Chapter 720
Dawn
Chapter 720 Dawn
Grindelwald's expression stiffened slightly, then he tapped the ground with his cane and said:
"I think we all agree that the law is nothing more than a chain that binds geniuses to mediocrity."
“I used to look down on these things, but a child inspired me. After re-examining them, I discovered that… there is some very interesting logic hidden behind these seemingly boring clauses.”
He stroked his cane and chuckled softly.
"For example... casting spells in front of Muggles would be a serious violation of the Secrecy Act. But as long as their memories are properly altered, the penalty would only be a few Galleons..."
"For example, the law also stipulates that the rights of house-elves need to be protected, but 'voluntary provision of services and self-punishment after making mistakes do not constitute slavery.' See, isn't that interesting?"
Dumbledore gazed at him calmly, his eyes even carrying a hint of pity.
“Grindelwald… Perhaps the law is indeed not perfect, as you say, but its purpose is not just to restrain, but also to protect… to protect the basic order of this world.”
"If there are loopholes, then find a way to point them out and fix them, instead of trying to exploit them for personal gain and then mocking those who follow them for being so foolish."
Grindelwald suddenly burst into a low laugh.
"A deeply moving speech, Albus..."
"But if I remember correctly, in the past five years alone, you've published at least 23 papers pointing out 117 articles in the current law that need to be amended, and you've made amendment proposals three times at the Wizengamot conference... How many times has the Ministry of Magic adopted them? Shall I count for you?"
He gave a cruel smile.
"Corrections? Repairs?"
"How hypocritical, Saint Dumbledore!"
"Even though you know the bureaucrats won't even glance at what you write, you still comfort yourself by saying you've done your best, which is better than Grindelwald wanting to tear everything apart, isn't it?"
Dumbledore's expression turned ashen; he stiffened as if he had turned into a stone statue, his fingers trembling slightly beneath his robes.
Suddenly, a continuous crackling sound came from nearby.
Scrimgeour suddenly appeared with a group of Aurors. They ran to Dumbledore's side in a flustered manner, drew their wands in front of the group of sorcerers, but deliberately avoided Grindelwald's gaze.
Scrimgeour coughed lightly, his voice eight octaves lower than usual:
“Professor Dumbledore, Minister Fudge said… that we, that we came to your aid… that we must obey your every command… He said… he said… the future of the British wizarding world rests entirely in your hands…”
Of course, Cornelius Fudge's reaction wasn't that astute; he simply felt deeply that his shoulders couldn't bear the increasingly heavy burden, and he was determined to resign, and was making advances to the future Minister of Magic.
Whenever he recalled the minister's pathetic performance, even a tough guy like Scrimgeour felt his face burn, and he would stammer as he relayed his message.
However, their timing was truly ingenious. And Fudge's true intentions were so obvious to Dumbledore and Grindelwald that they could see right through him.
Grindelwald suddenly chuckled, a laugh that made everyone unconsciously tense up.
He waved his hand dismissively, saying, "The criminals of Britain can stay with the British Ministry of Magic. As for us uninvited guests, it's time for us to go home."
Grindelwald glanced at the boy in Dumbledore's arms, casually waved his wand, and a ball of pale blue light swirled and spread in the air, instantly obliterating any Marauders it touched. "This Auror, please give my regards to Minister Fudge... I'll visit him when I have time."
Grindelwald left with this light farewell and calmly stepped into the blue light.
As he left, the Aurors breathed a sigh of relief from the ruins, followed by the weak groans of the heavily wounded Death Eaters.
Scrimgeour glanced at Dumbledore for instructions, and under the headmaster's silent gaze, he waved his hand, ordering his subordinates to arrest the defenseless Death Eaters.
"I never expected McNeil... to be a Death Eater!"
As a short-bearded Auror tied up his colleague, he whispered in disappointment, "Your parents will be ashamed of you. And your wife and daughter... By Merlin's grace, you have ruined their lives!"
An awkward silence filled the air.
The Death Eaters were dragged off the ground, staggering and dazed, their eyes empty and lifeless, as they were bound by magical shackles.
Harry watched this scene unfold.
Seeing these Death Eaters, who had been so arrogant before, now looking like empty shells gnawed by Dementors, he felt no pleasure, but rather a dull, aching pain.
Perhaps it was what that Auror had said that made him realize that these people were not born criminals and executioners; they also had parents, lovers, and children, as well as family and friends to rely on.
He noticed that Lucius Malfoy was not among the Death Eaters being escorted, a discovery that made him unconsciously feel fortunate, before he frowned at his own reaction.
Just then, something in the corner of his eye caught Harry's attention—
A cluster of faint light, like a dewdrop, trembled and emerged from the leaf of a small blade of grass, eventually transforming into a stag the size of a firefly.
This tiny light beast, born later than its kind, treads lightly through the air, each step splashing up tiny specks of light.
In its short life, it enjoyed the thrill of speed, tirelessly traversing the battlefield, sometimes chasing the trail of light left by its own tail, sometimes stepping on the nose of a Death Eater, and sometimes skimming over treetops and rocks.
Harry's gaze involuntarily followed the free elf. As it ran past him, he instinctively reached out his hand, but his fingertips did not touch anything solid; he only felt a touch of warmth.
Just a dozen seconds later, the fawn's body began to turn transparent. It stopped at the edge of the wall, turned to look at Harry, its eyes like two drops of frozen morning dew.
As if in a fleeting moment, the fawn vanished, turning into a wisp of smoke and merging into the ever-brightening light of the sky.
As dawn broke in the east, a ray of sunlight pierced through the gloomy clouds and shone directly on the monastery's spire, where the drooping eyebrows of the broken statue at the top could still be faintly discerned.
"It's dawn, Harry."
"Dumbledore said softly, his voice sounding as if it came from a great distance, yet it landed clearly in Harry's ears."
"Let's go back."
(End of this chapter)