The Witcher: The Journey to Transcendence from Marvel...

Chapter 34 A Gift for Dumbledore

In the solemn and quiet headmaster's office, Dumbledore and Wes sat facing each other, a subtle tension permeating the air.

"You've finished reading the book?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly, his gaze falling on Wes through his half-moon spectacles.

"No." Wes shook his head, his answer concise and direct.

"Is there anything you don't understand?" Dumbledore pressed on.

"No, not really." Wes shook his head slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips, seemingly in no hurry to explain.

Dumbledore frowned, a hint of reproach in his voice: "Then what are you doing here?" He sighed softly and continued, "As the headmaster, I'm very busy."

Wes's gaze fell on the plate piled high with candy in front of Dumbledore, and he teased, "What are you busy with? Busy enjoying your afternoon tea."

A slight smirk played on his lips as he looked at Dumbledore with a hint of mockery. "Aren't you afraid of getting diabetes?"

"What is that?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"A disease discovered by a Muggle doctor..." Wes began to explain, but as he spoke, he realized that he had been led astray by Dumbledore, so he stopped in time and steered the conversation back on track.

"I'm here to give you a gift."

Wes took out a seemingly ordinary diary from his pocket and gently placed it on the table between the two of them.

"A gift? A diary?"

Dumbledore's gaze fell on the diary. He knew in his heart that Wes's gift was no ordinary one, and there must be something special about this diary.

Instead of touching the diary directly with his hands, Dumbledore carefully took out a uniquely shaped, 15-inch-long wand from the inner pocket of his robe.

That's the Elder Wand, one of the Three Deadly Holy Relics, the most powerful wand in legend.

He gently pressed the Elder Wand against the diary, muttering incantations as he cast some kind of mysterious spell.

The diary floated slowly in the air, and with a flash of blue light, a figure gradually solidified in the air.

He was a boy with jet-black hair, and his eyes were as deep as black gemstones, gleaming with a cold light. He had a high nose, thin lips that were tightly closed, and a slender and handsome face. He wore a Slytherin robe.

However, at this moment his face was gloomy and his eyes were filled with murderous intent, which made his originally handsome appearance look somewhat ferocious.

"You dare lie to me!!" the boy angrily questioned Wes.

Wes simply shrugged and didn't respond.

The boy's anger burned even more fiercely under Wes's indifferent attitude, as if it would burn Wes to ashes at any moment.

"Long time no see, Tom." Dumbledore's calm yet powerful voice sent a shiver down the boy's spine.

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, which was then replaced by apprehension.

"Dumbledore!!" The boy, Tom, or Voldemort, had nothing but fear in his eyes, and a fear that he himself was unaware of.

Looking at Voldemort's youthful appearance, Dumbledore felt a pang of emotion. He sighed, "I never imagined you'd already created Horcruxes during your student days. If only I had guided you properly back then..."

"Stop pretending, Dumbledore. You've disliked me from the start and have always been wary of me."

Voldemort's roar echoed in the headmaster's office; his voice, filled with rage and resentment, seemed to tear the air apart.

Dumbledore remained remarkably calm in the face of this rage, but the portraits on the wall could not remain silent; their voices rose and fell, filled with anger and condemnation.

"Stubborn to the end!" the principal in a portrait shouted angrily.

"You are a disgrace to Hogwarts!!" the headmaster in another portrait angrily rebuked.

"Destroy him quickly!" the principal in another portrait said urgently.

"Oh, Merlin's beard, committing murder at such a young age, unforgivable!"

A portrait of an old school principal was also included in the reprimands.

Faced with the principals' scolding, Voldemort merely raised his chin slightly, his face full of arrogance, showing no sign of remorse.

"Quiet, everyone." It took Dumbledore quite a bit of effort to calm the portraits down.

Dumbledore closed the diary, and Voldemort transformed into a streak of light and returned to the diary, calming the atmosphere in the office.

"How's this gift?" Wes asked, somewhat smugly.

"Fantastic!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Where did you find that? You know Voldemort took Horcruxes very seriously and hid them extremely well."

Wes told Dumbledore about Flourish and Blotts.

"Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore's expression turned serious. "He was a Death Eater, so Voldemort could very well have entrusted the Horcruxes to him. But why send them back to Hogwarts at this time?"

Dumbledore fell into deep thought, unable to guess what Lucius Malfoy was thinking.

"We can ask Mr. Malfoy to come over and ask him in person," Wes suggested.

"Mr. Malfoy is no honest man," Dumbledore said with some concern.

"I have a way, but I need your cooperation, Principal," Wes said, his voice full of confidence.

Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!

"No problem," Dumbledore readily agreed.

"We'll need a diary then."

Dumbledore shrugged. "I was planning to destroy this Horcrux as soon as possible, but waiting a few more days won't hurt."

If the Horcrux had been created during Voldemort's prime, Dumbledore would have destroyed it immediately. However, the diary was Voldemort's first Horcrux, created when he was sixteen or seventeen, so even if Dumbledore were old, he was confident he could keep an eye on it.

The two agreed to meet on Quidditch match day, when all eyes in the school would be on the pitch, providing perfect cover for Dumbledore and Wes's plan.

Furthermore, since Draco became Slytherin's new Seeker this year, it's perfectly reasonable for Dumbledore to invite Lucius to Hogwarts to watch Draco's first game.

In his office, Dumbledore was writing the invitation on parchment with his elegant quill. After finishing, he gently blew on the ink, then carefully folded the letter and placed it in a beautiful envelope.

He summoned an owl, which perched obediently on Dumbledore's arm. Dumbledore whispered to it, "Go, my friend, and deliver this letter safely to Malfoy Manor."

The owl picked up the envelope, spread its broad wings, flew through the window, and headed towards Malfoy Manor.

At Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy had been deeply troubled lately. Since the start of the school year, he had been preoccupied with the diary. He was puzzled by the lack of news about anything unusual happening at Hogwarts.

Lucius couldn't determine whether Wes had taken the diary back to Hogwarts, or whether the diary didn't possess the power to purge Hogwarts as Voldemort had described.

His wife, Narcissa Malfoy, noticed his unease and asked with concern, "Darling, what's wrong? You've been distracted ever since we came back from Diagon Alley. Is there something wrong with that shipment?"

Narcissa thought there was a problem with the sale of the black magic items.

Lucius forced a smile: "You know, I clashed with Weasley at the bookstore, and he's keeping a close eye on me now. Those things could cause trouble."

Narcissa believed her husband's story.

Just then, Dobby, the Malfoy family's house-elf, cautiously approached, his head bowed low, avoiding eye contact with the two. His voice trembled as he said, "Masters, a letter from Hogwarts."

"You bastard, can't you see we're talking?" Narcissa snapped.

Dobby was so frightened that he trembled all over.

Narcissa took the envelope from Dobby with a look of disgust, sprayed a lot of perfume on it before opening the letter.

"It's from Dumbledore, an invitation for us to watch a Quidditch match."

Lucius said suspiciously, "He's never invited us before, why is it so sudden this time?"

Narcissa, however, was delighted: "This is Draco's first game as the Seeker, and I don't want to miss it. It'll also be a good opportunity for you to relax."

Lucius thought about it and finally agreed. He secretly planned in his mind:

I need to personally verify if the diary was taken to Hogwarts, and why there's nothing unusual about it.

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(End of this chapter)