"Thanks to you," Dumbledore a gentle smile, "This group was involved with several illegal organizations, and with Lucius's help, we successfully rescued a captive dragon."
"That's good." Draco nodded. He wasn't particularly interested in the Fantastic Beasts themselves, but he knew that dismantling this illegal network was beneficial for maintaining stability in the Wizarding World.
"But I don't have time to chat now," he changed the subject, "The third trial is imminent, and it seems that Ranrok and the others have already obtained a portion of the Ancient Magic power related to the second trial from Rookwood Castle."
"In that case, go quickly, Draco. The entire office is now under your control. I will protect you and ensure that no one disturbs your trial."
Draco walked up to Fitzgerald's portrait, with Dumbledore following slowly behind.
At his call, Professor Fitzgerald's picture frame glowed, and her image awoke from its slumber.
"No time for reminiscing, Draco!" Professor Fitzgerald was not distracted by Dumbledore's gaze.
Please ascend to the base of the attic immediately.
"There you will see a book. Read the words on it aloud, and the trial will begin immediately."
Draco followed his instructions and stepped onto the spiral staircase leading to the attic. Dumbledore was secretly puzzled; he had spent so many years in the Headmaster's Office and had never seen any books on the base.
What he didn't know was that these mechanisms and items would only appear when the Ancient Magic trial began.
When the two reached the attic, Dumbledore was stunned.
On the empty base, a black-covered ancient book lay quietly, its origin unknown.
Draco picked up the book and gently opened it.
In an instant,
A blinding golden light burst forth from the pages of the book, and countless black linear energies surged out from the book, entangling his body.
Dumbledore was startled and instinctively raised his wand to cast a spell to sever these strange energies:
" Draco, watch out!"
However, before he could utter the incantation, Draco's figure flashed away in a burst of light, and he was sucked into the book.
" Old Dumbledore, I'm alright!" Before his figure was completely swallowed by the golden light, Draco only had time to shout this one sentence.
Dumbledore in astonishment at the now-calm book, then turned and went downstairs to ask Fitzgerald in the portrait, "Professor! Draco has been sucked in. Is he in danger?"
"Don't worry, Albus," Fitzgerald reassured calmly. "It's part of the trial; he'll be fine."
After receiving the reply, Dumbledore felt much relieved.
He believed in Draco's abilities.
Now, he needs to deal with the increasingly complicated situation caused by the intelligence brought by Draco.
When Draco refocused his gaze, he found himself standing in an indescribable, strange space.
All around him, in every direction, was an endless expanse of pure white. There was no ground, no sky, no walls; he seemed to be floating in nothingness.
Even more bizarrely, countless tiny black ash and debris, remnants of a burnt-out fire, floated in the air.
They drifted erratically, like a never-ending black snowflake; as some fragments drifted closer,
Draco could clearly see the debris, like the embers left after some huge object burned, which floated slowly in the air, creating a desolate and eerie scene.
"Welcome to the Realm of Fables, Trialer." Fitzgerald's voice echoed throughout the heavens and earth.
Their voices were heard, but they were never seen.
"You will witness an ancient fable here, but remember—seeing is not always believing."
As Professor Fitzgerald finished speaking, the once pure and flawless white space underwent a violent transformation.
The ink, like spilled thick juice, permeated the field of vision, intertwining with the remaining pale white to create a depressing picture.
The sky was no longer an empty void, but was covered by swirling black and white cloud patterns, and the ground was transformed into a cracked stone path.
On both sides of the road, dead trees bared their claws, their dark branches stretching towards the sky like twisted arms.
In the distance, the outlines of stone walls and dilapidated houses are rough and menacing, like a nightmare scene casually sketched with charcoal.
Even the debris in the air turned into tiny ink dots the size of needles.
In this deathly and eerie scene, Professor Fitzgerald's voice rang out once more.
"Listen carefully, trial seeker!" Her voice carried a hint of urgency, "You need a cloak, for in this allegorical realm, death is real."
You must evade death's pursuit.
That was the end of her advice. Draco suppressed his discomfort and began to walk along the only cracked stone path.
A stone bridge appeared ahead, spanning a dry ravine.
The moment Draco crossed the stone bridge --
"BOOM!!!"
A silent yet deafening thunderclap seemed to explode directly in one's soul! The swirling clouds in the sky suddenly sank downwards!
Across the stone bridge, on the roof of a stone house, space distorted, and an unimaginably enormous entity materialized and manifested.
Then, a terrifyingly enormous figure slowly appeared—a gigantic skeletal Grim Reaper.
The skeleton was wearing a hooded black robe.
Long, skeletal claws rested on the stone roof, its empty eye sockets and gaping bony jaws radiating an overwhelming sense of oppression.
At that moment, Death's pale bone claw slammed into the ground, and instantly, black mist erupted from the point of contact, rapidly condensing into countless small skeleton soldiers.
These undead warriors let out a piercing roar.
They brandished their rusty weapons and charged into the panicked villagers, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.
After completing the soldier delivery, the giant Grim Reaper transformed into a thick cloud of black mist and slowly dissipated into the air.
" Disillusionment Charm!" Draco realized what was happening and, without hesitation, cast the highest level of invisibility magic on himself.
A streak of light flashed, and his body gradually became transparent, blending into the surrounding dark background.
He crouched low and crept forward along the village's winding paths, with patrolling skeleton soldiers passing by from time to time.
Their empty eye sockets scanned the surroundings, seemingly searching for any trace of life. Black mist continued to drift down from the sky, spawning new skeleton soldiers upon touching the ground.
If it hits an object, it will shatter into a pile of black dust.
Some of the black mist seemed to have struck the rocks in the air, causing those rocks to fall from the sky as if cursed.
He had to nimbly roll and dodge, avoiding both the patrolling ghosts and the "rain of stones" falling from the sky.
As they ventured deeper, the entire village was almost entirely filled with an army of skeletons, and the shadow of death was everywhere.
Draco cautiously advanced, wondering to himself: What could he possibly do to break this deadlock?