After muttering Voldemort's name a few times, Dawn slowly unclenched his fist and tried to calm himself.
He knew very well that pure anger did nothing but harm oneself.
Still, he planned to take some time to visit Voldemort's old home… and scatter his father's bones to the wind!
Let's see how that monster plans to resurrect then.
Dawn ground his teeth and let out a cold snort.
But in the next second, another thought struck him.
Now that Voldemort could move freely again, it would be far safer to hire someone else to scatter those ashes. That way, there'd be no risks of exposure.
Having made up his mind to strike at the root, Dawn set the Voldemort matter aside for now.
He knew what mattered most at the moment was finding a safe place to settle down.
The Knight Bus jolted harder with every second, as if it were diving at top speed over an uneven, bumpy road.
Dawn's head, already aching from the Cruciatus Curse, throbbed like it was about to explode.
He forced himself to focus on the plan ahead, trying to ignore the turmoil in his stomach.
For a wizard wanting to hide his identity, blending into the Muggle world was far safer than staying within wizarding society.
After all, the wizarding world was small. Even its most prosperous locations existed as villages at best.
And those villages had already been thoroughly infiltrated by the twenty-eight Sacred Pureblood families. Even the shady characters lurking in Knockturn Alley often had dealings with them due to the black market.
Getting exposed was all too easy.
And considering how the Avery family had already smeared his name in The Daily Prophet, they'd surely be happy to kick him while he was down.
Dawn narrowed his eyes and etched the name "Avery" deep into his mind—he wasn't the forgiving type. When the chance came, he'd make sure to get revenge.
Letting out a cold humph, Dawn pulled his thoughts back and continued thinking about where he could go.
If he hid in the Muggle world, he'd certainly be safer.
However—
As long as he wanted to keep advancing in magic, he couldn't avoid dealing with books, potion ingredients, and other resources.
None of these were available in the Muggle world.
"Looks like I'll have to leave Britain, then."
After weighing all the factors, Dawn made his decision.
But if he left Britain—where should he go?
Closing his eyes, he searched his memory of the original books.
The Harry Potter series focused almost entirely on Britain, but there had been brief mentions of other wizarding communities.
Like Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France, and Durmstrang Institute in Northern Europe, which had appeared during the Triwizard Tournament.
But purely educational institutions were of no use to him—he couldn't exactly sneak into one of those schools.
What mattered most was access to useful resources.
Dawn tapped his wooden wand lightly with his index finger.
After thinking it over, he felt that France and the rest of Europe weren't suitable for his growth.
Those places were filled with deeply rooted ancient families. Both above and below the surface, everything operated according to "rules" set in stone long ago.
Trying to make a name for himself—or even just carve out a living—would take far too long.
That didn't sit well with Dawn.
But if not Europe, then where?
America?
Sure, its magical government was relatively young and lacked entrenched powers.
But their policies were notoriously strict, and in terms of magical heritage and overall development, they lagged behind other nations.
Japan? It was debatable whether its magical prowess even surpassed America's.
Dawn mulled over every possibility, but none of the countries truly satisfied him.
Until suddenly, as he scanned a mental image of the world map, one name popped into his mind—
Egypt!
His eyes lit up.
Of course—Egypt!
In terms of magical heritage, Egypt—often regarded as the cradle of magic—was as rich as anywhere on Earth.
More importantly, Egypt was known for rampant smuggling. Its wizarding world was a chaotic mix of all sorts. While it did have a Ministry of Magic, its governance was minimal.
In fact, the Curse-Breakers under their jurisdiction were more famous than their enforcers.
The more he thought about it, the more Dawn felt that this was the perfect destination!
A land of loose order and countless tombs meant far more opportunities to make money—conveniently and frequently.
Not to mention…
The pyramids. The pharaohs. The mummies… Every one of them piqued his curiosity!
Now that his destination was decided, Dawn turned to the question of how to get to Egypt.
Apparition was out of the question—he didn't know any trustworthy wizards.
So the most practical route would be through Muggle transportation: airplanes or ships, for example.
But as an eleven-year-old child with no passport, sneaking into such a journey would absolutely require magical assistance.
And that brought him to another issue—the Trace.
The Trace was the Ministry's way of monitoring underage wizards and preventing them from freely using magic in the Muggle world.
Any magical activity—spells, potion brewing, and more—could trigger it.
If he were in a wizarding area or near other wizards, the Ministry usually wouldn't act.
But if the Trace picked up magic in a Muggle environment, they'd send someone to investigate without hesitation.
Dawn kept his hand in his robe, fingers wrapped around his wand.
To be honest, he wasn't even sure whether his wand had the Trace on it.
The books didn't say much about the specifics, and back at Flourish and Blotts or Hogwarts Library, he hadn't thought to look into it.
By logic, his wand shouldn't be tracked yet.
Hermione had practiced spells before starting school and didn't trigger anything. Dawn had done the same, with no consequences.
He suspected that maybe the Trace was installed over the summer break after first year.
But he wasn't about to place his safety on a guess.
Thinking back to the magical ceremony they went through while crossing the Black Lake during the Hogwarts welcome feast, he couldn't help but wonder if the Trace had been silently applied then.
Just to be safe—
Dawn decided to buy a few spare wands.
.....
"Leaky Cauldron, next stop!"
He didn't know how much time had passed when the conductor up front shouted out.
Dawn returned to his senses and stepped off the Knight Bus.
The Leaky Cauldron still looked just as small and shabby as ever—probably would for another few centuries.
Creak—
He pushed open the door.
Without stopping, he headed straight for the back room. He tapped the bricks with his wand and stepped into Diagon Alley without hesitation.
There was no time to waste!
This half-afternoon window was the safest period he had. He needed to get everything done—and get out of Britain—before nightfall.
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