HP: Beyond Miracle Chapter 196: The Aftermath

[AN: Guys, the latter half of Chapter 194: The Duel was missing. I have added the missing part but thanks for pointing that out.]

The stars and moon hung high in the sky.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, holding a cup of red tea and taking small sips.

His eyes appeared focused, but his thoughts had long since wandered elsewhere.

Although he had already expected this matter to be difficult to handle, nothing had prepared him for Fudge's reaction.

The Minister for Magic, who had rushed to Hogwarts as soon as he received the news that evening, was still pacing the office restlessly.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Fudge shouted. "Dumbledore, you must be mistaken! Dawn Richter is dead. You brought the body yourself. Have you forgotten?"

When the news of Dawn's death had been published, Fudge had spoken on the front page with righteous certainty and dramatic flair.

If it now erged that Dawn had not died at all—that the entire affair had been a deception—Fudge did not even need to imagine what it would do to his public approval.

"Everyone saw him," Dumbledore said calmly. "Dawn appeared again at Hogwarts and fought . You may ask anyone."

"Yes, yes," Fudge muttered irritably. "That's exactly the problem! You expect to believe that a twelve-year-old wizard could stand evenly against you?"

He began pacing again, dabbing sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

In truth, his panic was not only about his credibility. He also rembered the statents he had proudly published in the newspaper.

rlin's beard. He had publicly mocked a wizard who possessed power comparable to Dumbledore's.

Thinking of what had happened to the Avery family after Dawn's retaliation, Fudge felt a cold fear creeping into his heart.

Perhaps his denial was simply a way to reassure himself.

"That Dawn Richter yesterday must have been fake!" Fudge snapped.

"Perhaps soone used Polyjuice Potion. Or so strange magic. But it cannot have been him!"

The well-dressed Minister shouted fiercely, though his constantly shifting eyes betrayed uncertainty.

Dumbledore sighed quietly.

He suddenly found Fudge both pitiful and tragic—trapped by fa and authority, living cautiously and obsessively protecting his position.

Yet when he reflected on it, he realized he was not so different.

Eventually Fudge stopped pacing, exhausted.

He pointed a finger at Dumbledore.

"I will handle what happened yesterday. But Dumbledore, I do not want to hear any baseless fantasies from you. That person absolutely was not Dawn Richter!"

He declared it again with force, adding in a righteous tone:

"This is all for the stability of society."

Although Dumbledore had expected this outco, the Minister's willingness to hide the problem rather than confront it still disappointed him.

Still, he knew Fudge too well to waste his breath arguing.

So he said nothing.

Fudge took the silence as agreent. Satisfied, he muttered a brief farewell and hurried away, no doubt heading to the newspaper offices to guide the narrative.

In earlier years he would never have spoken to Dumbledore so bluntly.

But after gaining popularity by exploiting the story of Dawn's downfall, he had grown increasingly confident and dismissive.

Which ant one thing.

Dawn Richter could not be alive. Absolutely not. Fudge believed this with the fervor of a man battling his own fears.

Once he left, the office fell quiet. Only the kettle continued to bubble softly as it heated water for tea.

Though the eting had not gone well, it was not entirely without benefit.

Dumbledore placed a candy in his mouth and tasted the bitter sweetness.

He tried to focus on the positive.

He had expected to explain Aral's situation if Fudge asked—claiming the boy had been controlled by the Imperius Curse when he cast the Killing Curse.

But the Minister had been so distracted by Dawn that he forgot about everything else.

That complication had conveniently disappeared.

After reviewing these matters briefly, Dumbledore returned his thoughts to the duel that afternoon.

Just as his sense of responsibility forced him to confront Voldemort, he now believed Dawn was a problem that must also be addressed.

To prepare for their next encounter, he needed to understand every ability Dawn had revealed.

Dawn had improved rapidly.

Dumbledore admitted that without hesitation.

His mastery of Fiendfyre and his skillful use of the secondary magic technique Dumbledore himself had demonstrated earlier were clear proof.

But two things during the duel had astonished him beyond asure.

The magical creatures erging from the pool of blood. And the sudden eruption of the blood curse on his own body.

The first was easier to understand.

Though the exact thod remained unclear, it clearly fell within the realm of transfiguration.

From Dawn's actions, it also seed that he required his own blood or bodily tissue as the transformation material.

As for why such a restriction existed, Dumbledore could only guess it related to the World Correction Dawn had once ntioned.

From earlier conversations and from Dawn's reference to Sika Carter, he already knew that transforming magical creatures was considered impossible.

Dawn had suffered the consequences of World Correction, losing twelve days of ti.

Yet he had truly succeeded.

Perhaps his body had changed as a result.

Using his own tissues might allow him to perform such transformations without triggering the correction again.

Still, Dumbledore could not help wondering how Dawn had achieved what everyone believed impossible.

He narrowed his eyes.

For a mont he rembered the words Good Luck Spring that Professor Trelawney had carved into the table the previous year.

But he quickly dismissed the thought.

The timing did not match.

When Dawn took revenge on Avery, he must already have completed the transformation.

Otherwise he could not have survived Avery's Killing Curse.

Despite missing key information, Dumbledore's reasoning was remarkably accurate.

After briefly reconsidering the unresolved Avery incident from the previous year, he turned to the second mystery.

The blood curse.

He had once studied blood curses because of Nagini, who suffered from one.

It was normally a hereditary curse passed down through bloodlines. But Dawn had sohow triggered it within him simply through contact.

Whether touching Dawn's body or his magic had been enough.

Dumbledore rested his elbow on the desk and thought for a long ti without reaching an answer.

All he could do was remind himself to avoid any direct contact with Dawn's magic in the future.

Recalling the mont his body transford into a bee, his hand drifted unconsciously to the Elder Wand hidden in his sleeve.

The Elder Wand was extraordinary.

It amplified spells and could even repair damaged enchanted artifacts.

Dumbledore also knew sothing else.

Normally the Repair Charm could only be used on objects. But when cast through the Elder Wand, it could affect a wizard as well.

That was how he had escaped the blood curse. He had restored himself to the state he was in before the curse activated.

However, this ability was not limitless. Even the Elder Wand had restrictions.

It could not restore soone to a state too far in the past.

Repeated attempts did not help. That was why he could not cure Amir, whose blood curse had progressed too far.

Ti passed quietly.

Without noticing, Dumbledore finished his tea.

Suddenly his eyes sharpened. He raised his wand and cast a levitation charm on a nearby pile of gift boxes.

The boxes rose smoothly. But he felt sothing wrong.

A faint resistance.

Dumbledore smiled bitterly.

Yes.

After the duel, he could feel it. The Elder Wand was rejecting him.

The reason was simple.

As one of the Deathly Hallows, the Elder Wand possessed a legendary trait. It belonged only to the strongest wizard.

If its master was defeated, the wand's allegiance changed.

Had Dumbledore been defeated? From a broad perspective, perhaps not. He had controlled most of the duel.

He overca Dawn's trick. And in the end Dawn was forced to retreat.

But magic was deeply tied to belief.

At the mont when his body transford into a bee, Dumbledore had truly felt that he had lost.

And at that mont— He lost the wand's loyalty.

After a mont of silence, Dumbledore sighed and tucked the wand away.

Night had fallen.

He decided to arrange new living quarters for Aral.

Just then—

The door opened.

Professor McGonagall stepped inside holding a letter. She glanced around the now-empty office and relaxed.

"Albus, Fudge has left?"

She clearly disliked dealing with the Minister as much as he did.

Dumbledore nodded.

But his attention shifted to the letter in her hand.

McGonagall placed it on the desk with a weary smile.

"It's from a professor at Uagadou. They want to know if soone truly perford magical creature transfiguration."

"Understandable," Dumbledore said. "Scholars of transfiguration would naturally react quickly to such rumors."

He paused.

"But why bring it here?"

McGonagall sighed. "Because the letter is addressed to both of us."

Dumbledore blinked, then shook his head helplessly.

While he worried in his office, the students in the common room were having their own heated discussions.

"Harry, did you see that spell?" Ron exclaid excitedly. "That giant bird ca straight out of the blood!"

He gestured wildly. "It was amazing! If I could learn that magic, I'd definitely beco a great wizard!"

Harry rembered the scene as well. But unlike Ron, he felt more fear than excitent.

"Ron... aren't you worried?"

"About what?"

"About Dumbledore!"

Harry spoke urgently. "Richter just walked into the castle and fought him! Doesn't that scare you?"

Ron waved dismissively.

"Relax. Dumbledore won't lose. He chased Richter away today, didn't he?"

Perhaps because he had once been Dawn's classmate, Ron still saw him through the lens of familiarity.

Even after hearing about the Avery family's downfall and witnessing those terrifying spells, he could not fully grasp the danger.

In Ron's mind, Dumbledore was invincible. And Dawn was just another student their age.

Harry watched as Ron and the twins resud arguing about whether the mysterious Dawn was a ghost or a resurrected corpse.

Harry suddenly felt strangely out of place.

Then he rembered sothing. Dumbledore had told him to check his belongings.

Harry returned to the dormitory.

"Why would he want to check my luggage?" He pulled his trunk out from under the bed.

The lid opened.

And Harry froze.

The most precious thing his father had left him— His Invisibility Cloak— Was gone.

"Professor!"

After searching desperately with no success, Harry rushed out of the dormitory.

The next morning sunlight spread across the sea.

The Daily Prophet published an embellished report of the incident.

Because the story involved a famous figure, the entire British wizarding world buzzed with excitent.

Why Is Hogwarts Always in Trouble?

We all rember that last year a vicious young wizard caused terrible incidents at Hogwarts.

Fortunately, under the wise leadership of Minister Fudge, the Ministry brought the criminal to justice.

However, events yesterday suggest there may be more to the story.

According to Auror investigations, an unknown wizard impersonated the deceased Dawn Richter and infiltrated Hogwarts.

Thankfully, he was discovered and driven away by Professor Dumbledore, preventing any harm.

For once, the newspaper avoided criticizing Dumbledore.

Instead, the articles exaggerated motives, obscured the duel, and emphasized that the intruder fled in defeat.

Speculation filled the pages.

So claid the intruder ca to smuggle magical creatures from the Forbidden Forest, pointing to a thunderbird photographed near the Black Lake.

Others suggested a spy from another magical school had attempted to steal the Sorting Hat.

One bold theory proposed that the attacker was actually a disguised headmaster from another school.

Durmstrang's headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, was listed as a pri suspect.

The most ridiculous article claid the intruder had co to Hogwarts for a romantic encounter with Professor Snape.

Its evidence was a photograph of the Potions Master lying unconscious in the snow.

The wizarding world descended into wild speculation.

anwhile, the person responsible for all the chaos lay lazily in a house in the Vatican.

Dawn had slept an entire night.

Yet he still felt exhausted.

When Avery's Killing Curse struck him before, the lingering effect of the Good Luck Spring had softened the experience.

This ti the sensation had been far more intense.

Still, he refused to waste ti.

Forcing himself to focus, Dawn prepared to examine the two treasures he had brought back from Hogwarts.

First was the Ravenclaw diadem.

He held the recovered artifact with excitent and placed it on his head. The mont it settled in place, a cold sensation seeped into his mind.

Dawn shivered.

Then he realized sothing.

His mind felt clearer.

Curious, he took a book from his wallet that he had never read before and opened it.

Lines of dense text filled the page.

To his surprise, he read far faster than before.

Unfamiliar knowledge beca easier to understand. After reading only once, it felt as though he had already mastered the content.

Dawn stared at the pages, astonished by the effect.

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