Chapter 164: 6-2

Draco Malfoy now clearly regretted joining this journey as a member of Harry Potter's lot—the object of his lifelong, twisted admiration.

"This is just too much—no matter how many lives you have, it's not enough to be the hero's best friend!"

Clinging to the back of a thrashing, blind dragon, he regretted his life choices with a rather pathetic expression on his face.

It was about time they made their move. Harry was the one who broke the ice. Listening to him were his two familiar best friends, the "extra" (as Maria called him) Draco Malfoy, and the crucial guide for this mission, the difficult goblin—Griphook. Sitting on the bed so he could look over the four of them, Griphook leaned back with utmost displeasure at the fact that he was being used by the wizarding kind he despised. In other words—Harry Potter's party had finally risen to break into the wizarding world's most impenetrable fortress, Gringotts.

Inappropriately, Draco was excited by the preview of their next adventure. The time had finally come—the legend of breaking into Gringotts would become a staple drinking story in the not-too-distant future. The main storyteller would be Ron Weasley, who had a big mouth, a big ego, and a big attitude. Thanks to his habit of exaggerating, the legend of the Gringotts break-in would spread with massive embellishments. It was truly a heroic tale that children would admire. And the reality of it was about to be brought to Draco as a raw, firsthand experience right here and now. To stand on the stage as one of the characters in that very legend—even Draco Malfoy still had a bit of a boy's heart in him.

"There’s no more time to spare. We can’t hesitate. I don’t have grand ambitions like saving the world—at best, it’s just necessity pushing us—but we can’t leave such a suffocating world to the children who’ll live after us."

The four of them knew who the children Harry referred to were. It was about the good news that had arrived a few days ago—the first child of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Remus Lupin. Harry had once again been chosen as the godfather of a new, small life.

Bringing the news to Shell Cottage with great joy, Lupin had first looked for Maria. However, Maria had long since departed Shell Cottage, and the only ones who knew her destination were Draco Malfoy—and Harry, who realized that her side was where he truly belonged. Maria Potter was waiting at Hogwarts for the journey's end.

Unable to meet Maria, Lupin smiled self-deprecatingly with a hint of loneliness, then unhesitatingly named Harry. He pleaded with him to become his child's godfather. For Lupin, there was no other possible godfather than Harry. Because Lupin knew, just a little—just a tiny bit—the future that a certain two people had walked.

The existence of a new life—the fact that a new generation was being born within their reach—solidified Harry's resolve.

A departure at dawn. Hermione, disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange, gripped Bellatrix's wand with deep disgust. First, she altered Ron's appearance. Next was Draco. Harry and Griphook planned to follow hidden under the Invisibility Cloak.

They passed through the Leaky Cauldron and strode down Diagon Alley, which was as dark as death. The street, once bustling with first-years and their families, was now noticeably filled only with vagrants, making it seem in a much worse state than Knockturn Alley to Harry. In fact, Knockturn Alley might be the liveliest place left in this depressing world.

The men walked hesitantly, flanking the empress Bellatrix. No, the only one loitering uncomfortably was the unrecognizable man who used to be Ron. Hermione-Bellatrix was stiff with tension, while the man who had been Draco acted with magnificent arrogance.

"Madam Lestrange!"

They all stopped in their tracks. Draco whispered. It's Travers—a Death Eater. He had to squeeze out a rather old memory, but he probably wasn't wrong. He remembered that face.

"I didn’t expect to see you here. I mean—you made a terrible failure—"

"Insolent fool!"

Suddenly, Draco bellowed at the man from the bottom of his stomach, making not only Ron but even Hermione, who was currently Bellatrix, jump with an astounded expression. Draco puffed out his chest and took a step forward. Travers was completely taken aback.

"How dare you speak to Madam Lestrange with such disrespect! Madam Lestrange has made no such mistake!"

"B-but—according to the rumors—"

"The facts before your eyes matter more than rumors. Or what, are you saying you doubt Madam Lestrange, the one 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' trusts the most? That means—I will take it as you doubting 'the Dark Lord' himself, is that understood?"

Having the existence of the absolute ruler dangled before him, Travers trembled in fear. At that, the man playing Bellatrix's lackey—Draco—snorted in satisfaction. It was the perfect image of a petty underling borrowing the authority of a tiger.

"Hmph, if you understand, step back. Madam Lestrange is here on important business. If you get in the way, it is you who will receive punishment from the Dark Lord."

"Ugh... You—you, I'll remember that face."

"I'm honored."

Not that you’ll ever see this face again— Ron and Hermione were dumbfounded by Draco, who had completely shut down the Death Eater. However, regaining their senses quickly, they started walking, following Draco's eye signals. Ron muttered, "You know, you'd make a good actor."

"...It’s called relying on past experience."

The unreserved laughter of the hazel-eyed girl who wasn't here ran exasperatingly through Draco's mind.

"—Achoo!"

"It is crucial to treat a cold early on, Miss Maria."

"No, I might have just pushed myself a little too hard... I don't think it's a cold. And I told you to stop calling me 'Miss'."

"A young lady is a young lady, Miss."

"You stubborn thing."

"I seem to take after my master."

I groaned as I exchanged what had somehow become our standard banter with the old house-elf. Standing before that certain door, my worries were still endless. The original magic I had created together with my Ron and Hermione wasn't taking the shape I wanted. Even though I had returned to Hogwarts immediately after waking up, and managed to cram Ancient Runes and carve them exactly as Hermione instructed, for some reason it just wouldn't succeed. Something was missing. What on earth was it?

However, contrary to my impatience, the time I could spare for magical experiments and special training was only decreasing. —That was because the resistance force, led by Neville, had started living in the Room of Requirement. You could even call it a refuge. The students' fight was reaching its peak.

"It is about time everyone returned from Mr. Aberforth's, I believe."

"I guess that's it for today. Show me the Marauder's Map. —Alright, there's no one in the corridor. Let's change the room back to our usual hideout while we can."

Reluctantly but cautiously, I stepped out of the Room of Hidden Things. When I opened the differently shaped door that reappeared on the wall, it had transformed from a mountain of junk into an interior well-equipped for people to live in. I walked to the back and touched the sealed box that I strictly forbade anyone from touching. —I want to see you soon.

"—Maria, I'm back!"

"Welcome back, Neville. Was there any change with Aberforth?"

"Yeah. But listen. Big news! I've got the most wicked souvenir story. —They say Harry broke into Gringotts!"

Ah—I smiled back in relief at Neville, who appeared with a beaming face from the other side of the tunnel leading to the pub. We've finally made it this far.

"I have to make my move, too."

"Miss Maria?"

I hugged Kreacher, who was by my side. A non-human friend who had stayed close to us, believing in us wholeheartedly for so, so long. I don't want to lose anyone else.

"Kreacher, thank you for everything up to now. The final battle will surely begin in less than a few days. Hogwarts will turn into a battlefield. Please, just stay like this—"

"Yes, of course—I will serve you until the very end."

"Kreacher..."

"Dobby is a hero to us house-elves. If so, Kreacher will inherit his spirit."

I gasped, having the name of my friend brought up—a name that pierced the lonely part of my heart time and time again. Kreacher was by no means wearing an expression of affection—he was looking at me with the utmost strictness.

"Even though you used to hate him, calling him a young upstart."

"I still despise him, indeed."

...Hehe. A laugh spilled from my lips. Eventually, it grew louder. The resistance members who were returning from the tunnel one after another tilted their heads in confusion. I slowly met eyes with one of our female members—Lavender.

"Lavender, I have a favor to ask."

Harry used the Unforgivable Curse, Imperio. Draco felt a headache coming on at that fact. Not out of condemnation, though. Among this group, Draco was the one closest to the Dark Arts and felt little hesitation toward Unforgivable Curses. It was just that his self-serving fantasy had crumbled before the reality that even the hero couldn't remain purely spotless. Somehow, Harry Potter’s biggest fan might actually be Draco Malfoy.

The cart started moving. The Thief's Downfall washed away their disguises, revealing the three of them. Next was the dragon. The scarred giant was thrashing around, dragging the chains that bound it. All they could do was laugh at this absurd cart ride.

Subduing the pitiful dragon with the Clankers, they finally snuck into their true target: the Lestrange family vault.

"The cup! A golden cup—it has a badger engraved on it, and it has two handles! Look for it!"

Harry's desperate voice echoed within the vault, which had turned into a hellscape of agony due to the Geminio and Flagrante Curses. He somehow spotted something resembling it in the back, but it was out of reach. Summoning Charms didn't work either. They had to use something with a long reach—the Sword of Gryffindor.

Now, even if they retrieved the cup prepared to get burned, problems piled up just as high as the vault itself. For one, Griphook’s betrayal—clutching the Sword of Gryffindor snatched from Harry, Griphook shouted that thieves were present. Surrounded by swarming goblins, there was no way out. The only escape—was up.

"Get on the dragon!"

Taking and dodging the goblins' attacks, the four of them scrambled up the blind dragon. Ron destroyed the chains tethering its massive body to the ground. Hermione blasted a hole in the ceiling. And then, Harry reminded the dragon of its fighting spirit.

"Wait, are we flying? Really? On this? That's insane—"

"Everyone, hold on tight—if you get thrown off, you're dead!"

"You've got to be kidding me!?"

Overriding Draco’s scream, the dragon forced its way through the ceiling with brute force. Soaring up—up and up—until the small goblins became specks, yet still higher. Terrified to look down, yet dizzying to look up, Draco in his battered state questioned the sanity of the other three.

—The creature known as a hero was utterly absurd.

The flight carried the four of them without a hint of elegance. To begin with, steering was impossible. The newly freed dragon had no idea there were four extra pieces of luggage stuck to its back. The moment it noticed, they would either be bucked off or turned into food.

As the dragon prepared to land near a lake, timing it right, they jumped into the water. Finally saying goodbye to the sky journey. Flying is definitely best left to broomsticks, thought all the men except Hermione, feeling the coldness of the water.

"I thought I was going to die."

"It's always like this when you hang around Harry. Things are pretty similar on your end too, aren't they? Mr. Knight to the Tomboy Princess."

Floating on his back in the lake, looking utterly haggard, Draco was casually comforted by Ron. Moving away from the dragon, they climbed onto the opposite shore. After half-heartedly wringing out their clothes, they dried them with magic and cast protective enchantments.

"So, we've got one piece of good news and one piece of bad news, exactly."

"—We got the Horcrux. But we lost the means to destroy it."

About that—before Draco could bring up a stroke of luck he suddenly remembered to the three worrying figures, the situation escalated. Harry's scar connected him to Voldemort, and they learned that You-Know-Who had realized a Horcrux was stolen from the Lestrange vault.

Voldemort was coming to Hogwarts. They couldn't afford to waste a single second.

"Hogsmeade. We need to find a way into the castle from Hogsmeade."

"That's reckless."

"We've made it this far by repeating that recklessness."

Hufflepuff's Cup was thrust in front of Hermione's eyes. The golden color, the very symbol of their "recklessness," reflected Hermione's face eerily.

"...I understand. It's either stop here and die, or keep moving forward and live or die."

Without a moment to rest, the party Disapparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Naturally, there was a trap. Death Eaters and Dementors enthusiastically welcomed the four. And just as it was about to turn into a chaotic brawl, the one who rescued Harry and the others was an old man with nostalgic blue eyes—Aberforth Dumbledore.

"Where did you get that mirror?"

Appalled by the fact that their situation had been entirely known to the old man without them realizing, eight pairs of eyes stared at the shard of the two-way mirror.

"Maria. That little brat acted like she knew everything and forced this on me, telling me to cooperate. I don't like that kid. She's got eyes exactly like my brother's."

Maria had guided them—but Harry found it hard to feel genuinely happy about that. What did that girl know, and why was she trying to fight all alone? Why—wouldn't she stand together with them?

As expected of a pub, Butterbeer and a light meal were served to the exhausted four. For once, even Draco threw manners out the window and devoured the food. His strained nerves finally found some rest. As the teenagers frantically emptied their plates, Aberforth kept constantly adding more food, albeit gruffly.

"—Well now, if your bellies are full, go to sleep. You can't move until dawn anyway. At night, you'll run into the same trouble as before."

"We want to go to Hogwarts. Right now."

"Save your sleep-talking for when you're actually asleep."

"I'm serious. Please, isn't there some way?"

Stopping his hands that were polishing a glass, Aberforth stared intently at Harry. It looked so much like Dumbledore's eyes when he was chiding a passionately agitated Harry, that Harry instantly felt uncomfortable. Even so—he couldn't look away. The moment he averted his gaze, this man would stop listening to what he had to say.

"Why go to Hogwarts?"

"I have a job entrusted to me by Dumbledore."

"To a half-baked wizard like you? I suppose it's a job that four half-baked wizards can handle, eh?"

"That's—no, but, it has to be me—it can only be me. Dumbledore—your brother left us with hope until the very end—"

"You seem to trust my brother a great deal. Tell me, Potter. Has my brother been honest with you during your journey so far? Was his claim that 'it must be you' really the truth? Can you trust it? Have you never doubted it? Not even once?"

"That's..."

Not just Harry, but all four of them, showing bewilderment, eventually fell silent. Draco, in particular, was remembering Maria. Maria—no, the Harry Potter from before she became Maria, the one only he knew in this world.

You—was your love for Dumbledore this intertwined with pain? It's like swallowing too much medicine. Medicine taken in the wrong dosage becomes entirely poison. Did you—swallow even his poison and love him anyway? Enough to carve it into your son's name.

"I know my brother. His cruelty, how many people were hurt while he was achieving what he thought was good, his failures, his mistakes."

"........."

Harry's eyes shifted to the portrait of the girl who appeared to be Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore's sister, Ariana. Blue eyes followed the direction of the green gaze. Just from that, Aberforth seemed to understand what Harry was trying to say.

"The people my brother cared about mostly ended up in a state where you'd think they would have been much better off left completely alone."

It was an incredibly harsh thing to say. But no one could deny it.

Aberforth continued. Dumbledore's treatment of his sister and his greatest mistake were being revealed by his own blood brother.

"Even so, do you still trust Albus?"

Concluding with that, Aberforth stared into Harry's eyes almost as if praying. In those eyes, the tears he had shown when talking about Ariana's death still remained.

The image of Dumbledore as seen by Aberforth was undeniably evil. Ruthless and cold. Completely different from the Dumbledore that Harry and everyone else had idealized. It was like he was talking about a different person. —Yet, it was definitely Dumbledore.

Only he knew Dumbledore's immaturity. And it could be inferred that Dumbledore himself probably condemned himself as evil just as much as Aberforth did.

Harry was wavering. Anyone could see it. Thrust with the fragile parts of the Dumbledore who had been perfect, forced to recognize anew that he was just an ordinary human who made mistakes like anyone else, the absolute truth within Harry was shaking.

Therefore, Harry—

"I trust him. —Because Maria trusts him."

The eyes, identical to Dumbledore's, widened in astonishment.

"Maria knew. Dumbledore's personality, his past, his ideology, his heart. Knowing all of that, she still trusted him. She looked at even Dumbledore's dark parts alongside him. So—I will trust Maria, who trusts Dumbledore."

A ruthless pause. It was a torturous silence where no one opened their mouths.

"────Hah,"

A breath resembling a scoff broke it.

"Ha, ha—hahaha, hahahaha! I see, so it's not Albus—Albus just happens to be at the end of what you believe in. Albus is just an extra. Haha—no, it serves him right!"

At the hearty laughter erupting from him, the four of them looked at each other all at once. The impression of the difficult old man completely changed. Eventually, calming his fit with a deep breath, Aberforth returned to his grumpy face and nodded.

"That's far more reassuring than those who are blindly devoted to Albus."

Standing up, he went to Ariana. When he whispered to his sister in a gentle voice, "You know what to do," the girl in the portrait nodded in response. She walked further into the background of the painting. There was a tunnel there. From the other side of the tunnel, Ariana brought back someone unbelievable.

"""—Neville!"""

"I believed it—I knew you'd come! Harry!"