"So, Professor Dumbledore, do you still expect a Memory Charm to make him forget?" Malfoy asked Dumbledore from the dark corner where the man couldn't see.
Not long ago, the two of them had witnessed a drug addict's independent performance during withdrawal; even if Dumbledore used a Memory Charm, it wouldn't eliminate his addiction.
To alleviate the pain brought on by the withdrawal, he tried his best to divert his attention. The spiritual desolation couldn't be erased, so he could only use to relieve it. The cold sweat on his face increased, and the emptiness in his heart almost swallowed him whole. He staggered to the corner, raised his fist, and repeatedly slammed it against the hard wall, then collapsed to his knees, banging his head against the wall. He didn't know why he was so uncomfortable; this was the only way he could find to divert his attention, using pain to dispel pain.
Then his eyes began to become bloodshot, turning red, and his eyes were wide with fury. This dull method was no longer enough to offset his discomfort, and he began to subconsciously seek sharp objects. Sharp objects could bring him deeper harm, which could bring him more effective pain, but he looked around, and the room was empty, with nothing available.
Then there was only himself left, and his teeth could be used!
He shook his head, opened his mouth, and frantically bit down on one of his arms, instantly leaving a row of deep teeth marks and blood streaks, a shocking sight. It was hard to imagine someone being so cruel to themselves, but soon this also became ineffective. Even if a piece of flesh was about to be bitten off, his pain was only slightly alleviated.
A mix of ice and fire, hot and cold, for a moment his body felt like it had fallen into an ice cave, surrounded by cold, eerie ice, and then it was as if he was in an endless purgatory, with scorching lava flowing over him.
Is this hell?
Maybe it is.
Suddenly his eyes lit up. The door was locked, but the window was not closed. He only felt that he was suffering from the pain of ten thousand ants gnawing at his heart. If he couldn't get relief, perhaps a leap from here would be the best end.
Compared to endless torment, death is indeed a relief.
He scrambled towards the window, his hand reaching the sill, and with a crash, the window was opened.
"Stupefy!" As he climbed onto the window, preparing to end his life, a spell hit him, interrupting his suicide and the pain he felt.
The two emerged from the shadows.
"Why is this?" Dumbledore looked at the man's misery with pity and immediately asked.
"In Muggle terms, drug rehabilitation requires both mental and physical detoxification. Once he's addicted, it's destined that his brain has already undergone organic changes and cannot be reversed," Malfoy said, pointing to his head with his wand.
"So, drug rehabilitation is just a pseudo-proposition. His behavior just now was the result of physical withdrawal," Malfoy said, a cruel smile appearing on his face, making Dumbledore feel a chill in his heart.
"When a person chooses this path, his social attributes have already disappeared, which is almost to say that we can no longer treat him as a human being."
"As food for Dementors, perhaps that's the best end for him to make use of his remaining value. I can hardly imagine what contribution he can make to society."
"This area is full of breeding grounds for evil. If this person dies, there will be more drug addicts living and dying in places we don't know. I can even provide him with a stable source of drugs; perhaps he should thank me."
Dumbledore fell silent again. He couldn't count how many shocks he had received today. Even if he subconsciously couldn't accept Malfoy's approach, he couldn't find any reason to refute it.
This is the bottom of Muggle society; crime is everywhere, and it wasn't this student who lured him into drug addiction.
The potency of this drug is extremely strong; even if hundreds of Dementors were to suck the soul of one person at the same time, it would be more than enough and wouldn't cause more harm.
Even if he had the heart, he was powerless. The Memory Charm just now had clearly shown that even if he forgot those concepts about drugs, forgot those pleasures that could be called ecstasy, the evil factors had long been ingrained in his bones and could never be shaken off.
Perhaps he was just feeling bad because he couldn't help such a pitiful person, feeling powerless. Dumbledore thought to himself.
"By the way, Professor, actually, you can still try it before you die. After all, it's the happiest thing; wouldn't it be a loss not to experience it once in a lifetime?"
"Even so, I wouldn't choose it," Dumbledore said indifferently, shaking his head, avoiding it like a venomous snake.
"Why not?"
"Because I at least want to die with dignity," Dumbledore said in a deep voice.
"Actually, I think so too." Malfoy shrugged indifferently. If a person experiences endless pleasure when they are about to reach the end, perhaps they will regret why they didn't start enjoying it sooner.
Maybe they will leave with regret, who knows?
Moreover, there are still wizards and natural forces now. If Dumbledore really tried it and didn't want to die, turning into the second Dark Lord, that would be a big joke.
However, a truly self-disciplined person would not try these things. It's not that only by getting addicted and then quitting can one's will be demonstrated.
Staying away is always the best way.
"Okay, let's not discuss this heavy topic anymore. So now, Professor, are you satisfied with my solution?" Malfoy then asked.
"Mm." Dumbledore nodded. His answer was extremely short. Then he walked to the window, silently gazing at the bright moon outside, not saying a word, only an occasional sigh could be heard.
"Some people are not worth saving and protecting," Malfoy's voice suddenly rang out in the room.
"Maybe," Dumbledore sighed, his tone full of helplessness, as if at this moment he was no longer the omnipotent, highly respected first person in the wizarding world, but just an old man powerless in the face of suffering.
Da da da....
Dumbledore tapped the glass window in front of him with his wand, making such sounds. This meaningless action often relieves people's anxiety.
"I'm very interested in you now, Draco," Dumbledore turned around, adjusted the half-moon spectacles on his nose, and said with a curious tone that was completely different from just now.
He had now adjusted his mood and didn't have so much time to feel sentimental. He carried many responsibilities on his shoulders. If the leader couldn't control his emotions, how could he convince the people?
But the bewilderment in his heart was still deepening. This student of his was full of mysteries, making him want to explore the truth.
"It feels really subtle to hear such words from an elder who is gay," Malfoy silently complained in his heart, but still casually explained: "What's so curious about it? Professor, I just read a few more books. In the Muggle society, these are just simple common sense."
"Oh?" Dumbledore's tone lengthened, still scrutinizing the student in front of him.
"Then take it as it is." Dumbledore twirled his beard, and said helplessly.
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The day after the Dementors attacked the players during the Quidditch match, the students were surprised to find that the Dementors outside the school gate had collectively disappeared. They were all secretly guessing what had happened. The biggest possibility was that Dumbledore was angry and had a big fight with the Ministry of Magic, and then the Ministry of Magic gave up their means of deployment at Hogwarts.
"That's impossible." Ron said confidently at the dining table, "My dad often tells me that the current Minister of Magic can't listen to other people's advice, let alone that his relationship with our headmaster is not good now."
He lowered his voice and continued: "I heard that the headmaster actually raised a strong protest at the time, but it still failed. Now I think Fudge will definitely not give in, even if his disobedient subordinates make mistakes, he will try his best to maintain them."
"His rise to power is really a tragedy." Ron sighed, looked down at his arm, thinking that his injury was almost healed, and his mood became a little lighter.
"Then the Dementors around our school have indeed disappeared." Simon asked curiously. He was one of his roommates.
"Then I don't know." Ron stretched his intact hand to the table, took a piece of his favorite mutton pie and ate it heartily, "Maybe they were scared out of their wits by our headmaster."
"Cough cough." Ron's face began to turn red. Perhaps because he ate too fast and spoke at the same time, he choked.
Several students next to him helped him and used a spell to solve the problem.
This was just a small episode.
Dinner time ended quickly. Just as the students were about to leave and return to their lounges and dormitories, the door of the auditorium suddenly closed tightly with a "creak".
"Everyone." Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the hall. "I have a few small things to announce here, so I need to take up a few minutes of your time. I hope everyone can return to their seats where they just ate and listen to me for a few words."
So the students sat down again.
"Well..." Dumbledore glanced around, cleared his throat, and said in his unique deep voice: "I think everyone has noticed today that our school has returned to its former tranquility, right?"
There was a rustling sound and whispers from the audience. A Hufflepuff student said loudly: "Yes, headmaster, those hateful monsters have disappeared from our sight. Did you do it?" His eyes were full of admiration and worship.
"Oh, although I would like to act as the hero in your eyes, I am very sorry that this is not my credit." At this time, Dumbledore glanced at Slytherin, glanced at Malfoy with his blue eyes, and then continued: "After the unfortunate accident yesterday, I was also a little angry at the time, so I immediately chose to write a letter to the current Minister of Magic to communicate and express my dissatisfaction."
"As you know, the speed of owls is not that fast, so I need to get a reply at least the next day."
Dumbledore paused.
"But an accident happened." He said with a complicated tone, waving his wand casually towards the door, and a copy of the "Daily Prophet" appeared in front of each student's table.
The front page of the newspaper has already explained everything very well—Fudge is standing in front of Azkaban's door with a frustrated face, with extremely bold black letters written on it: Dereliction of duty by the Minister of Magic? How long can Cornelius Fudge sit in the Minister's seat?
"Since the Dark Lord was defeated by our Savior, our wizarding world has gradually returned to its former peace. In the following years, our lives have gradually returned to normal. Peace is so hard-won, I think everyone has a deep understanding of this. What we all know is that the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, only became the Minister of Magic after Millicent resigned in 1990. It has to be admitted that he was very lucky. Barty Crouch, who had a high position in the Ministry of Magic, was unable to take on this position due to his personal reasons, and the highly respected Mr. Dumbledore also declined this position, so he—Fudge, a possibly the most incompetent mediocrity in history, took on this position that concerns the future of our wizarding world."
The following words began to enumerate the troubles that occurred during Fudge's tenure, from normal decision-making and execution, and even a comprehensive analysis of his personal life.
Why did Azkaban, which had never had a prison break incident, happen during his tenure? Could it be that he deducted the Aurors' wages and embezzled them? Why do Dementors frequently lose control, wreaking havoc in the Muggle world, and even the safest place in the wizarding world has been tainted by them?
Is this a group of obedient guards or unstable bombs that may rebel at any time?
Perhaps yesterday we didn't know yet, but today the facts are very clear. There is no doubt that it is the latter.
Overnight, whether it was the Dementors around Hogwarts, or the Dementors responsible for searching for fugitives in other places, or even the Dementors responsible for guarding Azkaban, overnight! All rebelled! Disappeared without a trace!
Now we can change the subject and talk about the criminals in Azkaban. Apart from Black, who has already escaped, there are actually still a few wizards in Azkaban who have been eroded by Dementors for many years who can maintain their sanity.
Under the dual effect of Dementors and Aurors, their supervision can still be guaranteed, but when the Dementors go on strike, it is hard to imagine how those few wizards can deal with these vicious and clear-headed wizards.
Just a little bit, we might have ushered in the darkest day in wizarding history today. A collective prison break in Azkaban would bring endless riots to society and even seriously affect our principle of secrecy in front of Muggles.
Fortunately, our First Wizard arrived in time, and a catastrophe was eliminated, otherwise, maybe you readers would see some other things you don't want to see in the headlines today. (To be continued.)
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