Hogwarts’ John Wick

Chapter 554 554: 554: A Letter To The Future

"But among wizards, only you can match him. I want you to stand against him."

Weren't you the one who said your goals were the same?

Fine then.

You go deal with Grindelwald and let me see whether you truly practice what you preach.

Travers stared at Dumbledore, and the Aurors fixed their eyes on him as well.

Under the gaze of so many, Dumbledore slowly shook his head. "I can't."

Travers nearly laughed.

You claim everything you've done is to oppose Grindelwald, yet when asked to face him, you refuse?

Then tell me, aren't these forces you've gathered meant for rebellion?

You're so arrogant you won't even prove yourself, yet expect me to believe you humbly?

Travers raised his wand expressionlessly.

A moving photograph appeared, showing a young Dumbledore and a young Grindelwald.

The Aurors, including Theseus, were stunned.

In the photo, the two gazed at each other. Travers said, "You and Grindelwald were once as close as brothers."

Dumbledore looked at the image, his voice carrying hidden regret and memory. "We were far closer than brothers."

It was a painful memory, like honey laced with bitterness.

Seeing the photograph, he thought of his sister, and his heart filled with remorse.

But worse still, he missed it. He missed the one time in his life when he had been completely understood.

Travers ground his teeth. "Are you willing to stand against him or not?"

This was the final ultimatum.

A trace of pain flashed in Dumbledore's eyes as he gave his answer. "I can't."

Travers was completely disappointed in this wizard. "Then you've already chosen your side."

With a wave of his wand, a metal band appeared around Dumbledore's wrist.

It was a monitoring shackle. From this moment on, every spell Dumbledore cast would be known to the Ministry of Magic.

At the same time, the number of people watching him would double.

Travers left in anger.

Theseus was still processing the fact that his former teacher and Grindelwald had once been closer than brothers.

He was called to a stop by Dumbledore.

"If Grindelwald gathers people, don't try to interfere," Dumbledore said sincerely. "Don't let Travers send you, if you still trust me."

"THESEUS!" Travers shouted. Did you take silence for stupidity?

I just stepped out, and you're already trying to win over my subordinate? Isn't that going too far?

Theseus's expression was complicated. Can you tell me what kind of relationship could be closer than brothers?

As someone who adored his brother to an obsessive degree, Theseus simply couldn't understand. What in the world could be better than brothers?

…

Leta also arrived at Hogwarts, but she didn't go with the others.

Instead, she came alone to that corridor filled with memories of her student days.

She stopped at the entrance to the Great Hall, tilting her head up to look at the floating candles.

No matter how much time passed, this place never changed.

Continuing forward, she arrived at a classroom she had once used.

Back then, she had been ostracized at this school. The girls spoke ill of her, and the teachers grew distrustful because of the rumors.

Certain matters related to the Lestrange family had become the very reason others targeted her.

Only Newt had given her some good memories in this place.

A little Slytherin snake meeting a warm-hearted Hufflepuff.

Sitting at an old desk, her thoughts were pulled back.

"Hello, Leta," Dumbledore appeared at some point. "What a pleasant surprise."

Leta responded to his presence with clear indifference. "Because you saw me in a classroom? Was I such a bad student?"

Dumbledore smiled. "On the contrary, you were my most brilliant student."

"I said bad, not stupid." Leta stood up, letting out a self-mocking laugh. "Don't bother trying to come up with an answer. You never liked me."

"You're wrong," Dumbledore said, frowning. "I never thought you were bad."

"Then you're truly different." Leta didn't seem convinced. "Everyone else thought I was bad. And they were right. I am wicked."

Dumbledore studied his former student and said, "I understand. Those rumors about your brother Corvus have caused you a great deal of pain."

"No, you don't understand." Leta remained cold, though her tone carried a hint of mockery toward others' concern. "Unless your brother died too."

Aberforth: thanks for that.

Dumbledore paused slightly. "It was my sister who died."

Leta looked at him in surprise.

There was hostility between them, yet also a mutual curiosity about each other's past.

Leta's voice softened a little. "Did you love her?"

At those words, regret and pain appeared in Dumbledore's expression.

He took a deep breath and walked toward Leta.

"I regret that I didn't love her enough."

Looking into her eyes, Dumbledore said, "It's never too late to let go. Being honest is a kind of release. It can lift a great weight from your heart."

Leta did not feel relieved by his words, only guarded.

"I've spent my life accompanied by regret. Don't let it consume you," Dumbledore said patiently.

Leta said nothing and left.

Dumbledore stared at the old desk, and in the end, remained silent.

…

As evening approached, John was handling business at the post office.

"Sir, I need to confirm this once more."

The courier widened his eyes. "These three letters are to be sent in 1997?"

Mail to be delivered seventy years later?

The post office had never received such an absurd request.

John placed a gold coin on the counter.

The courier said, "This isn't about money."

A second coin.

"Well, I should remind you, no one has ever done something this crazy."

A third coin.

"No, don't push me."

A fourth coin.

"I…"

A fifth coin.

"I need to discuss this with the post office."

A sixth coin.

The courier said, "I'll arrange it for you right away."

John set down a bag, and the courier opened it with trembling hands.

Inside were gold and diamonds, so dazzling he could barely keep his eyes open.

With a solemn expression, the courier declared, "I'll carve the date onto my body. Even if I die, I'll deliver it!"

At that moment, his face was filled with a sense of devotion.

John nodded in satisfaction and gestured for the courier to come closer.

He lowered his voice. "Remember, you must deliver it. If it's lost, this money will be used to buy your head."

The courier shuddered and gave an awkward smile. "You're joking, sir."

"You think someone who can produce this much money would joke with you?"

John looked at him with a half-smile, making the courier swallow hard.

He silently swore to himself that even if his legs were broken, he would deliver the letters.

Taking out a sealed box, the courier carefully placed the three letters inside.

He set the box on the highest shelf in the post office as a reminder to himself.

John nodded in satisfaction.

He wasn't worried the courier would forget. He had already placed a spell on the post office.

The bag of jewels was the same.

If the letters weren't delivered on time, they would all be finished.

Call him ruthless if you wanted. He was ensuring there would be no mistakes, and he had provided more than enough incentive.

One who breaks their word does not deserve to live.

As he walked out of the post office, he saw the black veils drifting through the skies of Paris.

"Grindelwald," John murmured softly.

Having finished everything, John headed back toward the safe house.

When he reached the building, he stopped.

Looking up, he saw Credence and Nagini standing on the rooftop.

The one facing them was another person.

Grindelwald.

…

"What do you want?" Credence growled, full of vigilance.

"What do I want from you? Nothing at all." Grindelwald sat on the rooftop, not even taking out his wand. "But what I can give you… is everything I never had."

He looked at Credence. "But what do you want, my child?"

Drawn in by his words, Credence said, "I want to know who I am."

Seeing that Credence had taken the bait, Grindelwald smiled faintly and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket.

The parchment floated from his hand toward Credence.

"From this, you can find proof of your identity."

"Come to Père Lachaise Cemetery tonight, and you'll find the truth." Grindelwald had no fear that he wouldn't come. He gave a slight bow and Disapparated.

Credence remained where he was, holding a map of Père Lachaise Cemetery.

He wasn't sure whether he should go.

"Looks like you've found a lead."

John's voice sounded from behind.

Credence turned back in surprise. "What should I do?"

John walked across the rooftop, glancing casually at the map. "Follow your heart, Credence."

"Will you come with us?" Credence looked at John with great expectation.

"No. I came to say goodbye."

John shook his head. "It's time for me to leave, Credence."

He gave a slight nod to the two of them. "I hope things turn out as you wish. This time, I'll be gone longer."

"Wait, no!" Credence reached out, calling after him.

John's figure vanished.

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