Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 1102: Chapter 189: Interwoven Fates

Braun leaned on the railing of the hospital rooftop, casually observing the street view, while the inconspicuous Communication Pea in his ear was slightly heating up.

On the other end of the communication, Vito was meticulously relaying the content of the discussion to him.

A genuine smile slowly spread across Braun’s face, as he pressed the Communication Pea, seemingly able to feel his companions’ excitement through it.

”A kingdom entirely of our own? Growing quietly in the Muggle world? ...Marvelous.”

He said in a cheerful tone, laughter rolling from his throat:

”Do you need me to do anything in advance over here? Like, using the identity of the Witch Pure Party to drop a few business cards in certain places, or... send some small gifts to certain people in advance to pave the way?”

”No, no need.” Vito said, ”We want this force to be born with a pure background, without any extra interference.”

”So if you want to help, Vine, you personally can, but the Witch Pure Party is not needed.”

This idea seemed somewhat naive, as Vid himself would, from time to time, pop out with some untimely viewpoints and persuasions.

However, Braun did not object, rather he laughed softly and pleasantly.

”I agree wholeheartedly.”

He said, his voice carrying a rare and nearly solemn promise:

”Whenever you need me, feel free to call. Any kingdom can’t do without its shadow part.”

...

Ending the communication, Braun’s relaxed smile slowly receded.

He glanced at the distant street, lingering no longer, turned and pushed open an inconspicuous door leading to the building’s internal fire escape, heading downstairs.

A few minutes later, Braun pushed open a heavy soundproof door marked ”Authorized Personnel Only.”

Behind the door, the walls and ceiling were snow white, the floor was milky white, and the bed sheets and cabinets were all in soft tones, with the air carrying the scent of disinfectant.

Doctors and nurses briskly moved through the corridors, each face carrying a particularly grave expression.

Braun did not halt his steps, directly heading to the end of the corridor to an intensive care unit. There, Abigail was looking through the observation window on the door.

Inside the ward lay several children, all extremely thin, their complexions an unhealthy bluish-grey amidst paleness, connected to various life-monitoring equipment, with a constant ”beep, beep, beep” sound.

Their bodies bore various hideous stitched scars, having endured unknown tortures in the past, even in their sleep, frowning painfully and occasionally emitting a weak sob or scream.

These children were those they had rescued from the secret laboratory run by Wrightford.

Due to past experiences, some of them had developed a deep aversion and fear towards magic, instinctively rejecting magic, even affecting the cure effectiveness of the Magic Potion.

The Witch Pure Party had no choice but to first transfer them to a Muggle hospital, using ordinary human medical technology to sustain their lives, while dispatching people to places like Diagon Alley, Echo Alley for purchasing healing potions brewed with Phoenix Tears.

Abigail stood silently, her silhouette appearing unusually slender and stiff, motionlessly gazing at the children’s painful appearances.

As Braun approached, he heard Abigail softly say:

”That healer sent by your Witch Pure Party said... one of the children is showing signs of almost forming into an Obscurus...”

”Yes.” Braun said airily, ”That’s what I’ve heard too.”

Abigail slightly frowns: ”I’ve heard that decades ago, Mr. Grindelwald very much desired the power of an Obscurial...”

Braun laughed quietly: ”You might as well directly ask — would the Witch Pure Party deliberately catalyze that child’s situation to obtain an Obscurial?”

Abigail turned around, facing Braun directly and asked bluntly: ”So, would you?”

”Of course not.” Braun said leisurely, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, ”You know, this isn’t the first time we’ve encountered such a situation, the previous potential Obscurial has already been cured, and this one won’t be an exception.”

Abigail didn’t wholly believe it but felt slightly relieved.

She subconsciously didn’t want to imagine the possibility of Braun deceiving her.

But Braun didn’t let her off, mockingly asked: ”Why? You care about these children?”

”Can’t I care?” Abigail retorted.

”You can, of course,” Braun nodded first, then said: ”But they... how are they different from Carrel?”

Abigail utterly puzzled: ”Carrel?”

Why mention that child long deceased?

”Yes, you remember him, right?” Braun said: ”Among the Scourers interrogated by the Magic Congress, someone mentioned that child, saying he was taken away from the training base and never returned.”

”Yes.” A flash of pain crossed Abigail’s face: ”He was killed by people from Hogwarts... or the British Ministry of Magic!”

”Ha!”

Braun let out a clear sneer.

Abigail angrily: ”Is it funny?”

”I really don’t understand, dear Serra.” Braun said leisurely, ”You seem smart, but sometimes you appear so stupid?”

Abigail suppressed her anger, gritting her teeth: ”What do you mean?”

”Look at our approach... Abigail, we are the Witch Pure Party!”

Braun stared into the eyes of the person opposite, said:

”Even we don’t randomly target children representing the future of the Magic World, what makes you think — Dumbledore, the famously kind White Wizard, and the British Ministry of Magic, would kill an enchanted child?”

Abigail was stunned.

She felt as if woken from a dream, suddenly losing all expression on her face, hands tightly clenched at her sides, nails piercing into her palms, knuckles turning white due to excessive force, even shaking slightly.

Her entire being trembled, yet unable to stop Braun’s voice, like a demon whisper, from entering her ears:

”To be honest, even Mr. Grindelwald, or Voldemort... when caught and powerless to resist, the British Ministry of Magic would only sentence them to life imprisonment, throwing them into Azkaban, they don’t kill... well, they try not to.”

”The real murderer of Carrel was you all!”

He paused, continued:

”It was you Scourers and the destiny you assigned him!”

”That child was originally not a Vampire, he was a promising Wizard! He could have studied and grown normally at Hogwarts. Didn’t need to become a murder tool, nor have his family destroyed!”

”But your people took him away from his parents, altered his memory, conducted experiments on him like Prometheus, turning him into a non-human monster!”

”After successfully transforming him into a Vampire, Assassin, Tool, you then threw him out... into a place where he could have lived normally, letting him see firsthand the fate of others his age drastically different from his, inciting his inner anger and hatred!”

”You let him fight Vid, but what was on Carrel’s mind? It was the fate trajectory he missed, it was the parents he couldn’t face!”

”So after failing the mission... he chose to kill himself in exchange for his mother’s life... this was the reason for his death.”

Finally receiving the long-awaited answer, Abigail felt no relief whatsoever, instead seeming struck by an invisible heavy hammer, stiffening in place, even her breathing halted.

She felt cold... her whole body was extremely cold, as if her blood had frozen... her teeth chattered uncontrollably, her voice also became shaky:

”Carrel... was he originally... originally not a Vampire?”

”No.” The joking smile disappeared from Braun’s face, he said expressionlessly: ”He was a Muggle-born Wizard, and Vid Gray’s childhood playmate, which should be the reason why Scourers chose to use him.”

Abigail asked tremblingly: ”What about his parents... what happened to his parents? Weren’t his parents...”

Braun frowned: ”Landon Johnson and Annie Johnson — those are his biological parents, in the community where he grew up, the Muggle School he attended, there are records.”

Abigail’s face turned colorless, suddenly speechless.

Braun asked in surprise: ”Abigail, are you really a core member of the Scourers? How do you know nothing?”

Before finishing the sentence, he seemed to think of something, suddenly realizing:

”Carrel’s memory was altered... could it be yours as well?”

”–Serra Abigail, do the memories and thoughts in your mind truly belong to you?”