Chapter 279: Fall from the Pedestal

"So what?" Bellatrix asked lazily, "It's not like Dumbledore is the only one with that surname."

"We can nudge the public to wonder whether Aurelius might be Dumbledore's illegitimate son," William said. "The records are vague about him, but we can investigate, gather—or fabricate—plausible evidence."

"Then it's settled," Lucius concluded. "We can now devote some time and effort to investigating this man named Aurelius."

"Before his true identity was revealed, Aurelius used the name Credence Barebone," William added. "He was the Obscurial who nearly destroyed New York."

"Your intelligence is excellent," Lucius said with a smug smile. "That means Dumbledore likely has a cruel, ruthless illegitimate son—how can he still claim to be righteous?"

"Correct one thing," Sirius said, dissatisfied. "He never claimed to be righteous—he simply opposed the Dark Lord."

"Yes, it's the fools in the Order who claim righteousness," Bellatrix agreed—but clearly, she wasn't on the same wavelength as her cousin.

"And we will utterly expose their lies about righteousness," Lucius raised his cup triumphantly, bringing the most sophisticated part of this Death Eater gathering to a close.

Before they began discussing their sordid business rivalries, Harry and Sirius made an excuse to leave. In truth, even if they hadn't planned to hear this, Harry's Polyjuice Potion was likely about to expire.

"I'm worried," Sirius said deeply after returning to the private office. "Their plan seems feasible—and worse, I don't know this Aurelius at all. Dumbledore never mentioned him to us."

"He might not exist at all," Harry said warily.

"I mean, if even I have doubts about Aurelius's identity, what will the public think when they don't know the truth?" Sirius said seriously. "And with the Magical Congress meddling, things will turn disastrous."

"Then we'd better act quickly," Harry thought. "Find out Aurelius's identity first and prepare our countermove? No—that won't work. Whoever he is, if anyone uncovers even a hint of gossip or speculation, Dumbledore will immediately fall from his pedestal."

"But if that's true, Dumbledore losing his sanctity seems inevitable," Sirius said, troubled. "Should we ask members of the Order if they can think of a clever solution?"

"Perhaps we should change our approach," Harry quickly recalled Stalin's story. "Great men aren't infallible. What we must do is help people clearly and objectively understand the causes and process of his mistakes—and the efforts he made to correct them. Then Dumbledore won't be hated—he'll become more relatable."

"Perhaps from the start, he was just an ordinary wizard, like you and me, who rose to oppose Voldemort," Harry's thoughts began to form. "Only later did his power lead to excessive glorification. If we can bring Dumbledore's image back from a flawless saint to an ordinary person like everyone else, it becomes more inspiring: each of us can practice justice as Dumbledore did. Each of us can be the next Dumbledore."

"You're right," Sirius agreed. "I remember a Muggle saying that fits perfectly—we need to let Dumbledore's reputation land softly. I'll tell Dawlish about this idea. I think he should start writing memoirs about Dumbledore's student days—that would make a perfect foundation."

"Ah, yes," Harry nodded. "While Dawlish is laying the groundwork and buying us time, we can thoroughly investigate Aurelius. In fact, I suspect he's Albus's brother's son."

Harry didn't mention overhearing Albus's conversation, but from another angle: if Albus never married because he was deeply absorbed in magical research, perhaps Aberforth's weaker magic stemmed from having once been married.

"That makes sense. I'll take you back now," Sirius said. "Have you finished your homework?"

"Uh, almost," Harry evaded. In truth, he was far from done.

Back at school, Harry quickly greeted Ron and immediately spread out his homework, diving straight into it.

Compared to moonstone or summoning charms, Harry thought he could first copy notes on the Giant War or fake his essay on Muggle protection—both required little thought.

After dinner, as he prepared to continue working in the library, Cho Chang came over and sat beside him, handing him a piece of parchment.

"What's this…" Harry took it and glanced at the title: "The Harry Potter I Know?"

"Who wrote this?" Harry scanned the sentences—they were detailed and revealed nothing he wished to hide.

"Cassandra," Cho shrugged. "I spent the whole afternoon in Hogsmeade. She wrote this for me. You know—her only way to understand you is through newspapers."

"She's in Hogsmeade?" Harry asked instinctively.

"We set up a magical photography studio for her and assigned Aurors to protect her," Cho said. "Didn't you know? Or were you not around then?"

Harry suddenly remembered: in third year, Cho had exposed a secret in front of Cassandra—that Donald was Cui Ge's biological father. That act was meant to control Donald, especially after they uncovered his true intentions. Harry could imagine Cassandra immediately becoming a leverage point the Celestial Empire used against Donald.

"You…" Harry hesitated. "What else did you do?"

"Nothing," Cho said cheerfully. "I just took a few photos while she was writing her essay." Then her expression turned mischievous. "Or… do you think I could have done more?"

"But Donald hasn't done anything lately—he's been idle," Cho adjusted her scarf. "I can't blackmail him with this. The best sword is the one still in its sheath."

"I see," Harry sighed in relief—then remembered something: Donald had close ties to the Magical Congress. Though his behavior in fourth year seemed disconnected from the Congress's current strategy, his links to several White House agents in second year were undeniable.

In a way, Harry found the Magical Congress's strategy not hard to understand—they weren't focused on the Order or Death Eaters, but simply aiding Britain. In fourth year, eliminating Voldemort seemed feasible, so they sent Donald to help Harry. Now, Voldemort had become Britain's only hope for restoring deterrence, so William moved into action while Donald fell silent.

Was there internal power struggle within the Magical Congress? Harry didn't know. But one thing was certain: since Donald was idle and likely on his side, perhaps he could be asked for a favor. After all, the name Aurelius still existed in the Magical Congress's archives.

"I mean, I happen to have a favor to ask of Donald," Harry said carefully. "It might affect the Magical Congress's strategy."

"As long as it serves your interests, the Magical Congress is stronger than you think," Cho said dismissively.

"Alright, I want him to look into someone—Aurelius Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Is there such a person?" Cho was clearly startled—she'd never encountered the name in her divinations. "Alright, how do you spell it?"

"I heard it from someone else—I'm not sure," Harry said. "But he also went by the name Credence—he supposedly caused massive destruction in New York."

"That's concerning," Cho mused. "The Magical Congress might be covering up his existence. Then I'll tell Donald myself. With Cassandra in the picture, he'll understand this is a request he can't refuse."

"He's probably dead already—so it's not that sensitive," Harry scratched his head. "It might not even be hard for him."

"Alright, I'll remember. By the way, Cassandra's handwriting doesn't match yours—you'd better copy out that essay," Cho said. "Change every 'he' to 'I,' and every 'Cui Ge' to 'a classmate.'"

"Fine, but I need to finish this essay on summoning charms first," Harry flipped through the parchment on his desk. "Half a page left."

His quill had barely touched the parchment, writing only a few lines, when a clear female voice interrupted him.

"Harry, I remind you—the Torchwood meeting is about to start," Ivy said.

"Yes, in ten minutes. Want to go together?" Ginny asked eagerly.

Harry looked at his homework, then at the two carefree girls, hesitated, then gritted his teeth, rolled up the parchment, and followed them.

This was the first time he chose to catch up on homework during a club meeting. It might not be the last.