Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 947 Blue Flame
The three wizards who were hit head-on by the blue flames didn't even have time to scream!
Their bodies, wands, clothes... everything was silently burned to ashes the moment they touched it, turning into wisps of smoke with a burnt smell that drifted into the sky on the night breeze.

The others screamed in terror and retreated rapidly, and the encirclement collapsed in an instant.

Even Fontana grabbed Leila and quickly retreated, his face showing unexpected astonishment and horror for the first time.

The eerie blue flames gracefully swirled in the air, not pursuing the others, but instead whooshing around the area, igniting all the surrounding trees and creating a shimmering blue encirclement of flames.

"Come on!"

Suddenly, someone let out a heart-wrenching scream, and recklessly spun around in place, activating Apparition!

"boom!"

He vanished with a deafening explosion, without Fontana's stern shout: "Stop! Don't move!"

The others barely managed to stop their spells, and several of them fell to the ground with a thud.

In the blink of an eye, another explosion rocked the area. With a deafening blast, the person who had just moved away reappeared nearby, just like Hawthorne had before.

But this time, he accidentally fell very close to the blue flames. As he stood up, a look of horror appeared on his face, and then he was engulfed by the flames.

Everyone watched as the eerie blue flames, as if possessing a life of their own, swept over the man, leaving him nowhere to escape; they watched as he futilely stretched out his arms in his dying moments, his mouth wide open, as if pleading for help, or perhaps confessing.

In the blink of an eye, the figure disappeared, and the blue flame suddenly rose up and then receded, as if it had let out a burp, exhaling a puff of green smoke.

Dead silence.

This time, it was a truly deathly silence, as if even heartbeats had frozen.

The firelight reflected on their faces, which had been so smug not long ago, making them look pale and ashen, revealing the fear they couldn't hide in their hearts.

Suddenly, the wall of fire surrounding everyone surged and formed an archway. A tall and slender figure slowly passed through the archway and entered the circle of flames.

He wore a long robe of silver and black, his silver-white hair fluttering slightly in the wind, his face carrying an elegant and handsome air that had weathered many storms yet remained sharp, along with a hint of amusement and coldness.

—Gellert Grindelwald.

Time seemed to freeze when that face, which had once symbolized terror and death and cast a long shadow over the American magical community, appeared before us.

Everyone seemed frozen in place, forgetting to breathe, their hearts pounding, their pupils dilating in terror, yet they couldn't even lift their wands.

Grindelwald slowly turned his eyes, his gaze lingering on Lyra for a moment longer, a barely perceptible hint of mockery flashing across his lips. He then paused briefly on Fontana and Serafina, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Finally, his gaze shifted to Hawthorne.

"What a show."

He gave a cold smile and said, "Thank you all for such a wonderful performance... but this farce should end here."

Grindelwald scrutinized the man, whose brows were furrowed and whose facial muscles seemed taut, and after a moment, calmly said:
“Nickloo Hawthorne, now that things have come to this, do you want to stay here and wait to die, or... come with me?”

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone's expression changed drastically. Lyra subconsciously took two steps forward, as if to stop him, but after Grindelwald gave her a cold glance, she froze and could no longer lift her feet.

She looked to Fontana for help, only to see the headmaster of Ilfamoni standing there, sweating profusely, while Grindelwald looked at him with a half-smile, as if expecting him to say something.

Fontana gripped and released his wand several times, but he couldn't bring himself to take a single step.

In the end, all he heard was Grindelwald chuckle and turn his gaze away.

All eyes were on Hawthorne, awaiting his answer, while the baby continued to sob uncontrollably. Stella seized the opportunity to rush over and help the unconscious Seraphina to her feet. She knelt on one knee, letting her aunt lean against her, and looked at the Congressional President, surrounded by people, with fear and helplessness.

Hawthorne tightened his grip on the child's arm and looked up to ask, "Go with you—to join the Malay Party?"

“That’s right.” Grindelwald chuckled softly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t want to?”

Hawthorne's tone was eerily calm as he said, "What if... I don't agree?"

Grindelwald's smile deepened: "Then I will naturally turn and leave. I wish you a pleasant internal affair."

He said in a relaxed tone, "The UMNO does not interfere in the internal affairs of other countries—unless it involves members of our own UMNO party."

Hearing this conversation, the surrounding wizards almost simultaneously erupted in a silent, suppressed roar of anger:

"Non-interference in internal affairs?! They just killed three of us... no, four! And now they want to take the Speaker of Congress away. Is this what they call non-interference?!"

However, no one dared to utter this roar.

Lyra looked at Hawthorne with almost longing, hoping he would decisively refuse the invitation from the world's most dangerous dark wizard.

Hawthorne remained silent.

He looked at the baby in his arms who had cried until he was finally quiet, and then at the familiar yet unfamiliar faces around him, which resembled masks.

While Hawthorne in the past may have weighed interests, yielded, and even accommodated certain forces, he was also stubborn and idealistic, and had absolutely no connection with the "Malaysian Party".

If there were such a thing... in his mind, it would be that he would lead American wizards to fight against the ever-expanding influence of the Malay Party.

He believed he would face death without hesitation and would never compromise with the dark wizard.

but now……

Finally, Hawthorne nodded very slowly.

Grindelwald's smile finally became a little more genuine:

"Wise choice."

He turned around, walked towards the wall of fire, and said decisively, "Well then, we should leave. I don't like the air here."

As he walked, flames surged around him, and even under his feet, blue flames spread like grass.

Hawthorne didn't look back. He simply held the child in his arms tighter and followed the eerie blue flame. The blue flames clung to his clothes and trouser legs, but they didn't cause him any harm.

One after the other, the two figures passed through the high wall made of ghostly blue flames without any hindrance.

The instant they were completely engulfed in the flames, the raging fire seemed to be violently sucked in by an invisible mouth, rapidly contracting into a bundle, and flickering and extinguishing in the blink of an eye.

The place was deserted except for the lingering pungent smell of burning in the air and the trees that had turned to pale ashes and were scattered by the wind. It was as if Grindelwald had never been there.

After a brief, suffocating silence, Lyra could no longer maintain the carefully crafted mask.

She screamed in extreme anger, staring intently at the void where Grindelwald and Hawthorne had disappeared, as if she wanted to burn it through with her gaze.

(End of this chapter)