Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God

Chapter 187: Chapter 187: What Do You Want to Ask Me?



"Ah, my apologies." Dumbledore wiped the corner of his eye, and feigned composure as he said, "Revisiting the past always stirs up emotions... Those were difficult times for us." 

Wade nodded silently, without looking at Dumbledore's expression. 

The hazy, dream-like figures disappeared. When they reappeared, Ariana was lying pale and lifeless on the ground, and her eyes were void of light. 

Aberforth immediately rushed to his sister's side, while the young Dumbledore stood frozen with his face blank with shock. 

Grindelwald took two steps back, panic etched across his features. He glanced at Dumbledore, as though wanting to say something, but before Dumbledore could look his way, he turned and fled in haste. 

A diamond-shaped pendant flashed briefly in the scene, its central gem glowed vividly red like a dazzling, fiery spark. 

The scenes shifted rapidly. The image of a funeral flitted by, followed by Aberforth furiously breaking Dumbledore's nose. Blood streaming from his face, Dumbledore clutched his injured nose but did not retaliate. 

Then the once spirited and ambitious young man grew silent and burdened by grief. His dreams came to an abrupt halt, his ambitions dissolved into nothingness. 

Dumbledore returned to the school and began teaching. Students came and went like a steady stream, their presence and absence blurred into a long, surreal dream. 

And then Grindelwald reappeared. 

He had grown taller and more robust, and he was wielding a new wand—the legendary Elder Wand, said to be invincible. 

He traveled across nations and delivered speeches from lofty platforms. 

The fear and panic that once marked his face had vanished entirely. His demeanor alternated between stern and calm or fervent yet sincere, his gaze emanated a compelling power that drew others to follow him. 

Behind him, his followers grew in number. They were sharp-eyed, fanatical, and fiercely loyal—completely unlike Voldemort's Death Eaters, who groveled on their knees to kiss his shoes. 

Grindelwald and his Alliance launched relentless terror campaigns—even against the elderly, pregnant women, infants... Anyone who stood in his way was ruthlessly eliminated. 

They destroyed streets and burned buildings without a second thought about the innocent lives caught in the crossfire. 

Some among the Alliance, still burdened by conscience, struggled with guilt and hesitation, but Grindelwald would place a hand on their shoulders and earnestly reassure them: 

"The sacrifices we make now, however painful, are for the future of the wizarding world. They are the tragic yet unavoidable cost of progress. Believe me, child, I feel the same sorrow." 

"But if victory could be achieved through mere words of persuasion, we wouldn't need war!" 

"The masses are blind and foolish; the Ministry of Magic is bloated and inept. They refuse to acknowledge the truth—that this world is one where the strong devour the weak! If wizards are to live with dignity, we must speak through blood and fire!" 

"Child, though those lives were lost, we must bear the will of the dead and continue forward, continue to fight. This is far harder than simply dying." 

"For those watching us from beyond—our parents, our children—for those whose lives we had no choice but to take, we must bear the burden of condemnation and misunderstanding, burn everything we have, and carve out a new future for the wizarding world." 

"I firmly believe that we can elevate wizards, break the Statute of Secrecy, and force Muggles to recognize that we are the superior race. I will dedicate my entire life to this cause until our people can live without fear!" 

"Hold your head high, child. You have not committed a crime. You are merely trading the 'few' for the 'many,' the 'present' for the 'future'!" 

"Even if no one understands our pain or acknowledges our sacrifices, we will secure the hope of a better life for countless others. History will prove that we were right!" 

"If you don't understand, then there's no need to think. I will think for you, and I will bear the sins for you. You have only one task—" 

"Follow me!" 

A black tide, ignited by the flames of war, swept through country after country. 

The wizards adorned with distinctive crests bore resolute expressions and unyielding determination. Driven by a profound sense of purpose, they left devastation in their wake. 

They ignored the terror and wails of the people, but Dumbledore could not. 

In the end, he decided to intervene. However, bound by a blood pact promising never to harm each other, Dumbledore was forced to entrust this critical mission to Newt Scamander. 

What followed was a story Wade had read in history books and seen in films. 

Traveling alongside Dumbledore, Wade witnessed Grindelwald's repeated attempts to seize greater power and wield unparalleled might, thwarted time and again by Dumbledore and Scamander. 

Ultimately, as the Muggle world's war neared its end, Grindelwald's Alliance also met its demise. He and Dumbledore engaged in a climactic duel, and Grindelwald suffered a crushing defeat. 

Dumbledore claimed the Elder Wand, while Grindelwald was imprisoned in the highest cell of Nurmengard. 

Time raced by, and the ethereal vision of Dumbledore transformed into the familiar figure Wade knew. 

His long white hair and beard framed a face full of wisdom and composure, born of the passage of time. He sat in an armchair and gazed pensively ahead. 

Standing before him was a man in a deep teal uniform, with a thin face and neatly combed short hair.

"…He regrets his actions," the man said. "He wishes to see you, to apologize in person." 

After a long pause, Dumbledore replied, "That won't be necessary." 

"If he truly feels shame and remorse for the terror he brought to the world... then he should atone to those he harmed." 

The visions dissolved like mist. Wade blinked, and when he came back to himself, he saw that he and Dumbledore were still in the headmaster's office. 

It was as if they had never left. 

Fawkes the phoenix and the Sorting Hat were still amusing themselves with a few tiny magic pets. The portraits of former headmasters on the walls appeared to be napping—or perhaps only pretending to nap. 

Dumbledore sat down in his armchair, his expression was weary and aged, as though he were on the verge of collapse. 

But his back remained straight. 

Wade sat nearby, and shifted his gaze slightly to avoid looking directly at Dumbledore in his current state. 

After a long silence, Dumbledore finally spoke. "If you wish to ask me anything, now would be the time." 

Wade wondered what Dumbledore thought he might ask. 

Is it about his relationship with Grindelwald? Or about the brief missteps of his youth? 

Or is it about the Elder Wand in his slender, knotted fingers? Or perhaps his pursuit of the Deathly Hallows? 

Wade shook his head lightly. "I have nothing to ask." 

After a brief pause, he added, "What about you? Do you have anything you wish to ask me?" 

Dumbledore looked down at Wade, his eyes were slightly moist which made them resemble Ariana's eyes from earlier illusion. 

He, of course, knew what Wade meant by asking that question—it mirrored his own sentiment from a moment before: 

'If you ask, I will answer. With honesty, and without reservation.' 

Wade wasn't someone who trusted others easily. But... 

When an old man bares his most painful and unflattering wounds, raw and bleeding, simply to teach you what is right and wrong—what reason is there to hide anything? 

For Dumbledore, that one response from Wade was enough. 

He had seen Wade's honesty and trust, just as he had once seen Grindelwald's innate cruelty and coldness. 

A century ago, he had ignored the warnings of his subconscious. 

This time, he chose to heed them. 

"I don't have anything to ask either," Dumbledore said. "I think I'll wait until you're ready to tell me... whenever, about anything." 

The conversation ended there. Wade knew it was time to leave. He stood up and prepared to bid farewell, but paused at the doorway, grappling with an inner conflict. 

"Professor," he said, turning back, "may I ask if you have any plans next weekend?" 

"Nothing more important than possibly heading to the Three Broomsticks for a drink," Dumbledore replied. 

"Well, there's a place I'd like to invite you to visit," Wade said, carefully choosing his words. 

Dumbledore smiled. "I'd be delighted." 

... 

December 8th, another full moon night. 

The night was beautiful. A massive full moon hung in the sky, its shadows sketched out patterns that invited imagination. 

Wade took out the leaf, and Sirius examined it carefully. Nearby, Lupin, in his werewolf form, lay on the ground and his sharp eyes were also inspecting the mandrake leaf. 

Having taken the Wolfsbane Potion, Lupin had transformed but retained his human consciousness. Sirius casually leaned against the werewolf without a care. 

"It's perfect, fully intact," Sirius said with a satisfied smile. He added, "Just to double-check… over the past month, you didn't let it leave your mouth even once, did you?" 

"No," Wade replied, shaking his head. He carefully placed the leaf into a transparent crystal bottle, and positioned it to absorb the moonlight. 

Lupin let out a relieved sigh. 

"There were a few times I saw you talking as if everything was normal, and I thought you might've already failed," Lupin admitted. 

Not wanting to embarrass the younger wizard, Lupin didn't probe further, simply made mental notes of tips to help if they needed to restart the process next month. 

He never doubted Wade's determination—only worried about how failure might affect his spirits. 

Sirius couldn't hold back. "How did you manage it? When I practiced, I kept swallowing that cursed leaf by accident. I failed several times and had to glue my teeth together before I finally made it through a month." 

Wade chuckled. "I used a Sticking Charm too. Otherwise, I just practiced getting used to its presence." 

Sirius shook his head, still incredulous. 

"Let's move on to the next step," Lupin said. 

Wade nodded. He plucked a strand of his own hair and placed it in the bottle, followed by a silver teaspoon of dew and the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth. 

Sirius picked up the bottle, gently shaking it to observe how the ingredients mixed. 

"Looks good," he said, setting the bottle down. 

He and Wade carried the crystal bottle into the cellar in the courtyard. The cellar was deep, and Lupin had already dug a narrow, deep hole inside—just big enough to hold the bottle. 

Wade placed it into the hole, stuffed it with straw, and covered it with a stone slab and a thick felt cloth. The two emerged from the cellar, and Sirius locked the trapdoor. 

"It won't be opened until the next thunderstorm," Lupin explained. "Sirius and I have also cast protective spells around the area to keep any rats or pests from causing trouble." 

The crystal bottle used for Animagus training needed to be kept in a quiet, dark place to ensure it remained undisturbed and unseen. 

This means that it cannot be placed in a location where people or animals frequently pass by, nor can it be checked on from time to time. 

As a result, some people bury it deep in a remote forest. 

For wizards, the most frustrating thing is when, after a year and a half of preparation, everything is finally set. On a stormy night, they go to retrieve their crystal bottle, only to find that it has already been unearthed by curious animals. 

Sirius and his friends had fallen into many traps before and collected a lot of information, so they had made all kinds of preparations for Wade long ago. 

"Remember the incantation," Sirius reminded him. "Every day at sunrise and sunset, you must point your wand at your heart and say the incantation 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus.' Not once can you forget. If you miss a day, you'll have to start over." 

"Yes," Wade nodded. "I've prepared an alarm clock that will remind me every morning and evening." 

"One isn't enough," Sirius said with a grim expression, as if recalling past regrets. "Prepare several... just in case you oversleep one day." 

Wade and Lupin couldn't help but laugh. 

After the laughter subsided, Lupin couldn't help but feel a bit emotional, a little melancholic. 

"The next storm could come at any time, but you'll only be ready when you feel the second heartbeat." 

Sirius added, "Even once you feel that heartbeat, the habit of saying the incantation every morning and night cannot change. You can't miss any of them until the time is right." 

Wade recalled something he had been worried about and asked, "Do you know… if there's any way to influence the form after transformation?" 

"What do you want to transform into?" Sirius asked. 

"Well..." Wade hesitated. "I can't exactly turn into a slug or an ant, can I? Then what's the point of transformation?" 

Sirius burst into laughter. 

"That's not something we can control, Wade!" he said. "You see, James and I originally wanted to turn into lions, but in the end, he became a stag, and I became a black dog." 

Lupin added, "If you want to know in advance what your Animagus form will be, you can learn the Patronus Charm first. Usually, even if the shape of your Patronus isn't exactly the same as your Animagus form, they won't be too different." 

"But I don't think you need to worry about turning into something like a slug or an ant," Sirius said. "The Animagus form has a lot to do with the wizards themselves. It's a reflection of what's deep inside you." 

The group discussed for a while, and Sirius shared some funny stories from their time practicing the Animagus transformation. It wasn't until late at night that Wade decided to return to school.

After all, it was still Tuesday, and they had classes the next day.

When it was time to say goodbye, Wade said, "Remus, let's go out this weekend."

Lupin paused for a moment, his wolfish face suddenly becoming serious. "This time too...?"

Wade nodded.

"Alright," Lupin agreed, then asked, "Just the two of us again?"

Wade was silent for a moment.

He looked at Sirius—Sirius was watching them curiously but, with good sense, didn't press further.

"Does Mr. Black have time?" Wade asked.

"Of course, I'd be happy to join!" Sirius immediately said, excited. "Remus has been so mysterious about this. I asked him, but he wouldn't say anything."

Wade smiled and then said, "This time, Michael and the others won't be involved, but Dumbledore will come."

Lupin's eyes widened in surprise, and then a smile spread across his face.

"If Dumbledore's involved, everything should go more smoothly," he said happily.

Lupin had always been vaguely worried that Wade didn't trust Dumbledore.

Both of them had changed his life and done so much for him. He didn't want to see any conflict between them.

Now, it seemed that, in ways he couldn't see, Wade and Dumbledore had built enough trust between them.

Lupin felt relieved and happy about this.

After Wade left, Sirius immediately grabbed Lupin by the neck.

"This time you have to tell me, right? What's your secret?"

Lupin thought for a moment before replying, "Actually, there are many things I haven't figured out myself. I can only tell you what happened before, and you can judge for yourself…"

Note: In this novel, after transforming into a werewolf, if the mind remains clear, the person can speak.

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