Old Lying Bastard Dumbledore

In the tranquil depths of the lake, Dumbledore gazed meaningfully into Merkus's eyes.

Merkus suddenly laughed, laughing especially happily.

Dumbledore laughed as well, like a child.

"Professor, your acting was pretty good," Merkus said, no longer speaking ancient Mermish. The voice sounded very familiar.

It raised a thumbs-up high. "You took on a last-minute role so smoothly, Professor. You really were amazing!"

Dumbledore's smile vanished, and he looked at it rather speechlessly. "Really? You nearly scared me into having a heart attack just now."

Merkus modestly waved a hand. "If you're acting, you have to go all the way. Otherwise, how could we make them believe it?"

Dumbledore shook his head with a wry smile. "Never mind that, child. Are you planning to keep looking like Merkus?"

Merkus reached for the Obsidian Spear embedded in the silt and pulled a familiar Alder Wand from the sapphire at its tip, which gave off a gentle glow.

The wand tip lightly touched its forehead, and the scales covering its body began to shrink miraculously.

Its fish tail split down the middle, transforming into human legs.

Its messy dark green hair kept shortening, its color steadily lightening.

More human features appeared on its rugged face. Those deep, lively azure eyes were especially striking.

The shrinking scales eventually became Hogwarts robes, while its hair color settled into ash blond.

Its face writhed, its bones and muscles breaking and growing.

This was not partial transformation, but full-body Human Transfiguration—a highly advanced technique.

The whole transformation happened so quickly that before Dumbledore had time to marvel, the Merkus before him had changed back into Vincent.

"Professor, you never told me the merfolk leader was a woman."

Vincent pulled out the Obsidian Spear beside him. "If you'd told me earlier, I wouldn't have turned into her."

Dumbledore pressed his lips together, clearly struggling to hold back his laughter.

"Professor?"

"Cough, cough—" He composed himself slightly. "Is Merkus all right?"

Vincent raised the spear and pointed behind him toward the Merfolk Village. "She's fine, but it was my first time forcibly breaking someone free from the Imperius Curse. I hope it won't leave her with any aftereffects."

Dumbledore waved the Elder Wand, extending the platform formed from lake water beneath their feet toward Vincent.

"Did you find anything?"

The two were carried toward the Merfolk Village.

Vincent no longer wore that flippant grin. His expression was serious and composed. "If I had, I'd have gone up there and arrested them already."

If clues had really been so easy to uncover, the Death Eaters would not have gone to such lengths to replace someone.

They had gone through the trouble of infiltrating the stadium and even attacked the campsite to incite panic. The person who had been replaced definitely held no low position in the Ministry of Magic—at the very least, they were not some insignificant lackey who merely followed orders.

Dumbledore stared intently at the approaching Merfolk Village. "Set this matter aside for now. The Ministry's situation is complicated; it isn't something we can interfere with."

Vincent knew the Ministry's situation. His understanding of Fudge might not have been thorough, but it was certainly deep enough.

What good decision could that brain, full of power struggles and intrigue, possibly come up with? It would be better to investigate in secret himself.

He let out a faint sigh. "Professor, this isn't like with Augustus Rookwood. There are at least three Death Eaters this time. We only know that one of them is Peter Pettigrew; we know nothing about the other two."

Dumbledore remained silent.

If Rookwood had not been exposed by Karkaroff, he would likely still be lurking within the Ministry of Magic to this day.

Visible enemies were not frightening. The deadliest attacks often came from a stab in the back.

Fortunately, Rookwood had died in Azkaban. Otherwise, with his extensive experience and familiarity with the Ministry, he would certainly have been able to cultivate a group of highly capable spies.

"Spies..." Vincent's expression seemed to freeze.

He remembered something—something he had nearly forgotten.

During last summer's Quidditch World Cup, many of the broadcast devices supplied by Wayne Enterprises had malfunctioned.

There were no signs of human interference, and the circumstances behind the malfunctions had all been identical.

At the time, he had suspected there was a mole in the Ministry, and that it was a high-ranking official with access to the maintenance manuals.

He simply had not expected that the trap had been set but failed to draw out the mole. Instead, they had happened to encounter the Death Eaters invading the stadium to kidnap someone.

After that, all the equipment had functioned normally, with no more malfunctions.

The mole had not surfaced again either, and Vincent had gradually forgotten about it.

Now that he thought back on it, the Ministry mole and the person replaced by the Death Eaters seemed to share something in common.

Both were high-ranking officials, and both had access to core secrets.

And the mole had stopped causing trouble after the campsite attack. It was truly hard not to be suspicious.

Outside the Merfolk Village, Vincent turned to look at Dumbledore, who was patiently watching him. "Professor, I have a suspect."

Dumbledore did not react much after hearing his analysis. Even upon learning that there had been a mole in the Ministry much earlier, he was the same, as though he had known already.

Very few people knew about this. Vincent trusted Hermione and his own employees, so it could only have been Tonks who leaked it.

"Professor, the Order of the Phoenix's intelligence work is certainly thorough."

Dumbledore smiled, his gaze settling on the fallen merpeople.

They had been hit by Stunning Spells—all at the same time.

He narrowed his eyes at the disgruntled Vincent. "Gellert really did teach you everything."

A Mirroring Curse that could fool Moody's Magical Eye was one thing, but he even knew chained casting, a spellcasting technique lost for centuries.

Vincent knew that look in Dumbledore's eyes all too well. Whenever Hermione saw a girl strike up a conversation with him recently, she wore the exact same expression.

Being stared at like that by the strongest wizard of the age would put enormous pressure on even the most socially fearless person.

"Cough, cough—" Vincent straightened his back slightly. "Professor, if you want to learn it, you can go to Nurmengard and ask the old man yourself."

Dumbledore's hand holding the Elder Wand trembled slightly.

The calm returned to his face at once. "It is not time yet. We can discuss it after everything is over."

Vincent blinked his large eyes, feeling the relief of having narrowly escaped disaster. "Merkus probably hasn't woken up yet. Professor, follow me."

He led Dumbledore to the mermaid statue. Merkus lay on her back in the silt at the bottom of the lake, with her guards collapsed to either side of her.

She looked to be in decent condition, though there was no telling whether there would be any aftereffects.

Dumbledore bent down close to her, the Elder Wand in his hand emitting a dim green glow.

Vincent toyed with the Obsidian Spear in his hand. "Professor, is this really the precious treasure passed down through generations of merpeople leaders? Why can't I see anything special about it?"

A childlike, innocent smile spread across Dumbledore's face. "It is right that you cannot see anything special, because it is an ordinary spear."

"Huh?" Vincent loosened his grip, and the spear slowly sank into the silt on the lakebed. "Professor, that's a rather outrageous lie."

Dumbledore copied his innocent expression. "As far as I know, there are only seven wizards in the world who have studied merpeople in depth and understand their language."

"Fine." Vincent picked up the spear and placed it back in Merkus's hand.

The old bastard Dumbledore could lie without even blinking. The words just came out of his mouth—he must have been an expert liar in his youth.