N-A-A Chapter 243 Everyone Can Get a Share
Chapter 243 Everyone Can Get a Share
Chapter 243 Everyone Can Get a Share
Picking up where we left off, Harry heard Dumbledore say that goblins were not to be trusted, and he nodded in agreement.
Upon hearing that the old man wanted to send him to Gringotts, he shook his head and said, "Professor, your idea is far too naive."
"Those fairies are nothing but narrow-minded, vengeful birdmen. Talking about friendship or alliances with them is pointless; it's better to just throw a bag of Galleons at them and hire them to fight you to the death!"
Dumbledore slowly shook his head. "It's not about negotiating with the goblins, it's about finding out what they have to say."
"I don't expect them to become allies; I only hope they won't turn against Voldemort for the sake of that so-called goblin revival."
Upon hearing this, Harry suddenly understood. After a moment's thought, he asked again, "But why did the professor specifically send me on this kind of scouting and reconnaissance mission?"
Upon hearing this, Dumbledore did not immediately reply, but instead leaned back in his chair and slowly said, "I don't have a good reputation among the goblins; they think I'm too cunning and treacherous."
"But you're different; they're not as wary of you."
The words were spoken in a roundabout and indirect manner. Harry pondered for a moment, then his blue eyes suddenly widened, and he exclaimed, "Bah! I think those goblins weren't wronged after all! All that roundabout talk was just to say that I'm a fool!"
"I didn't say that; that's what the goblins think," Dumbledore retorted sharply. "The goblins' understanding of you mostly comes from Legnark, and Legnark has a deep prejudice against you."
"They don't know that you actually have a very sensitive heart."
Harry merely snorted, crossed his arms, and said, "The professor certainly knows how to talk big!"
"Very well, I'll do as you say. Anyway, I need to go to Gringotts to exchange some pounds for the Dursleys to help them settle down."
Dumbledore frowned slightly. "You want the Dursleys to move out?"
Harry nodded, his voice ringing out, "Whether Voldemort will harm others is another matter, but whether he will harm me is absolutely certain."
"Instead of sending the Dursleys to a secluded spot to avoid trouble, are they supposed to stay on Privet Drive and wait for that scoundrel to come and slaughter them all?"
"But you need to stay with your aunt." Dumbledore's brow furrowed even more. "That protective spell—"
'
"Who is stronger, me or Voldemort?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment, then nodded and sighed, "Very well, we'll do it your way."
After agreeing on the Dursleys' settlement, Dumbledore went on to explain in detail the crucial details of the conversation at Gringotts. He clearly instructed them on where to keep their eyes open and who to avoid.
Harry kept these words in mind, then suddenly changed the subject, saying, "While these alien races have been properly arranged, has the professor considered how to contact the wizards from other nations?"
"Grindelwald has taken over America, and Voldemort has taken over Poland. If they are allowed to grow stronger, I'm afraid North America and Eastern Europe will fall one by one."
Upon hearing this question, Dumbledore's expression darkened further, like a cloud gathering over his head.
He took another bottle of potion, ate a few mouthfuls, and then sighed, saying, "You're right, we still need to unite with wizards from other countries."
"This morning, when I was at the Ministry of Magic, Fudge assured me that he would be visiting France, Belgium, and Norway over the next month—"
As Harry listened to Dumbledore list the names of the surrounding countries, he suddenly interrupted, asking, "Why isn't China on this list?"
"I have been in frequent contact with Mr. Liu these past few years, listening to him talk about things in China."
"China is a vast country with a dense population of over a billion. Among them, there are probably more talented and extraordinary people than the Death Eaters and the UMNO party combined!"
"Besides, Mr. Liu is a shrewd and ruthless man who cannot tolerate any wrongdoing. Why not invite him and others to help us out as well?"
'
Upon hearing this, Dumbledore's expression changed, his face tightened, and he said without hesitation, "Absolutely not."
"Chinese wizards and Muggles are very well integrated—they are like two sides of the same coin, you can't separate them."
"If China gets involved, then the Third World War, which belongs to wizards and Muggles, will break out simultaneously."
"We should do our best to avoid escalating the war."
Although Dumbledore's words were startling, Harry was completely unfazed, shaking his head vigorously like a lotus leaf swaying in the wind.
"No, no! Professor, you are mistaken!"
"Both Voldemort and Grindelwald are wolves in sheep's clothing, their only aim being to exploit Muggles and wreak havoc on the world. If the Muggles don't rise up and fight back, are they just going to stretch out their necks and wait to be slaughtered?"
"In my opinion, not just Chinese Muggles, but all Muggles under heaven should take up arms and fight those two scoundrels to the death!"
These words were resolute and powerful, and the portraits of the principals on the wall applauded and cheered.
Dumbledore didn't turn his head, but simply waved his wand behind him. The portraits of the cheering headmasters on the wall all flipped over, leaving only their backs facing outwards.
"Harry, this goes against our principles again. Don't escalate the conflict."
Harry felt a surge of anger rising within him, and he suppressed his agitation, saying, "The professor always tells me not to escalate the conflict, but who can guarantee that these two groups of scoundrels won't attack Muggles and will only fight the wizards obediently!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Dumbledore nodded calmly, without the slightest hesitation in his expression.
"I can guarantee that."
Before Harry could speak, the old man continued, "Grindelwald has witnessed the Muggles' nuclear weapons, and he understands their talent in warfare, so he will not rashly attack the non-magical world."
"As for Voldemort, the theory of bloodlines was merely a political platform for him to recruit Death Eaters."
"In fact, he cares deeply about the prophecy that you will kill him. His entire being is focused on how to kill you. He has no extra energy to invade the non-magical world."
Dumbledore rambled on and on like an old monk chanting sutras, spouting a long and rambling discourse. Finally, he let out a long, weary sigh and said, "Let the Muggles go."
Seeing that Dumbledore's words made perfect sense, Harry stopped arguing and simply clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Since the professor says so, how could I not believe him?"
After saying this, he turned and took his leave.
"Oh, please wait a moment." Dumbledore suddenly stood up, glanced at the gold watch in his pocket, and then lifted the corner of his robe and followed him out the door.
"I think we happen to be going the same way."
Harry was puzzled and asked, "Where is the professor going?"
"To the castle hall," Dumbledore said in a low voice. "I think the parents are getting impatient."
Sure enough, as soon as the two entered the hall, they were met with a wave of sound.
The hall was packed with people, a cacophony of noise, with hundreds of parents crammed together in one place.
Those who had found their children were comforting them, their voices still soft; while those who threw themselves upon the corpses beat their chests and stamped their feet, their wailing piercing the rafters and splitting the stone, even the ghosts in the corridors covered their faces and fled, unable to bear the grief.
The moment Dumbledore appeared, his eyes turned bloodshot with grief and rage, and he pointed and cursed, his roars nearly tearing the night sky apart.
"Why is my daughter dead! Why! Why are you still alive!"
"Dumbledore! You owe me an explanation!"
"I'm going to impeach you! You're completely unfit to be the principal!"
Those parents who lost their children were so grief-stricken that they lost their minds and didn't care about right or wrong anymore.
But he unleashed all his pent-up rage on Dumbledore.
The old principal remained silent, standing like an ancient pine tree on a rock, enduring the barrage of insults.
Harry watched, feeling a surge of anger, when suddenly a strange shout rang out from the crowd: "Pay up! My son can't have died in vain!"
These words were so jarring that Harry turned his head sharply and saw an old acquaintance in the crowd, stomping his feet and pounding his chest, jumping and shouting like a scoundrel.
Who do you think this person is? It is none other than Mundungus!
Upon seeing this man, Harry's anger flared. He immediately rushed forward, grabbed Mundungus by the back of his collar, and dragged him out of the crowd.
Just as Mondongers was shouting and spitting as he was suddenly grabbed and pulled, he blurted out, "Which bastard is talking nonsense?" Before he could finish speaking, there was a loud "smack"!
Harry grabbed Round's arm and delivered a solid slap to his face, making Mundungus see stars and spit out a mixture of saliva and blood.
He spun around like a top twice, then collapsed to the ground with a thud, unable to utter a sound for a long time.
After that crisp sound, the clamor in the hall suddenly ceased.
Harry drew his sword and pressed it against Montdongues' heart, his eyes wide with fury as he roared, "You heartless, despicable scoundrel! You dared to deceive Grandpa's siblings!"
"How could I not know when you, you bastard, ever had children?!"
After being slapped, Mundungus looked up and saw the scarred man's hideous face. His blood froze instantly, and a chill ran from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, making his limbs stiff.
It turned out that this guy thought that with so many parents at the school, Harry might not be able to spot him, but he never expected to be caught on the spot.
He knew all too well that Harry was a ruthless and decisive devil, and if he uttered even a single wrong word, he would be beheaded instantly.
His forehead was covered in sweat, and his eyes were darting around.
Just as Harry's eyes were blazing with murderous intent, the guy suddenly opened his hoarse voice and stammered, "I... I misspoke, it's not my son, it's my parents who go to school here!"
These words seemed to strike out of nowhere, causing all the teachers, students, and parents to turn and look at him, their eyes filled with the expression of someone looking at a madman.
Harry scanned him from head to toe again, squinted, and said, "You point out to me which ones are your parents. If you can't, I'll send you down here so they can recognize their eldest son!"
Mundungus frantically scrambled to his feet, pointed wildly at the corpses strewn across the ground, and yelled at the top of his lungs, "They are all of them!"
"They are both my parents!"
"It was their desperate resistance that forced the Death Eaters and the Mystic to flee! It saved my life, as I was near Hogwarts at the time!"
"They gave me a second life! It's not an exaggeration to call them my parents!"
This Mundungus was truly a man who tore off a piece of dough and threw it on the ground. This man, nearly fifty years old, actually pointed at the corpses of underage children on the ground and called them his father and mother.
As she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears, and she almost shed a couple of real tears.
His parents, who were originally filled with grief and indignation, taught him to act so recklessly, and for a moment he felt bored and his anger subsided by three or four parts.
This Mundungus looked so limp and weak, like a slime that had come to life and was completely at everyone's mercy.
Harry didn't really intend to kill him, so he kicked him in the buttocks and yelled, "As the saying goes, things don't happen more than three times. If I ever catch you up to something again, I'll send you to the King of Hell for a proper explanation!"
Mundungus was overjoyed, nodding his head vigorously, and then scrambled away, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
Once the concoction smuggler had disappeared, all eyes in the hall were fixed on Harry like a blazing fire.
The scarred man neither dodged nor avoided, but took a step forward, bowed deeply to the surrounding crowd, and shouted loudly, "Every wrong has its perpetrator, every debt its debtor! How could I not know the pain of losing your sons?"
"But to place all the blame on Professor Dumbledore would be to mistakenly accuse him of a wrongdoing!"
Upon hearing this, someone in the crowd immediately retorted angrily, "As the principal, he should protect the students!"
"That's true! Negligence and dereliction of duty deserve punishment! Those who wielded the knife were Death Eaters and Voldemort, so why don't you take up your staffs and seek revenge!"
These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over their heads; the parents, who were initially furious, fell mostly silent.
They all kept silent, but their faces still showed uncontrollable anger.
Seeing this, Harry didn't say anything, but simply stretched out his hand to the side and shouted, "Bring me paper and pen!"
As soon as he finished speaking, students brought him parchment and quills.
Harry took the paper, laid it on the table, and with a few strokes of his pen, sketched out a human figure.
While everyone was still confused, Harry threw down his pen on the table and shouted, "If you all want an explanation, I'll give you one today!"
"If we're going to get to the bottom of this, the one who killed people was Voldemort, and I'll make sure everyone gets a piece of the pie!"
"You all just draw a piece of meat and remove a piece of bone on this picture! Once I capture that scoundrel, I will chop him up piece by piece, according to what has been drawn today, and distribute the pieces to everyone!"
These words were filled with menacing force, causing all the parents in the hall to exchange bewildered glances. Their resentment was suppressed by these words, and for a moment, none of them dared to utter a sound.
Seeing this, Ron shouted, "Harry never makes oaths lightly. I once just said I wanted to see what Voldemort looked like, and he cut off the head that was possessed by Voldemort and gave it to me."
He often boasted about this old story when he was young, and immediately a chorus of agreement arose from all around, with all the students nodding in agreement.
Indeed: the hatred of killing one's son is irreconcilable. Immediately, a parent stepped forward and began to draw on the parchment.
Once one person started, the rest followed suit.
You cut a piece of meat, I hook a bone, and before long, the picture was covered in ink stains, showing Voldemort from head to toe.
Even more outrageous, he ordered Voldemort's flesh club, and Harry nodded in agreement.
At this point, the anger of the parents who had lost their children subsided, and no one dared to challenge Dumbledore anymore; only sobs and weeping remained.
From the shadows in the corner, Narcissa witnessed this scene, and her face turned as white as paper.
She gripped Draco's hand tightly and said in a trembling voice, "Come with me."
After saying that, he pulled Draco toward the door.
Just as I was about to reach the door, a figure suddenly appeared from the side and blocked my way.
The man, with his hair disheveled and clothes open, grinned and asked, "Where are you going, cousin?"
Narcissa jolted and stumbled back two steps. Before she could regain her footing, a hand patted her shoulder.
"Why did my cousin come alone? Where is Master Lu?"
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