Chapter 1307: A Cross-Century Magical Speech (Part 2)
Hogsmeade Village, upstairs guest room of the Hog's Head Inn.
"Bloody hell, when did you pick up the habit of listening to the radio in your room?"
The innkeeper grumbled as he pushed open the door, placing a plate of dark brown mushy food on the guest room table.
Next to the table, Albus Dumbledore, who had been missing for days, was holding a magical radio, listening intently.
There's an old saying in the Far East: "The most dangerous place is the safest place."
Since Elena moved the Destiny Group's research and development base to Hogsmeade Village, the safety factor here has skyrocketed.
Apart from Hogwarts Castle, the City of Succubi, and the Quibbler headquarters, Hogsmeade Village is arguably one of the safest places in the world today.
Most importantly, it's the only place in the UK where he can evade the omnipresent eyes of the Destiny Group and Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
Elena had issued a high bounty internally to "capture" him, and Dumbledore wasn't quite ready to integrate into the non-magical world yet.
After much deliberation, the Hog's Head Pub in Hogsmeade Village became the only place he could hide – even though the owner here wasn't exactly welcoming him.
"Oh, I only picked it up recently – well, about the same time I developed angina."
Dumbledore smiled wryly, put down the magical radio, and said softly.
"Why aren't you downstairs tending to customers? I thought you'd be curious—"
"Was that you who made all that racket? That Lockhart bloke."
"No. I don't fancy another punch in the nose."
Dumbledore said gently, pointing to the crooked bridge of his nose behind his spectacles.
"Aberforth, you know me, I won't make the same mistake twice..."
"Eat your food and get out –"
The owner of the Hog's Head Pub, or rather, Aberforth Dumbledore, frowned and interrupted rudely.
"I've never really understood you, Albus."
"In fact, I don't even know what you're trying to do anymore..."
He glanced at the magical radio on the table and snorted derisively.
"I heard the goblins at Gringotts are looking for you on the black market. If you're still hanging around here messing with these broken contraptions tonight—"
"I'll be leaving in a bit, brother."
Dumbledore said softly, focused on the magical radio.
Lockhart's voice floated clearly from inside, echoing in the small guest room.
"...some people hope that certain people will be satisfied as long as they have some small privileges..."
"...on the road to fighting for freedom, we must not take the wrong path, we must not, in order to satisfy the desire for freedom..."
"...we must always behave appropriately and be disciplined in our struggle, and not let our protests and struggles with new hope degenerate into violent actions. As the most brilliant gem of human civilization, we must constantly sublimate to the noble realm of using spiritual power to fight against material power..."
Those voices floated out of the magical radio, touching the edge of the room as if they had touched something, and disappeared silently into the walls.
If Aberforth took two steps back out of this room, he probably wouldn't hear half a sentence.
"Don't cast spells in my pub's guest room—"
Aberforth frowned again, looking at his brother with displeasure.
However, before Dumbledore could explain, the voice in the magical radio suddenly became high-pitched.
"...when we act, we must ensure that we move forward. We cannot retreat!"
"You may think I am exaggerating, thinking that perhaps the Ministry of Magic will make some concessions, and we can be satisfied."
"No, absolutely not—"
"As long as free spellcasting is still suffering from the tyranny and barbarism of the Statute of Secrecy, we will never be satisfied!"
"As long as our weary bodies traveling outside cannot legally enter Muggle city hotels and motels, we will never be satisfied!"
"As long as the basic activity range of wizards is still limited to small streets supported by a few magic shops, and transferred to slightly larger streets, we will never be satisfied!"
"No! We are not satisfied now, and we will not be satisfied in the future—"
"Unless justice and freedom are like the waves of the river and the sea, surging and rolling in."
"Wizards and magic should not be a disgrace to be hated and carefully hidden, nor should it be a crown to be cherished. This is a gift from the world to this wonderful race of mankind. It should bloom generously and proudly in the sun. We should not let magic become the shackles that bind our freedom – it should be the wings that lead us to a wider world and a better life. The suffering we endure is not our talent, but a man-made restriction."
"If someone uses this as a reason for persecution, then let the law punish them. If the law cannot punish them, then revise more complete laws..."
Lockhart's voice echoed in the small guest room, the wooden planks on the ceiling made a buzzing sound, and dust fell rustlingly.
Aberforth Dumbledore turned his head, looking at the radio thoughtfully, with a strange gleam in his eyes.
"What the hell is this guy—"
"Oh, look, I'm not the one casting the spell. Aberforth."
Dumbledore said gently, his blue eyes looking at the small radio on the table.
Elena and Lockhart answered the riddle that had troubled him and Grindelwald:
Why did the new era they both hoped to build fail?
"Magic is the power to create beauty. Its only mission is to make our lives better—"
"Let us go back to London, back to Manchester, back to Belfast, back to Nottingham, back to those remote villages where we live and the wizarding communities monitored by the Ministry of Magic. We must remember one thing, people should never, and will never, be permanently divided because of your birth."
"Everything can and will be changed. False shackles cannot bind free thought. We must not fall into despair and be unable to extricate ourselves..."
Listening to Lockhart's clear and impassioned speech, a helpless and relieved smile appeared on the corner of Dumbledore's mouth.
As wizards, they had always forgotten to explore why magic was born in the first place.
…………
Hogwarts, Quidditch Pitch.
Now, everyone was silent.
Aurors and wizards from the International Confederation of Wizards stood ready.
Lockhart was surrounded, with nearly a hundred wands pointed at him.
An amber barrier began to flicker faintly in the air, signaling the imminent disappearance of magic.
At the same time, Lockhart's speech seemed to be finally coming to an end.
"Friends, today I say to you..."
Lockhart ignored the Aurors around him.
He looked up at the faces above, surprised, mocking, silent, but more often confused...
As Elena said, his speech was just a spark, and only time would turn it into a prairie fire.
However, in any case, with the "assistance" of the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards, he succeeded.
Lockhart straightened his back, opened his arms, and showed his signature bright smile.
"Now, and in the future, we may encounter all kinds of difficulties and setbacks, but I still have a dream."
"This dream is deeply rooted in the dream of magic."
"I have a dream that one day, the magical society can realize the true meaning of magic: we hold these truths to be self-evident – that all men are created equal."
"I have a dream that one day, in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the children of wizards will be able to sit side by side with the children of Muggles and share fraternal love."
"I have a dream that one day, even the International Confederation of Wizards, a place where freedom disappears, will nurture fertile ground for freedom and magic."
"I have a dream that one day, all my enemies, friends, students, and children can live in a society that judges them not by their bloodline or talent, but by the merits of their character. I hope that one day we will no longer divide people into three, six, or nine classes according to their origin, and all children can move forward hand in hand."
"I have a dream—"
The amber light flickered in the air.
It bloomed with thin, dreamy iridescence like a soap bubble in the sun.
Then, it broke apart silently.
"Don't be impulsive—"
"Arrest him!"
"Stupefy!"
"Protego."
Accompanied by the chaotic shouts of Madam Bones, Cornfoot, Dorris, Kingsley, and others.
Dozens of dazzling beams of magic pierced the shattered amber fragments, hitting Lockhart's defenseless body.
…………
"It's over, let the gentlemen from the Ministry of Magic handle the rest."
In the box above the Quidditch stands, Elena withdrew her gaze from below.
Lockhart would have to suffer a bit in the days to come, but there was no other way.
After all, Azkaban Wizarding Prison wasn't so easy to endure, but when the counterattack began, all these hardships would become his resume.
Of course, the scene looked chaotic, but in reality, Lockhart's life wasn't in danger.
Kingsley and others could ensure that Lockhart was healthy and smuggled a wand into his Azkaban cell.
That guarantee was enough. Moreover, timely unconsciousness saved Lockhart many unnecessary risks.
As for the other Aurors, officials from the International Confederation of Wizards, and gentlemen from the Wizengamot court, they would have to face a barrage of questions from reporters pouring into the venue – Hogwarts prohibited Apparition, and they had to answer all the questions on the spot.
On the other hand, as Lockhart's speech spread, the plans that the Major Arcana had been brewing for a long time could be launched.
Elena called it... the Advent of Magic.
————
————
Yay, it's coming to an end~~