Chapter 679
Heir?
Chapter 679 Heir?
In the stands, wizards from various countries exchanged shocked glances, their whispers spreading like ripples across the stands.
"Damn it! Could this be a fire spell?"
"It must be a trick by these British wizards. They deliberately concealed their strength in the first two rounds, waiting for the final fatal blow!"
"Whether we can win or not depends on luck... Perhaps our nation's warriors will be the first to touch the Goblet of Fire. We can't give up now!"
"That child is only fourteen years old...this level..."
“A hundred Galleons—I bet he’s an apprentice secretly trained by Dumbledore. You know, not your average school teacher-student relationship, but the kind of ancient mentorship, one-on-one, meticulous instruction…”
At the edge of the stands, a "middle-aged wizard" who had been smiling and looking quite content heard the discussion and slowly put away his smile, letting out a cold snort from his nose.
“Sir.” The wizard sitting beside him leaned closer, revealing Draene’s furrowed brow beneath his cloak: “Won’t this lead people to guess… his relationship with us?”
The middle-aged wizard sneered, "Let them guess. I'd like to see what they can do even if they do guess correctly."
Sunlight shone on his sharply defined profile, casting eerie shadows.
Antoine chuckled softly on the other end: "I think that when the truth is shocking enough, people will make up more plausible lies to explain it."
"if not……"
His gaze shifted, his voice laced with amusement:
"They need to consider whether the greatest black wizard and white wizard of our time have joined forces once again after a century..."
Hearing his frivolous and audacious words, Derain's eyes widened in shock, and his expression became much clearer.
He glanced at the "middle-aged wizard" and found that although his leader had a stern face, he was not angry at all, and there was even a faint smile on his lips.
De Laine fell silent, seemingly lost in thought.
Meanwhile, Fudge, the Minister of Magic, who had also heard the murmurs, sat on the judges' bench, his top hat brim already soaked with cold sweat.
"Merlin's beard..."
Fudge's lips trembled, his voice sounding like it was being squeezed from a steaming teapot, as countless terrifying images flashed through his mind.
In the past, Fudge knew that Dumbledore had no intention of becoming Minister of Magic. When he felt that the old headmaster was interfering with his position, he was filled with resentment and had several times thought about how to ruin Dumbledore's reputation.
But when he realized that Dumbledore seemed to have a different idea about power now, Fudge's eager claws instantly retracted, and only a chilling feeling rose up.
It's as if you're sitting comfortably in a high-backed chair, enjoying your lunch, while a terrifying beast is staring menacingly at your back with its scarlet eyes in the darkness.
When the French Minister of Magic leaned over and tentatively remarked, "Your young British wizards are truly impressive," Fudge gave a fake smile as if he had been struck by a petrification charm.
He watched the scene on the big screen where the spider's corpse was scattered by the wind, and a chill ran down his spine.
This seems to be the first time I've realized that if Dumbledore's students are all at this level, then what level can he himself achieve?
Perhaps it's time for him to step down from his position as Minister of Magic...
The thought suddenly surfaced clearly in his mind, and Fudge was so startled by himself that he hiccuped, feeling a strong sense of reluctance and unwillingness welling up inside him.
He frantically reached into his pocket, intending to pull out a piece of chocolate to calm his nerves, when Umbridge leaned in and said in a cloyingly sweet voice:
"Minister, don't you think there's a big problem with Hogwarts' educational methods? Perhaps the Ministry of Magic needs to... provide some special guidance... and some constraints."
She knew exactly what kind of advice her superior wanted to hear, and that Umbridge's own magical abilities were rather mediocre. Therefore, unlike some powerful wizards, she wasn't as keenly aware of the implications of the fire spell causing this situation. In her mind, the most powerful force in the world was always supreme authority.
But Fudge couldn't listen anymore. He weakly said to the young man behind him, "I need... I need a cup of hot cocoa..."
Percy Weasley, sitting behind the minister, stared blankly at the screen, frantically flipping through every book he had ever read, pondering what kind of modifications the Fire Charm had undergone to become so powerful.
When Fudge's trembling voice came, Percy paused for two seconds, then his body reacted before his brain, and he sprang up from his seat.
"Yes, Minister! I'll prepare it for you right away!"
Percy finished speaking with a stoop and quickly ran down from the platform.
Dumbledore then turned his gaze away from the mirror. He ignored the murmurs of doubt and probing, his eyes following Percy's hasty retreating figure. Looking at this former best student in the entire school, he let out a sigh that no one could hear.
He didn't think Percy's desire for power was wrong—who hasn't longed for the power to change the world when they were young?
But power is like a ravenous Dementor; if it is not tempered, it will never be satisfied. It will gnaw at the soul bit by bit until it transforms a person beyond recognition.
The young man was so excited that his face turned red. He bowed respectfully and handed the hot cocoa to Fudge with both hands. There was no trace of his former bright eyes, straight posture, and proud expression.
……
"Click."
Wade stepped on the charred leaves, making a soft, crunching sound under his feet.
The lingering warmth of the Flame Curse still surrounded the area, and occasionally a few sparks could be seen flickering, but the Forbidden Forest was shrouded in an eerie stillness, with even the faintest rustling sounds disappearing.
It seemed as if all the danger had vanished from his location in an instant.
Wade waited a few seconds before taking out his compass to adjust his direction and continuing to walk forward.
The compass points roughly straight to the location of the Goblet of Fire, but progress through the forest is extremely difficult. The path is frequently blocked by huge trees, and sometimes you encounter swamps or deep pits.
Wade glanced at the nearby bluebirds and sighed.
If he could transform into a peregrine falcon, the trophy would surely be in his hands... but for the sake of a single match, it's not worth revealing his Animagus identity.
The forest seemed isolated from the outside world. Vader twice used the Summoning Charm to summon a flying broom, but received no response. This, however, relieved him.
When it comes to flying, Harry and Krum are far more skilled than him. The inability to reach the finish line with a broomstick is actually an advantage for Wade.
After a moment's thought, he left the main road, stopped in a secluded spot, and then waved his wand, the aura of the spell spreading out like ripples on water.
In an instant, the entire area seemed to come alive, with countless materials beginning to wriggle and tremble!
Moss rustled off the tree trunks, thorny vines danced nimbly, unicorn tail hairs hidden among the dead leaves fluttered up, feathers of some unknown bird gathered swayingly, mushrooms on the ground released clouds of spores as they moved, and insect carapaces and pebbles began to roll around with a gurgling sound.
In the stands, someone exclaimed loudly—
"He's started making puppets again! That's not fair!"
(End of this chapter)