Chapter 446 - The Point of the Trip

Chapter 446: Chapter 446 - The Point of the Trip

Dumbledore tilted his head toward Edgar. Regulus took the hint and followed.

There had been two reasons for coming here.

One was to see whether Edgar’s anchor had made it through the second full moon. That had just been confirmed.

But the Guardian will was struggling to hold on inside him. The power it consumed came from Regulus personally, and when he wasn’t there it could only run on whatever reserve of will was left behind. Long term, the structure had a flaw, and he wasn’t sure how long it could last.

He knew Dumbledore had seen the anchor. He also knew that once the old man saw a guarded humanity barely holding on under the beast’s assault, he’d step in. His instincts in this area were the same as his phoenix Patronus. When he saw something worth protecting start to wobble, he’d move to steady it.

You could call it scheming, but scheming at this level didn’t even count as being clever. He’d just put two things side by side. A flawed anchor and an old wizard capable of fixing the flaw. The rest would happen on its own.

The two of them crossed through the pack, still invisible, skirting the wolves rolling and biting across the clearing, until they reached the broken wall.

Edgar crouched in the mud, chest heaving, an occasional low whimper rolling from his throat. Next to the pack around him he was so quiet he seemed like a different species. One wolf running past had stepped on his tail. He’d only pulled it back and shifted aside. No bared teeth, no biting back.

Dumbledore stopped a few steps away, eyes settling on Edgar. Then he acted.

Though calling it acting wasn’t quite right. Nothing moved.

Regulus watched the side of the old man’s face.

His eyes brightened, very lightly, very faintly. Will itself was taking shape, gathering, sending itself outward through the air and the moonlight to touch Edgar’s mental barrier.

It was nothing like the way Regulus had barged in. Back then he’d used Legilimency, charging straight through, forcing the door open, then working carefully once inside.

Dumbledore melted in. Along the curve of the pupil, along the nerves behind the eye, along the grain of the mental barrier, seeping in bit by bit. He never touched the door. The grain around the contact point spread apart on its own, opening a passage, then closed again once the will had passed through.

The whole thing took less than a breath, and the barrier was still the same barrier.

That one move alone gave him plenty to chew on. It had nothing to do with power or talent. It was purely understanding, something built up over time.

Then that thread of will touched the guardian shell.

The shell’s whole nature was protection. Draw a boundary, protect what’s inside, reject anything that intrudes from outside.

But Dumbledore’s will passed through. The shell identified it as one of its own and simply let it by.

Regulus’s amber slit pupils contracted slightly.

Not really a surprise. This was Dumbledore.

The old man’s will reached the shell’s center and touched the flame wrapped inside.

He saw it clearly. Blue-white Guardian will, bright enough, good enough. It had intent, direction, something to protect. After every impact the shell adjusted its structure, reinforcing whatever weak point the last blow had opened. It was learning, adapting, and doing it well.

But there was a problem.

That flame sat inside, safe, wrapped up. It simply existed. It hadn’t been activated. Every time the beast surged, the Guardian will was what pushed back, absorbing the full impact for the core.

It could hold steady. But steady was all it could do. The person inside wasn’t fighting the beast. He was crouched in there waiting for the storm to pass.

Dumbledore could also see what Regulus cared about. The boy didn’t care whether this werewolf’s humanity could ultimately defeat the beast. He only cared whether the path worked. If the shell held, the path was open. Whether the person inside could stand up on his own wasn’t something he’d considered.

But Dumbledore did.

His will touched the flame, and lit it.

An operation at the level of the soul, activating the flame’s own potential. It had always been able to shine. It had just been crushed under fear and despair for so long that it forgot it could burn. He’d simply reminded it.

Regulus stood right there and took in the whole process.

He saw the will touch the flame, and something inside wake up. He saw the flame begin to glow, from a dark red on the verge of going out, brightening to orange, then gold, finally settling into a warm yellow leaning toward pale gold.

The shell hadn’t changed. The blue-white light was still there. But golden light shone out from within it now, the two overlapping. What was inside was no longer dark. It had gone from being the thing protected to a core that could shine on its own.

The effect was almost instant.

Edgar’s body shuddered. His front paws clutched at the mud, claw tips sinking in, scraping out a few shallow grooves.

Then they loosened. His body eased out of its stiffness, his shoulder blades no longer jutting so high, his hind legs stretching out from their curled position. The tail hanging at the base of the wall gave a light sweep, the mindless twitching from before becoming a slow, rhythmic swing.

He lifted his head. The wolf skull turned slowly, scanning the frenzied pack around him.

The cloudiness and the beast were still there. Bloodlust still churned at the bottom of his eyes. But underneath there was now recognition and thought, a clarity just surfacing from the chaos.

He looked down at the front paws pressed into the mud. Furry, long thick knuckles, gray-yellow claws. He recognized them as his own.

Then he drew back into the corner of the wall, away from a gray wolf running his way.

He’d seen a threat and made a choice. Even if it was the tiniest decision, it was a conscious one. Wild werewolves didn’t have that. Neither did tame ones. Now he did.

Before, he’d simply not participated, passively staying put. Now he was actively choosing not to. Passive had become active, and that step mattered more than anything.

Dumbledore withdrew his will. His eyes returned to their usual gentleness, the corner of his mouth curved slightly, and he glanced at Regulus with approval.

Regulus saw it and lifted his chin in response.

He didn’t ask a single question.

Dumbledore had done something he couldn’t do yet. His Guardian will could protect, but it couldn’t ignite. The fine adjustments at the level of will, the technique for making a flame burn on its own, all of that required time to build up.

But he didn’t need the answer right now. Store the scene in his head, carry it forward, and someday when he ran into something that suddenly connected with tonight, that was when it would truly be his.

That was the point of the trip. Not asking questions, not asking to be taught. Just staying at Dumbledore’s side, watching him work, watching those blue eyes crinkle after lighting up Edgar’s humanity.

Regulus raised a hand and rubbed his chin.

What he’d done was protection. Carrying the load for someone else meant the strength came from outside. Cut off the source and the protection weakened.

Dumbledore had shown him the next step. The thing being protected could shine on its own and join the resistance. Protection only provided the environment, and the humanity finally had room to go from passively existing to actively burning. Guardian will carrying from outside, humanity burning from inside, both pushing together. Far more stable than what he’d originally built.

He’d always understood protection as a shield, a wall. Looking at it now, maybe it was more than that.

Maybe protection could also be soil. Or light?

From "I’ll carry it for you" to "I’ll carry it for you until you can carry it yourself"?

Whether the old man had deliberately let him see all this or had just done what he thought needed doing hardly mattered. Given Dumbledore’s style, deliberate and incidental were probably the same thing.

Either way, he’d only understood half of it. He’d seen the flame go from dark to bright, but not the step in between, not how to make a passive humanity burn on its own.

Still, he had a direction now, and a clear one. Humanity itself could be lit.

His thoughts took a turn.

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