Chapter 26: Peeking into the Future
Should I call you Bobby Graham?
Or should I still call you Hydras Lestrange?
At that moment, Dumbledore's brilliance was fully revealed.
He did not suppress Hydras with force, nor did he release any overt magic—
and yet, the air itself seemed to grow unbearably heavy.
So this is it…
The presence of a wizard at the very pinnacle of the world?
Hydras abandoned her human disguise.
Her skin took on a faint green sheen, her pupils narrowed into vertical slits, and curved dragon horns pushed through her forehead.
"I truly don't know how you managed it, Miss Lestrange," Dumbledore said, admiration clear in his voice.
"But this transformation is extraordinary."
"Hydras the dragon—the nightmare of Knockturn Alley.
If this were Hogwarts, I would certainly award you extra points."
Hydras didn't reply.
Instead, she bolted.
She burst out of the villa in a single motion.
Empowered by a fire dragon's physique, her speed was terrifying.
Her mind held only one thought:
Run.
She hadn't forgotten—she was still a wanted criminal in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic.
She shot across the open lawn, pushing her speed to its absolute limit, leaving only an afterimage behind.
—Though she hadn't practised spellcasting in five years, her constant habit of reinforcing her body with magic had elevated her physical strength to an absurd level.
If she were classified as a magical creature, the Ministry would rate her XXXXX on physical ability alone.
Unfortunately for her—
In Dumbledore's eyes, even an adult dragon was little more than an overgrown animal.
This was the power of the strongest white wizard alive.
Suddenly, colossal stone walls erupted from the ground, sealing her in from every direction.
Hydras kicked off the earth and launched herself upward.
But Dumbledore was faster.
Thud!
She smashed headfirst into an invisible ceiling.
Her vision swam.
What kind of spell is this—Transfiguration or Conjuration? Why is it this hard?!
She dropped back to the ground.
The enormous enclosed "box" had been pitch black, but in the next instant, it flooded with light.
Dumbledore calmly Transfigured over a dozen antique wall lamps into existence.
He even took the time to adjust their patterns—adding decorative flourishes.
With a soft crack, Dumbledore Apparated inside.
"I can't let you leave like this, Miss Lestrange," he said cheerfully.
"A first-year being frightened away by the Headmaster during a home visit? I'd never hear the end of it."
"What do you actually want, Headmaster?" Hydras snapped.
"My being wanted was a fabrication by the Grey family—I'm innocent!"
"I'm merely ensuring that new students arrive at Hogwarts on time," Dumbledore replied mildly.
And after Sorting, Hydras thought bitterly,
will you send me straight to Azkaban?
Her bloodline wouldn't survive scrutiny.
On the surface, she was a Lestrange.
In truth… Voldemort had murdered someone.
She didn't believe for a second that the so-called White Demon King would simply let her go.
Hydras inhaled sharply.
Then she unleashed a torrent of dragonfire.
The blazing pillar roared straight toward Dumbledore.
He Apparated aside effortlessly—
—but Hydras' eyes never left him.
The flames tore into the stone barrier behind him.
Only then did Dumbledore understand.
The dragonfire burned cleanly through the wall—
without a single flame escaping beyond it.
"Extraordinary control," Dumbledore applauded.
"To burn stone without harming the surrounding area."
"Afraid of damaging Muggle property?" Hydras sneered.
His casual tone only deepened her frustration.
Still—she had to escape.
She shot forward, aiming for the breach.
Dumbledore flicked his wand. Thick vines burst from the ground, lunging toward her—
—but she dodged every single one.
That speed.
That agility.
In a single second, she reached the opening.
Half her body was already outside the enclosure.
Just get out first.
Then I take off.
She'd miscalculated earlier—she should have flown immediately.
She'd never heard of Dumbledore excelling in aerial combat.
But—
The walls of the hole suddenly contracted.
They clamped shut around her.
…
This was painfully awkward.
Dumbledore Apparated beside her.
At that moment, her upper body was quite literally stuck in the wall.
Hydras dismissed her dragon form.
"Fine. You win," she said flatly.
"Send me to the Ministry. Or straight to Azkaban. Your choice."
Dumbledore merely smiled.
Sweat began to bead on Hydras' forehead.
Her house-elf–style Apparition—her greatest trump card—was unusable.
Dumbledore laughed.
"Trying to distract me so you can escape once I lower my guard?"
"You're clever, child. When you evaded the Ministry, you used a form of Apparition that ignores anti-Apparition wards. I suspected then that you'd learned how house-elves travel."
"If you can borrow the abilities of a fire dragon, it follows that you might borrow others as well."
"I prepared accordingly."
He sounded almost cheerful.
"Hogwarts has many house-elves, you see. Finding one willing to assist my research was not difficult."
"Especially one named Momo."
—
—
Should I call you Bobby Graham?
Or should I still call you Hydras Lestrange?
Hydras transformed and fled in one seamless motion.
This time, she took to the air immediately after exiting the villa.
This time, nothing can stop me.
A binding spell shot toward her.
She dodged—
—and suddenly felt a crushing weight.
Chains had wrapped around her ankles.
At the other ends hung two massive iron spheres.
Hydras stared in disbelief.
Her anklets—the ones she hadn't removed before the concert—
had been Transfigured into shackles.
Ahead of her, Dumbledore sat calmly on a flying carpet, beckoning.
—
—
Should I call you Bobby Graham?
Or should I still call you Hydras Lestrange?
Hydras bent down under Dumbledore's gaze and removed the anklet.
Then she transformed, fled, and took off in a single fluid motion.
She watched the air carefully—
Sure enough, it distorted.
Dumbledore appeared, a binding spell streaking toward her.
She dodged easily.
Now that I'm free, I can escape.
A flying carpet can't possibly outrun a fire dragon.
Thud!
Gravity slammed her down.
"—Ah!!"
She crashed onto the ground, cracking the concrete beneath her.
—
—
Should I call you Bobby Graham?
Or should I still call you Hydras Lestrange?
Hydras hesitated.
Then she removed the anklet and said politely,
"Headmaster Dumbledore, why aren't you having any tea?"
Dumbledore obligingly raised his cup and drank.
When he set it down—
Hydras had vanished.
"Ah," Dumbledore mused.
"The Demiguise's invisibility. You really do know many tricks, Miss Lestrange."
His eyes followed her movements unerringly.
Hydras: …
Of course.
He can see through the Invisibility Cloak—why wouldn't he see through a Demiguise?
—
—
Should I call you Bobby Graham?
Or should I still call you Hydras Lestrange?
Hydras sighed.
"Headmaster, please enjoy your tea."
He smiled and drank.
She vanished again.
"Hm?"
Dumbledore frowned slightly and scanned the room.
No matter how he looked—
Hydras was nowhere to be seen.
This ability dated back three years earlier, during the Astray siblings' tour in India.
A lost Occamy had attached itself to Hydras.
Granting her the creature's unique constitution.
Occamies could grow or shrink at will.
Their applications were endless.
She used this ability constantly—especially at night.
When reduced to her smallest size, less than a hundred Galleons were enough to sleep buried in coins—
And it wasn't even uncomfortable.
What could be better?
At this moment, Hydras had shrunk to her smallest form and was hiding beneath the sofa.
She planned to wait—
Then slip out unnoticed.
Tiny Hydras scurried to the other side.
When one shrinks, speed naturally decreases.
It took her over ten seconds to cross a single metre.
"I've found you."
Her eyelid twitched.
"I don't believe you."
"I truly have," Dumbledore said cheerfully.
"Little water snake."
(Hydras — also known as the Lesser Water Serpent.)
The old man seemed to be enjoying himself.
After teasing her a bit longer, he levitated the sofa.
"Come now, child. Return to your normal size. Otherwise, I'll need a magnifying glass to talk to you."
—
—
Hydras slumped back against the sofa, eyes closed.
Dumbledore sat opposite, quietly watching as her form flickered in and out of visibility.
She was horrified to realise—
He understood her far too well.
Did you start watching me five years ago…?
Cold sweat streamed down her face.
Even Dumbledore eventually sighed.
"Child, you're using a Demiguise's precognitive sight, aren't you?"
"Don't overuse it. It's bad for you."
Hydras opened her eyes.
There was no escape.
Not now.
But from the futures she'd glimpsed, she had learned several things.
First—
Momo was currently at Hogwarts.
Second—
Dumbledore harboured no real hostility toward her.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone to such lengths.
She couldn't escape the White Demon King.
At least—not yet.
So instead of wasting effort—
Why not talk properly?
She only wondered—
Did Hogwarts offer correspondence courses?