Chapter 605: Mr. Bagshot (2 in 1)
It was completely dark by the time Felix returned to Hogwarts Castle.
He strolled around the edge of the Forbidden Forest and casually pulled a pocket watch out of his pocket, and with a loud crisp “click” a Niffler Valen poked her head out and bounced out of it.
“Sorry to keep you in there, whatever Jim and Rebecca think you are, it will never be a living creature that should be in reality.”
“Kee (that’s okay.) .”
Valen, who had run ahead, waved her hand behind and wiggled her furry body as she darted to an upright log in front of Hagrid’s hut, where the sturdy, burly Hagrid was busy in the clearing in front of the hut, “Yo, Valen?” He looked quite happy, leaning on a shovel that was beyond his specs, and looked around.
“Hey! Felix, Dumbledore’s back and I know you’re paying attention to this.” He shouted, “He looks a bit tired though, all tangled up with those foreigners!”
“Got it, Hagrid.” Felix waved his hand in the distance as he looked towards the small tower that jutted out high above the castle, the one with the lights on.
A few minutes later, Felix knocked on the door of the Headmaster’s office.
Dumbledore was sitting on the chair, without even bothering to change his travelling cloak, looking all tired. He straightened up, “Felix? I have just wanted to see you about something, I just got back and my mouth is terribly dry … tea? Coffee? Fruit juice? I also have some wine in my collection if you want to try something new.”
Felix smiled, “I haven’t had any from your wine cabinet collection, um – can I take a bottle to give as a gift?”
“Don’t mention it, be my guest, I’m not able to find an occasion to enjoy them very much.” Dumbledore said, then asked curiously, “Severus?”
“Caring for an old man in an empty house.” Felix said with a sense of humour without a fail.
“Fantastic comment, perhaps I should make a note of it for a future use – oh, I’m afraid it won’t work, it’s hard to stumble upon someone who is older than me.” Dumbledore pouted, but he didn’t dwell on it for too long, and spoke in a light-hearted tone in turn, “Many of your ideas are out of tune with others, Felix, perhaps it was a childhood experience that prompted you to start thinking more individually at a very young age … Oh, I’m sorry.”
Felix shook his head slightly and took a bottle of wine out of the wine cabinet. The glass doors reflected the stars outside.
Dumbledore snapped his fingers and two empty goblets appeared out of thin air, the two men watched as the red mellow wine filled the goblets, and after that, both raised their goblets a little to take a small sip, Dumbledore smacked his lips contentedly, “Severus hasn’t grown that much older though.”
Felix raised an eyebrow, “But to be honest … his life is very dull, probably more duller than mine.”
At least he had made some room in his schedule for entertainment.
He placed his goblet to one side, his eyes fixed on the other man, as he said.
“Albus, my research has come to a standstill, Soul is a rare and forbidden field and there is too little information on it for us to take any chances. Come to think of it, Voldemort’s brain being broken is not a big deal-”
Dumbledore stared at the goblet in his hand, without a reply. After a moment he said, “Wait for me.” He walked around the desk and made his way straight through the magical barrier to the spiral staircase that led to the first level, and in a few moments he came down, carrying a bundle of parchments.
“What’s this?”
“Some of my personal contemplation on the ‘soul’.” Dumbledore said with a slight nod.
Felix took it with a slight surprise and skimmed through two of its parchments, and simulating them in his thinking room, his eyes shone, and he couldn’t help but carry a hint of exhilaration in his tone, “This data is very helpful, certain parts of it coincide with my research, but it is more comprehensive and more in-depth than mine … ”
As he said this, he stared at Dumbledore oddly, since when did Dumbledore start to explore the soul part?
Is it really true that the older you get, the more you dabble with the world?
“I got a report today that Grindelwald is missing.” Dumbledore said in a hushed voice.
“Missing?” Felix repeated, his mind going over the piece of news as he raised his hand, “I wasn’t involved and know nothing about it, if that’s what you’re getting at.” He explained rather sheepishly, “At best, we’ve been talking through a few letters.”
“I know.” Dumbledore said briefly.
Just as Felix pondered the meaning behind the word – did he ‘know’ that he was not involved in the old man Grindelwald’s prison break; or did he ‘know’ about his correspondence with the Old Dark Lord through house-elf – Dumbledore continued, “I have contacted several of my old friends urgently, and they are still in contact with certain core acolytes and no further information has arrived yet.”
“Even after all these years, there are people who are still loyal to Grindelwald?” Felix was quite amazed.
If that was true, why had these people sat by and watched Grindelwald being imprisoned for half a century?
“It’s hard to put Grindelwald’s influence into a sentence or two,” Dumbledore shook his head slightly, his expression grew serious, “His influence was once extremely terrifying and when I was teaching at the school as a professor, he had already assembled an army of wizards strong enough to overthrow any Ministry of Magic in the world. It took me a lot of brainstorming to shake the foundations of his followers and drive him to the corner …”
He changed the subject and said, “Even though Grindelwald made so many grave mistakes, in the minds of many he is still the one who is best qualified to lead them.”
Real history is far less bland than words written on paper.
It is alive, living, and actually happened, and it is difficult to sum up all the qualities and charms of a man with just a few sentences in a history book.
It is particularly true for later researchers, as the words ‘very talented and attractive’ are likely to appear almost anywhere and be used to describe more than one person. But it must be acknowledged that every individual is different from one other.
“For the time being, there is nothing to worry about,” Dumbledore stated lightly, “He is bound by powerful magic restrains, and I can guarantee that those restrictions still remain in place, and he will find it difficult to even use most common magic … Whatever he wants to do, these restrictions objectively place limits on his magic ability.
What I am worried about is that the loss of power will prompt him to think, to hide and lurk in the shadows, to preach his philosophies, to gather an army, or to stir up disputes with another set of philosophies, and the danger that would bring is too great. I was even worried for a moment that he was going to bewitch you.”
“Hmm.” Felix mused, I don’t think I am someone that can be bewitched by some philosophies and ideals.
Dumbledore said with a slight smile, “I only recently figured out that there are always a lot of characteristics shared by many brilliant people, the one difference is that you hate trouble and value simplicity, which keeps you from getting too involved in authority. Because authority is complicated, and the more authority you have the more complicated it will become.”
“What kind of man was Grindelwald really? His nature, his looks-” Felix asked.
“No, Felix, you simply can’t understand, these things hardly matter a bit; what really matters are his ideas, his thoughts! You cannot imagine how his thoughts attracted me, inspired me. Muggles will be compelled to submit by us, and we wizard will raise ourselves above every creature in this world and live more openly.”
“I once desperately wanted to stand by his side and regarded him as something close to a spiritual leader for this revolution … I was completely obsessed with it, full of brutal dreams, and I certainly thought about how much harm our dreams would do to the world, but in the end, I convinced myself with the empty reasoning that it was all for the greater good. If I could gain power, I could protect my family and keep them in the sun in open view, and I could shelter more people, but I was wrong, and my lust for power led me to go against my original intentions and made me neglect the people I should have valued above all else.”
Pain surfaced on Dumbledore’s face, his eyes gleamed with tears.
“I probably understand it somewhat,” Felix said softly, “In a time when people are generally confused and dissatisfied with the status quo, ideals and philosophies can become a powerful weapon that can cause bloodshed and change.”
They talked for a long time, Dumbledore did not avoid the fact that he and Grindelwald had once been very close friends, probably because of the sense of security brought on by the dark night, and he confessed that he had once been drawn toward Grindelwald’s evil cause and contributed a lot of ideas and wisdom.
Felix poured him a goblet of wine and said comfortingly, “You do not need to blame yourself for that, Albus, you have never put those ideas in your mind into practice. Who doesn’t have some dreams and ideals, noble or vile, when they are young? Talented and resourceful people tend to make bigger mistakes because ordinary little things hold no challenge for them – world domination and all that, I’ve thought about that too.”
Dumbledore looked at him in shock.
Felix shrugged, “I did give it some serious thought and came to the conclusion that it isn’t cost-effective. I need to pay too much time and effort to get too little return.”
Dumbledore broke into a smile.
Then he looked down at the goblet in his hand and said with a sigh, “But what if your ideals can only be achieved through power? All those obsessive, beautiful visions, when you earnestly strive to get there, hoping it will become a reality … the kind of extreme obsession which can only be awoken by much more colder reality later on, but what’s the point? Everything will be too late.”
What you dream and value may be completely different from the rest, or even diametrically opposed by the majority of people.
Felix understood this, so he did not mention the ‘so-called ideal’ of his own, because he knew that the ideal that Dumbledore spoke of was not at all the same kind of concept as his; he personally hoped that the wizarding world and the outside world would merge, but it is merely a ‘hope’, and he could wait and be happy to leave it in the hands of someone else. In the unlikely event that it could not be accomplished, he would simply withdraw all his tentacles without delay and bide his time in peace.
It must have cost Dumbledore a great deal when he was able to wake up back then. So great that the thought of his former ideals pained him to the core, filling him with disgust and regret.
Felix thought about the things that Dumbledore had not mentioned too much in front of others, Dumbledore’s ‘family’.
“Don’t worry Albus, I had told him in my letter that the time has changed and his ideas are outdated, and I would only be willing to talk to him about it when … it is updated. I have only one question, if he suffers a terrible failure, would he kill the innocent indiscriminately? Like Voldemort?”
“Take pleasure in torturing muggles? That would not be the case; he would always have his eyes only on his own goals, he is an idealist and aims so far ahead that the sacrifices along the way would appear like a price that must be paid in his eyes.”
Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I wish he had changed. I heard he showed remorse when he was locked up in Nurmengard alone, and regretted what he had done. I hope that’s true. Otherwise-”
“He’s capable of causing far more damage than Voldemort.”
…
A week passed in the blink of an eye and Felix finished digesting the manuscript Dumbledore had given him.
During this time, the wizarding world was safe and sound, no one country’s Ministry of Magic had been attacked; no one had come forward and announced the reorganization of the Acolyte Force, everything was normal. Everyone went about their business, and since that night, Dumbledore had gone back to tussling with the representatives of various countries, adding the subject of how to deal with the threat of Grindelwald in addition to discussing the damage caused by Voldemort.
That morning, he had gone to Spinner’s End Street and accidentally bumped into the Malfoys at Snape’s house, which had thwarted Felix’s intentions, as he knew that there was no way Severus would ever speak his mind in front of so many people.
But it wasn’t all for naught; during the conversation that was full of wit, Felix was able to grasp the general purpose of Lucius’ visit – and his relationship with Snape, who was also a spy – Felix could even surmise that Lucius had definitely visited more than one family, such as that Selwyn and those Purebloods who had been on edge recently.
With a simple move of his lips, Felix could gain the allegiance of these people and become their nominal leader.
They would stay in line with Felix as long as he didn’t touch their bottom line. This is an attractive offer – with Voldemort as a bad example, the purebloods’ bottom line is pushed extraordinarily low.
But Felix had to give something too, and there was only one thing at stake in summary – his name, and he had to allow those purebloods to use his name.
This implied a minimum level of protection.
Felix didn’t refuse, because this is the time when someone like him needs to step in and take the representative role. It is impossible for Ms. Bones to carry on being imposing all the time, much less throwing even the innocent into prison, so as to give these people a piece of mind and prevent them from escaping en masse to foreign countries this is necessary …
If Felix can tolerate the Shafiq family, Ms. Bones has to tolerate the purebloods who are not a threat in any way.
“You haven’t moved out of the safe house?” Felix asked with interest.
“Not yet, it is quite comfortable to stay there.” Lucius vaguely said.
Felix chuckled in his mind, Lucius could have meant what he said, but he could also have had another purpose – to wait and see for a while, Lucius knew Voldemort isn’t dead.
“Well, you guys can stay in that house for a while, it’s empty anyway.”
Lucius talked smoothly about the subject. He spoke about their life in that ‘little house’ with the same amount of lamentation as if they were experiencing life in some poor backwater village where conditions are particularly harsh.
“There’s so much stuff we have. Even after Narcissa and I put a portion of our stuff in the Gringotts, there’s still plenty left over … These days we’re working on the Undetectable Extension Charm to make the house as big as possible while keeping it aesthetically pleasing … Draco, tell your professor about it …”
Draco put down his fork and said dryly, “We blew up the floor-”
“Cough cough cough!” Lucius coughed heavily, glaring at his son, and explained, “Neither Narcissa nor I am very good at this charm because – because -”
“Never had any use for it.” Felix added helpfully.
“Uh, yeah.” Lucius said sardonically.
After exiting Snape’s house, Felix looked around, the faint stench of dirty rivers and hills of rubbish drifted over from the distance, the weeds overgrown and barren surroundings, and the eerie and unsettling abandoned buildings which were casting dark shadows.
It all made it hard for him to feel sympathy for Malfoy’s hard life.
Probably Severus felt the same way, and his face grimaced the whole time when Lucius complained.
Felix even regretted a little taking out the bottle of Dumbledore’s hidden wine collection.
After he explained that it was Dumbledore’s collection, Snape just barely drank half of the glass, while Lucius drank it with gusto.
In the afternoon, Felix wandered around the property he owned on the busy streets of London – with Winnie Valentine – and they ended up accidentally running into Harry, who had someone else with him, not Sirius, but an unfamiliar face.
“Professor Hap.” Harry greeted meekly, he tried to pretend he didn’t see him coming, but the person next to him suddenly spoke loudly, and before he could react, he sensed Professor Hap’s eyes darted over him.
Felix nodded at Harry, “Come to buy your books?”
“Oh no, I’m accompanying Mr. Bagshot to buy a walking stick. He’s only recently moved in, lives alone, and it isn’t that convenient to walk alone at his age.” Harry said. In fact, there is more than that, the old man must be very lonely and out of touch as he doesn’t really know much about modern products, and recently he has been filling up the gaps.
Plus he has a bit of an eccentric personality …
But Harry was relieved when he found out about his identity, Harry knew that the Squibs are more or less suffering some psychological problems.
“Bagshot.” Felix mulled over the surname in his mind.
He felt a faint hint of magic in him, is he a wizard? Would Dumbledore know him? He held out his hand without moving, “Hello, Mr. Bagshot, I’m Felix Hap.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Hap.” Grindelwald extended his hand and the two shook hands together, Felix felt a magic like a pool of dead water in him and his mind drifted off.
A Squib. …
Grindelwald revealed his exclusive wand hidden within his shirt and said courteously, “I have to say a word of thanks, because of you, people like me are able to re-enter the stage of history.”
Winnie Valentine, who was accompanying him, looked at the old man with sympathy.
She felt secretly grateful that she was lucky enough to have stumbled upon the invention of the exclusive wand at such a young age; if she had been like this old gentleman, forget about how much of the exclusive wand’s power she would have been able to use at that time, it would have been very painful simply to be cut off from magic for so many years just because there was no such a thing invented in her young age.
“Yes, we are all grateful to Mr. Hap from the bottom of our hearts.” She said emotionally.
They stood at the intersection chatting casually for a few moments, and Felix learned from this Mr. Bagshot that he had used a great deal of courage in order to attend an interview for a magic related job this afternoon.
“Good luck.” Felix said.
“Thanks, I’ve been very lucky lately.” Grindelwald grinned.
————
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