Chapter 104: The Silent Ones and the Silenced

Support me and be 20 chapters ahead of webnovel:

patreon.com/Draco_

******

The atmosphere of guilt and sorrow that Dumbledore had crafted shattered into pieces the moment Harry spoke.

The dark barrel of the gun was aimed at the old man's forehead. There was no doubt that even though Dumbledore was an extraordinary wizard, taking a Killing Curse fired from ebony wood directly would leave him with no alternative but death.

Unless Dumbledore was draped in a protective hide like Hagrid's, endowed with magical resistance akin to that of other magical creatures, even his thick skin wouldn't suffice against the penetrating power of the ebony wood at this moment.

"I've told you long ago, Al."

Grindelwald, who had remained silent, stood up from his chair. He walked over to Harry's side, gently patting his shoulder while turning to Dumbledore.

"I've already said that Harry is just like me. Guys like us are inherently killers. Our capacity for kindness and gentleness only applies to those we care about." Grindelwald spread his hands. "Don't doubt it—Harry really would kill you. While I would try to stop him, don't question his resolve."

"He doesn't care about a headmaster he met only at the start of term. Besides, on the matter of the Order of the Phoenix, we both agree: it's terrible. Harry likes me much more than he likes you. Why not consider coming to Durmstrang, Harry? It would suit you better."

Grindelwald asked with a smile, and after his words, Harry lowered the gun.

"I still have some matters to resolve at Hogwarts."

"That's fine. I can wait a few years for you."

"Can I bring people with me?"

"Of course, Harry. I'll even arrange a scholarship for you."

Seeing Grindelwald undermining him right in front of him, Dumbledore could only let out a helpless sigh. It seemed that Grindelwald heard the sigh. After reaching a cheerful consensus with Harry, he turned back to Dumbledore.

"Don't doubt yourself, Al. This time, you're dealing with no ordinary person."

"Your good student Tom has drowned in the allure of darkness. What's alive now is Voldemort, not Tom Riddle. He's a madman—a rational, thinking madman. As a normal person, how could you truly fathom his thoughts? Opening a portal to the Abyss and releasing the dark forces—such thoughts never crossed your mind, right? Even if you tried to speculate with the worst intentions, it would have completely surprised you, wouldn't it?"

"And Harry—honestly, he surprised me too. The purity of his dark magic left me in awe. But what astonished me most is that he can perfectly control this power. It reminds me of that boy in New York who could control the Silence."

"Silence?"

Harry raised his palm, and chaotic darkness coalesced into a small ball in his hand.

"Ah, yes. Although that boy's Silence didn't possess the same purity as yours, they are fundamentally similar. The essence of this dark magic is a living entity—an artificial life formed from a fragment of your dark will and magic."

"It's well known that the birth of a Silence is due to a young wizard suppressing their magic under external pressures, resulting in a monster. They loathe their magic and their powers. When their emotions reach a critical point, they unconsciously carve out a part of themselves, allowing a new life to emerge from within."

"But the Silence is born from hatred and loathing. It doesn't coexist harmoniously with its 'creator'; instead, it harbors intense resentment towards the wizard that gave it life, ultimately seeking to kill them."

"Very few Silences live beyond the age of thirteen. Severing a Silence does not save the wizard's life because they are one and the same. That fellow Newt managed to do it once, but the girl still died before his eyes. Frankly, it was Newt who killed her. Yet even if he hadn't interfered, she would still have died—and in a more tragic manner."

"Don't make faces at me," Grindelwald suddenly remarked, pouting. "I hold grudges, little one."

"Who?!"

Harry whirled around, but saw nothing.

"It's just your Silence."

"Come out and meet your master; he's just as vengeful as I am. Be careful, he might actually end you."

As Grindelwald's teasing voice echoed, the obedient black sphere in Harry's palm transformed into a small creature reminiscent of a familiar specter, obediently standing in Harry's hand.

"Am I really still not over thirteen years old?"

Grindelwald's interruption and the appearance of the Silence made Harry's mind spiral into chaos. To be honest, this situation was entirely unexpected.

"No! Professor, how did you discover it? And… is this really a Silence?"

"Of course it is, because I have one too! You can't expect someone like me—a dark wizard with grand ideals—to have encountered the power of a Silence and not study it, right?"

"Honestly, I wasn't as fortunate as you. It took me nearly a decade to understand the essence of the Silence. There are so few Silences in the world; I barely managed to find two subjects for research. Once I grasped what it was, I certainly learned to control that power."

As he spoke, a cloud of black mist spilled from his body, and a monster composed of darkness appeared beside Grindelwald. The dark magic radiated a chaotic and malevolent aura, almost identical to the little figure in Harry's hand. Grindelwald, who never hid his identity as a dark wizard, was fundamentally not a good person. His love and compassion extended only to a small circle, and the Pure-Blood Party was merely a tool for him. Although he seemed much more peaceful now as a headmaster and professor, his core nature remained unchanged.

"Just like dark magic, we shouldn't fear it; we should view it as a double-edged sword. Power knows no morality; the source of good and evil lies in how we use that power. Dark power can harm others and ourselves, but as long as you find the right way to use it, this controlled force will unleash powers far beyond the ordinary."

"I believe I've made that clear in class, right?"

Harry nodded silently. Although they were discussing dark magic in class, the principles applied perfectly in this situation.

"So what you're saying is—" Harry took a deep breath, turning his gaze toward the obedient little figure, his expression suddenly growing cold, "this guy actually wants to take me out, right?"

Harry was acutely aware that this pure, chaotic evil was not entirely his own. This dark power was fundamentally different from the magic of the true Awakened. While it possessed similar special attributes, it was two entirely different forces.

This darkness, born from the Fourth Cataclysm, required Harry's utmost caution. He understood better than anyone what kind of terrifying will it represented.

"Since it's uncontrollable, it's best to destroy it."

The remaining dark mist gathered in Harry's palm, the black fog solidifying into a sphere that felt tangible. He slowly closed his hand, which could crush rocks.

(End of Chapter)