The wind howled with deep, muffled roars, carrying with it the bitter taste of ice and despair as it swept beneath the low, leaden clouds that hung like a funeral shroud across the sky.
These clouds pressed down upon the world with such oppressive weight that even the blanket of white snow that covered every visible surface for miles around could not manage to brighten the gloomy atmosphere.
Everything in this forsaken land was utterly and intensely desolate, as if life itself had abandoned this corner of the world decades ago and never looked back.
In the far distance, towering mountains covered in white snow stood majestically upon the frozen earth. Their peaks disappeared into the gray mist above, and their absolute silence revealed a deathly stillness.
In the nearby wilderness that stretched endlessly in all directions, only a few scattered, skeletal remains of what had once been trees remained standing.
These withered trees stood as silent witness to the harshness of this environment. The knife-sharp, bitter wind swept freely and mercilessly across the vast wasteland with a banshee-like wail, as if it were seeking to extinguish any remaining spark of life that might dare to exist in this world of eternal winter.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
Suddenly, breaking through the eternal, unchanging symphony of the howling wind, came the sound of steady footsteps making their way through the deep snow. This unusual and unexpectedly welcome sound brought the first touch of actual life to this lonely, abandoned world.
On the gentle slope of a nearby hillside, beneath a natural hollow in the trunk of a withered tree, a small paw as white as snow carefully pushed aside the accumulated snow that had blocked the entrance to its tiny home. Ruby-like eyes, bright with intelligence and curiosity, peered cautiously out from the darkness of the snow hole, gazing with wariness at the outside world.
It was a rabbit.
Bryan paused in his steps and glanced with mild interest toward the tree hollow where the small creature watched him with those jewel-like eyes.
A gentle smile appeared across his face as he chuckled softly to himself, before taking a step up to the crest of the gentle slope.
Looking back over his shoulder at the path he had already traveled through this harsh terrain, Bryan could see that the small town where he had rested for a day and night had now become a barely visible black dot in his vision.
The cotton-like snowflakes that continued to drift steadily and silently from the gloomy sky had already completely covered his earlier footprints, erasing all evidence of his passage. Only the most recent ones in the snow remained clearly visible.
"I've walked so incredibly far already," Bryan murmured to himself with a mixture of amazement and self-mockery, his breath creating another small cloud of white vapor that was immediately whipped away by the wind.
Then his expression grew more serious and determined as he turned his attention ahead—toward the black tower that endured the loneliness of being forgotten by the world, standing at the edge of a cliff.
The multiple towers of the fortress rose in orderly rows. Through the impressive architecture of that majestic castle, one could still vaguely glimpse echoes of its former pride and grandeur, a time when it had been a seat of his power rather than his prison.
The Gothic spires and flying buttresses spoke of ambition that had once sought to touch the heavens themselves, before being turned toward darker purposes.
"Nurmengard, eh?" Bryan spoke the name aloud, and smiled again, but this time his laughter was filled with complex emotions.
Pulling his hands from the pockets of his winter coat, he breathed white vapor onto his numbed fingers in an attempt to restore some feeling to them.
"Good lord, it's absolutely freezing here," Bryan muttered to himself. "I certainly wouldn't want to retire to a godforsaken place like this."
As Bryan continued speaking to himself, his gaze was directed toward the highest black tower. Vaguely, he seemed to see something.
After a brief pause, Bryan prepared to resume walking.
Nurmengard had already appeared clearly within his sight, and he could use Apparition to transport himself directly there. However, for some unknown, he chose not to do so. Instead, he was opting to walk there step by step.
Just as Bryan's raised foot was about to make contact with the snow-covered ground once again, continuing his progress toward his destination, he seemed to sense something. He immediately withdrew his outstretched step and raised his eyebrows in surprise, turning to look behind him.
Pop, pop, pop!
A rapid series of sharp cracks suddenly rang out across the vast snowy plain. Through the continuously falling snow, a group of people appeared not far behind Bryan's position.
The considerable magical commotion they had made upon their arrival was immediately carried far across the wilderness by the ever-present wind, and the heavy snowfall that had been peacefully covering the nearest mountain peaks was violently disturbed by the propagating sound waves, creating clearly visible breaks and disruptions in the previously smooth surface of the accumulated snow layer.
The newly arrived group quickly spotted the figure of Bryan Watson standing on the small hill ahead of them. Without engaging in much discussion or delay, they began helping each other struggle forward through the deep snow with difficulty.
"Wait there, Watson!" the apparent leader of the group called out even before they had come close to his position.
"Good lord," Bryan exclaimed softly as he took in the sight of the large group of breathless, snow-covered people struggling toward him from below the hill. His voice carried a mixture of genuine surprise and mild amusement at this unexpected development. "Quite an impressive crowd has decided to come all this way. But what in the world brings all of you to this desolate place?"
Approximately one hundred individuals had appeared below the small hill where Bryan stood. The group was clearly composed of several separate factions, each with their own particular concerns and motivations for making this difficult journey to one of the most remote locations in the wizarding world.
Kingsley led a group of Aurors from the British Auror Office. The German Ministry of Magic had sent their own official delegation, including several high-ranking officials whose faces showed the strain of the recent events in Berlin.
Another group of wizards with notably diverse skin tones and diverse physical appearances, but all wearing identical formal robes marked them had clearly come from the International Confederation of Wizards.
Bryan's sharp eyes even spotted several obviously professional reporters clutching their cameras with excitement, no doubt hoping to document whatever was about to unfold. These guys had somehow managed to track down this remote location.
And there was Louise standing beside Kingsley, looking up at him with worry.
"What are we here for?" The speaker was another vice-president of the International Confederation of Wizards, specifically one who handled the organization's most stressful and difficult affairs—Bryan's "old friend," Vipor Dreghorn.
Vipor's expression could only be accurately described as absolutely furious. Though he had once been considered quite capable and respected in his younger days, his current age was clearly showing.
Having received what he considered "terrible news" about Bryan's intentions and then traveled such an extraordinarily long distance through harsh conditions to reach this remote location, his complete physical and emotional exhaustion was evident in the deep lines around his eyes and the way his brow was furrowed with stress and fatigue.
Still, despite his obvious weariness, he managed to shout angrily up at Bryan with surprising volume and passion: "Of course, we're here to stop you from making a grave irreversible mistake, Watson! Do you have any idea of what you're doing? Do you understand what your reckless actions will lead to?"
"Of course, I'm completely clear about it, Vipor—" Bryan replied with what appeared to be genuine calm and a slight smile that only seemed to infuriate his interrogator further.
"You're clear about jack—" Vipor nearly allowed himself to let slip a swear word that would have been inappropriate for someone of his position, but his many years of cultivated dignity and professional restraint saved him from that embarrassment at the last moment.
Vipor's bloodshot eyes, rimmed red from fatigue and stress, showed his desperate struggle to maintain control over his temper as he continued:
"Perhaps you already think in your arrogance that you're completely invincible, Watson, which is precisely why you have the incredible audacity to challenge him. But I must tell you something, Watson.....imprisoned within those walls of Nurmengard is the most dangerous wizard in history.
I simply don't believe that you haven't heard his terrible story or that you don't fully know and understand the harm he caused to this world. This situation is absolutely not comparable in any way to that other fellow you and your British colleagues call You-Know-Who.
If you want to use him to prove your authority and demonstrate your power to the magical world, Watson, you are undoubtedly embarking upon something that is incredibly foolish!"
Vipor Dreghorn was speaking so rapidly and with such intensity that he barely gave Bryan any opportunity to speak.
"Since the culprit who attacked your student has already been caught and is now dead, this entire matter should end right here and now. You should have already vented your anger, shouldn't you, Watson? For the love of all that is magical, don't let this situation spiral completely out of control!"
"You seem to think that I've come to duel with the master of this castle?" Bryan tilted his head slightly to one side, looking down at Vipor with an expression of genuine interest and mild amusement.
"Isn't that exactly the case?" Vipor shouted back with obvious anxiety and growing desperation.
"I think there must be a misunderstanding here—" Bryan smiled as he looked down at the crowd on the hill below him, taking in all the faces turned up toward him, expressions filled with various combinations of worry, awe, fear, and anticipation for what might come next.
"I want to enter Nurmengard, but because I believe the person who orchestrated the attack on Hermione Granger is currently hiding inside."
"You don't understand him well enough, Watson!" Vipor gasped as he called out. "Though he is undeniably evil and has committed terrible crimes, he wouldn't stoop to such petty measures as troubling a young witch in such an indirect and cowardly manner. That kind of behavior wouldn't suit his pride."
"I'm not referring to Gellert Grindelwald," Bryan said calmly.
"But rather to Anton Vogel's grandson, Adam Vogel. Based on my investigation and analysis of recent events, I believe he is currently hiding in that castle."
This unexpected statement indeed surprised many of the people gathered below, causing a visible stir of confusion and hurried whispered conversations among the various groups.
However, a look of sudden understanding appeared in Kingsley's eyes as he finally grasped the true reason why Bryan would want to make this trip to Nurmengard.
"Regardless of your actual intentions—" There had been far too many complex issues and crises to resolve in this single day and night, and Vipor simply hadn't had sufficient time to understand all the circumstances and connections that had led to this moment.
Suddenly hearing Bryan mention the name of old Chairman Vogel left him startled and learning that Watson hadn't actually come here to duel the legendary Gellert Grindelwald brought him some measure of relief.
But despite this partial relief, he still said with firm determination: "No matter what your specific reasons or intentions might be, Watson, you absolutely cannot be permitted to enter Nurmengard under any circumstances. You have no right or authority to do so. For more than half a century, no wizard has ever been granted permission to enter that castle!"
"I believe I'm still officially a vice-president of the International Confederation of Wizards," Bryan pointed out reasonably.
"We have no such right either, Watson," Vipor replied stiffly. "The only person qualified to set foot in there, and more importantly, to authorize others to enter that place, is Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore.
Bryan looked thoughtfully toward Kingsley, who responded with an almost unnoticeable shake of his head.
Kingsley had been faithfully following Bryan's specific instructions and hadn't reported anything privately to Dumbledore about their recent activities or Bryan's current intentions. However, the events that had occurred the previous night on the outskirts of Berlin had been extensively reported throughout the international magical press and government channels.
Given Dumbledore's network of connections and sources of information throughout the magical world, he certainly knew much more about the true situation than the carefully limited information that Bryan and the German Ministry of Magic had officially released to the general public.
"Since that's the case—" Bryan sighed with apparent helplessness, a sound that immediately made Vipor and the entire crowd gathered behind him visibly tense with anticipation and worry.
Experience had repeatedly proven that sheer numbers alone, regardless of how many wizards were involved, simply couldn't stop Bryan Watson.
"Fawkes!" Bryan called out in a clear voice.
After his call, a dazzling burst of fire exploded above Bryan's head. Amid the deep, rumbling sound of what seemed like a distant avalanche echoing from the surrounding mountains, the magnificent phoenix raised his proud head and sang out a beautiful cry.
Louise's eyes widened with wonder as she watched from within the crowd, her gaze was filled with fascination as she observed the absolutely beautiful bird that had just perched gracefully on Bryan's shoulder.
"What is that magnificent creature?" Louise tilted her head and asked quietly.
Kingsley didn't provide any answer to her question, instead gave her a warning look.
"Help me deliver a message, Fawkes," Bryan said softly as he stroked Fawkes's beak a few times looking into the phoenix's ruby-like eyes.
"I need to enter Nurmengard, and require authorization from Headmaster Dumbledore."
Fawkes responded by affectionately nipping at Bryan's cheek. The warm, magical power that flowed within Bryan's body made him feel very comfortable and at ease.
After releasing one more high, clear cry, Fawkes completely disappeared from everyone's sight in another burst of dazzling flame.
The crowd didn't have to wait very long for a response. Fire appeared again in the cold air above them, dancing and swirling with the same beauty as before. One of Fawkes's magnificent tail feathers began to fall slowly toward the ground, burning with magical fire and swaying gracefully as it descended through the falling snow like a falling star.
Over the increasingly thunderous snowy plain, where the wind seemed to have grown stronger, Dumbledore's familiar but slightly strangely hoarse voice rang clearly in everyone's ears:
"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do hereby grant permission for Bryan Amos Watson to enter the fortress of Nurmengard."
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