The Only Four Grand Wizards

Dumbledore didn't force Harry to join this trial, but the premise was that Harry would 'coincidentally' know all the information and make his own decision.

But everything?

Boy, you have my attention.

Dumbledore blinked, bid Hagrid farewell, and then vanished entirely in a whirlwind of flame.

Basil didn't know anything about what happened in the wooden cabin.

After finishing dinner as usual, they climbed the stairs back to the common room.

However, the stairs between the third and fourth floors had a glitch, sending them to the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor.

Because the decorative flooring was all the same.

They didn't pay attention and walked straight to the end.

It was only then that they realized they had gone the wrong way, facing a large, slightly ajar door.

Basil didn't have time to stop him.

The meddlesome Ron opened it.

It was a three-headed dog!

So large it filled all the space from the ceiling to the floor.

Three pairs of fiercely rolling eyes, three noses twitching and quivering in their direction, and three slobbering mouths, with drool hanging like sticky ropes from its yellowed fangs.

"Run!" X4

Boom! An engine ignition sound, audible only to Basil, rang out.

Dragon Fire ignited in his heart, his blood turned to lava, and dragon scales emerged beneath his skin.

From his perspective, through golden vertical pupils, everything slowed down.

Bang! In a flash, he slammed the door shut with his left hand.

He stomped on the ground, retreating while spreading his hands to shield the other three behind him.

Accompanied by a dark red, turbid flow, a strange, spiritual wand surged forth.

"[Shield Charm]!"

The [Grimoire] and [Dragon Knight] activated simultaneously.

A massive, invisible, yet fiery barrier enveloped the four of them.

Boom!

The door flew open.

One of the three-headed dog's heads poked through the doorframe.

Its mouth gaped wide.

Crystal-clear drool splattered everywhere.

With a crunch, its hard, yellowed fangs bit through the door, shattering it.

It scraped against the barrier, emitting a sound like metal clashing against metal.

Under the force of the Shield Charm, the three-headed dog felt its head ringing.

The other two heads struggled to squeeze through the doorway.

But they were blocked by the dazed middle head.

Seizing this opportunity, they bolted, practically flying.

The foul stench and the blood-red mouths were now deeply etched into their minds.

They spurred their little legs to pump furiously.

The scene gradually receded, surrounded by silvery-white mist.

The blank space in the middle reflected it all.

A twisted nose, blue eyes, and half-moon spectacles appeared beside it.

It was Albus Dumbledore.

He leaned back entirely in a high-backed chair with brass fittings and purple velvet upholstery.

His long legs were stretched out, watching the young wizards' perilous moment with an extremely relaxed posture.

A voice came from the six-inch-long silver mirror on his desk, facing away from him.

"Too daring, Albus. If you were the headmaster of our school, I'd definitely impeach you."

Dumbledore slid his finger.

The image in the silver mist began to move.

It shifted to the room with the three-headed dog and the trapdoor.

The other two heads of the three-headed dog barked incessantly, but no sound was heard.

Its body was being pulled towards the trapdoor by invisible chains.

It struggled in vain, leaving scratches on the stone floor.

The voice spoke again, "You've cast a spell. Of course, with that beloved boy of yours around."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry isn't special. I wouldn't sacrifice any life to protect him, except my own. This test isn't for him either."

He slid his finger.

The image reversed.

It shifted to the boy who was once blond with blue eyes.

Golden vertical pupils flickered faintly.

Patterns of scales flashed across his fair skin.

And that peculiar wand.

The handle resembled a roaring dragon's head, the shaft was black and metallic, and the fiery red wand itself was covered in sharp, black dragon spines.

"Hiss! Don't you think he resembles someone? Besides the eyes." The owner of the voice paid no mind to the wand's strangeness, and seemed accustomed to the abnormalities on Basil.

"Gellert?" Dumbledore's azure eyes glazed over for a moment before suddenly clearing. "No, this boy is more handsome. They just have similar hairstyles. And only when he was young."

"A pity. I thought you might bloom again. After all, I handed that thing over to you. My old bones thought I'd see you have a family before I died." The voice taunted.

"Dying? The potion you left is enough for you to use for another century. If you regret it, you can always—"

"Alright, let's talk about the boy! Your new target."

Dumbledore knew when to stop. "Don't you think that boy is special?"

"Special?" A light laugh echoed from the mirror. "It's just simple magical transformation. In my long years, I've seen too many geniuses. Countless individuals more special than this boy. This wand is merely a modification through advanced alchemy."

"What about me? Why are you so special to me? Have you grown tired of Perenelle?"

The voice in the mirror became flustered. "No! Don't say that, don't let Perenelle hear! You should know yourself. There are many excellent, talented wizards. But someone like you, a true 'Arch-Wizard', there have only been two in my career."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, four."

The voice trembled for the first time. "Who? Besides you and Grindelwald? That ridiculous Voldemort? Him too? How is that possible?"

"In the inheritance of magic, all our ancestors are inscribed. The descendants of Slytherin, due to excessive inbreeding, have had their ancestral madness increase with each generation. This is also called the Forbidden Bloodline. Even pure-bloods who value the nobility of their spouse's lineage and ancient family lines will not marry those with the Forbidden Bloodline. Because the superior talent brought by the Forbidden Bloodline also drives them to madness and hysteria. Let alone learning magic, they struggle to support themselves. Only a few are exceptions, like Isolde Sayre, the founder of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Why are you reciting history to me? I am a witness to all of this."

"Tom and this great witch share a common trait. They are both half-bloods."

"I know that. I saw that Voldemort myself. His Slytherin heritage is too strong, almost not like a half-blood. Although he appears polite, the madness that lingered in his heart surprised even me. He cannot bypass them and become an Arch-Wizard."

"You might not be aware. His father impregnated his mother while under the influence of a love potion. Born under such circumstances, he inherently lacks certain emotions. A few negative emotions won't affect him. And perhaps, becoming an Arch-Wizard doesn't require the sublimation of the soul."

"Doesn't require it? You and I both know that magic is an illusion. But the essence of our magic, apart from some damn magnetic field, is belief. And an Arch-Wizard is someone who turns the void into reality, a being who truly possesses magical power. Apart from breakthroughs in the mind, there are no other shortcuts!"

"What about magical transformation? The most dangerous, the one that's fundamentally impossible? Prying open one's own skull, pulling out one's own veins, tempering the bones of the entire body, dismembering the ethereal soul."

"How did he survive? Never mind the danger. The pain from such magical transformation alone could shatter a soul."

"At least three Horcruxes to remain immortal. Killing, endless killing to vent the pain. Do you think his nose just disappeared?"

Upon hearing this, the voice uttered "Madman" and fell silent.

He felt a mix of emotions.

He once thought it was mere trickery.

Dying repeatedly in full view of everyone, only to be resurrected in unexpected ways.

This miracle, akin to Jesus' resurrection, had likely been displayed by Voldemort multiple times.

Was this also the reason why those Death Eaters were so devoted to him, so convinced he would surely rule the world?

After a long pause, the voice spoke again. "There's one more?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips, his eyes on Basil shining with a fervor even greater than when he looked at Harry.