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Chapter 122: Scared (Part 2)
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 12:00:29 +0000 UTCIt seemed that Lucius Malfoy had been thoroughly spooked by Noah's hidden identity—and after that, he began to question everything Noah had told him.
This slippery pure-blood patriarch went off to do some real homework. He studied how other Ministries of Magic operated and carefully analyzed the historical trajectory of Muggles.
The result? The man was petrified.
So much so that he didn’t even bother with excuses—he simply tried to whitewash his record on the spot.
Truth be told, Lucius was damn good at it too.
The first time Voldemort fell, Lucius cleverly claimed he'd been under the Imperius Curse, manipulated against his will. The Wizengamot actually bought it, and he walked away free.
Now, after diving deep into the situation in the magical world abroad—especially the approach of the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA)—Lucius probably saw eye to eye with Noah’s philosophy.
Voldemort was doomed, no matter if he won or lost.
The only difference was whether he’d die at the hands of internal resistance or be crushed by international intervention. Either way, even the British Ministry of Magic might fall under foreign control.
And Lucius Malfoy? He wasn’t stupid.
He understood one thing: if Voldemort’s downfall came from external interference, then he, Lucius, was completely screwed. His name—and his entire lineage—could be wiped clean from wizarding history.
The Malfoy family had deep roots and ancient prestige. Lucius would never allow that legacy to end on his watch.
That’s why he suddenly came running to Hogwarts.
He didn’t just show up to charm the Board of Governors into improving Muggle-born welfare. He also took initiative in removing Gilderoy Lockhart, claiming that students disliked him.
In truth, all of it was a strategic gesture—an olive branch extended to both Professor Dumbledore and the mysterious backer behind Noah.
“He’s not dumb,” Noah muttered. “But seriously... why were they all so delusional to think that if Voldemort succeeded, they’d end up with more power?”
That was the part Noah could never figure out.
Honestly, he didn’t have some godlike IQ. Back in his old life, he’d only finished a bachelor’s degree.
But even with basic logic and a grasp of this world's situation, Noah could easily predict what Voldemort’s rise would lead to.
Why, then, were these pure-bloods so blinded?
They had no understanding—or worse, no concern—for how magic ministries functioned in other countries. They didn't even seem to care that the most powerful sorcerer in the world was the Ancient One.
Noah vividly remembered how obsessed these people were with Voldemort.
Statements like “He’s the most powerful wizard alive” or “He’s a living legend” made Noah want to vomit. At times, he genuinely wondered if their brains had melted.
Dumbledore could only offer a bitter smile before replying with a single line:
“Merlin was British.”
“…Oh,” Noah said, rolling his eyes. “That explains everything.”
It was just like British football—since the sport originated in Britain, they acted like they were the best in the world.
These self-important pure-bloods walked around with their noses in the air, thinking:
“We’re the birthplace of magic.”
“Merlin was ours.”
“The other Ministries of Magic are just jokes.”
But reality painted a different picture.
While the strength of each country’s Ministry varied, if they joined forces against Britain? The British magical community would be utterly overwhelmed.
Not to mention, there were already four magic institutions out there that were on par with, if not stronger than, Britain’s.
“What a bunch of clowns. Do they seriously not know that the most powerful magician alive is in Kamar-Taj?”
“Even if they do, they’ll pretend they don’t,” Dumbledore said softly. “They’ve grown too accustomed to their privilege. Changing that mindset… is no small task. Still, not all of them are fools.”
“You mean someone like Lucius Malfoy?”
“Exactly.”
Lucius did have a brain. That much was clear.
Still, Noah couldn’t bring himself to like him.
From the start, Noah had always been disgusted by fence-sitters. Lucius was the type to ride the winds, bowing to whoever was in power.
Sure, survival in this world required some cunning—but at the very least, be useful to someone!
Swinging left and right like a reed in the wind... did he think he was made of bamboo?
Today, he cozied up to Dumbledore. Tomorrow? Who knew where he’d slither.
White meat warning.
Noah sighed and stood up, ready to take his leave.
“Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I appreciate your insight.”
“No, Noah. This is all thanks to you. You don’t need to thank me,” Dumbledore replied with a smile. “Are you heading back? I wanted to ask your opinion on elemental magic.”
“No, I’m not in a rush. Oh, by the way, Professor—why did Professor Snape suddenly become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Because I wanted to see Lucius’s face when one of their own took that post.”
Noah blinked—then burst into laughter.
He understood immediately.
The relationship between Dumbledore and Snape had always been complicated. Noah had long suspected that Dumbledore kept denying Snape the Defense position just to throw others off.
Now, Snape had taken the very job the Death Eaters once coveted.
And as expected, that move would provoke a response.
But it wasn’t just strategy—it was also Dumbledore’s unique brand of petty mischief.
“Lucius must’ve panicked hard.”
“He practically begged me,” Dumbledore grinned, “‘Severus isn’t suitable! He’s a former Death Eater!’”
Looking at Dumbledore’s smug face, Noah suddenly felt like this old man was more black-bellied than he'd realized.
Mind games were often called dirty, but when used well, they were the most satisfying form of revenge.
Noah hadn’t seen Lucius’s expression firsthand—but he could picture it clearly: eyes wide, mouth agape, sweat forming on his temples.
Just the thought of it made Noah chuckle.
This was the same guy who’d acted so high-and-mighty at Flourish and Blotts.
Afterward, Noah spent a long time discussing elemental magic with Dumbledore.
It was like their roles had reversed—Noah became the teacher, and Dumbledore the eager student.
Despite being over a century old, Dumbledore’s passion for learning was unrivaled.
He even took out a notebook and meticulously wrote down Noah’s theories.
He never interrupted. Even when his views differed, he waited until Noah finished and always asked politely—just like a student in class.
This humbled Noah.
He realized just how vast the gap still was between him and someone like Dumbledore—not just in power, but in attitude.
Dumbledore was a Order 5 mage, but his humility rivaled that of a novice.
Meanwhile, Noah—though capable—had let his pride slip in too often.
It was a wake-up call.
Magic was a long road. Arrogance would only hinder his growth.
Their conversation lasted until after lunch, which they shared in Dumbledore’s office.
By the time Noah left, it was already one in the afternoon.
He had Charms class next, and since he didn’t have time to visit the Room of Requirement, he headed straight for the classroom on the fourth floor.
As soon as he stepped in, he saw that the room was packed.
He quickly spotted Evan, who was waving at him from the middle row.
Noah greeted other students along the way, flashing smiles here and there. It took him a couple of minutes just to reach Evan’s desk.
“You’re late! I thought Dumbledore was giving you the day off,” Evan teased.
“You think I’d skip Professor Flitwick’s class?” Noah laughed. “That would be suicide.”
“What were you two talking about for so long?” Lance leaned forward curiously.
“Oh, you know. Some interesting theories. A bit of advanced magic,” Noah said casually.
“Elemental magic, huh?” guessed Kenn.
“Bingo,” Noah smiled. “I’ll teach you guys when the time is right. For now, stick to your textbooks.”
“Knew it was elemental,” Kenn nodded with admiration.
They all respected that. They knew Noah’s abilities were rare and never pressured him for lessons. Opportunities would come, they believed.
“Hey, Noah, check this out.” Ernie, sitting behind him, passed over a newspaper.
“What’s this—The Daily Prophet?” Noah raised a brow.
One glance at the front page—and a big grin spread across his face.
The photo on the cover?
It made Noah’s day.
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Comments
Austin
Love this story thanks for the update
