Chapter 249 Grindelwald (I)
Gellert Grindelwald has been imprisoned in Nurmengard for fifty years.
It would be more accurate to say that he is imprisoned rather than being imprisoned.
The conditions here are worse than in any other prison:
There was only a stone bed with a thin blanket on it in the small cell; the window was a very narrow gap that no one could get through; it was dark and gloomy everywhere, even though the sun was bright outside.
His body was just a layer of flesh covering a skeleton. There was no mirror here, so he didn't know what he looked like. But he could feel his arms and legs, which were as skinny as branches, his eye sockets and cheeks, which were sunken, and his teeth had all fallen out. He was probably not much different from a dead person.
Sometimes in the darkness, he would wonder whether he was still alive or dead.
But he no longer cared about life or death, nor did he care whether he was in the palace or in prison.
I spent half my life fighting for what I believed to be truth and justice. Everything seemed to be within reach, but in the end, everything was reduced to ashes.
The ideal of overthrowing the old order through war and establishing a new order in which wizards rule over Muggles has been completely destroyed.
It was not until after the last battle that he suddenly realized——
What you think is truth is not truth, and what you think is justice is not justice.
He could only slowly repair his polluted soul through the pain of the collapse of his ideals and his confession to the dead.
The pain nearly destroyed his body.
Fifty years seemed like a very long time, but also like just a moment.
He savored and savoured the pitiful memories of the past bit by bit...
The high spirits of like-minded people, the fear and anger that cannot be faced, the joy that soars to the sky and the disappointment that falls from the clouds...
Some numb, dull pain enveloped his slowly beating heart again.
It's not that he didn't think about looking forward, his body still had some predictive ability left, but that would only bring more pain.
The occasional images of the future flashed before his eyes, but they reappeared in his mind again and again like drinking poison to quench thirst——
The spire of Hogwarts Castle... the clinking of glasses in the Great Hall... the old man like him in the staff seats...
He raised his glass with a smile, but he curled up in the blanket in pain.
He also foresaw his own death.
One person...it is most likely Voldemort, who successfully broke the long-silent Nurmengard.
He guessed that he would press him for the whereabouts of the Deathly Hallows, just as those ignorant people had tried to track him down and extract secrets from him.
But he knew that Voldemort could not win. He was just a clown, an ant going against the tide of the times.
As for himself - he never feared death, he welcomed death, it was a relief after fifty years.
This day has finally come.
Curled up under a thin blanket on the stone bed, he smiled disdainfully.
He knew what kind of torture he was about to suffer - but he would never reveal even a single secret. That might be... his final compensation.
He closed his eyes peacefully, and heard the crackling sound of the castle bricks falling. The whole tower was shaking. The coldness of the Alps was gradually replaced by high temperatures, as hot as a fire dragon breathing fire, and of course its roar...
Wait, the dragon is breathing fire?
The roar of a fire dragon?
Is this what was predicted?
This was his last thought before he was knocked away by a dragon and fell into a coma with only time to condense an armor spell.
——The prophecy can actually be a lie!
——Why didn’t you say earlier that it was a dragon that destroyed Nurmengard!
......
Grindelwald felt pain unconsciously while in coma. He guessed that his bones were broken by the dragon. After all, there was not much muscle and fat left in his body, only a bunch of brittle bones.
He closed his eyes tightly, and the world before him was dark.
But strange sounds gradually came from the darkness, and something was bubbling and boiling.
A pair of hands were piecing together his bones, and now seemed to be aligning his shin bones. It was crooked - then pulled apart - then put back together - then the fingers - this time they were finally straightened - this made him feel anxious, and he almost wanted to ask if he could do a puzzle.
Then there was a "swish" sound, the potion was poured onto the wound, and his broken bones began to grow and fit together - the pain was so severe that he wanted to curse out loud.
This dark wizard's potion is so poisonous!
A strange smell entered his nose, and his mouth was forcibly pried open by a spoon. A liquid that tasted like raw, stinky socks flowed into his mouth, poisoning his taste buds and causing him to vomit uncontrollably.
A long-lost anger surged in his heart.
This taste...yue...I might as well kill him! yue!
Who is it? Is it possible to brew a magic potion into such a flavor that shocks the world and makes ghosts cry?
He clenched his teeth tightly, refusing to let even a drop of the potion enter his mouth.
But unfortunately, he had no wand and was semi-conscious. His tightly clenched teeth were forced open as the force loosened. A large chocolate frog was stuffed into his mouth and started dancing, causing his face to twitch uncontrollably.
Which family raised this dark wizard?
Do you actually understand the principle of giving a red date after a beating?
This must be the enemy's sugar-coated bullet!
This is really looking down on him!
As a leader of the wizarding party and a revolutionary, he would never be like Albus Dumbledore - swayed by such sweets!
Grindelwald angrily melted the chocolate in his mouth and swallowed the sweetness unconsciously.
It seemed that his undernourished body was far more honest than his brain and mind.
But he soon becomes even angrier when a hairy animal crawls onto his face.
He could feel a heaviness on his cheeks and chest, a long duck-like nose nudging his face, and four little paws constantly scratching his body.
With his experience, he understood what it was almost instantly, a damn little thief - Niffler!
It’s the fire dragon again...and the Niffler...Now he finally understands who is controlling them!
That was definitely not a Dark wizard - but a Magizoologist who had ruined his plans many times!
It's damnable that he still has to use magical animals to disturb his peace at such an old age!
Compared to this man, he would rather go face to face with Voldemort and deliver wave after wave of ridicule and contempt!
Some extremely unpleasant memories of rare items being stolen fermented in his brain. He was so angry that he could not help but summon all his willpower to open his eyes and shouted with all his strength:
"Scamander!"
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