in a good mood." Vida Rosier wore a black military coat and a lady's dress, a black hat and veil on her head, and looked like a mourner attending a funeral.

Although her face had aged with the years, she stood there quietly at the moment, not like a withered rose at all, but like she had just bloomed.

"People can't live in pain every day." Grindelwald said softly, and his eyes stayed on the two guards who fell beside Vida, "You didn't kill them?"

Vida shook her head. Time did not make her kind, but it changed the dark wizard in front of her.

Now, they are no longer as radical as they were half a century ago.

"That's great," Grindelwald paused, "modify their memories-then destroy this place, we no longer need a prison to hold rebels. Time is a torrent, no one can stop-"

"They will know that you have left." Vida said hesitantly.

The only thing she was worried about was Albus Dumbledore.

Grindelwald's mind flashed with the bed sheet that he had torn into pieces, and he remembered the reply letter that had never appeared. His eyes flickered for a moment, and he slowly spoke:

"Just say that Gellert Grindelwald is dead."

Vida was surprised.

"Do you think he will believe it, or mourn for me?" Grindelwald asked sadly.

But he didn't seem to expect an answer. Then, under Vida's gaze, he walked out of the flat prison with the help of the wall and walked into the cool sunlight.

At this moment, Grindelwald's back suddenly blurred. Under the sunlight, he looked even darker, like an old silhouette.

But today, it will be a new life!

Vida quickly followed.

Slowly, another black shadow appeared beside her, and then the third, the fourth...

Finally, dozens of old wizards joined in and gathered into a half-rotten river.

The huge black curtain rose high in the wind, like a triumphal flag, covering the sky.

"We need new drops of water to strengthen our power." Grindelwald said softly, "Vida, have you done what I asked you to do?"

"You should know that I never let you down."

"Then let's start again." Grindelwald looked towards the direction of England and murmured to himself.

"We will meet again soon, Albus."

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts.

In the blink of an eye, another semester is coming to an end.

This semester Harry has experienced more things than the previous two semesters combined. He was captured by the Death Eaters twice, witnessed the resurrection and death of Voldemort, and after that battle, the wizarding world seemed to have returned to peace.

Voldemort disappeared, and Mr. Sellers also disappeared quietly after attending a dinner party at Hogwarts.

From March to June, a full three months, as calm as a summer afternoon, made Harry drowsy. He seemed to feel that what happened a few months ago had passed a long time ago, so long that it seemed like he had experienced several centuries, so long that it seemed like he had experienced a bizarre dream.

But he knew it was not a dream.

Because there was a spiral mark on his arm, like a wisp of swirling smoke, and like a tower.

Whenever Harry saw this mark, he seemed to be back in the blue flame. That day, the Death Eaters were divided into two sides, and those who chose to stand by Mr. Sellers left the same mark.

The only difference was that most people were in pain, but Harry was unaware of it.

He discovered the mark when he was about to go to bed after the dinner.

"This means that you have become his believer." That night, Ron analyzed confidently, "It's like the Dark Mark of the You-Know-Who, understand? Maybe one day, he will summon you like the You-Know-Who summoned the Death Eaters."

Ron even felt a little envious when he said this.

Think about it, an organization that fights against the terrifying Death Eaters and saves the world, just like the Order of the Phoenix more than a decade ago. It would be so cool if you could be a member of it!

Of course, Ron only considered the glory brought by a great cause, but ignored the sacrifice behind it. In contrast, Neville seemed very uneasy and unhappy after hearing this topic.

He would not have participated in this topic, but he still summoned up the courage to ask Harry.

"Harry, did you see a few Lestranges among the Death Eaters that day?" His chubby face was tense and as stiff as a stone.

Lestrange?

Harry certainly remembered it clearly.

He nodded and talked about the whereabouts of the three Lestranges.

"The woman named Bella followed Mr. Sellers, and the other two stayed with Voldemort. Voldemort asked them to kill Bella, but failed. Sirius was there!"

Neville stopped talking.

But Harry saw that there seemed to be fire in his eyes.

"What's wrong with you, Neville?" Harry asked with concern.

He remembered that Neville had never mentioned his parents, and now he asked about Lestrange again. Perhaps there was a connection between the two.

"I..." Neville's round face flushed red, tears welled up in his eyes, and the other little wizards in the same dormitory looked at him with concern.

He didn't say it for a long time, but others, especially Harry and Ron, suspected that Neville's parents were dead.

Harry had seen the cruelty of the Death Eaters.

Whether it was Voldemort, the madman, Barty Crouch Jr., or Peter Pettigrew, they had no scruples about killing a person.

"It's okay, Neville, you don't have to say it."

Ron patted Neville on the back, and Harry didn't know what to say.

Two of the three Lestranges followed Voldemort away, but there was one - the woman named Bella chose to go with Cyrus. Harry felt breathless when he thought that she might be the murderer of Neville's parents.

How could Mr. Cyrus let that kind of person follow him?

And himself -

He looked down at the mark on his arm, wondering if this was a betrayal?

Cyrus was fine, Harry knew that he was different from Voldemort, but what about those who defected from the Death Eaters?

How many people had died at their hands?

The next day, Harry told Ginny and Hermione about this knot.

"You don't have to care so much, Harry." Hermione said, "The important thing is that you have to understand who the real enemy is."

She looked at Harry with bright eyes: "I'm not saying that those Death Eaters have no sins at all, but in the final analysis, the source is the mysterious man. Now they have become a force against the mysterious man, which is also atonement."

"I also want to make a mark on my arm!" Ginny said angrily, "I am Cyrus's first believer!"

"We can all be!" Ron had already identified Cyrus as a friend when he received Cyrus' Christmas gift. What was important to him was not the gift itself, but that Cyrus could still remember that he had lost his pet. This small detail seemed insignificant, but sometimes it could win people's hearts.

"It's stupid to entangle these things. The real problem is, where are the mysterious man and the Death Eaters now!" Hermione was still rational. She opened the Daily Prophet, which still published news from several months ago.

- Azkaban Prison Break

"Look, there are so many Death Eaters, but not even one has been caught. The Dementors that roam all day have searched almost all over Britain, but they can't find any trace of them."

"Do you think they left Britain?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded seriously.

But Ron had a different opinion.

"Maybe they are hiding, a matter of traceless extension spell." He looked very experienced, and in fact it was true. Because of this spell, the Burrow is still spacious even if there are seven or eight children living in it. It just looks a bit shabby from the outside.

"I don't care where the mysterious man went, I just want to know where Mr. Cyrus went." Ginny said, she looked like she was going to find Cyrus and leave a mark on her arm.

"Maybe he left Britain too." Ron said, "It's not peaceful recently, you know Fudge,"

He looked like he was keeping it a secret, attracting the attention of the other three.

"It's Dad's boss, we met him in Hagrid's hut last year."

Harry certainly knew.

Last summer, when he ran away from home from Privet Drive, Fudge arranged a room for him at the Leaky Cauldron. He was also there when he overturned Sirius's case. So far, Harry has a good impression of Fudge.

"He released all the Dementors from Azkaban. I heard that the Aurors have been working hard during this period, but they can't catch the Death Eaters. Some people say that he has begun to arrest some dark wizards and put them in Azkaban as escaped prisoners." Ron shook his head jokingly.

"Is he crazy?" Hermione's eyebrows were tightly locked. Not only her, but Harry and Ginny also thought that this behavior was too much.

"He should give people an explanation." Ron shrugged, "I'm a little worried whether the Quidditch World Cup this summer can be held as planned."

The Quidditch World Cup held every four years is a grand event for the entire wizarding world, and this year it happens to be the turn of Britain.

Ron has been looking forward to it for a long time, but if it goes according to this situation, it may really not be done. After all, there are so many Soul Eaters roaming around outside, and foreign wizards may not be willing to take the risk.

After their conversation was diverted to Quidditch, the two ladies were not in such high spirits. Ginny doesn't care so much about Quidditch now. Even if it is a popular sport, it is just a sport after all. There are greater causes in this world!

——

"For the greater good..."

Dumbledore recited the vows he had made with his trembling lips. He held the edge of a letter in his pale and thin hand and held the table with his other hand. It looked like a crumbling gray tower about to reach the end of his life. The end.

This is a letter from Nurmengard.

The letter said that Nurmengard collapsed, and the tower became a tomb, burying the soul that he loved and stung.

Behind Dumbledore's half-moon glasses, tears blurred his blue eyes. It's not just the eyes that are blurred, but also the love that has been suffering over and over for fifty years.

He suddenly felt terrible.

Now, the face of Grindelwald in my memory is actually blurry. It was as if the encounter in Godric's Hollow nearly a century ago was just a sand drawing, and after being erased casually, there was no trace left.

From now on, no one will write to him continuously, just to get a response.

But soon, he buried this sadness deeply into the deepest part of his heart.

The constantly suppressed emotions gathered into an abyss in his heart, so much so that Fitzgerald's face on the wall was filled with worry. She even suspected that once the pain in Dumbledore's body was stripped away, he would immediately become another monster.

"You should stop suppressing your emotions, Albus," she reminded.

The more powerful a wizard is, the more likely he is to become an unstable factor.

The power of wizards comes from the magic of their own physical strength, but also from the strong emotions in their hearts.

"Don't worry, Fioni." But Dumbledore had regained his composure. He was a very rational person, and it was not his character to be swayed by emotions.

In other words, since he was young and impulsively committed an irreparable mistake because of his love, Dumbledore has been deliberately suppressing himself. The more powerful a person is, the more difficult it is to recover from his mistakes.

At least--

He believed in an afterlife.

"More than this, I would like to know how Cyrus is doing."

He spoke softly, but mentioning Cyrus at this time always made people feel like he was changing the subject.

"Since that dinner, there has been no news from him. I asked Ollivander and it seems that no strangers have bought wands from him recently."

At this moment, Cyrus, who was being talked about by Dumbledore, was standing under a green and curved giant tree.

The moonlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the snake tree and fell quietly on Cyrus.

A large curved snake was lying beside him, raising its head, wrapping around Cyrus's body, and quietly placing its small head next to Cyrus' cheek.

"Good evening, Nagini."

The snake hissed and stuck out its forked tongue, as if to express a friendly greeting.

Cyrus took a step forward and reached out to the thick ancient snake tree.

Then - the huge snake wood began to shrink, turning into a short wand like the collapse of quantum space.

This is another piece of Salazar Slytherin's legacy.

——Snakewood wand!