Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 614, Section 612: Blood for Blood

"Look at this!"

His voice was low and hoarse, as if it were being squeezed out of his throat.

"How could they possibly have escaped from Azkaban?"

It was Professor McGonagall's voice; Sheehan heard it clearly.

He sat up in bed and summoned a magical mirror, which displayed an urgent news report:

The Ministry of Magic announced last night that a small-scale prison break had occurred in Azkaban.

Minister Cornell Fudge confirmed in an interview at his office that several serious offenders escaped last night, and that he had informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the danger posed by the escapees.

"Let them come!"

"If they want to escape a few people from Azkaban, they'll have to leave the same number behind! The Ministry of Magic's authority cannot be challenged! If they attempt to attack any other location, the Ministry will wipe them out!" said Scrimgeour, the Auror's Chief of Staff.

Compared to the deceitful and weak Ministry of Magic of that time, the current Ministry of Magic at least dares to confront the Death Eaters instead of simply running away.

Sheen stared at the line of black text, not at the distinctive seal of the Daily Prophet at the edge of the text, but did not seem surprised.

A ripple appeared in the magical realm, revealing Sirius Black's excited face: "Mr. Green, as you predicted, he's here, he really is here."

Azkaban's guards were easily defeated, but fortunately, no one was killed. We've placed tracking charms on several of them—"

Sirius reported the situation very quickly.

Where is Voldemort?

Sheen asked.

"Ha ha----"

Sirius burst into laughter, then quickly suppressed it and said seriously, "He was bad, very bad. Although we were far from the battlefield, the last thing we saw was him being dragged away by the Death Eaters."

"Headmaster Dumbledore's condition isn't very good either—"

Lupin suddenly appeared on screen and gave a reminder.

"At least Dumbledore walked on his own, instead of being dragged along like a dead dog."

Sirius Black pouted.

"Is Headmaster Dumbledore really bad?"

Sheen asked seriously.

"He suffered several terrible curses from Voldemort."

Lupin said with concern.

"Don't let useless information distract you, Remus. Haven't we suffered less from the curse? Old man, this is a battle, and battles require a willingness to sacrifice."

Sirius coughed.

Sheen then had a chance to properly observe the two of them.

Sirius's clothes were tattered, a section of his hair was burnt, and his left hand hung limply, but his eyes were full of excitement.

Lupin looked exhausted and haggard, leaning on a cane, with scars on his face from some unknown magic.

"Thanks to your fairy tale cookie series, we were able to escape safely, leaving behind only one Death Eater. Where do we put him now, esteemed Mr. Grimm?"

Sirius threw the magic mirror into the air, and the small mirror floated up, allowing Sheen to see the bound wizard.

"The Dark Lord will not let one go."

He twisted his body, his face contorted in a ferocious expression.

Amicus Carlo.

Sheen knew this Death Eater.

If nothing unexpected happens, he may well be the last Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts.

The third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor didn't have any problems, so the curse overtaxed the seventh-year student?

Sheen suddenly realized something.

"Mr. Sirius, Mr. Lupin. Just call me Green."

Sheehan said calmly, "Just put him in Azkaban. Voldemort shouldn't go there again."

If Azkaban had a Dumbledore lying in wait every day, no one would want to go there.

"Gentlemen, you can connect with Sklynch. By the way, I've already asked St. Mungo's Hospital to reserve seats for you."

Consider it a short break; they probably won't dare to make any moves anytime soon.

Sheen stared intently at the two of them.

"This won't do."

Sirius Black tried to make his tone as respectful as possible. "We can still fight, Mr. Green! We can fight anywhere, as long as we can nip their evil plans in the bud."

We cannot allow those vicious dark wizards to infiltrate the magical world, especially since we have information on their whereabouts.

"Mr. Sirius."

Sheen said.

His tone remained calm, even suggesting a willingness to negotiate.

Sirius and Lupin, however, were on high alert and dared not underestimate the situation.

"Preserve yourselves. We are not those inescapable, corrupt beings. On the contrary, those capable of confronting Voldemort head-on and contending with the Death Eaters are almost all in your minds. Conserve your strength, gentlemen, for we still have much to do to eradicate evil."

Sheen said slowly.

"Old buddy."

Sirius saw Lupin shaking his head at him, and only then did he lower his head, convincing himself in a second to listen to the black-haired wizard in front of him.

"For your will."

Sirius said.

When the Magic Hand Mirror calmed down, Professor McGonagall and Marcus were rushing down the corridor.

Sheen pondered the current state of the magical world alone, then shook his head and gripped his wand tightly again.

Hogwarts.

cellar.

The fireplace flames were kept low, casting a pale green light on Snape's tense face.

Dumbledore sat in the hardwood chair, his robes tattered and half of his beard burned and charred.

His left arm rested on the armrest, and more than ten streams of mist of different colors were slowly seeping from his skin.

Deep purple, dark green, and dark red, they twisted and wriggled strangely, like living creatures.

Snape pointed his wand precisely at the brightest curse and whispered a spell.

The black mist let out a barely audible scream, then transformed into thin threads and was drawn out, entering a crystal bottle filled with silver-blue liquid.

"The seventh one,"

Snape's voice was as cold as the bricks of a cellar. "You should thank Merlin; these curses counterbalance each other, so none of them are instantly fatal. But if you do it again—"

"I won't stop, Siever."

Dumbledore's tone was calm, but his blue eyes shone with an astonishing light. "In fact, if it weren't for coming back to let you deal with these troubles, I would have already chased after them to the Albanian forest by now."

Snape's wand paused, and he looked up at him. "The fourth time. You cornered the Dark Lord in Azkaban, and in front of several Dementors, brought him to the brink of death. Do you know how many Death Eaters he brought this time? Almost the entire Inner Circle."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, seemingly with some regret: "It's a pity that he still managed to escape in a wisp of black smoke. However, his body is mostly destroyed, and he will have difficulty moving for the time being. This is better than I expected."

"And the curse upon you,"

Snape continued in that flat, suppressed tone, "More than half of it was done by the Dark Lord himself. With that kind of fighting, you had no intention of leaving alive."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

The smile lacked the weariness and heaviness of the past; instead, it revealed a youthful sense of relief that Snape had never seen before.

I didn't dare before.

The old headmaster said softly, "In the past, I had to calculate the gains and losses with every step I took, considering who would look after Hogwarts if I fell, and who would lead Tom by the nose. But things are different now."

He took out a small badge from his pocket, which shimmered with a warm gold hue.

Snape recognized it; it was the emblem of the youngest participant in the history of the International Alchemy Conference, and the recipient's name was unfamiliar in the award section.

"future."

Dumbledore said, "I sometimes call him that. He's the one you watched grow up, Severus. He won't go down Tom's path, nor will he repeat my mistakes. I've entrusted everything to him."

Snape's lips moved, but he didn't make a sound.

Or rather, he was in a state of utter confusion.

He always loses his composure when it comes to a certain young wizard.

It was like this from the first time he entered the cellar and brewed a potion that failed.

"So when I thought Tom was going to Azkaban to rescue his old comrades, I knew with relief that I no longer had any reservations."

Dumbledore's voice was calm, yet burning like fire. "I can unleash all my magic, all my fury, without holding back a single drop. I can chase him, once, twice, four times, until I tear him to pieces. For even if I perish with him, I will still stand here in the future."

Severus, think about everything he's done lately, and I'm just retaliating in kind.

The cellar remained silent for a long time. When the last curse was drawn out, the old man let out a soft hiss.

The hideous lines on Dumbledore's arm finally disappeared completely.

He coughed violently twice, but his complexion quickly returned to normal, and he was indeed fine.

Snape put away his wand, turned and walked towards the potions shelf, his back stiff: "—You're not like this, Dumbledore. What are you trying to tell me?"

Dumbledore donned his repaired robes again and walked towards the door. Before pushing open the stone door, he glanced back: "Severus, the world has changed. I have changed, and so have you. I am an old man, Severus. I am mending my mistakes, for time is running out."

But the future belongs to him, and it also belongs to you. I need you to take care of him, or them.

The door opened, letting in a blast of cold air from the cellar corridor. Dumbledore stepped into the darkness, his steps more resolute than ever before.

How is Headmaster Dumbledore?

When he failed his thirteenth practice session, Sheen thought of it again.

He had anticipated that Headmaster Dumbledore would be waiting in Azkaban, and quickly arranged for Lupin and Sirius to wait there.

They transformed into magical creatures, and the period wasn't particularly difficult.

After the anticipated battle broke out, Sheen successfully obtained the trail of the Death Eaters.

Next, we need to get rid of them.

Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr., Antonin Dolohoff, Fenrir Graybuck, August Lukwood, Alecto Caro —

They are all heinous dark wizards who only cause terrorist attacks in the magical world, destroying one family after another.

What Sheen had to do was take advantage of Voldemort's weakness and eliminate his followers.

Sirius Black and Lupin were naturally not going to be the main force; Sheen planned to go himself.

This seems like a crazy idea; if Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape found out, he probably wouldn't be able to leave Hogwarts.

His confinement could last until Professor Snape was very old.

However, Sheen's plans are always meticulous, and he will only act when it is safe to do so. This Quidditch World Cup is such an opportunity.

Oh, and he also needs to learn Apparition beforehand.

"Things are getting worse. Those blind fools at the Ministry of Magic actually refused my reinstatement application—"

Marcus deliberately lowered his voice.

But Sheen, who was in the room on the second floor, still heard it.

Since grasping Grindelwald's magical theories, Sheen's senses seem to have been enhanced considerably.

The specific method is roughly as follows:

Sheen wanted to hear certain words clearly, so an unknown, or perhaps known, spell was unleashed.

It was certainly very weak, but the world tolerated its existence and fed back to the little wizard.

It acted like a loudspeaker spell in Sheen's ear, allowing him to hear faint sounds from a great distance.

No wonder those powerful wizards all have such keen senses.

Headmaster Dumbledore was like that, Grindelwald was like that, and even Professor Snape almost discovered Harry and the others who were out at night wearing invisibility cloaks.

"They're right, you're getting old, Marcus."

Professor McGonagall also spoke in a very low voice.

"But I still have energy."

Marcus muttered in dissatisfaction.

The sound was getting closer.

"Little Green, where are they? Your friends are arriving tomorrow!"

When he knocked on the door, his tone of voice had completely changed.

At the same time, Bai Yi cooed and threw some letters onto Sheen's desk.

Sheehan glanced at it and knew it was sent by Hermione and Justin.

Only they would use the stamps displayed in the Hope Hut.

Those were the experimental subjects from which Sheen practiced Transfiguration.

"I understand, Grandpa Marcus."

Sheen said, quickly opening the door, "Baiyi has already delivered the letter of inquiry; you can completely delegate the task to her."

"Some happy things are better said in person, otherwise how can I share the joy on your face? I always tell Minerva to remind you not to be so serious; you're still a child!"

Marcus looked quite dissatisfied.

Minerva ignored him.

"I would like to ask if you have a moment—"

Sheen suddenly remembered Marcus's extremely high level of Apparition mastery. "I want to learn Apparition."

"Of course."

"This is of course 7"

Marcus and Minerva spoke at the same time, both noticing the hostility on each other's faces.

The difference was that Marcus wore his displeasure on his face, while Minerva simply snorted and glanced at him sideways.

Sheehan stared intently at Professor McGonagall.

The professor always becomes much more endearing after returning to the villa.

Perhaps it's because people only show their unusual side when they're at home.

"I absolutely disagree!"