Chapter 114:

After midnight in Nurmengard, the lights in the auditorium gradually went out, leaving only blazing passion in the snow. But no one noticed that their principal had already left the meeting.

Dobby was still sobbing quietly. Dumbledore waited patiently for him to calm down before speaking: "Speak slowly, Dobby. What is Norway hiding?"

"Weapons, sir, a lot of weird weapons," Dobby pointed his finger in the air, and something appeared in the air. Weapon designs emerged one after another." The house elves were divided into different groups to process and cover various parts with magic. But Dobby found an opportunity to break into the weapons arsenal, and Dobby wrote down all the weapons in it for Mr. "

The elf raised his head proudly, as if something had burned a large piece of flesh off his chest, which is still smoking. Dumbledore knelt down and touched the wound, whispering a spell. However, under the powerful healing spell, the wound just stopped smoking and began to scar at an extremely slow speed.

Extremely lethal black magic.

There seemed to be a fire burning behind Dumbledore's half-moon glasses. The elf was embarrassed because the principal personally treated his injuries: "Sir, no, there is no need to treat Dobby. Black magic cannot kill Dobby. But, these things must be destroyed."

At this time, he still He was thinking about other things and had no regard for his own safety.

Dumbledore looked solemnly at the images Dobby presented to him. He is not stubborn like some wizards. On the contrary, he is extremely knowledgeable about many Muggle things. Muggles have great potential, and the things they invent can destroy others as well as themselves. If ambitious wizards mastered or even improved Muggle inventions...

he could not imagine the consequences.

The elf still looked at him unblinkingly, waiting for him to make a decision. Dobby risked his life to bring crucial news from Norway without even thinking twice.

Harry Potter trusts, loves and respects Dumbledore, so Dumbledore is also the person Dobby trusts and loves the most.

"Why..." Dumbledore looked at the shimmering images in front of him. Each weapon turned from a threat at the beginning to a silent temptation. He had to admit that for a moment, his former ideals began to reappear, and even appeared. A bud, "Gonna destroy them"

Ariana's scream suddenly brought him back to the cold reality. Dobby answered without hesitation: "Many, many elves think that the gods have blessed them with their current lives and their glory. But Dobby only sees harm," he pointed at the phantom in mid-air, even though he was facing There is no idea of ​​the power of these weapons. "It must be a bad god who created these. They will hurt Harry Potter, they will hurt Harry Potter's friends, and they will hurt many well-meaning gentlemen and ladies in the world."

Dumble Lido waved his wand, and the image of the weapon in mid-air turned into dots of light and disappeared. He closed his eyes and fell into a long thought. After a long time, he gently placed his hand on Dobby's head: "Thank you, Dobby. They will be destroyed... they will definitely be."

The elf was still immersed in being praised. In his joy, he said with more interest: "They are hidden underground in Norway. If Sir needs it, Dobby is willing to pay attention to it. Even if he helps Sir destroy these things!"

Dumbledore was able to learn from Dobby's clear words. Seeing his own reflection in his pupils, he realized for the first time how ugly he was: "No," he felt his voice was dry, "You return to Norway immediately, Dobby. Don't show anything abnormal, don't... do anything Do anything to hurt yourself."

He dared to believe that Dobby would really sacrifice himself because of his unintentional look or words.

"Dobby understands!" Even so, the elf was not discouraged. He kept his head held high, as if he had been assigned a particularly glorious mission. He still said happily the moment before he phantomed, "Dobby cannot be in person this year." Wish Harry Potter a Merry Christmas, sir, please tell him."

There was another violent explosion, and he apparated away.

Dumbledore stood alone in front of the window of the Headmaster's Office. Even the picture frames in the room were empty. Only Fox stood silently on his shoulder.

The snow is getting heavier and heavier.

Nurmengard is almost covered in snow. From a distance, the crumbling tower seemed unable to bear the weight of even a snowflake. The wind and snow poured into the empty tower top without restraint. The wooden door still stood silently in the snowstorm.

A pair of hands touched the seemingly fragile door again.

The door was pushed open easily, and the cold wind swept through the dilapidated and old room without any scruples. The whole cell looked even more desolate against the wind and snow pouring in from outside the door. There was only a wooden bed covered with a thin layer of ice and a tattered blanket in the cell. Little light filtered through the only window.

Dumbledore finally pushed open the door, and with it, decades of broken time. But this was the limit of what he could do - stand at the door and let decades of memories fill the cold cell.

Ever since he came in, a thin figure had been huddled in a corner of the bed, as if he was avoiding the cold or something more. But even so, his back was still straight. No matter how embarrassed he was, no matter how bad the conditions were, he could not shake his pride.

At least in front of Dumbledore.

The two pairs of eyes looked at the blizzard outside through the narrow window, as if they could reach a place that neither of them could reach again through the endless wind and snow.

"You're still here." Gellert Grindelwald's old and hoarse voice broke the silence in the room. His previous voice was full of energy and seduction. One wizard after another fell in love with his speech, willingly dedicating everything to a greater ideal.

Now under the old shell, there is only a dead calmness.

"It's all because of Norway."

He said it calmly, without any emotion, but both of them understood that every word was like a sharp sword stabbing each other.

The two of them planned too much during that long summer. At that time, the two young people were full of ambitions for a greater ideal, until death came into reality and tore the two of them to the two extremes. One is walking confusedly in the dazzling light, and the other is floating in the rich darkness.

Dumbledore closed the door, and the wind and snow stopped behind him. He was still standing in front of the window, unwilling to look at the figure on the bed.

A fire burned on the already dusty fireplace. For the first time in decades, this small and cold cell was illuminated by firelight. The light of the flames first reflected on the ceiling, then jumped to the entire pale and yellow wall, and finally spread throughout the room.

The top of the tower seemed to be directly on fire.

After a long time, maybe a minute, maybe an hour, maybe a day, the two of them remained speechless, and there was no need for words. The memories were enough to explain everything.

The strong wind is still howling, and the silence gradually pulls out the memories that are least wanted to be recalled. No one wants to get the answer here, at least not now.

The fire in the room flickered out, along with the light in those blue eyes.

Dumbledore's lips moved, but in the end he just took a step back.

Maybe coming here was a mistake.

"Someone designed the blueprints at that time. Avides is best at organizing people to keep secrets. Before the duel, I asked him to lead a group of people to open up a factory in a hidden tunnel in Norway," he said just as he was about to walk to the door. A voice blurred by the wind and snow sounded in the room, "Avides hid the tunnel entrance in Alesund. He must have used a lot of magic to cover it up, and even I don't know the specific location."

Dumbledore turned around and met those still blue eyes.

Decades of imprisonment cannot erase the light in those eyes.

"Destroy it." Grindelwald finally stepped off the wooden bed. Perhaps because of the severe cold, his left leg was lame, and he was holding something tightly in his hand.

This down-and-out old man seems no different from the once flamboyant blond young man.

He walked up to Dumbledore and forced the thing in his hand into his hand.

Those warm hands have also been tempered by the years.

His eyes never left those same blue eyes.

"Destroy it," he repeated.

Dumbledore opened his hand, which was an iron badge. The badge is shaped like a triangular eye with a vertical line in the pupil.

Grindelwald grabbed his hand so that he could hold the entire badge firmly in his hand: "Destroy that place," he seemed to subconsciously want to say his name, but he held it back. At first, his voice was as thin as a mosquito, and then Each word gradually became more sonorous and powerful, "Destroy it, don't leave a picture or a piece of paper."

He requested for the first time - asking Dumbledore to destroy the once great ideal.

"Then... take it with you," he once again held Dumbledore's hand firmly, letting the badge hold tightly in his hand, "take it with you and never leave your body for a moment."

He closed his eyes, His whole body seemed to be trembling with chills: "Albus, I have no more wishes."

He seemed to be referring to Norway, but also seemed to contain more.

He staggered as if he had lost his fulcrum, but was still unwilling to fall weakly in front of Dumbledore.

Crystal liquid flowed from the half-moon glasses when Dumbledore touched those hands.

"I promise you, Gellert."

The first time Grindelwald drew the symbol of the holy weapon to him in Godric's Hollow was to persuade him to embark on a journey to conquer death and achieve greater benefits, and the last time, He gave him the same symbol, perhaps just to commemorate that summer.

Repentance caused Grindelwald to fall from the altar, but it also allowed him to embrace the entire long summer he had missed.

The wind blew through the empty midnight streets of Hogsmeade, kicking up piles of snowflakes.

Midnight has passed, but Mu Yu has no intention of returning to the warm castle.

They sat side by side on the roof of the Shrieking Shack, with the lights of Hogwarts almost extinguished in the distance. Under the miserable moonlight, only a ferocious and blurry silhouette of the castle remained.

"The Ministry of Magic is very divided. The victory of the Muggle in America is determined. He claims that he will give us a surprise before summer." Tom Riddle gently stroked her hair. He was more like a venomous snake ready to attack. , he was still angry, but his violent anger was cooled by her, "I also plan to give the Order of the Phoenix a unique gift."

Before Mu Yu could respond, he continued: "After killing Potter, I will give Loyalty "You want him to kill Dumbledore."

"You want him to kill Dumbledore."

Del held her firmly in his arms. Mu Yu had always been able to grasp his thoughts, and he would no longer hide the joy caused by this: "By then, poor Minister Fudge should know the truth. It will be destined to go down in history. Dumbledore admires love so much, and I want him to witness with his own eyes how love can be turned into a weapon to destroy everything he has worked hard for."

She seemed unable to believe that he would use love.

"Whether we are pure bloods or lowly Muggle-born wizards, we have only two choices, either die with Dumbledore and his gang, or kneel on the ground and kiss our robes," he admired her surprise and leaned in close. She continued to whisper in her ear, "Yu, come with me to the Ministry of Magic, and you set a date."

He was not only retaliating against Snape's betrayal, but also waiting for an opportunity to give Dumbledore a heavy blow. He was gradually overcoming his fear of Dumbledore, but now was still not the time.

In particular, there is an interesting thing stored in Grimmauld Place.

But he said... we...

"I don't like being kissed on my robe at all, madman," Mu Yu took the initiative to lean against him. Even though it was cold enough in the middle of the night, this coldness was far from enough for her. She longed for it. Asking for more, "Thirteen, I like Thirteen."