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"This is simply too brutal."
As Dumbledore stepped into the headmaster's office, the first thing he saw was a "headless" figure twisted into a grotesque position, limbs folded unnaturally. Nearby, on a cleared section of the floor, Harry had set up a makeshift operating table. A gleaming scalpel, its blade thin and sharp, sat on the table. Although primarily a Muggle tool, this precise instrument was also favored by potioneers accustomed to handling corpses and delicate materials.
Sometimes, manual dissection with tools was necessary. While magic offered convenience, it was restricted when handling rare or precious materials to avoid the risk of "contamination."
"I almost thought you'd blown her head to bits."
Dumbledore's lips twitched slightly as he spoke. "I expected you to handle this with a little more... dignity. This is hardly—"
"—gentlemanly?" Harry cut in, glancing at Dumbledore with a slight shrug. "I've already been quite elegant about it. At least there's no need to sweep chunks of flesh off the floor. Perhaps Hagrid could tell you how heavy my punches are nowadays."
"Well, perhaps a different word might suffice," Dumbledore said with a brief glance at Harry. Shaking his head, he added, "On second thought, never mind. At least it's not as bad as you made it sound."
Though Dumbledore had promised not to interfere in Harry's life, he still kept an eye on him. Harry bore too many similarities to Grindelwald in certain aspects, and as someone who knew the dangers firsthand, Dumbledore felt compelled to remain vigilant.
"Is this Cassandra?" Dumbledore ventured a guess. Without the head to identify her, he couldn't recognize everyone in Hogwarts, but the blood-streaked blonde hair gave him a clue. Among the young witches associated with Harry, a blonde of this age could only be Cassandra Malfoy.
"Or perhaps we should call her... Nagini."
Harry beckoned Dumbledore over. Once the older wizard stood behind him, Harry carefully removed the Invisibility Cloak draped over something on the makeshift rack. He flipped it to reveal its silvery, one-way transparency, exposing a pair of bloodshot, bright-yellow serpentine eyes.
"Perhaps I should ask you, Professor," Harry began, turning to observe Dumbledore. He noticed the old man involuntarily tense and shudder for a moment upon seeing the eyes. It was a natural human reaction to the proximity of death itself. "Should I remove her eyes? You must have noticed something unusual about them."
"Basilisk," Dumbledore replied without hesitation, instantly recognizing the source of those eyes. A mere gaze from them was enough to evoke the sensation of impending death—a trait that few creatures in the magical world possessed, the basilisk being one of the most likely culprits.
"I may have another solution," Dumbledore said, withdrawing his wand. "The basilisk's power comes from a curse, and the eyes act as its vessel. Removing them might work, but there's no guarantee you won't encounter some unexpected effects when touching the cursed vessel."
"Better safe than sorry." Harry set the scalpel aside and stepped back, making room for Dumbledore.
The shimmering barrel of a Desert Eagle pistol rested against Cassandra's limp body. Despite her immobile state, her body twitched slightly at the contact. Dumbledore frowned, gazing intently at the figure as though sensing something carefully.
After about half a minute, the yellow serpent-like eyes gained a faint tint of sky blue, their deathly aura receding into normalcy.
"Now we can rest assured," Dumbledore said, his tone softening. "She won't be able to use that power anymore."
"Oh, by the way, Harry," he added, "did you say her name was Nagini?"
The name struck a chord with Dumbledore. It sounded familiar, like a memory long buried. After a brief moment of contemplation, he recalled a witch he had met decades ago. She had come to Hogwarts with Newt Scamander and others, asking for his aid in stopping Grindelwald and preventing the destruction of Paris.
In truth, they hadn't needed to come. At the time, Grindelwald was unaware that Nicolas Flamel had taken up residence in Paris. Beauxbatons Academy was located in the Pyrenees, and Grindelwald believed the elusive alchemist would prefer the scenic solitude there rather than the smoky, industrial city of Paris.
Nevertheless, Dumbledore's involvement had a ripple effect. Flamel, who was infamous for his pettiness and vengeful streak, had chosen to stay out of the fray, content to watch the emotional drama between Dumbledore and Grindelwald. If Flamel had intervened, Grindelwald might have faced complete obliteration—or at least been suspended in the air for a thorough beating, followed by a series of experimental alchemical tests.
Even with Grindelwald's immense power, there would be no escape from Nicolas Flamel's infamous three-tiered assault: "lock the door," "release the hounds," and "release an entire pack of hounds." Within Flamel's sealed-off zone, no one could use Apparition or similar magic to leave, and even fleeing on a broomstick wouldn't outpace Flamel's alchemical army—an unparalleled force capable of single-handedly wiping out nations. Such power was unique in the world; even ten Death Eaters combined wouldn't be a match for one of its creations.
"Professor, do you know her?" Harry asked.
"I'm not entirely sure," Dumbledore replied, his brow furrowing slightly. "Those are definitely basilisk eyes. The Nagini I knew, however, was a Maledictus—cursed to transform into a snake. The death curse carried by a basilisk cannot simply transfer to a human. In ancient times, the more powerful a magic, the more stringent its limitations. This is precisely why many ancient magics have fallen out of use."
Dumbledore pulled the trigger on the Desert Eagle, and from the barrel, a multicolored flame morphed into a 3D projection of a woman. She was a strikingly beautiful witch with distinctly Asian features and jet-black hair. However, there was one curious detail: she always had her back turned to the viewer, a behavior that could be deemed impolite. This quirk alone created a stark contrast between her and Cassandra, explaining Dumbledore's initial uncertainty.
"If her name really is Nagini, then this is likely the person I'm thinking of," Dumbledore concluded, waving his wand to dismiss the projection.
"Though I had some interactions with her decades ago, we lost contact afterward. Newt, however, seemed to maintain a connection with her. Perhaps we could consult him," he suggested.
"But before that," Dumbledore added, his gaze shifting to Harry, "I believe you've come prepared, haven't you?"
"Of course," Harry replied, pulling a small vial from his chest bag. The glass bottle, no thicker than his thumb, contained barely a dozen drops of a clear, transparent potion. "Veritaserum is a wonderful thing. You never know when you might need it—it's always good to be prepared."
Harry stashed the Invisibility Cloak into his pocket and uncorked the vial. Carefully, he pried open Cassandra's mouth and used a dropper to administer three drops of the truth serum.
"Ugh—"
Despite being immobilized and gravely injured, the figure on the operating table convulsed faintly and let out a pitiful, dry retching sound.
(End of Chapter)