Chapter 239: Infiltration

When Harry found Dumbledore, it was already three days later. Although the headmaster was nominally in charge of organizing the Triwizard Tournament, just as Harry occasionally slipped away to Gilmern to play with Sirius and Lupin, Dumbledore also frequently vanished to other places to arrange the Order's operations—he was very busy, largely thanks to the convenience of Apparition.

"Newt? No, I don't think bringing him into this is a good idea," Dumbledore said, frowning. "What concerns me most right now is the Horcruxes. I've prepared to die alongside him, but if the Horcruxes still exist, all of it will be meaningless."

"We could lock him up and search for the Horcruxes slowly. Has the doctor told you about the Stasis Charm?" Harry suggested.

"Of course I know," Dumbledore said. "Ollivander calculated it's feasible—he told me not to worry. But Harry, have you considered that the Temporal Matrix only activates when your twin wand cores trigger a Priori Incantatem? In other words, if he doesn't point his yew-and-phoenix-feather wand at you, you can't unleash the Temporal Matrix's power."

"But that should be obvious," Harry reasoned. "He fears your Elder Wand, so he'll use that laser wand to trick it—his other hand must be holding his usual yew wand to deal with me."

"No, Harry. Battlefields change in an instant; things won't be as simple as you imagine," Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "But one thing is certain: from your diary, I suspect Voldemort already knows he has a fragment of his soul inside you. Your safety is guaranteed—he won't deliberately kill you. He might even protect you."

Harry frowned, but quickly thought of another plan: "The Dream Realm—Zhang Qiu can teleport you and him into the afterlife, where all magic fails, but the Elder Wand still works."

"No, Harry," Dumbledore shook his head. "You can appear at the battlefield because you're the decoy, and we know Voldemort won't deliberately harm you. But Zhang Qiu—when Voldemort sees her preparing a spell, he'll try to kill her immediately."

"She can wear my Invisibility Cloak and hide safely in a corner," Harry proposed.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "Ge Xuan told me Zhang Qiu must not be harmed. That would be a serious diplomatic incident—we can't risk it."

"But think—if we succeed, we can trap Voldemort in the afterlife. His soul will never escape the Dream Realm. We can retreat unharmed—you can have someone trustworthy hold the Resurrection Stone to bring us back."

"You can't think like this, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You must start from the worst-case scenario."

"If we don't involve Zhang Qiu, what's the worst that could happen? I won't die in battle—the worst is letting Voldemort escape, wasting this year's effort—but it won't get worse. He still fears me; we still have time, opportunity, hope." Dumbledore spoke calmly. "But if Zhang Qiu dies in battle, Ge Xuan will hold me responsible. If I die, he'll hold you responsible. And Voldemort, who kills her, won't escape either—he'll turn hostile toward the entire British wizarding world. We can't afford that."

"Then Voldemort knows this too, so he won't dare touch Zhang Qiu," Harry said.

"But if Zhang Qiu stands beside him chanting a spell, he won't care," Dumbledore looked at Harry seriously. "You don't understand—Ge Xuan is far stronger than we are. He has the power to overturn the table."

"What do you mean?" Harry was confused.

"The Prince of Heaven bound himself to the fate of the nation through a ritual. He cannot leave the territory of Tianchao, but within its borders, he is invincible," Dumbledore said. "If he begins recklessly expanding his territory, we'll have no way to stop him."

"He wouldn't do that, would he? After all, he's only one man," Harry asked.

"Correct. But he doesn't do it not because he can't—he does it because he finds it troublesome," Dumbledore sighed. "He's already quite reasonable. Zhang Qiu is a line he's mentioned repeatedly—he won't tolerate us deliberately crossing it."

"Alright, then we remove Zhang Qiu from the plan and rely on the Temporal Matrix," Harry took a deep breath. "Can you ensure he points his yew wand at me? Even just one spell. One chance."

Dumbledore fell silent for a long time, then finally spoke: "I'll try. Remember to nap these next few days."

Harry nodded, bit his lip, and left.

Actually, since the term began, Harry had tried napping before—but for some reason, he hadn't reconnected with Voldemort's vision. He suspected Voldemort had developed a habit of napping too, so he no longer saw those visions at noon. Aside from occasional glimpses of Voldemort's outbursts triggered by his emotional fluctuations, Harry no longer deliberately used sleep to spy on Voldemort's secrets.

That noon, Harry finished lunch early, then lay on his bed trying to fall asleep—but when he woke, he saw nothing. Yet the next day, when Harry slipped into sleep, that familiar scene appeared before him once more.

At the long table, no one else was present—only Voldemort and Snape. Harry saw him wearing a hooded robe, the hood pulled back to reveal his greasy hair.

"Why have you come to me? Has Dumbledore finalized his plan?" Voldemort spoke calmly, his tone unreadable.

"Only a rough outline," Snape said. "He originally intended to seek help from Tianchao, but after my persuasion, the Prince of Heaven forbade him from involving Zhang Qiu in the battle. Without those strange secret spells, you'll have a much better chance."

"Indeed, that spell is alarming. A mere girl, merely speaking, replicated the effect of the Deathly Hallows," Voldemort's tone was relaxed. "No need to worry about her—it becomes much easier."

"Speaking of the Hallows, you may already know—the Elder Wand is in Dumbledore's hands," Snape said respectfully.

"You've brought me shocking news, Severus," Voldemort shifted his posture. "I didn't know this. You've done great service—you deserve a reward."

"This worries me deeply, Master," Snape acted the part of a loyal minister truly concerned for Voldemort. "How do we counter the unbeatable Elder Wand?"

"Ha, Severus, you've been deceived," Harry felt Voldemort's smug pride. "The Elder Wand isn't unbeatable—otherwise, why has every owner been killed?"

"In truth, the Elder Wand enhances spell power—spells cast with it always win in direct duels," Voldemort said proudly. "But a truly powerful wizard doesn't rely on spell duels. I'll use every spell—Dark Arts, Transfiguration—to force Dumbledore into exhaustion, then suddenly pull out Bondarev's metal wand and strike him with two spells at once."

"Dumbledore can only dispel one spell with the Elder Wand—the other will kill him," Voldemort was pleased with his plan. "He's accustomed to traditional duels, to every wizard wielding only one wand. He'll assume all my power lies in this old stick. Ha—he'll pay for his decay and rigidity."

Harry's heart sank—how could he ever have a chance to duel Voldemort now?

"Excellent plan, Severus. Dumbledore still thinks the Elder Wand is his trump card," Voldemort laughed. "But have you found out how he plans to ambush me?"

"They've chosen Tranzerro, a small town in northern France. It has an Anti-Apparition ward—perhaps Dumbledore intends to hide near the endpoint using invisibility," Snape said.

"Not entirely foolish," Voldemort sneered. "But I have many ways around it."

"They've likely prepared for a full-scale battle, since Tranzerro is abandoned and uninhabited," Snape reminded him. "They also plan to turn the Goblet into a Portkey to send Harry and other innocent students away."

"Ah, you're right—I don't want to be surrounded by a dozen wands," Voldemort nodded. "We need to give those doctors and the Order something else to worry about."

"By the way, you must request reinforcements before the Hogwarts battle," Voldemort suddenly had an idea. "Once you confirm they've arrived on the battlefield, use the Dark Mark to alert me—I'll begin my move."

"Then I shall congratulate you in advance, Master," Snape knelt on one knee, his expression hidden beneath his greasy hair.

"And you, Severus—will you mourn Dumbledore's death?" Voldemort asked, emotionless.

"You promised me the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts—that honors me deeply," Snape seemed eager to bargain for reward. "I've long wished for that old fool to die."

"Excellent, Severus. Excellent," Voldemort laughed. "Dumbledore will never understand—love, friendship, ideals—all are lies. Only interest is real."

"Let him take his ignorance to the grave." As Voldemort's laughter echoed, Harry's scar burned fiercely—he gasped and opened his eyes.