Harry doesn't want to be a wizard, he wants to be a superhero

Harry nodded, then considered for a moment, and continued:
“Then I’ll have Lucius make arrangements to control the Daily Prophet and manipulate public opinion. That should solve all the problems.”

Mr. Weasley then relaxed:
"That's great. Although Lucius isn't much, he's still capable. We don't need to worry about him handling this matter."

By the way, I haven't asked you yet, when did you reach an agreement with Lucius and those pure-blood families?
They were so loyal to Voldemort before, but now they dare to betray him for your sake.

This problem had troubled Mr. Visius for a long time. He knew Lucius's character and thought he wouldn't betray Voldemort and side with Harry.

But things took a turn for the worse than he expected; he never imagined that Lucius would actually betray Voldemort.

Harry smiled and replied, "I talked with Mr. Lucius for a long time, and he finally realized that even if Voldemort were in charge, given his selfish nature, they wouldn't benefit much."

The world is bustling with activity, all driven by profit. I promised to promote him to Minister of Magic, while he would do everything in his power to push Muggle technology to invade the wizarding world.

In reality, it was all just a transaction. Lucius didn't really care about pure-blood honor; what he cared about was family honor and his own power and wealth.

Mr. Weasley was completely convinced by Harry's words. He nodded and said, "That's right, that's how it is. This is the Lucius I know."

Harry continued eating without showing any emotion. The truth was quite different from what he had told Mr. Weasley: he had secured the loyalty of Lucius and other pure-blood family members through a forced contract.

Of course, he wouldn't tell anyone about this, not even Dumbledore, since signing a contract to control people was too much like something a demon would do.

After spending three more days at the Burrow, Harry and Ron set off for Hogwarts.

With more than a month to go before the start of the school year, Harry certainly wouldn't waste that time.

He will spend most of his time absorbing the Spirit King's authority, and the rest of his time modifying Hogwarts.

However, upon arriving at Hogwarts, he received news that he hadn't expected.

………………

As I pushed open the door to the principal's office, a warm, golden light instantly enveloped me.

Dozens of magic candles floated beneath the dome, their flames flickering quietly without dripping wax, yet they warmed the entire room with a cozy glow.

Despite being able to use Muggle-world technological creations, and even having modified Hogwarts' fixed magic circle to no longer prohibit their use, the old man in front of him still insisted on using traditional magical candles instead of electric lights.

However, this is not incomprehensible. After all, technological creations primarily benefit a large number of lower-level wizards, while for wizards of Dumbledore's caliber, technological creations are not even as convenient as his magic.

Entering the headmaster's office, Dumbledore was sitting in a chair, teasing Fawkes who was standing on the table.

Hearing the soft click of the door hinges, Dumbledore looked up, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles curving into crescents.

He didn't get up, but just smiled at Harry and raised his chin, then reached into the desk drawer with his other hand and pulled out a tin box with silver patterns.

“Perfect timing, Harry,” his voice was like warm milk infused with honey, gentle and clear, “new sugar just arrived from Honeydukes, with lemon sorbet and a bouncing coconut sorbet, which would you like to try?” The sweet aroma wafted out the moment the tin box was opened.

Fawkes seemed to be attracted by the aroma, flapping his wings and flying to Dumbledore's shoulder, nuzzling his head against his ear. Dumbledore, raising an eyebrow, picked up a piece of candy covered in gold leaf with his fingertips and handed it to Harry.

Harry reached out and took the gold-leaf candy, his fingertips still feeling the coolness of the tin box as they touched the wrapper.

He gently unwrapped the candy, the refreshing scent of lemon mingling with the sweetness of honey filling the air. Only when he put it in his mouth did he look up at Dumbledore, his tone tinged with curiosity and seriousness:
"Professor, is there something important that you asked me to come back from my vacation early?"

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, and Fawkes jumped off his shoulder, landing on the corner of the table to preen his feathers.

He took off his crescent-shaped glasses and gently wiped the lenses with a velvet cloth; his blue eyes appeared exceptionally gentle in the candlelight.

“Don’t rush, Harry, finish the candy first,” he put his glasses back on, his gaze fixed on Harry’s face with a faint smile, “There are some things we need to sit down and talk about slowly.”

Judging from Dumbledore's unhurried reaction, the matter was probably not urgent, or perhaps it was very urgent, but even if it was urgent in the short term, there was no way to change it.

Harry sucked on the candy, the sweet and sour lemon slowly melting on his tongue.

He leaned back in his chair by the desk, watching Fawkes finish preening his feathers and then hop around to peck at a small crumb of bread on the table before looking at Dumbledore again:
"So what is it, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore's smile faded, and he gently patted Fawkes' head, letting it rest on his shoulder, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the edge of the tin box.

The warm golden candlelight danced on his silvery beard, but it no longer reflected the gentle warmth of before.

Dumbledore's blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles darkened, and his voice lowered, carrying a hint of barely perceptible gravity:

"It's about two things, Harry. The Resurrection Stone, and the Elder Wand."

He paused, and seeing Harry's expression instantly tighten, he continued:
“They’ve been stolen. Someone’s been deliberately collecting the Deathly Hallows, and now… only your invisibility cloak is left.”

As he finished speaking, the candlelight in the office seemed to flicker slightly, and Fawkes nuzzled Dumbledore’s neck nervously, letting out a low chirp.

Harry was puzzled: "Was it Voldemort? Who else would be watching the Deathly Hallows now, and who else could steal them from you?"

Dumbledore slowly shook his head, his silver beard swaying slightly.

He got up and walked to the window, gazing at the night view of Hogwarts outside. Moonlight streamed through the glass, casting a somber shadow on him.
“I’ve checked the magical traces in the castle. The thief’s methods are very special. He has a special power that allows him to ignore the defensive magic I set up at the location of the sacred artifacts. He moves like a phantom, leaving no trace behind.”

Voldemort was powerful, but he was good at breaking through defenses with brute force, rather than this method.

This ability is more like some kind of innate talent for concealment, or some ancient magic that we have yet to discover. (End of Chapter)