newbobooks Chapter 186, page 185: The Giant's Tragic Death! The Malfoy Secret!
Chapter 186, page 185: The Giant's Tragic Death! The Malfoy Secret!
Chapter 186, page 185: The Giant's Tragic Death! The Malfoy Secret!
Grindelwald's words echoed through the office.
His expression was serious.
The tone was serious.
As a powerful prophet, Ian rarely has any secrets he cannot know, but the things surrounding him are making him feel that his talents are gradually losing their effectiveness.
This is not fatal.
But this greatly puzzled and intrigued the former leader of the wizarding world. In fact, he had always known that there was some secret between Ian and Dumbledore that he had sensed but had not yet fully uncovered.
all the time.
Grindelwald wasn't too concerned about this. He felt he would eventually see through the mystery surrounding Ian, but this mindset underwent an irreversible change a few days ago.
Faced with the gaze of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
"Gurgle~"
Ian first resisted his craving for the apple.
immediately.
"As you know, I've always been a popular person with many friends, even in the ocean. I just don't know what the woman you're talking about is called—"
He was trying to play dumb and fool everyone.
however.
Grindelwald, whose curiosity was already at its peak, was not going to let him off the hook.
"You know a lot more crazy women?"
Grindelwald was clearly surprised, his brow furrowed and his expression unusually strange.
"Forehead-."
Ian was speechless.
He dared not give any answer at all—to be honest, after hearing Grindelwald's experience and seeing the golden apple on the table, he knew perfectly well who his dark magic professor had encountered.
Looking at history and the present.
There are only a few wizards who can rival Grindelwald.
The kind of beings that Grindelwald could describe as "almost killed me" are obviously even rarer; if you search through the entire history books, you can probably only find such abilities among the legends.
Therefore, it is highly likely that Grindelwald encountered a terrifying witch in the past who, for unknown reasons, was ruthless and petty, cutting down golden apples all over the world.
"It seems you know who I'm talking about." Grindelwald had been observing the young wizard's expression, and he precisely caught a hint of helplessness in Ian's eyes.
"perhaps?"
Ian gave an uncertain answer.
"If you tell me the answer, this apple is yours." Grindelwald began his enticement, having noticed from the moment Ian's attention was fixed on the golden apple.
"I think Aurora needs this apple more than I do. She's too weak and needs to be nourished." Ian resisted the temptation of the golden apple. He knew very well that he didn't need the golden apple to increase his magic power right now.
The reason his eyes remained out of control was entirely because he was reliving the feeling of consuming the golden apple—the sensation of it melting in his mouth and then undergoing a qualitative change was an unforgettable and wonderful experience.
"You're quite generous."
Grindelwald's eyes narrowed involuntarily.
He sensed something unusual in Ian's words.
This only deepened his doubts.
"I really don't know what you went through, or why you think you were able to escape because of me." Ian once again chose to downplay the issue.
His honesty remains unchanged.
It wasn't that he was deliberately being ambiguous. Rather, all Ian could be certain of was who Grindelwald had encountered.
However, he was equally puzzled as to why Morgan, who was still alive, knew about him.
"That woman—that madwoman—left me with one last thing before she threw me away: 'Get out of here for the sake of that funny little pig.'"
Grindelwald's voice carried a hint of embarrassment.
Annoyed.
And helpless.
This was perhaps the first time such emotions had arisen within him.
"what?"
Ian was taken aback when he heard this.
"Why are these descriptive terms applied to me?"
Although hearing the familiar address at this moment made him 100% certain of Grindelwald's fate, he still felt somewhat surprised and resentful that Grindelwald was referring to him by that address.
"I think I know better than anyone which parts of my memories were forcibly accessed by others the longest!"
Grindelwald spoke with a hint of gritted teeth.
He has probably never suffered such a humiliation in his life.
"A distance spanning thousands of years, little one. You have old friends in such a place? Isn't your so-called popularity and connections a bit too far-fetched?"
Grindelwald laid his cards on the table, his deep eyes fixed on the young wizard—it was impossible to know how many times Grindelwald had tossed and turned in his sleep these past few days.
He dreamed about this question. If he didn't know everything about the little wizard's life from birth to the present, he would definitely suspect that this little wizard was some kind of old monster. The unreasonable speed of his magical growth and his understanding of magic seemed to be some kind of old wizard in a state of "amnesia" regaining the knowledge and power he once had.
"I don't know, Professor. Perhaps what you're talking about hasn't happened yet, so of course I wouldn't know." Ian spread his hands on his watch, looking quite frustrated.
This is a half-truth, half-false expression.
He did have such a guess, but he didn't say anything about what he knew about Morgan, and he didn't even want to mention his relationship with Morgan.
The less trouble, the better.
Just play dumb and that's it.
The dark magic professor before her was someone who had offended Morgan. And choosing between her beloved teacher and her respected professor didn't require much thought.
It has nothing to do with feelings.
It's only related to cost-effectiveness.
It's less harmful to anger Grindelwald than to anger Morgan.
On one side is someone who has already been brutally beaten, and on the other side is someone who can beat Grindelwald up along with him. Even if you dragged Hagrid's dog, Fang, over here, Fang would know how to choose.
"If I understand correctly, you're telling me that you might travel back in time sometime in the future, forge a friendship and bond with a legend thousands of years ago, and you're not even a little surprised that this could happen, as if you've heard something completely ordinary?"
Grindelwald gave a cold laugh.
His face was all about whether I believed him or not.
Yes, that's right.
Ian nodded quickly.
"Of course I was shocked, very frightened, or you could say uneasy, but I just didn't show it." He made an excuse for not updating his facial expression in time.
"This is actually related to the fact that I'm so shocked that I'm numb. You might not know, but just now, because of Professor Dumbledore's mistake, I accidentally traveled back to almost a hundred years ago."
"I even met a young Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts back then, and good heavens, he even fought with me. I'm still not over it."
The little wizard patted his chest, still looking quite shaken.
Finally, a belated look of lingering shock appeared in his eyes.
And in response to his performance.
Grindelwald, who had been watching the little wizard's performance with a half-smile, paused for a moment, then suddenly widened his eyes and flashed a sharp light.
"Good, good, good! After most of my life, I've finally caught who's been slandering me! They learned to launch sneak attacks from me, didn't they? Using the 'Life-and-Death Water' to stab people in the groin is my teaching, isn't it?"
His ever-changing expression now showed an even more furious look, his teeth clenched in anger.
I can tell.
Ian's casual remark in the past may have caused Grindelwald considerable trouble; who knows how much more detail was added to his feud with Dumbledore.
It was only then that the young wizard realized some problems.
"I was just saying you've always wanted to take me on as an apprentice, and I'm not trying to fool Dumbledore—" Ian tried to explain, but then he saw Grindelwald start searching the table for his wand.
That angry look on his face.
It's terrifying, like they're about to "clean house."
"!!!"
Upon seeing this, Ian immediately turned and ran—not because he was afraid of fighting Grindelwald, that was a secondary reason; his main purpose was to use this opportunity to escape the Dark Arts professor's questioning.
This is not.
In the blink of an eye.
Ian dashed out of the classroom, turning into a puff of white smoke and hurtling towards the Room of Requirement. Meanwhile, Grindelwald, having found his wand, looked up to find that Grindelwald had already run into the Room of Requirement and set up thirteen ambushes.
Such speed.
Most wizards would probably be far behind.
"It was all Headmaster Dumbledore's fault for putting me in such a stressful state." Ian breathed a sigh of relief when Grindelwald didn't catch up for a long time and began to wash up in the Room of Requirement.
Well, how should I put it?
In fact, Grindelwald never even considered chasing after them.
I really want to take action.
He no longer needs to search for a magic wand.
"Agomot... Morgan... Morpsos Enzo... Ravenclaw... Slytherin...
Perhaps there are still many goals I haven't found yet—
After Ian left, Grindelwald sat back down, his anger vanishing instantly.
Instead, we must engage in deep reflection.
He had already obtained the information he wanted from his conversation with the young wizard.
Although not as clear as expected.
But that was enough for him to figure out a clear pattern.
"To fool fate requires the participation of great men and prophets, and what a scene it must be if so many legends are involved!"
Grindelwald murmured softly.
After a while.
He suddenly chuckled softly.
Their expectant gazes fell once again on the golden apple on the table.
"Regardless, Albus's audacious attempt certainly opened the door to history. As for me,"
Perhaps it has already alerted him to a forbidden corner that he may not even be aware of.
The whispered words were full of interest.
obviously.
Grindelwald carried Dumbledore on his back.
He had undertaken more than one secret solo journey. He knew, of course, that such actions might separate him from Dumbledore once again, but he also understood that he could not stop his search.
This is a temptation that no prophet could possibly resist.
Morning has arrived.
A gentle bluish-purple hue had just appeared on the horizon.
The stars had not yet completely disappeared, and the first rays of sunlight were quietly weaving between the castle's spires and towers, casting a faint golden glow over the magical academy.
The air was filled with a faint fragrance of magic potions and the fresh scent of ancient stone bricks.
The young wizards walked through the corridors.
Everything seemed so peaceful yet full of life. Ian also stepped out of the Room of Requirement after washing up, but he did not go to the Great Hall for breakfast immediately.
"As expected, someone discovered it." Ian's gaze swept over the winding corridors and the floating candles, finally settling on the quiet corner where he had encountered Ririm last night.
A small group of young wizards had already gathered there.
I have returned from the dead!
Bright red handwriting.
It certainly attracted a lot of attention from young wizards.
And Hagrid, that big guy, was also there maintaining order by the wall.
"What happened here?"
Ian walked towards Ian with some confusion. Of course, he had already seen the writing here, but his Black Phoenix had been on guard all night and had not found anyone killed.
Since nothing unexpected happened.
Why would Hagrid be here trying to disperse the crowd?
"You little brats, can't you get ready for class? I already told you, this is just a prank." Hagrid was still trying to drive away the little wizards who were watching.
however.
The young wizards, however, did not believe it.
"I don't believe it! The owls have all been scared away!"
"Yes! My Marilyn was trembling with fear in my bed last night! She's a fearless cat; she'd even kiss Professor Snape's shoes!"
"There must be a monster! My Panpan! My poor Panpan has been eaten! Waaah!"
Both upperclassmen and lowerclassmen were muttering.
Ian also saw Ron sobbing uncontrollably, as if he were heartbroken. The red-haired Weasley, who had just enrolled, was sitting dejectedly on the ground, his face filled with grief.
"From childhood to adulthood, I finally obtained something that could truly belong to me, and now it's gone. What's the point of my life anymore?"
Ron had a desperate expression on his face, as if he might jump off a building at the slightest provocation.
His twin brother comforted him with a hint of disdain.
"What! Your rat is gone?" Ian clutched his bag full of last year's stockpiled "food" and leaned over, his expression even more unwilling to accept reality than Ron, who had lost "half of his fortune".
"Yeah! Squeak squeak squeak! My mouse is gone!" Ron saw that Ian cared about him even more than his brother, and immediately thought that he had found someone who could empathize with him.
He tried to shift his weight a few times to get closer and hug Ian's leg.
The little wizard nimbly dodged it.
"Someone said they heard a mournful sound coming from the sewers yesterday. I think some kind of magical creature has broken into the school, and it's the kind of magical creature that eats rats."
"A rat's lament isn't that loud. I think it was Snape who got dragged in and eaten. Ian, please accept my condolences. Don't forget to call us when you inherit the fortune."
"But I think that sound was like the wail of some large creature. Of course, it must have been that creature that ate Snape, and then it was eaten by an even more powerful creature."
George and Fred were analyzing the situation, each taking turns saying a sentence.
They still hated Snape just as much.
"Could it be that it's run away? I can help you look for it!" Ian, being very helpful, reached for his Marauder's Map, hoping to catch Scabbers and conduct experiments that might result in scenarios like "I don't know," "I thought it was a mouse," "I really didn't know it was a person," and "We're all trying to live."
Just as Ian reached into his purse...
"Mr. Prince, I think I should also apologize to you. My offense to you and your friend yesterday was truly outrageous and foolish."
Malfoy, with his full head of platinum blonde hair, suddenly squeezed next to Ian.
He bowed deeply to Ian, his tone sincere. For some reason, the brat's two lackeys were not with him at this moment.
"What rumors did Wen hear?"
Ian sensed Malfoy's inner fear and unease.
"No—no—I—I just genuinely feel that I did something wrong." When Malfoy raised his head, it became clear that both sides of his face were swollen.
I don't know who slapped me a few times.
"Really, that's it. I've repented. I've realized my flaws, and I want to start anew." Malfoy felt even more nervous under Ian's gaze.
His expression stiffened, and he didn't dare make eye contact with Ian.
"Do you know what happened here?" Ian didn't care about Malfoy's inner thoughts; he was just very interested in what the young wizards were discussing.
"I--"
Malfoy seemed to want to say something but hesitated.
"I don't know much about it."
He hesitated for a long time, finally managing only to shake his head frantically. His somewhat guilty expression made the young wizard glance at him sideways, and Ian's suspicious gaze made the guy even more flustered.
"I'll go and ask around for you."
As he spoke, Malfoy began to push his way into the crowd.
Ian noticed this, somewhat bewildered.
As he turned around, he deliberately reached into his robe and then tossed it at Ian's feet, glancing back several times as if afraid Ian hadn't noticed.
You dropped something.
Ian helped Malfoy pick up the delicate little cloth bag.
"what?"
Malfoy visibly relaxed after discovering that Ian had picked up something.
but.
In response to Ian handing over the small cloth bag.
He, however, behaved strangely.
"It wasn't me who dropped it! Yes! It really wasn't me! I don't know!" After frantically waving his hands and shaking his head while lying through his teeth, he quickly squeezed into the crowd and ran frantically toward the stairs.
"What the hell?"
Ian followed them out of the crowd.
But he discovered that Malfoy had already run far away. After falling down the stairs, he used both hands and feet to climb up, and disappeared from his sight in less than half a minute.
"Is this an attempt to frame me? Or a bribe?"
The little wizard curiously weighed the small cloth bag in his hand.
The bag was opened.
The sun shines down.
A reflection was faintly visible within it.
Slytherin Common Room.
Boys' dormitory.
After running back to his dormitory at full speed, Malfoy first closed the door, lay down on the bed, and gasped for breath for a while. Then, with an anxious and worried expression, he got up and walked to his desk.
"Is this really okay? Won't he think I'm trying to harm him—I've already heard that if I really anger him, my parents and my ancestors will all be doomed!"
He slowly wrote a line on an old diary.
It doesn't look very thick, and the date printed in ink on the cover has faded a bit, so it's unclear how long it's been sitting there. Apart from that, there's nothing else on it.
And so Malfoy wrote down his words.
The magic of this diary is beginning to show.
The boy's handwriting disappeared quickly.
After a while.
"Dumbledore and the professors are unreliable. You and I can only rely on this special little wizard. You might even receive a special contribution award for your help to him."
"Just like I used to be." A line of writing began to appear on the diary, which had been neatly restored, as if an invisible person was writing with ink.
"This is about dealing with someone whose name can't be revealed! And all I want is a chance to live!" Malfoy, however, was completely unfazed by such seduction.
His face was pale.
Feeling quite uneasy, he wrote down another line.
This line of text also disappeared very quickly.
After a while, the diary still didn't respond.
Just when Malfoy thought the mysterious figure in the diary wasn't going to reply anymore...
"Who doesn't want to live?"
A sentence suddenly appeared in the empty diary.
"Voldemort was a madman, but I am not."
The faint ink marks spontaneously connected together.
It displayed for a few seconds.
Vanished without a trace.