Chapter 201: Jackdaw Type II! Stripping the Shell of Memory
"There's a fatal flaw in your logic."
Cassius turned around, directly interrupting Hermione's feverish calculations.
The quill pen came to a sudden halt.
Hermione looked up: "What flaw?"
Cassius walked to the workbench, his fingertip tapping on the sketch she had just drawn.
"Stripping the memory shell and using traces from the hiding place to reverse-engineer the Horcrux's location. The direction is correct."
His voice turned cold.
"But how can you guarantee that when you strip its memory, it won't bite you back?"
Hermione's expression changed slightly.
Cassius picked up a crystal bottle.
Inside the bottle was a sealed Dementor core fragment; the grayish-black crystal clung to the glass wall like a shadow that wasn't quite dead.
"A remnant soul's memory isn't data."
He stared at Hermione.
"It's a weapon."
Hermione's fingertips stiffened.
"Tonight, it could use Harry's jealousy and your competitiveness to attack you."
Cassius placed the crystal bottle onto the goblin steelworkbench.
"Next time, it could cram those old grudges from the Gaunt Shack into your head."
"You would see Tom Riddle's childhood."
"His orphanage, his resentment, and how he rotted away bit by bit into Lord Voldemort."
With every sentence Cassius spoke, Hermione's face grew a shade paler.
"In the end, you'll think you're reading a memory."
"But in reality, it's rewriting you."
The Workshop fell silent.
In that moment, Hermione finally understood what she had missed.
She only wanted to find clues.
But a Horcrux isn't a book.
It's a piece of the Dark Lord's soul that still knows how to bite.
As a Muggle-born little Witch, how could she possibly withstand the contamination from the depths of Lord Voldemort's soul?
With courage?
Don't be ridiculous.
Courage can't be used as a brain.
Hermione's throat tightened: "Then... what do we do?"
Cassius did not comfort her.
He uncorked the crystal bottle.
The grayish-black debris rolled onto the goblin steelsurface, and a breath of despair instantly burrowed out, like a cold hand grabbing the back of one's neck.
Hermione instinctively took half a step back.
Cassius, however, didn't even blink.
"Add a second lock to the Jackdaw."
He raised his hand, and threads of magic pulled from his fingertips, so thin they were nearly invisible.
The next second.
The threads sliced off a piece of Dementor core fragment thinner than a fingernail.
"Change the locking mechanism to—"
Cassius looked up.
"Only bite the dark red, don't touch people."
Hermione's pupils suddenly brightened.
She understood.
It wasn't about letting the Jackdaw touch the memory directly.
It was about making the Dementor core the blade's edge.
Dementors crave soul energy and sniff out negative emotions.
It has no interest in the 'information shell' that carries the memory.
As long as unicorn horn powder is used to isolate the contamination and goblin steel is used to restrict the blade's edge, the Jackdaw can slice only the remnant soulfragments on the Horcrux without touching the memory itself.
This isn't reading.
This is breaking the venomous fangs before skinning the prey.
"I'll draw the isolation circuit!"
Hermione grabbed her quill again, practically pouncing onto the blueprints.
The fear was still there.
But the light in her eyes was even more fierce.
"The Dementor core cannot be directly connected to the main circuit; a unicorn horn powder isolation layer must be added in between."
"goblin steel must serve as a physical barrier to restrict its direction of consumption."
"Then carve Druid runes for energy neutralization to prevent the dark red remnant soul from back-surging along the circuit..."
The quill made hurried scratching sounds on the parchment.
The ink spread rapidly.
Her whole being seemed to be reignited.
Scared?
Of course she was scared.
But being scared didn't stop her from dismantling it.
Cassius glanced at her, his tone cold.
"Don't die on the blueprints."
Hermione didn't even look up: "Then don't leave dangerous materials lying around."
Cassius said nothing more and turned to leave.
The door to the Jackdaw Workshop closed behind him.
In the shadows of the corridor, Draco stood there.
He didn't raise his eyebrows like usual, nor did he put on the airs of a young Master Malfoy.
His face was pulled very tight.
"Cassius."
Cassius didn't stop walking.
Draco followed him, lowering his voice.
"If all the Horcruxes are found, will you go yourself?"
Cassius didn't even turn his head.
"Depends on the value of the materials."
Draco fell silent.
With just those few words, he understood everything.
Cassius didn't trust Dumbledore.
Nor would he bet the Malfoy Family's lives on that old fox's so-called plan.
If a Horcrux was valuable, he would dismantle it himself.
If a Horcrux was dangerous, he would also deal with it personally.
Not for justice.
But for control.
That was the real Cassius.
Cold enough to make one uncomfortable, yet more reliable than any promise.
Draco took a deep breath.
"Count me in."
Cassius finally paused for a moment.
Draco gripped his wand tightly, his voice still somewhat strained, but he didn't back away.
"The Horcrux hunt, count me in."
"I can be responsible for protection and evacuation."
"My Water Cut can now be released continuously, and the defensive range is larger than before."
Speaking to this point, he paused.
As if afraid of being rejected, he forcibly swallowed that bit of unease.
"I won't be a drag."
Cassius turned his face sideways.
There was no encouragement.
No praise.
Only a single command.
"Starting tomorrow morning, practice Water Cut on non-physical targets."
Draco froze.
Non-physical targets?
The next second, he understood.
Dementors.
Boggarts.
Even... souls.
Cassius wasn't rejecting him.
He was pushing him toward the real battlefield.
Draco's fingers tightened, his wand almost digging into his palm.
This time, he felt no frustration.
He only felt his chest burning intensely.
He no longer wanted to be just the protected older brother.
He wanted to stand at the gaming table.
To become the blade by Cassius's side that could cut through trouble.
And behind them, inside the Jackdaw Workshop.
Luna Lovegood squatted by the storage rack, head tilted, staring at the cracked old bottle.
It had once contained the diary's remnant soul.
Cracks like tiny serpent patterns crawled over the bottle's body.
"Inside the old bottle,"
Luna said softly.
"is a piece of shed snakeskin that hasn't eaten its fill."
Beside her, Nora immediately lowered her head to record.
Luna then pointed to another new bottle.
Inside was the newly stripped remnant soul fragment, its dark red glimmer swimming against the glass wall.
"Inside the new bottle is a snake scale that was just plucked off."
Nora wrote even more earnestly.
Luna blinked, her voice as light as a dream.
"They are both waiting for someone to reach out their hand."
At the Workshop entrance, Cassius had stopped at some point.
He looked at Luna.
"Waiting for whom?"
Luna turned around.
Her silver-grey eyes did not look at the bottle, nor did they look at Cassius.
Instead, they looked past his shoulder, toward the direction of the Headmaster's Office.
"An..."
She said slowly.
"Old bird who has worn too many rings."
Hermione's quill stopped.
The tip of the pen soaked a blob of black ink into the parchment.
Her heart suddenly sank.
Dumbledore.
The remnant soul's inducement of Dumbledore had not ended at all.
The clue of the black ring wasn't just the location of a Horcrux.
It was itself a blade.
A poisoned blade specifically delivered to Dumbledore's hand.
Just waiting for him to reach out.
Just waiting for him to put it on.
The next morning.
Before dawn.
The gates of Hogwarts blasted open with a roar.
"Bang—!"
The loud noise tore through the Castle's tranquility.
Stone chips flew, and a cold wind poured into the entrance hall.
Two Wizards wearing Ministry of Magic uniforms were the first to burst in.
Behind them was an entire squad of Aurors.
The lead observer held a piece of parchment high, his face carrying an unsuppressible arrogance.
"By the temporary oversight order signed by Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge!"
The sharp voice echoed in the hall.
"Hogwarts is suspected of illegal imprisonment of Ministry-regulated creatures!"
"Suspected of private manufacturing of extremely dangerous alchemical items!"
"Now, immediately seize the Jackdaw Workshop!"
"Confiscate all Dementor cores!"
"Take away all relevant sealed samples!"
Every sentence was like a knife, stabbing straight at the Jackdaw Workshop.
They weren't here to investigate.
They were here to plunder.
Professor McGonagall hurried over, her face ashen, blocking their path directly.
"Hogwarts has the right to handle security matters within the school!"
"You cannot barge in like this!"
The observer gave a cold laugh, his wand raised, almost pointing it right in Professor McGonagall's face.
"Security matters?"
He deliberately raised his voice.
"Minerva, your idea of security matters is letting a Slytherinstudent lock up Azkaban guards in bottles like pets?"
The entrance hall fell into a dead silence.
The Aurors gripped their wands tightly.
The emblems on the Ministry of Magic uniforms glinted coldly in the firelight.
In this moment, everyone understood.
Fudge no longer intended to pretend.
The Ministry of Magic had finally dropped all pretenses.
They were forcibly intervening in Hogwarts.
Chapter 202: A Ministry Search Warrant? Say That Again!
"Cassius Malfoy, for the unauthorized capture of Ministry-regulated creatures and the private manufacture of dangerous alchemical items of unknown origin, you have seriously threatened the safety of all staff and students at Hogwarts!"
The Ministry observer's shrill voice echoed in the Entrance Hall, every word hitting like a hammer on the hearts of the students who had risen early for breakfast in the Great Hall.
The students were in an uproar, whispering among themselves, their faces filled with shock and unease.
"What? Malfoy captured a Dementor?"
"I heard he was the one who solved the trouble on the train. How did that become a crime?"
"Are the Ministry people crazy? Do they want to let those monsters out again?"
Inside the Hospital Wing, Harry, who had just been able to get out of bed, heard the announcement, and his face instantly turned pale.
Ron supported him, his face flushed with anger.
"Those bastards!" For the first time, Ron took the initiative to curse the Ministry on Cassius's behalf. "Their monsters almost kissed Harry, and now they want to take away the thing that saved him? Have their brains been eaten by slugs?"
Harry didn't speak, but he clenched his fists tightly.
He knew better than anyone that if the "Jackdaw" was taken away, if those Dementor cores were confiscated, the remnant soul in his forehead that had just been suppressed would soon regain control.
At that point, he would truly become a vessel for Lord Voldemort.
Just as the observer was enjoying being the center of attention and was about to order the Aurors to conduct a forced search, a cold voice came from the stairs.
"Say that again."
Cassius Malfoy slowly stepped out of the shadows.
He wasn't wearing his school robes, but a simple set of black combat gear. His hands were in his pockets, and his pace was as leisurely as if he were taking a stroll in his own back garden.
But the pure, undisguised sense of pressure radiating from him caused the temperature in the entire Entrance Hall to drop suddenly.
The observer's smile froze on his face, and he instinctively took half a step back.
Cassius didn't explain, nor did he argue.
He simply took an image-storing crystal bottle from his pocket and tossed it at the observer's feet like a piece of trash.
"Clack."
The crystal bottle didn't break, but a clear image suddenly projected from within—
On the Hogwarts Express, a Dementor was leaning down, its rotting mouth almost pressed against Harry Potter's face!
The surrounding students let out a collective gasp.
Immediately after, Hermione Granger stepped out from behind Cassius, holding a stack of parchment, her voice crisp and calm.
"This is the complete record report. On September 1st, on the Hogwarts Express, a Dementor proactively crossed the Ministry-mandated cordon and entered a student carriage without any provocation. The cold path spread three hundred and twenty feet, causing seven students to faint on the spot, and the metal inner walls of the train showed secondary ashing. All the above data has physical traces available for verification."
Hermione's report was like a series of precise scalpels, instantly slicing through the Ministry's hypocritical exterior.
The observer's face turned from red to white, then from white to green.
He stubbornly insisted, "Images... images can be manipulated! This report also doesn't prove—"
Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a chill at his waist.
Cassius was already standing in front of him, though no one saw when he moved.
With a crisp crack, the high-level protective badge the observer had worn for years, issued by the Ministry, was crushed into powder by Cassius's bare hands!
Metal fragments trickled down from between Cassius's fingers.
Cassius looked at him expressionlessly, his voice low and dangerous.
"I told you... say that again."
The observer's pupils constricted sharply, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
He could feel that the killing intent radiating from the boy before him was real and undeniable.
If he said one more word, the next thing to be crushed might be his throat.
"Stop, Cassius!"
Dumbledore finally arrived. He tried to de-escalate the situation, not wanting Hogwarts and the Ministry to completely fall out in front of the students.
"This is a special envoy from the Ministry. We should—"
"special envoy?"
Cassius sneered, tearing away the facade right in front of everyone.
"A Ministry of Magic that allowed Dementors to attack a student train, accelerating the awakening of the Dark Lord's remnant soul inside Harry Potter, now sends a 'special envoy' to seize the only tool capable of dealing with that remnant soul?"
These words were like a thunderclap, exploding in the minds of all the students!
Harry had Lord Voldemort's remnant soul inside him?!
This matter was previously known only to a very few.
Now, Cassius had spoken it out loud in public!
The onlookers clearly connected the three things: "Ministry negligence," "Dementor attack," and "Voldemort inside Harry."
Their gaze toward the Ministry official instantly shifted from confusion to anger and fear.
The atmosphere on the scene changed completely.
Cassius wasn't just good at fighting.
He was even better at attacking the heart, pinning a blame that no one could refute firmly onto his opponent's head!
Driven into a corner, the observer's face flushed. He pulled out the search warrant from his robes and roared with false bravado.
"I have the Minister's authorization! I have the right to search any suspicious location! Get out of my way!"
He directed the Aurors behind him, attempting to force their way toward the Room of Requirement.
Cassius didn't move.
He didn't even lift an eyelid, merely tilting his head toward Draco behind him.
"Draco."
"Yes."
Draco took a step forward. Facing the aggressive Aurors, he showed no fear at all.
He didn't even draw his wand.
With a flick of his finger, a drop of water flew out, instantly stretching into a faint blue water line thinner than a strand of hair.
"Swish—!"
The water line traced an arc almost invisible to the naked eye, precisely slicing through the edge of the search warrant the observer held high.
The main text of the parchment was not damaged in the slightest, but the ring of shimmering magical seals added by the Ministry around the edge was sliced off cleanly, falling to the ground like a peel of fruit skin.
Draco withdrew his hand and pointed out coldly.
"The authorization seal of the search warrant is laced with a hidden 'Forced Sample Seizure' curse. This has already exceeded the scope of a routine search."
Hermione immediately knelt down, dipped a quill into some of the seal's residue, and quickly wrote an analysis on a piece of parchment: "...Confirmed, contains a variant structure of a Level 3 Plundering Curse."
Professor McGonagall's face had turned from livid to black.
Dumbledore's expression also turned completely cold. He knew he could no longer smooth things over for the Ministry.
Draco's exquisite "Water Cut" was not only a display of his training results but also a resounding slap in the face to the Ministry's underhanded tactics!
Chapter 203: Grand Starfall! The Call from the black ring
The air in the entrance hall had yet to settle.
The Ministry of Magic observers were pale, and the Aurors were caught in a stalemate, neither able to advance nor retreat.
Just then, a magnificent feathered owl burst through a gap in the window, sweeping into the hall with a gust of cold wind.
"Snap."
A letter landed precisely in Professor McGonagall's hand.
Almost at the same time, another identical letter was rolling frantically through the printing presses of The Quibbler.
Before the ink could even dry, the pages were already being stacked in piles.
They would be sent to every Wizarding household in all of Britain.
The letter bore only one signature.
Lucius Malfoy.
Professor McGonagall tore open the letter; with just one glance, her expression darkened completely.
The letter wasn't long.
Yet it was like a blade held directly against the Ministry of Magic's throat.
—The House of Malfoy will fund the establishment of an Independent Investigation Committee and will hold the Ministry of Magic fully accountable for the following three matters.
First, the Dementor attack on the Hogwarts Expresscarrying underage students, which posed a severe threat to student lives.
Second, Ministry of Magic officials using fraudulent authorization in an attempt to illegally seize critical alchemical equipment used for student treatment.
Third, the Ministry of Magic's long-term concealment of the major security risk posed by the Dark Lord's remnant soul within 'The Savior,' a dereliction of duty that directly led to the worsening of the risk.
No one spoke in the hall.
The Ministry of Magic official, who had been aggressive just moments ago, moved his lips but couldn't utter a single word.
This wasn't a protest.
This was a declaration of war.
At the end of the letter, there was a sentence even lighter and colder.
—If the Ministry of Magic insists on seizing the 'Jackdaw' project samples, the House of Malfoy will simultaneously release the full crystal recording of the Dementor attack on the Hogwarts Express to The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler.
Full.
These two words made the observer's vision go dark.
Because everyone knew what a 'full version' meant.
It meant how the Dementors lost control.
It meant how the students screamed.
And it meant the Ministry of Magic's fig leaf would be shredded in front of the entire British Wizarding world.
This wasn't just a slap in the face.
It was grinding their face into the dirt.
...
The Office of the Minister for Magic.
After Cornelius Fudge finished reading the letter, his fingers trembled so much he could barely hold the parchment.
A second later, he swept his hand violently across his desk.
Documents, ink bottles, and teacups were all swept onto the floor.
"Lucius Malfoy!"
Fudge hissed with a roar, "Has he gone mad? This is rebellion!"
Outside the office, the staff were so terrified that no one dared to knock on the door.
Fudge's chest heaved violently; after his fury reached its peak, he suddenly felt a wave of cold.
A cold that made his bones stiffen.
He finally realized.
He had been jointly placed on the pyre of public opinion by Lucius and Cassius, father and son.
Seize it?
That would be admitting to the Ministry's dereliction of duty, admitting to fraudulent authorization, and admitting they wanted to snatch a life-saving tool from a student's hands.
Don't seize it?
That would be bowing down to a twelve-year-old student.
The Ministry of Magic's dignity would be trampled into a joke.
Fudge stared at the broken teacups on the floor, his face turning pale inch by inch.
For the first time, he discovered that some situations couldn't be suppressed just by the Minister's seal.
...
The Hospital Wing.
Ron ran all the way back, panting as if he'd just been chased by a Blast-Ended Skrewt for three laps.
"Harry! You absolutely won't believe it!"
Leaning against the bedframe, he recounted everything that had happened in the hall in fits and starts.
Cassius standing his ground against the Ministry.
Draco using a 'Water Cut' to publicly slice away the hidden Seizure Curse within the search warrant.
Lucius's letter slamming into Hogwarts while simultaneously being sent to The Quibbler for printing.
"They saved the Jackdaw," Ron gasped. "The Ministry people's faces turned green."
Harry leaned against the headboard, silent for a long time.
His expression was complex.
Especially when he heard Draco had stepped in, his fingers subconsciously gripped the bedsheets.
Before, he only thought Malfoy was annoying.
But now, that annoying brat had actually blocked the Ministry's hand for him.
The feeling was hard to describe.
It was very prickly.
Hermione sat to the side, head down as she revised the blueprints for the Stability Ring.
The quill scratched across the parchment, making a light sound.
Harry suddenly spoke, his voice very low.
"I'm sorry."
Hermione's quill paused.
She looked up at him, her eyes showing neither surprise nor immediate forgiveness.
"For what?"
Harry's throat tightened.
He didn't look away from her gaze, but spoke very slowly.
"That day in the Workshop, the remnant soul said I was jealous of you."
He paused, as if pulling a thorn from his chest.
"What it said... wasn't entirely a lie."
The ward fell silent.
Ron opened his mouth, then swallowed his words back down.
This statement was too heavy.
So heavy that even comfort seemed cheap.
Hermione looked at Harry; her gaze didn't soften, nor did she offer him any condescending consolation.
She simply pulled out a new blueprint and placed it by Harry's bed.
The blueprint depicted the isolation circuit of the Stability Ring.
One area was circled in red ink.
Beside it was a line of text.
"Harry's Active Consciousness Protection Zone."
Hermione tapped the spot with her fingertip.
"During the next treatment, you'll have to help me confirm it yourself."
Her voice was calm, but she didn't back down.
"Which words are its, and which words are yours."
Harry looked down at the diagram.
He didn't really understand the dense network of lines.
But those red words, he understood.
This wasn't just Hermione's research alone.
Nor was it Cassius pinning him to the treatment table to solve everything for him.
This was his mind.
His soul.
His battlefield.
Harry looked up and nodded solemnly.
"Okay."
This time, he wasn't just the person being saved.
He was going to join the fight.
...
Inside the Jackdaw Workshop.
Cassius stood before the test bench, the prototype of 'Jackdaw Type II' suspended in front of him.
The black-silver raven feathers were thinner than the original, but the edges were lined with a ring of fine grooves.
Those weren't decorations.
They were blades.
Blades used for stripping memories.
The outer layer of the raven feathers was evenly coated with unicorn horn powder, emitting a very faint white light.
That was the safety zone.
Used to isolate Harry's own consciousness and prevent the Jackdaw from accidentally harming him.
The inner layer was embedded with a grayish-black fragment.
It came from the core of the Dementor leader.
It only reacted to one thing.
The 'Dark Red Old Scars' carrying Voldemort's aura.
Cassius looked up.
"Test subject: diary remnants."
Hermione pushed forward a cracked old bottle.
Inside the bottle, a wisp of dark red mist slithered like a venomous snake.
She let go, and the bottle slid into the testing area.
Cassius didn't waste words.
"Activate."
The Jackdaw Type II unfurled silently.
This time, it didn't tear roughly like the first version.
The raven feathers pressed against the dark red mist, the movement so light it was almost cold-blooded.
Like a scalpel pressing against a wound.
No screaming.
No counterattack.
The tip of the Jackdaw gave a slight flick.
A blurry image was 'peeled' away from the outer layer of the mist.
The observation crystal lit up.
The image shook.
A dilapidated seaside cave.
Pitch-black, bottomless lake water.
In the center of the lake, a stone basin made of crystals stood there all alone.
Deep at the bottom of the basin, the silhouette of a locketwas faintly visible.
The sound of breathing in the Workshop stopped instantly.
Hermione looked up sharply.
Snape's gaze suddenly turned dark.
Dumbledore had just walked into the Workshop; the moment he saw the locket, his expression changed drastically.
It was it.
The second Horcrux.
Dumbledore was about to speak.
But as soon as he raised his hand, Cassius beat him to it and put away the observation crystal.
"Snap."
The image went dark.
Dumbledore's words got stuck in his throat.
Cassius looked at him, his gaze not backing down an inch.
He knew what Dumbledore wanted to do.
Relying on old intel and his own judgment to search alone, touch it alone, and bear it alone.
It sounded grand.
In reality, it was incredibly stupid.
Cassius wouldn't let him go to his death like that again.
Especially when Voldemort was most adept at exploiting 'weaknesses.'
The right to hunt the Horcruxes must be held in his own hands.
It wasn't a discussion.
It was an order.
Just then, a faint cracking sound came from the storage rack.
Everyone turned their heads at the same time.
The observation crystal recording the image of the black ring actually darkened on its own.
Inside the crystal, images of the old Gaunt House slowly emerged.
Dust.
Rotten wood.
Dilapidated walls.
A second later, a line of dark red writing seeped out of nowhere.
Like blood flowing from behind the image.
—Albus, come and take what you owe her.
The temperature in the Workshop seemed to be sucked dry.
Dumbledore's fingers tightened silently beneath his robes.
His knuckles turned white bit by bit.
Snape's expression suddenly turned cold to the extreme.
He snapped his gaze toward Dumbledore, his eyes like knives.
Who'she' was didn't need to be said aloud.
Some names were enough to kill just by their shadows.
Cassius, however, didn't even blink.
He turned on the spot and looked at Draco.
"Notify Father. Prepare the personnel."
Draco nodded immediately.
"Yes."
Cassius's voice grew even colder.
"Additionally, immediately seal off all fireplaces in the Headmaster's office."
"Prohibit any unauthorized Apparition."
"Especially by the Headmaster himself."
Dumbledore looked up at him.
Cassius didn't look away.
Lord Voldemort had already made his move.
That black ring was never the end of the Horcrux clues.
From the very beginning, it was a blade handed to Albus Dumbledore by the remnant soul of Lord Voldemort.
A soul-reaping blade specifically aimed at old wounds.
Chapter 204: Taking Over for the Principal! Don't Go to Your Death, Old Fox
"Albus, if you dare go to the Gaunt Shack alone, I'll pin your wrist into the desk right now."
As Cassius's voice fell, the silver instruments in the Headmaster's Office were still vibrating.
In the observation crystal, dark red handwriting floated.
—Albus, come and take what you owe her.
Dumbledore stood behind the desk, the gentleness on his face shattered completely.
In this moment, he was neither the Hogwarts Principal nor the white wizard.
He was merely an old man being dragged back into the abyss by old wounds.
Snape was the first to react; with a flourish of his black robes, his wand slid into his palm.
"Dumbledore, don't touch it."
His voice was tight with coldness, his anger impossible to suppress.
But Dumbledore acted as if he hadn't heard.
His gaze was nailed to the Gaunt Shack within the crystal, his eyes filled with decades of suppressed regret.
"Ariana..."
The name was whispered softly.
Yet it plunged the Headmaster's Office into an instant, deathly silence.
Hermione gripped her quill so hard her knuckles turned white, stopping her notes entirely.
Draco stood behind Cassius, his lips pressed thin.
He had never seen Dumbledore look like this before.
It wasn't like being pierced through by an enemy.
It was more like cutting open one's own chest and driving the blade further in.
Cassius didn't feel the slightest bit of sympathy.
In his eyes, this move by Lord Voldemort's remnant soulwas bluntly stupid, yet sufficiently cruel.
The black ring wasn't a clue.
It was a fishhook.
The resurrection stone wasn't a gift.
It was poison bait.
And Dumbledore was already on the verge of biting.
The next second, Dumbledore abruptly raised his right hand.
The elder wand slid from his sleeve, its tip glowing with a thin, white light.
Space began to warp.
Snape's expression changed drastically.
"Albus!"
Dumbledore didn't look back, his voice hoarse and unlike himself.
"Severus, I must go and confirm."
"Confirm?"
Cassius let out a cold laugh.
Deep blue light exploded from the depths of his eyes.
Boom!
The entire Workshop felt as if it were being pressed down by an invisible, giant hand.
Bookshelves, workbenches, and storage cabinets groaned simultaneously.
The spatial ripples beneath Dumbledore's feet had just begun to form when they were crushed by the deep blue field.
The white light at the tip of the elder wand was extinguished on the spot.
Bang!
Dumbledore's wrist, holding the wand, was pinned against the desktop, causing the heavy oak table to sink an inch.
Snape's pupils constricted.
McGonagall had just reached the doorway and froze completely.
That was the elder wand.
That was Dumbledore.
Yet Cassius stood there, without even raising a hand, and suppressed his spellcasting.
Dumbledore looked up, anger surfacing in his azure eyes for the first time.
"Cassius, let go."
Cassius walked to the desk and looked down at him.
"You are in no position to order me right now."
The portraits in the Headmaster's Office all went silent.
A former Headmaster was about to speak, but after a glance from Cassius, they immediately shut their mouth.
Cassius picked up the observation crystal, his thumb brushing over the blood-red words.
The dark red mist let out a scream as it was forced back into the depths of the crystal by the deep blue firelight.
"Voldemort uses the dead person you owe the most as bait, and you're ready to open your mouth and bite that hook coated in soul-destroying poison?"
Dumbledore's face turned pale.
"You don't understand."
"I understand more than you do."
Cassius interrupted him directly, his voice like iron.
"I know what is on that ring, and I know why it sent those words before your eyes."
Snape whipped his head toward him.
Dumbledore also looked up.
Hermione's heart tightened.
Cassius never spoke without reason.
The Gaunt Shack.
The resurrection stone ring.
Dumbledore's regret.
Voldemort's Horcrux trap.
While these were mysteries to others, to Cassius, they were answers already written down.
That was why he knew better than anyone that if Dumbledore went alone, he would definitely reach out for it.
Even knowing the danger, he would reach out.
Even knowing it was a trap, he would reach out.
Some people become fatally stupid the moment an old wound is touched.
And Cassius would not allow such stupidity to derail his plans.
"Put away that self-indulgent sacrifice act of yours."
Cassius lowered his voice.
"Your life is currently a tool for Hogwarts' stability, a protective umbrella for Harry's treatment, and the last shred of dignity that keeps the Ministry of Magic from flipping the table."
Dumbledore's fingers trembled.
Cassius continued:
"If you want to die, fine."
"Wait until I've dismantled all of Voldemort's remnant souls, until Harry's forehead is clean, and until no Hogwarts student will be dragged into your old debts."
"At that time, you can go kneel in the graveyard for as long as you like."
McGonagall's expression was grim, yet she didn't argue.
Snape stared coldly at Dumbledore, his voice squeezed through gritted teeth.
"His words are harsh, but he isn't wrong."
Dumbledore closed his eyes.
The Headmaster's Office was silent for several seconds.
The blood-red words in the crystal were still writhing like a snake's tongue.
Cassius turned around, taking direct command of the situation.
"Hermione: magic detectors, Jackdaw Type II, Stability Ring spares, and all observation crystals—bring them all."
Hermione snapped back to her senses and rolled up the blueprints.
"Understood."
"Draco: high-pressure water-line cutting reservoir, and three Blizzard samples."
Draco's eyes lit up.
This wasn't an ordinary operation.
They were going to the Dark Lord's lair for a forced demolition.
He suppressed his excitement and bowed his head.
"Yes."
Cassius looked at Snape.
"Professor, you are responsible for watching over Dumbledore."
A look of mockery appeared on Snape's face.
"Watch over Albus? That sounds like a perfectly terrible joke."
Cassius gave a casual tug.
Deep blue magic condensed into chains, wrapping around Dumbledore's wrists and shoulders.
Dumbledore did not resist.
Not because he couldn't.
But because he finally realized that he was currently unfit to make decisions.
Cassius looked at Snape.
"It's not a joke anymore."
Snape was silent for half a second, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"A most delightful arrangement."
McGonagall couldn't help but speak up.
"Cassius, you cannot escort the Principal there like a prisoner."
Cassius turned back, his tone calm.
"If he's going to lead the whole team into a trap, then I will escort him exactly like this."
McGonagall was left speechless, her face turning ashen.
Hermione had already stuffed the detectors into a leather case and snapped three locks onto the black-silver box of the Jackdaw Type II.
Draco placed the three 'Blizzard' samples into a goblin steel reinforced box, his movements steadier than usual.
Months of training showed their value in this moment.
He didn't ask why.
Nor did he chatter.
What Cassius needed was a blade, not questions.
Luna had appeared by the door at some point, a sweet in her mouth, her gaze fixed on the image of the black ring.
"The old bird has caught the scent of the old nest, and the snake has left a sweet bone at the mouth of the burrow."
Dumbledore opened his eyes to look at her.
Luna tilted her head.
"But there are thorns inside the bone."
Cassius put the crystal into a box.
"So we won't be chewing on the bone."
Hermione looked up.
"Then how will we handle it?"
Cassius walked to the Portkey box by the fireplace and picked out an old silver button.
"Blow it open, burn it dry, pluck it out, and strip it clean."
Draco's breathing quickened with excitement.
Hermione wrote in her notebook:
Gaunt Shack Operation.
Objective: black ring Horcrux.
Execution method: Heavy firepower demolition.
When Dumbledore saw that line, the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
In the past, searching for Horcruxes was a dangerous, secretive, and restrained pursuit of Dark Arts.
With Cassius, it had turned directly into bringing tools to someone's door to tear their house down.
It was absurd.
Yet it also forcefully tore through the mass of regret in his heart.
Cassius gripped the Portkey, deep blue firelight igniting in his palm.
"The outskirts of the Gaunt Shack, Little Hangleton."
The silver button vibrated violently.
Dumbledore suddenly spoke in a low voice.
"Cassius, if I lose control..."
Cassius didn't look at him.
"I'll beat you back to your senses."
Dumbledore fell silent.
Snape sneered.
"That certainly sounds like something he would do."
The next second, the Portkey sent everyone spinning violently.
The Headmaster's Office vanished.
Cold wind, earth, rotting wood, and the stench of a cursed swamp rushed at them.
Outside Little Hangleton, wild grass lay flat against the ground under low, heavy clouds.
In the distance, the Gaunt Shack crouched on the hillside like a cold, dead corpse.
As soon as Hermione found her footing, the detector in her hand let out a shriek.
Draco's expression shifted.
"Something is moving underground."
Dumbledore's voice was raspy.
"Be careful, the Gaunt family's defenses are vicious. The Dark Arts here will induce you to take the wrong path; we must first find—"
Cassius raised a hand to cut him off.
"Shut up."
Dumbledore frowned.
The wild grass ahead split apart.
Black vines slowly rose like rotting fingers, reaching toward the group.
The deep blue in Cassius's eyes grew brighter.
"I don't solve riddles."
Chapter 205: Forcible Demolition! The Dark Lord's Defenses Shatter
"Hermione, three o'clock."
Cassius pointed, his voice as cold as a blade.
"The darkest part of the swamp. Drop a Blizzard."
Hermione didn't ask questions.
The detector in her hand had gone mad; the needle hammered against the dial with a sharp clatter, and black ink lines darted across the parchment like a mass of living insects.
Every inch of the mud ahead could be hiding a curse.
Every vine could be blood-sucking.
Every piece of rotting wood could be a seed of malice left behind by Lord Voldemort.
But in Cassius's eyes, there were only two words.
Obstacles.
Obstacles should be cleared.
Hermione opened the dark silver box and took out the first 'Blizzard'.
A fist-sized goblin steel ball, its dark gray shell covered in fine lines. Inside was sealed compressed chaotic magic, along with a bright-light ignition core.
This was Hermione's creation.
It was also the reason Cassius was willing to bring her along.
She might be afraid.
But she would not retreat.
Before raising her hand, Hermione cast a quick glance at Cassius.
"Explosion radius is seventy feet. If the underground curses trigger a chain reaction beyond estimates, it might affect the main structure of the shack."
Cassius didn't even blink.
"I want it to be affected."
Hermione's eyes lit up.
She understood.
This wasn't mine-clearing.
This was a scorched-earth sweep.
Draco moved as well.
With a flick of his fingers, a line of water slid out along the ground, thin as a blade, slicing through the outermost Blood-Sucking Vine roots.
Black sap sprayed out.
Before it could hit the ground, it was roasted into smoke by the ghostly blue heat waves radiating from Cassius.
Dumbledore spoke up instinctively.
"That vine sap is highly corrosive; it's best not to—"
"Professor."
Hermione interrupted him abruptly, her tone uncharacteristically firm.
"Please step back."
Dumbledore was taken aback.
A second later, Hermione threw it.
The goblin steel ball sliced through the gloomy air and smashed precisely into the deepest part of the cursed swamp.
The first second: silence.
The second second: the ground bulged.
The third second: white light exploded from beneath the mud.
BOOM!
The entire swamp was upended from below.
Black mud, vines, rubble, and rotten bones surged into the air together.
Blinding light tore through the shadows, and the shockwave slammed into the outer wall of the shack.
The wall, reinforced by Lord Voldemort, let out a mournful groan.
Half of it collapsed.
Dumbledore's pupils shrank.
The first line of defense laid by Lord Voldemort was gone just like that.
Shattered by an alchemical bomb made by a third-year student.
And all it took was Cassius saying, "Drop it there."
It was absurd.
And terrifying.
Draco's breathing quickened.
"It worked."
Hermione didn't smile; she immediately looked down to record the data.
"Blizzard Mark I, close-range cursed swamp environment."
"Explosion effect exceeded estimates by twenty percent. Secondary cutting from goblin steel fragments was significant. Vine regeneration failed."
She wrote rapidly, her eyes frighteningly bright.
This was a massive gain.
Cassius scanned the blasted mud.
Residual Dark Arts were still writhing like severed worms, desperately trying to reattach themselves.
He raised his hand and pointed again.
"The second one, left side of the porch."
Hermione didn't hesitate and took out another one.
Dumbledore finally couldn't help himself.
"Cassius, the Gaunt Shack may contain important clues. Excessive destruction will make us lose—"
Cassius turned to look at him.
"The clues are in the Horcrux."
"Not in the rotting wood."
Dumbledore's lips twitched.
Cassius added another sentence.
"You used to like looking for riddles in ruins."
"I prefer to make the target spit it out themselves."
Hermione's fingers paused.
She understood instantly.
This was the purpose of the Jackdaw Type II.
Not to follow the clues Lord Voldemort left behind.
But to peel away the shell of the remnant soul and force the memories out.
The initiative had to be held in their hands.
Hermione threw the second Blizzard.
This time, it was even closer.
The goblin steel ball landed on the left side of the porch.
BOOM!
The main entrance of the shack and half the hallway were swallowed by white light.
On the doorframe, a ring of black runes suddenly flared up like startled venomous insects, snapping back at the blast's impact.
Dumbledore's expression changed.
"A Counter-Bite Curse!"
Cassius had already raised his hand.
A ghostly blue gravity field slammed down.
The black runes had just opened up when they were pinned back to their original spots.
The next instant, the Blizzard fragments swept through.
The runes shattered into sparks.
Draco stared blankly.
This wasn't disarming a trap.
This was treating the curses Lord Voldemort left behind as nails and hammering them flat.
Dumbledore's voice lowered slightly.
"You knew there would be a Counter-Bite Curse?"
Cassius said indifferently, "Lord Voldemort likes to turn every entrance into a biting mouth."
Dumbledore fell silent.
This sounded too much like someone who had seen Tom's habits throughout his life.
But Cassius was only thirteen.
The more he couldn't see through him, the heavier his heart became.
The third Blizzard wasn't used immediately.
Cassius lifted his foot and walked forward.
"You all stay on the outer perimeter."
Hermione frowned.
"The magic pollution is heavier inside; I need to record it from a closer range."
Cassius didn't look back.
"You can record from where you're standing."
Hermione wanted to argue further.
Whoosh—
Ghostly blue flames rose from the surface of Cassius's body.
The air distorted instantly.
The black mud under his feet was swept by the heat wave, and without even a struggle, it was burned into a cracked crystalline shell.
A two-thousand-degree Magic Armor.
Hermione swallowed her words.
Draco's face turned pale; even from dozens of feet away, it felt like standing next to a furnace.
Get closer to record?
That wouldn't be recording; it would be cremation.
Cassius stepped into the cursed swamp.
Sizzle, sizzle—
The black mud cracked in large patches.
The stench was burned into a scorched smell.
Underground vines drilled out frantically, trying to wrap around his ankles.
The moment the vine tips touched the ghostly blue fire, they curled into ash.
Cassius glanced down.
"Lord Voldemort put in quite a bit of effort."
Hermione recorded immediately, speaking very fast.
"Surface vines carry Blood-Sucking Curses."
"The ground is a mixture of corrosive curses and mental interference."
"At least three magic circuits underground to maintain regeneration."
Draco gritted his teeth and asked, "Do we need to cut the underground circuits?"
Cassius lifted his foot.
And stomped down hard.
BOOM!
The entire swamp sank half a foot.
The three underground magic circuits were snapped instantly as if hit by a giant hammer.
The detector in Hermione's hand sparked directly.
She instinctively shielded the parchment, but her eyes grew even brighter.
"Directly crushing the magic circuits..."
"No need to find the connection points, as long as the power is concentrated enough..."
This wasn't solving a problem.
This was flipping the table.
Dumbledore stood behind, his expression complex to the extreme.
He knew this method was crude.
He also knew it was effective.
What was even more terrifying was that Lord Voldemort's arrangements were being peeled away layer by layer by Cassius, and they had paid almost no price.
Cassius walked to the entrance of the shack.
Only half of the broken porch remained.
The inside of the house was as dark as an open mouth.
On the threshold, a layer of dark red light membrane remained.
Inside the light membrane, several distorted faces emerged.
They cried, pleaded, and reached out.
As if trying to drag the intruder into some memory they shouldn't look back on.
Dumbledore's breathing clearly faltered.
Hermione looked at him immediately.
"Principal?"
Dumbledore stared at those faces, his voice tight.
"It's utilizing memories."
Cassius only took one look.
Fear.
Regret.
Desire.
Lord Voldemort's Horcrux traps always favored this routine.
Exposing a person's soft spots.
Then handing them a knife.
Cassius raised his hand, his fingers curling into a loose grip.
The dark red light membrane on the threshold was seized as if by an invisible giant hand.
The faces inside screamed simultaneously.
The sound made Hermione's face turn pale.
Draco instinctively took half a step back.
Dumbledore's eyes also trembled.
Cassius remained expressionless, and his fist suddenly tightened.
Pop.
The light membrane exploded.
The screaming stopped.
He stepped over the threshold, his tone calm.
"mental interference: failing grade."
Draco looked at the shattered remains of the dark red light and suddenly felt like laughing.
The malicious traps left by Lord Voldemort were reduced to a mere "failing grade" in Cassius's mouth.
But he couldn't laugh.
Because Draco knew that if he were the one standing there, let alone crushing the membrane, he might have struggled even to stand firm.
The gap was still there.
So large it was suffocating.
Cassius entered the shack.
The cold atmosphere inside instantly came alive.
The stains on the walls began to flow.
The shadows in the broken picture frames turned their heads.
From the cracks in the floorboards came the sound of nails scratching wood.
Hermione stood outside the door, her scalp tingling, yet she still held up her damaged detector.
"Multiple layers of residual curses inside."
"Induced illusions, contact contamination, directional confusion, vitality extraction."
Dumbledore said in a deep voice, "The Gaunt family has a very ancient heritage of the Dark Arts."
"After Tom returned here, he turned them into even more malicious traps."
Cassius stood in the center of the living room.
The rotten wood creaked under his feet.
He only replied with one sentence.
"Then we'll tear it all down together."
As he spoke, he raised his hand and pressed down.
BOOM!
A ghostly blue gravity field exploded with him as the center.
The shadows on the walls were crushed flat.
The scratching in the floorboards turned into muffled thuds.
The chandelier, rotting wood, broken cabinets, picture frames, and rags all collapsed downward at the same instant.
The entire Gaunt Shack was like being struck by a giant palm.
The roof groaned, and the walls cracked.
Half the house was instantly reduced to rubble.
Hermione stood outside, watching a shack filled with Dark Arts traps being forcibly crushed from the inside by Cassius.
Her pen paused for a moment.
This wasn't exploration.
This was demolition.
Dumbledore said in a low voice, "You'll collapse the basement too."
Cassius looked up toward the corner of the living room.
Beneath several heavy stone slabs, a dark red aura was becoming clear.
"It won't collapse."
He raised his hand toward it.
Hundreds of pounds of stone slabs, along with the rotting floorboards, flew up and smashed hard against the adjacent wall.
BOOM!
Dust exploded.
A pitch-black hole was revealed.
Deep within the opening, dark red mist slowly billowed out.
It wasn't ordinary smoke and dust.
It was like it was alive.
Like it was searching for a wound.
The color instantly drained from Dumbledore's face.
Hermione had just raised her detector.
Beep—!
The device let out a piercing scream, and the glass on the dial cracked with a snap.
Luna's voice softly sounded from behind.
"The old nest is open."
Everyone looked into the hole.
Within the dark red mist, a blurry shadow emerged bit by bit.
A blonde girl lay in a pool of blood.
Quiet.
Broken.
Like a blade from decades ago, held up once more before Dumbledore.
Dumbledore's pupils shrank violently.