“No.
I can change it.
Don’t forget that I came here too,” Snape said firmly.
As long as he stopped his younger self from doing anything stupid, Lily would never marry James, which meant that tragedy would never happen.
Snape believed that if he properly guided his younger self, he could change the ending.
Dumbledore understood exactly what Snape meant, but there was something he had to remind him of.
“Before Lily came here, she didn’t know you.
If she returns to her own time, the two of you may end up as nothing more than acquaintances who happen to know each other’s names.” Dumbledore’s words struck directly at Snape’s deepest fear.
Unfortunately, Dumbledore still didn’t understand just how much Lily meant to him.
Snape clenched his fists and slowly raised his head.
“I’ll do it anyway.
As long as she lives.” Even if they became nothing more than distant acquaintances, even if Lily never knew him at all, Snape would still do it if that meant she could live.
Ignoring Dumbledore’s astonished expression, Snape turned and strode away, leaving behind nothing but the sweep of his robes.
Once Snape disappeared from the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore picked up a Cockroach Cluster and placed it in his mouth.
Snape’s words had given him the excuse he needed to convince himself.
Don’t change the past?
The person who wanted to change the past more than anyone was Dumbledore himself.
A hundred years had passed, and still he had never managed to forget what happened.
Now that he was old, perhaps Dumbledore wanted to be selfish for once.
Because he truly had to consider the possibility that this might be the only chance he would ever receive.
A chance he had waited an entire century for.
A hundred years…
It was far, far too long.
Dumbledore was only human.
And he was tired.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Witt didn’t sleep particularly well that night.
At six o’clock the next morning, he got up on time, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and opened the System.
Time to draw a dungeon.
The instant Witt pressed down, the pointer on the roulette wheel began to glow.
His relaxed expression vanished.
Bloody hell.
The glowing pointer effect looked cheap as anything, but Witt had only ever seen it once before.
The very first time he’d drawn a dungeon.
That time, the pointer had glowed— and then he’d drawn a Legendary Dungeon.
Over the following year, he’d eaten more than a hundred Crucios and over two hundred Avada Kedavras.
At this point, he’d practically been Kedavra numb.
No way.
No bloody way!
Witt was panicking now.
I’m only a newbie!
Hadn’t the System said the odds were one in ten thousand?
He hadn’t even made fifty draws yet, and he’d already triggered this effect twice!
What kind of one in ten thousand probability was that?
You bloody System, stop screwing with me!
The wheel slowly began to stop, the pointer struggling its way through the blue section.
“Stop.” Witt desperately wanted to reach out and force the wheel to stop himself.
Please.
I’m begging you.
Don’t go any farther.
Perhaps the System actually heard his prayers.
In the end, the pointer stopped just short of the thread-thin golden line.
Purple light appeared before Witt.
White occupied fifty percent of the System’s roulette wheel.
Green occupied thirty five percent.
Blue occupied fourteen percent.
Purple and gold combined made up the remaining one percent.
And gold alone had odds of just one in ten thousand.
Purple.
Witt breathed a small sigh of relief.
At least it wasn’t the worst possible result.
He could live with purple.
Please don’t be anything too difficult.
━━━━━ QUEST ━━━━━ [🟣 Purple – Epic Quest | The Sword of Gryffindor] Godric Gryffindor commissioned the goblin king, Ragnuk the First, to forge him a sword.
The instant the magnificent sword was completed, Ragnuk the First was captivated by it.
It was the most dazzling masterpiece he had ever forged in his life.
Yet bound by his promise, he ultimately handed the sword over to Gryffindor.
As he watched Gryffindor leave with the sword, Ragnuk the First was consumed with regret.
Day after day, he found himself longing for the blade.
Unable to get it out of his mind, he eventually decided to send someone to steal it back.
━━━ 🎯 Quest Objective: Steal the Sword of Gryffindor from Godric Gryffindor and deliver it to the goblin king, Ragnuk the First.
🎁 Quest Reward: Ragnuk the First’s Master-level Forging Techniques.
⚠️ Abandon Quest: The hatred and relentless pursuit of the goblin race.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Emmmm…
After reading the Quest description, Witt went completely blank.
He had only been Sorted into Gryffindor yesterday.
And today he was being sent to pick a fight with Gryffindor himself.
Compared with the Legendary Quest’s requirement to defeat and kill its targets, stealing the Sword of Gryffindor certainly sounded easier.
But he was a first-year!
I’m just a newbie!
Godric Gryffindor was renowned as the greatest duellist of his age.
The word greatest deserved particular emphasis.
Stealing the Sword of Gryffindor directly from him…
Witt felt it might actually be easier to find that idiot goblin king and hit him with an Avada Kedavra instead.
Then again, that probably wouldn’t be easy either.
Ragnuk was the king of the goblins, after all.
Assassinating a king was also far beyond Witt’s current level.
Better try stealing the sword first.
With that thought, Witt accepted the Quest.
The next second, he appeared inside a shabby little village.
At the centre of the village stood a tavern.
Godric Gryffindor was inside drinking.
Perfect.
Witt’s eyes lit up.
Gryffindor was already drunk.
His reactions had to be slower than usual.
If Witt ambushed him with the Killing Curse, maybe he could actually pull it off.
As a student of Gryffindor House, the most important quality Witt possessed was courage.
Today, Witt would show Godric Gryffindor exactly how courageous one of his Gryffindors could be.
Witt quietly concealed himself as best he could.
Taking advantage of his small size, he slipped through the crowd in the tavern until he found an extremely awkward angle from which to attack.
Now!
“Avada Kedavra!” A jet of green light shot towards Gryffindor like lightning.
The drunken Gryffindor suddenly felt his heart seize.
It was as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.
He sobered instantly.
In one smooth motion, he reached behind himself, drew his sword, and precisely intercepted Witt’s Killing Curse.
The Killing Curse could be stopped by physical objects.
What it couldn’t be stopped by was a magical shield.
And the Sword of Gryffindor was the crowning masterpiece of a goblin king.
Its durability went without saying.
The Killing Curse failed to leave so much as a mark on the blade.
The instant his attack failed, Witt turned and ran.
Unfortunately, he had vastly underestimated the difference between them.
The next second, Gryffindor appeared directly in front of him.
One punch.
Witt was smashed straight to the ground.
The tremendous force knocked him unconscious.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ When Witt woke again, he found himself tied up from head to toe.
His wand was gone as well, confiscated by Gryffindor.
The surroundings had changed too.
The tavern was nowhere in sight.
They were now deep within a dense forest.
Gryffindor sat beside a campfire, roasting one unfortunate rabbit.
It smelled incredible.
“Mr Gryffindor, could I have some?” Witt swallowed.
He hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.
“Where did you come from, and why did you attack me?” Gryffindor was sitting some distance away and didn’t even turn to look at Witt as he spoke.
He had discovered something strange about the boy.
There seemed to be some peculiar magic surrounding Witt.
Whenever Gryffindor focused his attention on him, an inexplicable wave of disgust rose inside him.
It felt like looking at some revolting bastard who, in the middle of a fair duel, resorted to underhanded tricks and dirty tactics to steal a victory.
Gryffindor deliberately kept his distance because he was afraid that if he got too close, he might lose control and beat Witt to death.
“The goblin king asked me to steal the sword in your possession.” Then, with shameless sincerity, Witt asked, “So…
would you be willing to lend me your sword for a bit, just so I can finish my Quest?” (;￢＿￢) Gryffindor stared at Witt in disbelief.
In all his life, he had never met anyone this shameless.
The brat had ambushed him while he was drunk.
And that sinister green curse had unquestionably been intended to kill him.
If Witt hadn’t been a child, Gryffindor would have killed him on the spot.
And now— the boy actually had the nerve to ask to borrow his sword so he could complete his Quest.
The sheer thickness of Witt’s skin was probably enough to blunt the Sword of Gryffindor itself.