Chapter 191: The Headmaster Takes Action
The grandfather clock ticked away.
Another duelling practice.
Hermione kept her little face tense, lips pursed tightly, feeling somewhat annoyed.
Last term’s tutoring sessions also had duelling practice, when the gap wasn’t obvious yet; through spellcasting techniques and spell combinations, it was easy to drag Harry into her own offensive and defensive rhythm, but after a Christmas holiday, this gap became clearly evident.
During the last Dueling Club practice, when Harry and Malfoy agreed to duel, she watched from the side and saw with her own eyes how Harry created an almost crushing advantage with just four Disarming Charms, forcing Malfoy into a corner where he had no choice but to throw his wand for a chance at close-quarters hand-to-hand combat.
Back then as a spectator, the feeling wasn’t intuitive enough; now standing face-to-face with Harry, seeing the Disarming Charms coming relentlessly, the powerful oppressive force hit her head-on.
Ever since Harry realized his Disarming Charm had exceptionally great power, he started repeating the spell endlessly, and this move was indeed effective in Harry’s hands—Hermione couldn’t find any effective way to deal with it.
Casting speed fast, spell power strong…
She had to carefully set up for a long time to find an opportunity to counterattack, but her counterattacks would be directly shattered by the Disarming Charm.
Whatever virtual and real combination, whatever feint attacks and breakthroughs, whatever direction changes, none could compare to the dense 「Expelliarmus」.
For a little witch whose talents lay in diligence and wisdom, this feeling was utterly frustrating.
But this grueling battle also had gains; after these few tough pressure-resistance practices, she lasted longer and longer, gaining a deeper understanding of the professor’s explanations and the knowledge in the books.
This situation could be seen as an underage witch dealing with an adult wizard; as long as she found the right way to cope, her duelling strength could greatly improve, even allowing her to face adult wizards directly.
Unfortunately, this progress couldn’t be achieved in a short time.
Harry swung his wand, endlessly repeating the same spell, while Hermione hadn’t fully mastered the Iron Armor Charm yet and could only keep changing direction, dodging hastily, gradually being forced into the corner by the wall.
The battle situation showed a one-sided trend, and the outcome was already clear.
“Let’s stop here for today.”
After calling a halt to the duel and restoring the office, Melvin sat on the sofa, poured hot pumpkin juice for both of them, and began to review Harry and Hermione’s earlier combat.
“Combat isn’t like doing problems; there are no absolutely correct answers. You don’t need to think about the optimal way to cope every time, Hermione. You should abandon some of your concerns…”
The little witch opened her mouth, wanted to speak but held back, her face flushing red with frustration, unwilling to admit defeat yet helpless.
Harry kept his head down, worried that the smile at the corner of his mouth would stimulate Hermione.
“Harry.” Melvin turned to the other student, his tone slightly complex, “The Disarming Charm is indeed a very comprehensive spell—it disarms the opponent’s combat ability without causing harm, offensive and defensive in one. You’ve mastered it very well, but I hope you understand that combining multiple spells is what allows better coping with different battle situations.”
Harry felt Professor Levent’s gaze was strange—clearly very gentle, yet very penetrating. His eyes lingered on him, as if looking through him at some other existence, making him feel uneasy inside.
“I… I’ll do my best.” Harry mumbled in response.
A faint smile appeared on Melvin’s face. A Disarming Charm that fit him perfectly was like a shortcut, allowing a 13-year-old little wizard to easily defeat peers. How could Harry, who had discovered that all his previously hard-earned tactical techniques paled in comparison to repeated Expelliarmus, willingly return to the old steep path?
“It’s too late today; I don’t want to delay your bedtime.” Melvin pondered briefly, “Here’s an idea: next week’s duelling lesson, Professor Flitwick will invite Professor McGonagall as a guest to demonstrate the application of Transfiguration in duelling. I hope you both attend.”
Hermione’s eyes flickered slightly as she recalled many classic duels from books where wizards used Transfiguration to win against stronger opponents or greater numbers.
…
“Transfiguration, like the Disarming Charm, can be used for attack or defense, and because of its unique physical properties, it often plays unexpected roles.”
On the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione explained to Harry in a light tone, “Transfiguration played an important role in many classic duels. Think about it—if I used a Transfiguration spell to turn a big dog or many flying birds into existence between us, would your Disarming Charm still be so hard to resist?”
Harry quickly realized that this flexible, ever-changing duelling style suited Hermione very well, but he refused to admit defeat and stubbornly said:
“Couldn’t I use Transfiguration too? I’d turn a lion and an eagle to snatch away your big dog and flying birds.”
“I’m not arguing with you; you’ll see how powerful it is in the next duelling practice…”
Hermione greeted the Fat Lady and was about to climb into the portrait hole when she suddenly slapped her forehead, “Dreadful, I forgot to ask the professor about Dobby!”
“Don’t you get it yet?”
Harry shook his head, walked past her into the common room, “Asking won’t get an answer. The professor and the headmaster won’t tell us directly; Dobby has to figure this out himself.”
…
Late at night, in the Headmaster’s Office.
Dumbledore stood by the window holding a cup of hot chocolate. The portraits on the walls all stared at the desk, which was filled with silverware and documents, an open diary with ink that glowed softly in the candlelight, and a diadem inlaid with a sapphire, engraved with a parable of wisdom.
Dumbledore sniffed the sweet aroma of the hot chocolate and told Dobby’s story to himself:
“Freedom cannot be measured by money, sold, given as charity, nor owed on credit. Melvin wants to tell Dobby that only when he truly understands it can he truly break free from others’ shackles and slavery.”
“Hogwarts is getting more and more dreadful, actually willing to pay money to a lowly slave?” A hoarse voice said in the room.
Dumbledore turned to look, and a mass of dark mist rose in mid-air, with a raven-shaped shadow floating inside; looking closely, a pair of scarlet eyes could faintly be seen.
“Tom, souls have no high or low status—whether wizard, Muggle, werewolf, centaur, vampire, or house-elf, I believe all life is equal.” Dumbledore spoke at an even pace, unhurriedly sipping his hot chocolate.
Voldemort’s soul fragment flapped its wings in raven form, letting out a sneer: “I only see a senile headmaster and a stupid, ridiculous professor.”
“Oh? Is that what you think?”
Dumbledore returned to his desk and sat down, “You know, Melvin got along very well with you at 16; you were close friends.”
“As a professor, picking up a student’s diary, he actually went to great lengths to fabricate lies to deceive a student’s trust—base and cunning, even more disgusting than you were back then!” Voldemort said coldly.
“I don’t think so. Melvin is an outstanding professor; his Muggle psychology knowledge helps him deeply understand students and better aid their growth.” Dumbledore said with a smile.
“Heh! Psychology…”
Voldemort continued sneering, “Something made up by Muggles without magic—what use is it? Can it compare to Legilimency?”
“In my view, it’s often more useful than Legilimency, more convenient and comprehensive.” Dumbledore stared straight into the raven’s eyes, his sea-blue eyes carrying a metallic, cold glint.
Voldemort’s expression suddenly changed; he fell silent, looking at Dumbledore with shock and suspicion.
“Later, you claimed to have conquered death because you created Horcruxes like Herpo’s—not just one: the diary from your student days, Ravenclaw’s Diadem, Hufflepuff’s Goblet, Slytherin’s locket…”
Dumbledore spoke slowly, “Tom, which one are you? How many are there in total? Where are the other Horcruxes?”
“You think I’d tell you?” Voldemort rasped back.
“You see, that’s the limitation of Legilimency.” Dumbledore smiled faintly, “It doesn’t work on skilled wizards. No matter how great the Legilimency master, they can’t overcome Occlumency, and similarly, it doesn’t work on soul fragments—like you now.”
“…”
“But psychology knowledge can come in handy.”
Dumbledore stared at Voldemort, speaking even more slowly, “Based on the premise that you gave the diary to Mr. Malfoy, I can infer you gave other Horcruxes to other Death Eaters. Let me think… Mr. Rookwood? Mr. Nott? Mr. Crouch? Mrs. Lestrange?”
“Foolish probing—you think I’m some idiot?” Voldemort said coldly.
“What a pity.” Dumbledore smacked his lips regretfully, “If it were Melvin, he probably could have gotten the right answer out of you.”
