Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 948 A Glimmer of Hope

The healer of the shaman was an elderly male shaman with short, silver-gray hair that was neatly combed and fine lines around his eyes.

Instead of using a wand, he extended his fingers and touched the baby's forehead, cheeks, heart, and tiny wrists with extreme gentleness, closing his eyes as if sensing something.

The baby, having eaten and drunk his fill, had stopped crying and was now giggling under the gentle touch, his movements as adorable as he waved his arms and legs.

Hawthorne sat beside him, his hands clasped under his chin, watching silently. Despite being exhausted, he refused to leave baby Hughes to rest.

Antoine stood with his arms crossed against the wall in the doorway, next to Viran, who was writing and drawing on parchment and sending messages to Wade—the information about the surveillance footage, as well as the whereabouts of Hawthorne and the Magic Council, were all provided to Grindelwald by him.

Naturally, all of this was done with Vader's permission.

After a long pause, the therapist withdrew his hand, frowned, and said softly:

"The situation is complex and dangerous. Forcibly reversing or stripping away time magic could have unpredictable consequences—and I'm not just talking about death."

He looked Hawthorne straight in the eye and said without any pretense, "If you want him to be more comfortable and live a few more years, the best thing to do is to do nothing and let him grow naturally."

“In that case,” Hawthorne asked, “Ezra has essentially been reborn completely? Except for the lack of his previous memories…”

The therapist looked at him silently, his eyes filled with unspoken pity and apology.

That gaze was like a cold, blunt knife, slowly and heavily cutting away at Hawthorne's last remaining hope.

He felt his heart sink, but slowly and stubbornly asked again:
"Can Ezra grow back to adulthood without being significantly affected?"

“I’m sorry,” the healer finally said. “Although his appearance has been reversed, this is just the most deceptive manifestation of time magic.”

“His internal organs and bones have undergone the opposite mutation. So… as I just said… [he will live a few more years].

"Several years...several years..."

Hawthorne murmured, his lips trembling uncontrollably, his voice shaking as he said:

"But Wade Grey, and Harry Potter, they were also affected by similar magic, and they recovered completely in no time, didn't they?"

Vilan raised an eyebrow, looked up and said, "Their time travel wasn't as long as Ezra Hughes'."

The therapist nodded to this "friend of Antoine" and said:
"As this gentleman said, the length of time is crucial. And this baby..."

He looked sympathetically at the child playing by himself on the bed and said:

"His time was forcibly pulled back to the earliest and most vulnerable stage of his life, almost equivalent to 'reshaping' it. The various subtle effects that were caused added up to have terrifying consequences."

After a pause, he added:

"Of course, the most crucial thing is that what allowed those two boys to travel back in time was an extremely ancient and special magical artifact. It embodies the hard work of countless Silent Ones, and their control over time magic has reached a level that is beyond our reach."

"It can allow two people to undergo a controlled time reversal simultaneously, and then restore them to their original state almost without any damage."

“I have never seen the actual kettle, but I speculate that if such a thing existed, it might be able to ‘set things right’ and bring the chaotic time within the baby’s body into a more even and uniform state.”

"In this way, even if he cannot completely return to the person you know, at least his lifespan will not be greatly affected."

"But unfortunately, we all know... who ended up with that thing."

Hawthorne fell silent.

In the silence, he once again felt a cold despair creeping over his heart, as if it were dragging him into a swamp to drown.

Dumbledore...

That was Grindelwald's most deadly enemy, his lifelong nemesis, two poles of light and darkness that were incompatible!
If I hadn't joined UMNO, I might still have had some hope of getting medical treatment, but now...

The light in Hawthorne's eyes went out, as if he had lost his focus, and the muscles in his cheeks trembled uncontrollably.

Antoine, who had been leaning against the door, listened quietly until now, when he seemed to find it amusing and chuckled softly.

Hawthorne gave him a cold look. Antoine, unfazed by the icy gaze, tilted his head and asked with a relaxed smile:

"If we... I mean, if... if we could find a way to restore this crying little child to normal..."

He paused briefly, looked at Hawthorne, and asked:

"So, what price are you willing to pay for this?"

Upon hearing this, Vilan immediately glared at Antoine with disapproval, as if he wanted to smash his head open with his iron fist.

—Who can get that golden kettle from Hogwarts, from Dumbledore's office?

In Wiran's view, no one else in the UMNO party could do this except for his master!
But he also knew very well that Wade was not one to bow down and beg for help—even from Dumbledore.

Hawthorne looked at the two men, seemingly weighing the veracity of Antoine's statement.

But then he realized that his past "balancing acts" always seemed to have failed, including when he later faced Perez...

If he had been as reckless as Hughes back then, would the outcome have been different?

So Hawthorne followed his intuition, his voice unusually heavy with seriousness:
“At any cost,” he said.

"--any?"

Antoine's playful and amused expression faded, and he then posed another question:
“Mr. Hawthorne, since you arrived here, you haven’t asked a single question… Aren’t you worried that tonight’s events were also orchestrated by our UMNO party in secret?”

The air in the room seemed to freeze for a moment. Vilan looked at Antoine, then at Hawthorne, his lips pressed tightly together, saying nothing.

Hawthorne met Antoine's probing gaze, then looked at the baby's round, innocent face, as if drawing strength from that purity and loyalty, or perhaps examining his own crumbling world.

Finally, he slowly raised his head, his eyes showing not even anger, but only a weary clarity.

"I know."

His voice was calm: "The root of all this lies in the inflated ambitions of some, the rotten foundations within the Magic Congress, and... in my stupidity and indulgence."

"It was my failure to see the people around me clearly, allowing a group of greedy individuals to seize high positions; it was my tolerance of their corruption and collusion that gave them the opportunity to control the Magic Congress."

Thinking of the terrible consequences, his face showed pain:

“Whether or not there are external forces pushing it, all of this was bound to happen sooner or later... These are not things that the UMNO could have created out of thin air. You may have taken advantage of it, but it is by no means the only cause of the problem.”

Upon hearing this answer, Antoine finally smiled, his tone becoming more candid:
"Well then, let me tell you a fact—before tonight, or rather, before you step into our sight with this child in your arms, this magnificent farce unfolding within the Magical Congress of the United States..."

He shrugged and spread his hands:
“We, the UMNO party, really did nothing – neither promoted it nor bothered to stop it.”

"We just need to watch."

"Because your Magic Congress is far more rotten and corrupt than you could ever imagine; it's just exceptionally good at disguising itself."

"But it's really stupid that you don't realize it before you're driven to a dead end, and you're not pulled in by anyone to become an accomplice."

These words were particularly harsh, making Hawthorne feel a burning pain on his face, but he found that he couldn't refute them.

"you're right……"

He lowered his head and said in a deep voice:

"As someone who once sat in that position, I bear an undeniable responsibility for all of this. But..."

Hawthorne said softly, "What is there about an incompetent politician like me that warrants Mr. Grindelwald's personal intervention to save me?"

He looked at Antoine and calmly asked, "What exactly do you want me to do?"

(End of this chapter)