Isaac’s final destination was the sweet shop right next to Ollivanders.
Wouldn’t it seem entirely reasonable for a child to sneak away from his parents just to buy some sweets?
I must say, the confectionery in the wizarding world is uniquely eccentric.
There were Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, and, of course, the Cockroach Clusters displayed prominently in the corner.
To be perfectly honest, Isaac had always harbored the suspicion that the only person who actually ate those things was Albus Dumbledore.
The only reason the shopkeeper still kept them in stock was specifically to cater to the Headmaster’s bizarre tastes.
After all, who else could it possibly be for?
The wooden shelves inside the sweet shop were arranged in neat rows.
Upon entering, Isaac walked quickly toward the furthest, most secluded corner.
There, he spotted Dumbledore, who looked as if he had already been waiting for him for quite some time.
This greatest wizard of the age, the only person Lord Voldemort ever feared, the man who had defeated Grindelwald, and a close personal friend of Nicolas Flamel, was currently standing quietly in the corner of a sweet shop, waiting for Isaac.
Upon seeing Isaac arrive, Dumbledore took off his half-moon spectacles and wiped them clean.
“Isaac, I received your letter.
You mentioned that someone is attempting to attack you?”
“Yes, Professor Dumbledore,” Isaac nodded.
This was the primary reason he had urgently “summoned” the Headmaster.
Just moments ago, near the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, Isaac had sensed a sudden spike of danger and had immediately cast a prophetic vision upon himself.
Having seen the outcome, he had decisively retraced his steps back into Diagon Alley.
The driver sent by his old butler at the entrance had already been placed under the Imperius Curse or otherwise compromised by a rogue wizard.
Had Isaac gotten into the car, he likely would have been ambushed and kidnapped on the spot.
However, this hidden assailant clearly didn’t know how to properly handle a Seer.
Seers are creatures endowed with incredibly potent defensive premonitions.
Someone like Isaac could detect the malice before it ever arrived and simply peer into the future to verify it.
If an attacker cannot completely mask their intent from a Seer’s intuition, then any ambush targeting them is bound to be exposed, just as it had been this time.
Of course, some Seers are remarkably reckless.
Their attitude is usually: I know you’re going to attack me, and I know exactly how strong you are.
The only reason I’m walking into your trap is to crush you fair and square.
Gellert Grindelwald actually possessed that exact trait.
Unfortunately, Isaac was no Grindelwald—even though he also wanted to fight, his current circumstances simply didn’t allow it.
In other universes, young wizards his age were already casting the Cruciatus Curse with expertise, and some could manipulate Fiendfyre to terrifying effect.
Some prodigies even started slinging chain-lightning versions of the Killing Curse before they had even stepped foot inside a school.
Compared to his peers across the multiverse, Isaac wasn’t just dragging down the average for transmigrators; he was a total embarrassment.
The problem was that his cheat code really wasn’t combat-oriented.
Left with no other choice, he could only act as a human summoner for once, bringing Dumbledore directly to the field.
He couldn’t cast chain-lightning Avada Kedavras himself, but summoning the ultimate wizard who could handle it was a perfectly valid strategy, wasn’t it?
Could it be that his true magical career path lay in the summoning style?
Honestly, as a Seer, Isaac possessed extraordinary potential in this “summoning style.” He could completely calculate the exact success rate of summoning various “legendary” and “epic” reinforcements through his prophetic sight.
One had to remember that Hogwarts didn’t just have Dumbledore as its Headmaster; it also housed four Heads of Houses and a whole roster of highly skilled professors.
Once Isaac officially enrolled and built a rapport with the staff, should he ever encounter a situation like this again, he could easily assemble a luxury magical sightseeing tour.
After all, watching a dark wizard get absolutely pulverized while trying to kidnap a student certainly counted as a premium sightseeing event.
Dumbledore, entirely unaware of the hyperactive thoughts running through Isaac’s brain, carefully checked the boy over for injuries before asking, “Then, do you happen to know the identity of your would-be attacker?”
“Oh, it’s just one of Lord Voldemort’s lackeys,” Isaac stated, throwing out the Dark Lord’s name without a shred of hesitation.
He truly wasn’t afraid of Voldemort.
For one thing, the Dark Lord didn’t feel entirely real to him yet.
Even though he was physically present in the wizarding world, Voldemort still felt more like a fictional character to Isaac.
His most vivid mental impression of the man right now was simply that he lacked a nose.
Since Isaac hadn’t experienced Voldemort’s brutality or cruelty firsthand, he naturally couldn’t bring himself to be terrified based on written descriptions alone.
Furthermore, the very first legendary figure Isaac had encountered upon arriving in this world was Grindelwald.
If he truly had to fear someone, wasn’t Grindelwald vastly more terrifying than Voldemort?
Back then, during that display of Fiendfyre in Paris, if Nicolas Flamel hadn’t rallied a circle of wizards to contain it, who knows how many citizens would have been burned to ash.
In short, a noseless stray dog wasn’t worth losing sleep over, and a Death Eater running around playing minion to a defunct Dark Lord was even less of a concern.
This was what Isaac considered despising the enemy from a strategic standpoint.
“Tom…” Upon hearing Voldemort’s true name, Dumbledore’s expression finally shifted.
However, his face didn’t grow rigid with fear; rather, from Isaac’s perspective, the Headmaster’s eyes filled with a mixture of profound bewilderment and caution.
He was likely trying to deduce why a remnant Death Eater would suddenly target Isaac.
“Tsk!
Professor, that Tom Riddle is just taking advantage of the fact that you’re a proper intellectual!” Isaac interjected, breaking the heavy silence.
“Why overthink it?
Just capture the man and interrogate him!
Use Legilimency on him, or if he has mental defenses, just force-feed him some Veritaserum.
Professor Snape definitely keeps a stock of that in his private stores!”
Isaac’s radical, aggressive suggestion abruptly shattered Dumbledore’s train of thought.
The Headmaster instinctively opened his mouth to correct the boy’s reckless mindset.
But then he paused, remembering that Isaac was a Seer, and then he factored in Snape’s actual personality…
Oh dear, the boy is entirely right; Severus absolutely keeps a private stash of Veritaserum.
“Very well, you make a valid point.
We should indeed secure the individual first,” Dumbledore conceded, a faint twinkle returning to his eyes.
“Do you have any precise knowledge regarding this Death Eater’s identity?”
“Uh…
I can point him out to you in the crowd, but if you’re asking me for his actual name…” Isaac spread his hands, showing he was at his limit.
Had he summoned Professor Snape instead, he might have been able to learn the attacker’s identity by scrying a future vision of Snape interrogating the prisoner.
Unfortunately, it was Dumbledore who had answered the call, and the Headmaster was the undisputed king of riddles in the British wizarding world.
A total master of obfuscation!
“In that case, Isaac, there might be a small favor I need to ask of you,” Dumbledore said, suddenly looking down at him with an expression that clearly signaled he had just conceived a brilliant plan.
This specific look immediately made Isaac’s heart skip a beat.
As the old proverb goes, one does not fear a villain plotting meticulously, but rather a fool suffering a sudden burst of inspiration.
Granted, that description couldn’t strictly apply to Dumbledore, but a grandmaster’s sudden inspiration was sometimes far more destructive than a fool’s.
Just as Isaac was preparing to politely but firmly decline, Dumbledore lowered his voice, speaking in a low, resonant cadence.
“Isaac…
do you wish to become stronger?”
Isaac froze, completely dumbfounded.
Oh my god…
Was the Albus Dumbledore standing in front of him actually a non-player character from a cheap, trashy mobile browser game?
Why on earth did that sentence reek so heavily of a pay-to-win microtransaction scheme!