Chapter 236: Is This Reasonable?
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Figures on flying brooms shot quickly through the clouds, heading toward the distant, northern expanse of the Norwegian Sea. Over the vast, open water, a cold wind howled, striking their faces and making them shiver.
Lockhart drew out his wand and cast a warming spell for the three young wizards. As he looked around, he realised that many witches and wizards had not relied on traditional flying brooms for their journey. Sometimes, you truly had to step outside your usual circle to see the world in a new light.
Dumbledore flew on a Thestral, Ministry officials rode in a massive train carriage pulled by a dragon, and some even brazenly rode on flying carpets which the Ministry had long since outlawed. There were also butterfly-sized pixies spitting bubbles that encased wizards, seemingly moving at a leisurely pace while actually streaking by at an astonishing speed…
The Ministry of Magic had deployed a large portion of its staff for this operation. The attack outside the Wizengamot courtroom and the appearance of a "stand-in" for Sirius were undoubtedly a provocation against the Ministry and a flagrant violation of the Statute of Secrecy. They had to strike back hard! If Dumbledore had not insisted that Fudge leave a contingent behind to protect the Ministry from a surprise attack, Fudge would have been reckless enough to mobilise his entire force.
But Fudge was Fudge. Instead of just sending out his most powerful Aurors, he contacted the Ministries of Magic in other countries, requesting a joint investigation. Since the affair involved Muggles, everyone had to be cautious.
As the Floo Network fireplaces and Portkeys of various Ministries were activated, more and more wizards began to gather over the Norwegian Sea, speaking a cacophony of different languages. It was then that Lockhart truly understood the value of Ancient Runes he could communicate seamlessly with most of the wizards from every country.
Or, to be more precise, with the vast majority of the wizarding world's leaders and Ministry officials. Ancient Runes was an elective at every magical school. While it seemed only a handful of witches and wizards chose to study it, anyone who intended to make a real impact in their magical field or delve into more profound knowledge found it to be an essential subject.
Ministry officials, for instance, were required to use Ancient Runes to sign all of their most important documents, as no other language was better suited for magical papers; the runes themselves contained a certain magical power.
As more and more wizards appeared, word spread, and witches and wizards from nearby countries came to join in the fun. For some, the sight of so many of their kind operating in the Muggle world was a joyful occasion, a breaking of old barriers. Some wizards even treated the mission as an interesting social event, gathering in groups to chat as they raced toward a specific spot in the ocean. For a time, it was quite a spectacle.
Suddenly!
"Careful!"
Someone shouted, peering through the window of a magical carriage and pointing into the distance. Not just one person, but many began to cry out, drawing everyone's attention. They saw long, shell-like objects dragging fiery tails flying at incredible speeds towards the crowd in the sky.
"Is that a Muggle weapon?" a wizard laughed, confident that he could easily avoid the impact with a swift turn of his broom.
"I know! That's a missile, a weapon the Muggles are proud of, but it's completely useless against us!" another wizard declared, seemingly knowledgeable but utterly clueless, his voice dripping with contempt.
The missiles, however, didn't care what the wizards thought of them. With a flight speed exceeding Mach 2, they arrived in an instant. The small, flying sticks they had seen from afar now looked like the trace of the Grim Reaper's scythe.
BOOM!
One missile struck a pumpkin carriage in the sky. The violent roar, the high-speed debris, the terrible heat wave, and the exploding flames instantly engulfed all the wizards in the vicinity. Death appeared before everyone so quickly. Before the wizards could even react, more missiles erupted from the depths of the sea, launching a full barrage of ship-borne weapons in the first possible moment.
"Repel them with all your might!" "Stupefy!" "Protego!" "Impedimenta!" "…"
Thankfully, the ranks of those merely along for the ride were few. The wizarding world's most powerful stepped forward, preventing the missiles from causing any more casualties. Lockhart didn't need to act, as a massive bubble had appeared in front of him, protecting him, Snape, Harry, and Grindelwald. A piece of rapidly flying shrapnel struck the bubble, squeezing it to the point of bursting, but it held.
"A Bubble-Head Charm?" Grindelwald looked at the bubble with a curious expression, then turned to Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Though his opinion of the man as a buffoon hadn't changed, he was intrigued that such a simple charm could be cast so effectively.
Fudge offered a sycophantic smile. "Gilderoy taught me. He said I was particularly suited to this kind of magic."
Grindelwald's eyebrows lifted slightly as he looked at Lockhart with interest.
Lockhart, however, was frowning and staring into the distance. He turned back with a sigh. "We've fallen into a trap. He doesn't care how many wizards these Muggles kill, and he doesn't care about the outcome of this battle. He just wants Muggles to attack wizards, and wizards to attack Muggles!"
Snape sneered from nearby. "It seems he must be very weak right now."
Lockhart looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"This isn't something he would do. It's not his style," Snape said, his voice full of ridicule and contempt. "He's only willing to accept other people's advice when he's weak."
Lockhart blinked, and suddenly understood why Dumbledore held such great hope for Snape, far more than for Lupin, Kingsley, or McGonagall. It wasn't just because Snape could be a spy; more importantly, Snape, who had been personally taught to fly by Voldemort, probably understood him better than anyone.
Voldemort's maddening, underhanded tactics and bizarre magical abilities sometimes had to be countered by someone who knew him well. Perhaps Dumbledore had shown Lockhart some favouritism because he, too, understood Tom well, especially after writing such a thick and meaningful biography for him.
"Who is he?" Fudge was bewildered by their conversation. He looked around at the chaos as the wizards began to fight back. Suddenly, he sucked in a sharp breath. "Someone wants to incite a war between wizards and Muggles?!!!"
Grindelwald smiled faintly as he watched the scene, seeming quite pleased. If the wizarding world's internal power couldn't be united, then some external force would be needed. He wouldn't have to preach to them about preparing for the terrifyingly advanced Muggle technology; they would come together spontaneously.
The change brought about by these ship-borne missiles would be far-reaching, perhaps even becoming a turning point for the entire era. He looked at Gilderoy Lockhart, who was making a fuss with Fudge, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.
He could see it. Gilderoy didn't care at all whether a war would break out between Muggles and wizards. He was a truly fascinating wizard who stood on neither side. What he cared about was the excitement of life and the adventure that lay ahead.
A war could be an adventure, as could a tense standoff that changed the social landscape, or even the quiet transformations that occurred beneath the surface. You could call him selfish, but not really. Lockhart genuinely cared for those close to him. Grindelwald mused that if he'd had Lockhart's knowledge in his youth, he wouldn't have bothered teaching magic from scratch, as it was an incredibly time-consuming task. But Lockhart clearly enjoyed it.
It was a unique trait that fit his character perfectly: to care about everything around him and see an adventure in every moment. In their time together, Grindelwald finally understood the logic behind Lockhart's actions.
How did the young man put it? Ah, yes—"I yearn for passion!"
So interesting.
But apparently, some people did not yearn for passion. Dumbledore took action. Seated on the back of his tall Thestral, he raised the Elder Wand high and whispered ancient runic spells. In an instant, the sea began to churn, and the waves grew immense. One wave after another, soon reaching a hundred metres high, crashed towards the distant ships. No matter how large or heavy the warships were, they were lifted high by the increasingly ridiculous waves and thrown into the air.
Then, the ice and snow instantly solidified. The waves holding up the warships quickly froze, forming a gigantic iceberg. Even higher waves struck it, making the ice mountain larger and freezing all the machinery on the ships. Every radar, every observation mirror, and every facility was encased in a thick, magical layer of ice.
For a moment, the entire ocean was abnormally loud. For a moment, the entire ocean was eerily quiet. All the wizards stared blankly at the sight, watching such a magnificent iceberg created so magically before them. Some wizards couldn't even cast a proper Shield Charm. Watching this scene felt like witnessing a miracle.
"Now, are you still accusing Dumbledore of secretly building an army?" Mad-Eye Moody, the retired Auror who had come along, looked at the tense Scrimgeour with a teasing expression and chuckled softly. "Do you think… Dumbledore would really need an army to take down the Ministry of Magic?"
Don't ask.
Don't ask.
Scrimgeour was truly at his wits' end. His mouth twitched uncontrollably as he remembered the "Thunderstorm and Wildfire" spell that Lockhart had cast before—another spectacular and terrifying display. He suddenly felt incredibly small.
Blast it all!
What was wrong with these people? How could they be so powerful? They were both wizards, so why was the gap between them bigger than the gap between him and a Muggle? Is this reasonable?
Scrimgeour was utterly despondent. Then, when he spotted Lockhart among the countless figures, he felt even more desperate. This young man, this newly-minted master of magic, was shaking his wand, looking as if he were studying the events with a serious expression.
Are you serious, mate?! You're already this powerful, and you're still learning? This… this just makes a person feel even more hopeless.
Scrimgeour looked up at Dumbledore's spell, watching the entire sea as if it were a washbasin being held and shaken by a child. He watched the massive waves crash against the iceberg, constantly making it larger. But what made him even more desperate was that he had no idea how Dumbledore had done it. He couldn't even begin to learn. As the saying goes, experts see the details, while laymen only see the excitement. He, a wizard who considered himself an elite, had turned out to be a layman?
It was unacceptable!
But he had to accept it! When he had only thought that Dumbledore was a little more powerful than him, he would dream of getting rid of him to make the Ministry great again, to allow the British Ministry of Magic to achieve centralisation before the American Magical Congress and catch up in this undercurrent of competition. But now, he finally realised that the gap between wizards could be so utterly preposterous.
Dumbledore was simply a god! At that moment, he felt that the British Ministry of Magic simply could not do without him.
Finally… as the sea surface was completely frozen, all the wizards followed Dumbledore onto the ice and began to walk towards the Muggle warship on top of the iceberg. Dumbledore's face was dark. He watched as the Muggles on the warship stared at them in horror, seeing some of them draw their guns without hesitation to prepare to shoot. He simply gave a cold snort. The seawater that had been meandering down the iceberg like a small stream suddenly shot back up like a tidal wave, completely freezing them in place.
Old Dumbledore was truly angry.
In a corner of the crowd, Grindelwald chuckled. "Look at you, talking about being old and tired. You don't look tired at all. If you ask me, we need a little excitement to keep life interesting."
Lockhart walked beside him with a strange expression, keeping a bit of a distance, worried that Dumbledore might overhear and splash them with blood. He pondered for a moment, then suddenly had an idea. He looked at Fudge, who was visibly nervous, and whispered, "You might want to ask someone to take a look. There might not be only Muggles on that warship."
Fudge's eyes widened, his gaze suddenly filled with a sharp glint. He thanked Lockhart and quickly hurried towards Scrimgeour. Soon, the Aurors from the British Ministry of Magic quickly overtook Dumbledore, charging forward. They knew they could no longer hide behind Dumbledore and wait for a powerful wizard's protection. Dumbledore had already come this far. If they still failed to move forward with courage, they would be looked down upon forever.
By the time everyone boarded the warship, the scattered battles had ended. Everyone on the ship was brought to the deck, with the Muggles separated into one group and the wizards into another. Yes, there really were wizards! At this point, the leaders from the various Ministries of Magic became agitated. Some whose forces had been attacked by the missiles shouted that these traitors should pay with their lives.
Dumbledore glanced at them impassively but ultimately ignored them, turning his attention to Sirius, who was being led out. With a flick of the Elder Wand, a black smoke exploded from Sirius's body and dissipated. His once-confused eyes became clear, and he shouted excitedly, "Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore patted his shoulder, then turned to look at the warship and the iceberg below it, remaining silent.
The clarion call of a new era…
It had blown quietly!
He could foresee the kind of changes that would soon occur in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. This was something he absolutely did not want to see. He knew this day would inevitably come, but he had hoped that when it did, that lunatic Voldemort would not still be alive, still leaping around and causing chaos.
Perhaps… it was time to announce to the world—Voldemort has returned!
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