Dumbledore descended the ladder at a leisurely pace, but as he caught sight of the waterfall-framed gateway in the distance, the smile faded from his face.
The presence of both goblin and troll security guards spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation.
"It seems... the Department of Mysteries has lost something of great importance," Dumbledore murmured, turning to the phoenix at his side. "Fawkes, you worked hard getting me aboard earlier. Why don't you take a well-earned rest?"
Fawkes, hovering in midair, cocked his head, a curious glint in his eyes.
"I'm afraid it'll have to wait—after all, they're still on holiday," Dumbledore said with a wry smile. "But I have a feeling you may need to find him before long."
Fawkes nodded in an almost human gesture, then with a powerful beat of his wings, soared skyward and vanished into the clouds.
Once his companion had departed, Dumbledore produced a slip of parchment, glanced at it, and was instantly drawn into a swirling vortex...
The world spun, and he found himself stepping into a bright, airy reception room. The parchment in his hand burst into flame and crumbled away—he couldn't recall the address it had held.
Pale wooden floors, handwoven linen rugs, snow-white walls, and elegantly curved wooden chairs with soft cushions—everything spoke of Scandinavian simplicity and subtle craftsmanship. Most striking of all, a handsome semicircular table was piled high with an assortment of candies.
A man in the dark robes of an Unspeakable greeted him. "Professor Dumbledore, we're honored you could spare time from your busy schedule to meet with us."
No matter the country, the Department of Mysteries always enjoyed extraordinary autonomy—often operating beyond the reach of even the Minister for Magic. Its staff, known as Unspeakables, were shrouded in secrecy, charged with the most classified magical research in the world.
Dumbledore smiled and shook the man's hand. "It's clear this isn't a simple matter. May I ask your name?"
"Call me Björn," the Unspeakable replied gravely. "Professor Dumbledore, shall we get straight to business?"
Dumbledore settled into a chair and plucked a sweet from the table. "Sweden's Aurors have a reputation for swift action. Why such... chaos this time?"
Björn looked uncomfortable, clearing his throat. "Since you've signed the magical confidentiality contract, I'll be direct... The lost artifact is the Odin's Eye. It's the secret behind the Aurors' speed—it allows us to make accurate short-term prophecies."
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "So you use short-term prophecies to set up ambushes ahead of time, boosting your efficiency—a method I know all too well."
He was no stranger to prophecy as a tool; Grindelwald had once led his forces using similar means.
"Exactly," Björn agreed. "The British Department of Mysteries has a similar artifact. As I understand it, theirs can collect and record genuine prophecies."
"Its reach is much broader than Odin's Eye, gathering prophecies from across the world. But those are made by true Seers—their content is vague, and of limited practical value."
Dumbledore made no comment, glancing down at the documents. "How can you be sure Odin's Eye is still in Sweden?"
Björn explained, "If it ever leaves the country, Odin's Eye immediately returns to the Ministry by magical means—a safeguard built in from the start. If it's used again, we'll be able to pinpoint its location." He handed over several sheets of parchment. "Please, take a look."
"The real problem is, Odin's Eye hasn't reacted at all—leaving us blind and unable to track the thief's movements."
After reviewing the files, Dumbledore mused, "It seems the culprit knows Odin's Eye inside and out. Is there any chance it's an inside job?"
Björn shook his head emphatically. "Impossible. We've screened all our Unspeakables—they've each passed through the Thief's Downfall, and none have shown signs of magical mental disturbance."
"I see." Dumbledore had signed the same confidentiality contract and knew all too well what "mental disturbance" meant—a magical punishment that even he couldn't evade, requiring long convalescence to recover from.
If no Unspeakable had suffered such symptoms, then the traitor must be an outside force.
Fingers interlaced, Dumbledore regarded Björn with piercing eyes. "Whoever's behind this seems to enjoy playing games with you. That's never a good sign."
"And what of Gungnir's Spear? The dossier barely mentions it. You don't seem to consider it important?"
Björn replied, "Gungnir's Spear holds many secrets, but those we could uncover have already been put to use. It functions much like a wand—capable of channeling lightning and water at will. The Water-Making Spell and early weather charms were developed from studying it."
"To unlock its deeper mysteries would require the power of Ancient Magic. That's why our focus is firmly on Odin's Eye."
"A fascinating revelation," Dumbledore said, his eyes betraying little surprise. "Could you tell me more about this Ancient Magic?"
Björn's face grew even more solemn. "That's an eternal and strictly classified subject. The ultimate goal of every Department of Mysteries is to study Ancient Magic—the source of all magical power."
"Records show that every magical artifact in the Department can display powers beyond reason when fueled by Ancient Magic. This force is unimaginably old—dating back to the dawn of wizardkind. Yet so few have ever mastered it. You understand the implications, Professor?"
Dumbledore blinked thoughtfully. "I've read accounts—there were indeed wizards at Hogwarts who once wielded Ancient Magic. Perhaps that's why they hid themselves so well." He held thumb and forefinger close together. "I know next to nothing, to be honest."
"I'm curious, though—how did your Department come to know so much about it? Has there ever been a true master of Ancient Magic among you?"
"You're quite right," Björn confirmed. "The Department of Mysteries has a long history—far older than the Ministry, or even the old Wizards' Council."
"That's because the founders of every Department of Mysteries across the world were wizards who commanded this power. They created these organizations to further their understanding of it."
For the first time, genuine surprise flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. "That explains the Department's unique status..."
"Do you have any records of other ancient organizations? There might be clues there."
"We're searching already," Björn replied. "Not just in Britain—we've reached out to Departments of Mysteries in other countries for support."
"Excellent," Dumbledore said with a nod.
Björn rose. "Shall we get to work, Professor? If this drags on, the Swedish Ministry may take drastic action."
He produced several photographs—images of a pale corpse. "This is the body we found. The hair bears magical traces of the Severing Charm."
"Polyjuice Potion?" Dumbledore asked, rising to his feet as well. "If I wanted to examine the body myself, would the Ministry stand in my way?"
"Not yet," Björn said, a touch of resignation in his voice. "But in another couple of days… Well, let's just say cooperation will be even harder to come by. We haven't exactly been forthcoming with them, either."
Dumbledore stroked his beard, the whole affair now crystal clear in his mind.
Because of the Department's secrecy, they couldn't reveal the truth to the Ministry. The loss of Odin's Eye left the Swedish Ministry floundering, unable to track the attacker. The Obscurial was a vital clue—hence the Ministry had enlisted Newt in hopes of solving the case quickly.
"On the hunt for another Obscurial, are we... Newt, you must be getting used to this by now," Dumbledore murmured, shaking his head as he and Björn left the reception room together.
🔥 Want to read the next 20 chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]