Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 410 Seizing Power
In the end, Dumbledore didn't say anything to Tyella, but silently returned to Hogwarts with Tyella and Slytherin.

After all, although Dumbledore lived to be 116, when it comes to magical cultivation, the accumulation of magical theory, scheming, and strategic planning, Tyella couldn't even come close.

But if you're talking about debate, then I'm sorry, but someone who hasn't even attended a proper university, who hasn't studied morality, modern history, Marxist philosophy, Mao Zedong Thought, or even dialectics of nature, I, Tiera, am truly not intimidated—

Anyway, I'm not trying to convince you, I just want to leave you speechless.

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Slytherin exchanged only a few pleasantries before leaving the headmaster's office, leaving only Dumbledore and Tyella behind.

"What? Is there something else?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

Tierra did not leave with Slytherin, nor did she intend to. Instead, she sat opposite Dumbledore's desk, waved her hand towards the air, and summoned a pot of black tea.

“The Tales of Beedle the Bard,” Thiers said with a smile, extending his hand.

"Regarding this," Dumbledore said calmly, "I still maintain my original view. Compared to your resurrection experiment, I think that right now... I mean this semester, Harry should rest first."

"But the Dark Lord doesn't rest."

"With you here, we can make the Dark Lord rest whenever we want, can't we?" Dumbledore countered with a smile. "If you really want to do something to Harry in my name, I will clarify things."

"Hehe..." Tiera chuckled dryly, "Alright, alright."

Tiera smiled and shrugged.

“Then I won’t bother you any longer.” Tierra said with a smile, getting up to leave. “Headmaster, you should also take a rest. Although I just removed the curse from your body, because the curse was so deeply connected to your life force, I had to draw some of your life force away as well… So I suggest you get some rest, or ask Mr. Lemaître for some more elixir of immortality.”

"Don't worry, I will," Dumbledore replied with a smile, seemingly unconcerned. "I hope you remember that I am first and foremost a headmaster, and I am responsible for my students. I will give you the power you desire, but Harry has been under too much pressure lately, and I really think he should take a break."

Tyrell smiled and said, “Believe me, Professor Dumbledore, Harry simply won’t get any rest… To be precise… Neither Voldemort nor the Ministry of Magic will allow Harry to rest.”

……

Meanwhile, at number twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry was boredly looking out at the street through the dirty, dilapidated windows of the Black family's ancestral home.

As the holidays drew to a close, Harry found himself missing Hogwarts more and more each day.

He couldn't wait to see Hagrid, to play Quidditch, or even to walk through the vegetable garden to the greenhouse for herb lessons.

It was such a relief to leave this filthy, rotten old house, where half the cupboards were still locked up, and Kreacher would always grumble and curse from the shadows as you passed by. Harry had to be careful not to say these complaints where Sirius could hear him.

In fact, living in the headquarters of the anti-Voldemort organization was not as fun or exciting as Harry had originally imagined. Although members of the Order of the Phoenix came and went regularly, sometimes staying for meals and sometimes just for a few minutes to whisper a few words, Mrs. Weasley made sure that Harry and the others could not hear anything, whether with their human ears or their telescopic ears.

No one thought Harry needed to know anything more than what he'd heard the night he arrived, not even Sirius. On the last day of the holidays, Harry was cleaning Hedwig's excrement from the top of the closet when Ron walked into the bedroom with two envelopes.

“The book list is here,” he said, tossing an envelope to Harry, who was standing on a chair. “It should be here soon. I thought they’d forgotten. It usually arrives much earlier.”

Harry swept the last bit of excrement into a garbage bag, then tossed it over Ron's head into the wastebasket in the corner. The wastebasket swallowed the bag and burped loudly. Harry then opened his letter, which contained two parchment sheets: one, as usual, reminded him that school started on September 1st, and the other told him what books he needed for the next school year.

“Only two new books,” he said, reading from the list. “Standard Spells, Level 5, by Miranda Goschak… and Defense Against Magic Theory, by Wilbert Slinka.”

"—Snap!" Fred and George Apparated and suddenly appeared next to Harry. He was now used to their antics and would no longer be so startled that he would fall off his chair.

“We’re wondering who ordered Slinka’s book,” Fred said gently.

"Because this means that the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts class has finally been chosen," George said.

"What does this mean?" Harry asked, jumping down and landing beside them. "What do you mean it's finally confirmed?"

“Oh, yes, a few weeks ago, we overheard Dad and Mom talking with our Snap-Ears,” Fred told Harry. “From their conversation, we learned that Dumbledore seems to want to implement educational reforms at Hogwarts, so he submitted a long list of reform measures a few weeks ago.”

“Hmm… I know that, didn’t I say that…” Harry said, “I was there at the time, Dumbledore presented his educational reform plan to Wizengamor after my trial.”

“No, not that time,” George said. “After that, Dumbledore went to the Ministry of Magic again and submitted a more detailed and complex educational reform plan… We didn’t hear much else…”

“All I know is that the Ministry of Magic neither agreed nor disagreed, but decided to send an investigator to investigate the specific situation at Hogwarts before making a decision,” Fred said. “I guess Dumbledore took the opportunity to pass the hot potato of Defense Against the Dark Arts to the Ministry of Magic.”

After saying that, George and Fred both grinned mischievously.

“One was expelled, one died, one had his memory erased, and one was locked in a box for nine months.” Harry counted them off on his fingers, then grinned mischievously. “Haha, Dumbledore is really cunning.”

……

Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.

Dumbledore was rubbing his temples, feeling a bit of a headache.

“See, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Tyella said with an innocent smile as she sat opposite him. “I told you, the Ministry of Magic definitely won’t let this go.”

“But this also solves the problem of your troublesome Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” Tierra added. “You should be happy.”

(End of this chapter)