At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

Chapter 56 The Fire Dragon's Final Battle (Part 1)

The fireplace in the Gryffindor common room crackled, but its warmth did little to dispel Harry's chill.

"I'm not going."

Hermione's voice was soft, but it exploded in Harry and Ron's ears.

She sat in a corner away from the stove, with a thick copy of the "General Principles of Law" spread out on her lap.

"Hermione, that's Hagrid!" Ron whispered urgently. "If we don't go, Norbert will be killed, and Hagrid will be imprisoned in Azkaban!"

"I know it's Hagrid." Hermione looked up. "But it's precisely because I know that I understand what we're facing."

The program has started, Harry.

If we get caught at a time like this—it won't be solved by solitary confinement.

"You're scared." Harry stared at her.

"I am sober." Hermione stood up, her hands trembling, but her tone was unusually resolute. "This kind of recklessness is not courage, it's walking into a trap."

Malfoy is waiting for you with his net spread wide.

I can't go with you to jump into the fire pit, I'm sorry.

Clutching her books, she walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitory without looking back.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, feeling utterly helpless.

Just then, Neville Longbottom walked into the lounge, heard the commotion, and came over carrying a wilting plant.

"I—I heard you." Neville's voice trembled. "You're going to help Hagrid get rid of that dragon, right?"

"Navie, this is dangerous."

Harry instinctively refused, but when he looked at Ron's mangled hand and remembered the heavy wooden chest, the scales began to tip.

"I'm not as brave as you guys—but I don't want to see Hagrid cry."

"And—I don't want to always hide behind others."

If I don't even have the courage to try, then I—I really am just a Longbottom.

Neville's teeth chattered with extreme fear. "But I—I can help you carry the boxes. I've recently built up some strength."

"

This formed a trio:

A reckless savior, a wounded Weasley, and a dragon-fearing Longbottom.

This is the Gryffindor expeditionary force.

Late Saturday night, the corridors of Hogwarts were silent.

Harry's Invisibility Cloak barely concealed the three of them, but it couldn't hide the crate containing Norbert at all.

They could only make the wooden crates bulge under the invisibility cloak, making them look like a transparent behemoth crawling down the corridor.

"Oh my god—it's biting my robe."

Neville suppressed a sob, his hand gripping the edge of the crate's seam.

Norbert was restless inside.

The young dragon became extremely irritable after the accidental fire, and the sulfurous smell emanating from its throat could be detected even through wooden boards.

"Shh! Neville, hold on!" Ron braced the box against his shoulder. "Once we get to the Astronomy Tower, Charlie's friends will take it. Everything will be alright."

However, the experience along the way can only be described as absurd.

On the second floor, around the corner, they bumped into Filch, who was patrolling with a lantern.

The three men were carrying heavy boxes, their steps incredibly heavy, the sound of their footsteps on the stone slabs echoing like drums in the empty corridor.

"Who's there?" Filch turned around and looked over.

Harry felt his heart stop. At that moment, Neville, overwhelmed by tension, stumbled, and the box slammed heavily against the corner of the wall with a loud thud.

Norbert let out a sharp roar, and the flames he spewed ignited Neville's cuffs through the seams of the box.

"Ah—" Neville gasped, on the verge of crying out.

But just as Filch's lights were about to illuminate their hiding place, Mrs. Lorris suddenly screamed and ran in the opposite direction, even knocking over an armor stand in her haste.

"Mrs. Lawrence? Come back! What did you find?" Filch's attention was drawn, and he grumbled as he chased the cat up another flight of stairs.

"He—he didn't see us?" Ron was stunned. They had been standing almost under Filch's nose, and the smell of burning was so strong.

"Don't stand there, let's go!" Harry pulled the two of them uphill.

This happened again on the fifth floor.

They were less than five feet away from Peeves, and the wooden crate even stirred up a gust of wind as it moved.

Peeves clearly turned his head and saw the bulge in the Invisibility Cloak, but instead of exposing it, he let out an extremely exaggerated laugh and threw ink bottles elsewhere, plunging the surroundings into confusion and chaos.

"This isn't right—" Harry gasped, sweat blurring his vision, "How could they possibly—with all this commotion—"

"Maybe—maybe we're just lucky?"

Neville wiped away his tears with his extinguished sleeve while gripping the edge of the suitcase tightly. "Quickly—we're almost there."

The final spiral staircase leading to the Astronomical Tower is hell.

Norber seemed to sense the wind high above and began to violently thrash around inside the box.

The once sturdy wooden box began to disintegrate under the young dragon's sharp claws.

"Harry! Its claws are out!" Ron watched in horror as a sharp claw pierced through the wooden board, nearly slicing through his neck.

Neville was on the verge of a breakdown. He closed his eyes and kept repeating, "Don't eat me, don't eat me."

They were like three drunken clowns carrying a powder keg that could explode at any moment, stumbling through Hogwarts in the dead of night.

There was no stealthy planning, no meticulous scheme.

All that remained were rough attempts to conceal the truth, heavy breathing, and clueless actions made out of excessive tension.

As they finally reached the flat top of the Astronomy Tower, the chilly night wind lifted a corner of the Invisibility Cloak.

Harry collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.

He looked at the few black dots that appeared faintly on the distant horizon; those were Charlie's friends, dragon riders on broomsticks.

"We...did it?" Ron looked at his hands in disbelief.

"Yes, you did it."

A burst of hearty laughter rang out, and Harry turned around abruptly.

"Cough cough."

That was a deliberately cleared throat sound. "Caught red-handed, Mr. Potter."

Dolores Umbridge's voice echoed at the top of the tower.

Her toad-like face was filled with a morbid excitement.

Behind her, several officers from the Department of Fantastic Beasts, dressed in dark gray uniforms, had sealed off the observatory's exits.

"Isn't this a touching example of friendship between classmates?"

"Is this the fire hazard?" Umbridge walked up to the wooden crate.

She used her wand to lift a corner of the Invisibility Cloak. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and this—oh, brave classmate of unknown origin. Illegally smuggling Norwegian Ridgebacks, defying campus police patrols, and even conducting transnational black market trade here."

She burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Harry felt suffocated.

He gripped the edge of the broken wooden box tightly, his palms throbbing with pain from the splinters.

Beside him, Ron was almost limp, while Neville had his eyes closed and was trembling violently.

"Illegal possession and transportation of Class IV dangerous organisms, involving cross-border illegal rendezvous."

Umbridge waved her wand. "According to Chapter 3 of the 'Guide to the Operations of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,' I have the authority to detain this creature and place all suspects present under compulsory administrative detention."

"All of this happened right under the nose of Headmaster Dumbledore, who is known for his meticulousness. This serious administrative dereliction of duty is truly heartbreaking for the department."

Harry looked at the dragon riders hovering in the air, too afraid to approach because of the Ministry of Magic uniforms, and then at Umbridge's nauseating smile.

All the efforts, all the struggles, seemed so ridiculous in the face of those few stamped parchment sheets.

"We—we just wanted to help Hagrid," Neville whispered, trembling.

"Hagrid?" Umbridge exaggeratedly clutched his chest. "You mean that half-giant with a criminal record? Oh, the ministry has already prepared a special private room for him in Azkaban."

Don't worry, children, your actions will also be recorded in the annual report on Hogwarts' accreditation.

.

A perfect trap. The procedure was flawless, and the timing was impeccable.

Just as the officials were about to step over the invisibility cloak and take complete control of the scene, a calm voice rang out.

He didn't look at Umbridge, nor at the panicked students.

"That was wonderful," he said softly.

"What amazing official document skills, Dolores. Authorizations personally signed by Connelly are always—"

—Are you too eager for quick results?

Dumbledore came out.

He wasn't wearing a fancy robe, but rather a very simple, even somewhat worn, dark purple velvet robe.

His gaze was fixed on the play through his crescent-shaped glasses.

"Headmaster!" Harry exclaimed.

Dumbledore raised his hand to signal him to be quiet.

He walked straight to the scratched wooden box that was emitting a sulfurous stench, and even reached out to touch Norber's scales.

"You—Albus Dumbledore!" Umbridge's shrill voice suddenly rose, "You actually showed up here? You're condoning your students' smuggling! This is a blatant provocation against the Ministry!"

"Provocation? Oh no, my dear." Dumbledore turned around, his eyes filled with gentleness. "I was simply fulfilling my research duties as a headmaster."

I'm sure you haven't carefully read the Fourteenth Amendment to the Hogwarts Rules.

It clearly states that the principal has the authority to approve empirical research on miraculous biological life forms in extreme environments during specific teaching phases.

"Research?" Umbridge sneered, pointing at the battered box. "With these first-year students? At midnight? At the top of the Astronomy Tower?"

"Precisely because it is an extreme environment." Dumbledore looked at Chilton behind him, the deputy director who had been looking flustered. "Mr. Chilton, I remember that in that informal request last week, I specifically mentioned the need for a highly professional official to assist in receiving this fragile little life."

Could it be that something went wrong with the flow of official documents within the ministry, leading you to mistakenly believe this is a crime?

Chilton broke out in a cold sweat down his temples. Having been immersed in this system for years, he understood the implication Dumbledore was making:

If this is classified as an arrest, he has indeed done a good deed, but that would mean he would be completely on the opposite side of Dumbledore and suffer the same treatment as the person whose name cannot even be mentioned.

However, if this is characterized as assisting in the reception upon invitation, he will not only be blameless, but his resume will also have an added highlight of assisting Hogwarts in completing high-level research security.

Bureaucrats will always choose the path that is safest for their position.

"Oh—I remember now, Headmaster." Chilton coughed, not even looking at Umbridge's contorted face. "Indeed—the report might be stuck in the Minister's secretariat."

Since this is a project reported by the school, the current coordination process is now compliant.

"Chilton! What nonsense are you spouting!" Umbridge screamed. "Look at these children! Look at this dragon!"

"I saw it clearly, Dolores." Dumbledore's voice was still soft, but it carried an undeniable sense of pressure. "Due to my poor communication of administrative orders, these righteous and helpful children carried out a rough but extremely brave emergency evacuation in the rainy night."

This is a strategic error in education, not smuggling in the legal sense.

He turned his head and looked at Harry and his two companions huddled in the corner.

"Hagrid will be fined fifty gallons and placed on probation for three years for failing to properly safeguard evidence."

Dumbledore announced the final verdict: "As for Mr. Potter and his friends, they will have their already meager House Points deducted for unauthorized movement of expensive teaching assets."

All of this will be handled internally at Hogwarts. What do you think, Dolores?

He proactively acknowledged the flaws in the administrative procedures.

If Umbridge wants to arrest Hagrid now, she must first arrest Dumbledore, who has admitted to failing in his supervisory duties.

Fudge is now completely incapable of controlling Dumbledore.

The screams abruptly ceased, and the anger on Umbridge's toad-like face quickly faded, replaced by greed and calculation.

Her eyes, sunken in puffy eye bags, darted quickly between Dumbledore, the broken wooden box, and the Invisibility Cloak on the ground.

She keenly sensed the attempt to compromise.

Then, a professional, extremely hypocritical fake smile appeared on her face.

"Experimental sample—Albus, you make a good point," Umbridge murmured, "but I can't go back with a piece of waste paper. The minister needs results."

Since you acknowledge that this security breach was caused by administrative delays in the Headmaster's office, then this "Hogwarts Campus Management Security Risk Assessment Report" requires your signature.

It was a prepared document. Umbridge took out a parchment from his pocket, the title of which read in bold:

Regarding the preliminary characterization of the potential life threat posed by the school's administrative negligence to underage students.

Once Dumbledore signs, the Ministry of Magic will officially have the legal means to interfere with the administration of Hogwarts.

"Deal." Dumbledore signed his name on the paper without hesitation.

"A wise choice." Umbridge put away the documents with satisfaction. She waved her hand, and her subordinates spread out to let Charlie and the others land.

As he lifted into the air with the wooden crate, the assistant minister glanced back at Harry and couldn't help but say, "Mr. Potter, good luck. Hopefully, your next experiment will be more compliant with regulations."

The top of the tower returned to silence.

Harry, Ron, and Neville remained standing in the same spot.

Harry felt his body go limp; it was exhaustion from escaping death.

As he watched Dumbledore's retreating figure, his long-held admiration and gratitude for the headmaster welled up within him.

He even felt that if the headmaster could handle the Ministry of Magic in this way, then there was no law in the world that couldn't be bypassed.

"We—we're free, right?" Ron wiped the sweat from his face, his voice filled with the exhilaration of surviving a close call. "That bastard Draco would never have imagined that the headmaster could legalize dragons with just a word. His treacherous father has lost terribly!"

Under the flickering firelight atop the tower, the greatest white wizard of the past half-century appeared somewhat weary.

But he concealed it so subtly that it was almost imperceptible.

"Come here, children."

Dumbledore's voice soothed the chilly night wind atop the tower.

He simply stepped forward, reached out, and gently patted Neville, who was still trembling.

"Don't be afraid, Neville. Your grandmother will be proud of you for overcoming your fear and standing here."

He smiled gently, and with a flick of his wand, Neville's scorched sleeve was instantly restored.

"Professor—I'm sorry."

Harry suddenly felt a tightness in his throat, and he instinctively clenched his fists. "We were too reckless. Hermione—Hermione actually warned us—"

"Courage and recklessness are often separated by a fine line, Harry. Fortunately, you are still unharmed tonight." Dumbledore's eyes held no reproach, only his usual tolerance.

"Go ask Mrs. Pomfrey for some tranquilizers. That's all for tonight's extracurricular adventure."

At the same moment, deep within the spiral staircase beneath the Astronomical Tower.

The officers, dressed in Ministry of Magic uniforms, relaxed slightly in the magical castle where they had lived for seven years, and their pace slowed down.

"Sigh, fifteen years have passed, and the old principal still has the same protective attitude."

An elderly employee with graying temples pulled out a wand and casually lit a torch along the wall. His tone was a mix of awe and familiarity. "To protect those newly weaned little ones, I'd rather slap my hand on Fudge's desk."

"Only at Hogwarts would our white wizard back down like this," the younger wizard beside him sneered.

He touched the badge with the Ministry of Magic's seal on his chest and lowered his voice: "Who else could conjure up a legal experiment out of thin air in the face of this pile of irrefutable evidence tonight?"

A few of us came over in the middle of the night to keep the old principal company while he practiced standing meditation. To be honest, we were also secretly doing him a favor.

"Saving face is never free, Green, learn that."

The veteran employee shook his head, looking up at the dark stairwell with a complicated expression. "We both know what kind of paper that is. Privileges require an equivalent exchange."

He pulled up the collar of his uniform coat to block the draft in the tower, and the two exchanged a knowing glance.

"Unfortunately, after this grand show, the good days for our alma mater are probably really coming to an end."

"Let's go, Mr. Malfoy is waiting for this perfectly closing script."

The night wind swept through the ancient corridor, echoing the dull thud of leather shoes on the stone slabs.

The rules of the adult world, so quietly, are strangling the beauty of fairy tales.