Chapter 131: Gellert's Epiphany
"Gellert!" Dumbledore's voice rang out from behind him, a clear trace of anger within it. It had been too sudden, just throwing the information out there like that. It wasn't what they had discussed. At least, Gellert only said it was a part of Voldemort's magic, not that it was a Horcrux, Dumbledore thought. What's done is done. He had to accept it. It wasn't as if he could cast a Memory Charm on Harry Potter.
"Is it true, Headmaster?" asked a very small Harry, feeling very, very nauseous.
At that moment, the two wizards standing at the pinnacle of the magical world were engaged in a physical struggle, pushing and shoving each other. They had no time for further words. Perhaps their wands were just for decoration.
Ryan stepped in to clear things up for his little brother-in-arms. "It's true. But, Harry, magic itself has no good or evil, no black or white. The real issue is the person who uses the magic."
"Of course, the concepts of Dark Magic and White Magic exist. But they are just classifications. You can't just condemn everyone who uses Dark Magic or praise everyone who uses White Magic. Because magic is just magic; the wizard is the fundamental factor."
Harry's voice rose. "But we study Defense Against the Dark Arts! Not Defense Against White Magic!"
At this, a certain phrase sprang unbidden from Ryan's lips. "I am the acting professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nobody—" he caught himself halfway through. With two former Dark Lords in the room, he couldn't exactly finish the sentence "knows more about Dark Magic than I do." He pivoted. "—Trust me, Harry. The name 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' is just a long-standing convention in the wizarding world. And while it's true that Dark Magic can damage the caster's mind to some extent, it doesn't mean that using it makes you an irredeemably evil person."
"Quite the opposite, in fact. Of all the Dark Wizards I've encountered over the years, very few of them greet you with a dark curse. They themselves know that prolonged immersion in the Dark Arts is bad for their sanity. The most common spells used by these so-called Dark Wizards are still ordinary spells, like the Blasting Curse or the Reductor Curse."
At that moment, Professors Flitwick and Flamel, two old gentlemen who clearly hadn't seen enough of the world, were utterly fascinated by the petty physical squabble between the Dark Lord and the White Lord. They were watching with rapt attention and had no time to explain such profound matters to young Harry. So, Ryan took it upon himself, extracting some of his own memories and showing them to the conceptually-shattered boy.
They were all scenes of encounters with Dark Wizards from his summer holidays or approved leaves of absence from school. And just as he had said, aside from a few who were already unhinged and greeted him with a respectful Unforgivable Curse, the vast majority of them opened with the standard three-piece combo of Blasting, Shattering, and Cutting curses. A small minority were more technical, preferring to use combination spells.
"This is all from my past combat experience. See? I didn't lie to you, did I?" he said.
Harry nodded, still bewildered.
"So, whether you want power or not, we have to turn that part of Voldemort's magic inside you into your own," Ryan said, striking while the iron was hot and getting the boy to sign the magical equivalent of an indentured servitude contract.
Harry: I voluntarily agree to become a special staff member of the Voldemort research group and to accept the education and cultivation of the other members...
Harry: Something about this feels... off.
That weekend.
"We will arrive at the Hogwarts main gate in ten minutes," Ralvin's message came through the Communicator.
"Alright. I'll wait for you," Ryan replied.
He was currently in the Headmaster's office. He used to be able to drop by at night for a chat, but not anymore. Now, two people lived there. And Nicolas Flamel didn't stay at the school; the man had his own luxury magic villa. Ryan had to return to Hogwarts after his evening tutoring sessions.
"From the vision in the prophecy, the event should take place around noon. I'll go with Senior Ralvin and the others to check it out. If you and Mr. Gellert have time, I'd suggest you come along as well." He thought back on all the useful intel he'd received this term and realized there wasn't a single problem he could have solved on his own. By convention, he probably couldn't solve this one either.
Not being able to solve it wasn't the biggest issue; that's what Memory Charms were for. The most critical problem was that a major tourist attraction like the Eiffel Tower would have constant surveillance, possibly with backups stored off-site. A wizard couldn't exactly cast a Memory Charm on a camera. It was a machine; it didn't subscribe to the laws of magic.
"It has been a while since I was last in Paris. I tried to set off some fireworks there once, but I was stopped," Gellert said, rummaging through a bookshelf in the office. His aged back showed no sign of stooping. Even though he was thin, one could still see the heroic and extraordinary bearing of his youth.
"If you want to set off fireworks again, I have a suggestion. You could try a different location. I recommend Mount Fuji in Japan. The kickback is much bigger," Ryan said with a cheerful, sincere smile.
"That place..." Gellert considered it. "It's not out of the question. Back in the day, I always thought those people were just unevolved monkeys, a devolved species from some uncivilized, barbaric land." He thought back on the actions of those Japanese wizards and decided Ryan's suggestion was worth considering. As for the opinion of the Japanese Ministry of Magic? Was that important? When a noble wizard lord says he'll kill their whole family, he kills their whole family. That was the unyielding spirit of a Dark Lord.
"Excellent. If you ever decide to set off those fireworks, be sure to call me. I'll be your assistant."
Even when speaking to Dumbledore, Ryan's use of the formal "you" was often tinged with irony. But this time, when addressing Mr. Gellert, the respect was genuine.
"Of course, of course. We'll connect on the Communicator when the time comes. By the way, Albus tells me you're very knowledgeable about Eastern culture. As it happens, I came across something yesterday that I didn't understand," Gellert said, picking up a book. The title was The Book of Documents, and the section he was reading was titled "Pan Geng I."
He read a sentence aloud in fluent Chinese: "If a fire starts upon the plains, and you cannot get near it, how can you possibly extinguish it? What is your understanding of this sentence?"
Ryan immediately recognized the famous quote. He explained, "Literally, it's describing how a fire in a field becomes impossible to approach, let alone extinguish. And since a fire on the plains starts from just a few sparks before growing into a great blaze, it gives rise to the saying: 'A single spark can start a prairie fire.'"
"A single spark... can start a prairie fire..." Gellert murmured, a thoughtful look on his face. "So, fire can also be like that." Tiny, scattered sparks, constantly accumulating, spreading from every corner, seeping in from all sides—
He stood there, holding the book, his eyes empty and unfocused. But deep within them, a blue flame flickered. It was different from before. The overt tyranny and destructiveness were gone, replaced by something more scattered and chaotic, yet it felt as if it could burn everything in the world to ash.
Ryan suddenly felt that something was very wrong with the old man before him. In his perception, Grindelwald had always been a step behind Dumbledore in magical mastery, a consequence of his long imprisonment. He had also lost the domineering, untamable, and supreme arrogance that one could read about in the history books—a quality Voldemort could never possess, as it belonged only to a Dark Lord who could command tens of thousands of followers.
But now—
For a single instant, Ryan couldn't feel Grindelwald's presence at all, as if he were just an ordinary old man with no magic. But in the next moment, he felt as if he were standing in an all-consuming sea of fire, a fire pieced together from countless, tiny sparks.
Omnipresent. All-pervasive. All-consuming.
He's having an epiphany! Ryan screamed internally. I'm reporting him to the mods! This is bullshit, the guy is hacking!
~~~
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