Hogwarts' White Lord

"Are we just going to stand by and watch?"

Dawlish, being young and eager to prove himself, couldn't hold back his impatience.

What Dawlish failed to notice, however, was the way the Aurors under his command were looking at him—as if he were a fool.

The reality was simple: Aurors earned a decent salary, but that salary wasn't worth risking their lives for a situation like this.

This was part of why the British Ministry of Magic wasn't as strong as it could be.

Organizations like the Order of the Phoenix, united by a shared belief and willing to risk life and death without compensation, were far more effective in combat. Their sense of purpose was something that salaried Aurors simply couldn't match.

In truth, the Ministry's real strength lay with its Strike Team—a group of elite wizards.

Veterans like Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt had originally been members of that team.

Compared to them, Dawlish was little more than an inexperienced Auror captain with limited combat exposure.

In routine situations, this might not be obvious, but in the face of life-and-death decisions, the gap between them was starkly apparent.

Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Ivan, who was locked in combat with over a dozen wizards, noticed the Aurors approaching in the distance.

One figure in particular stood out—an older wizard with a distinctive magical eye.

"Mad-Eye Moody?"

Ivan immediately recognized him.

He hadn't expected Moody to show up here.

In Ivan's memory, Moody had already retired by the time Harry was in his fourth year at Hogwarts.

But now, three years earlier, it wasn't surprising that Moody was still active on the front lines, battling dark wizards.

"A troublesome guy,"

Ivan was confident in his strength and didn't take Mad-Eye Moody too seriously.

However, the real issue wasn't Moody's power or combat skills—it was his special magical eye.

From Ivan's perception, Moody's magical eye, with its chaotic and intense magical aura, was undoubtedly a top-tier alchemical artifact.

In the original stories, the round, bright blue magic eye had extraordinary abilities. It could see through walls, clothing, and even the back of Moody's own head. Moreover, it could effortlessly penetrate magical concealments like invisibility cloaks and Disillusionment Charms.

Of course, this wasn't a crude sort of "x-ray vision."

Moody's eye provided a more sophisticated perspective—it allowed him to observe the world from the viewpoint of magic itself, almost like a constant magical scan.

In essence, the magic eye granted Moody low-level psychic vision.

The moment Ivan sensed Moody's scrutiny, he responded immediately.

First, he applied a layer of magic film over himself. Then, he used the Fenix and his magic incarnation to weave a protective layer that even psychic vision couldn't penetrate.

Only after reinforcing his defenses did Ivan feel a measure of relief.

On the other side, Moody was visibly startled.

"Huh? What's going on with this kid? My magic eye can't see anything!"

This was a first for Moody in his decades-long career as an Auror.

"He knows me!" Moody muttered to himself.

It was clear to him that Ivan's defenses were deliberate—they were specifically designed to counter his magical eye.

This could only mean that Ivan knew who Moody was and understood the abilities of his magical artifact.

"Who is he?" Moody wondered, frowning.

It wasn't strange for someone to recognize him. After all, Mad-Eye Alastor Moody was a name known not just in Britain but internationally.

But knowing the precise capabilities of his magic eye was something else entirely.

One thing Moody was certain of: This intruder was not a foreign wizard.

Because of Moody's magic eye, very few people knew its full range of capabilities.

Even dark wizards defeated by him only understood that the eye could see through spells and uncover hidden places like black markets.

But the more advanced abilities—such as its capacity for magical analysis and penetrating vision—were secrets Moody had never openly disclosed.

"No, that's not right," Moody muttered to himself.

The only person besides him who knew the full extent of the magic eye's abilities was Dumbledore.

In Moody's assessment, Ivan's strength clearly reached the level of a great wizard, one of the most powerful among them.

Such wizards were extremely rare in England.

Excluding Voldemort, who was thought to have been long dead, the only comparable figure was Dumbledore.

His analysis led to one conclusion: Ivan's strength might not yet rival Dumbledore's, but it was certainly close.

The power of a great wizard wasn't something Moody could easily measure. From his perspective, Ivan was weaker than Dumbledore but only marginally so.

Appearances were meaningless in this situation. Moody's magic eye couldn't penetrate the effects of Polyjuice Potion, but he had his own methods.

He could often determine whether someone had used Polyjuice Potion by observing subtle shifts in their magical energy through the magic eye.

Unfortunately, Ivan's magical coat was impenetrable. It blocked every attempt Moody made to scrutinize him.

Not only could Moody not identify any details about Ivan's magic, but he also couldn't discern even the faintest clue about his identity.

"This face isn't his real face," Moody thought grimly. He was almost certain that Ivan had altered his appearance.

As for the method, there were many possibilities in the wizarding world beyond just Polyjuice Potion. A variety of magical means could achieve similar effects.

"It can't be Dumbledore, right?"

Powerful strength, a clear familiarity with the abilities of Moody's magic eye, and deliberate concealment of his identity—these factors all painted a complex picture of Ivan.

The most telling detail, however, was that Ivan's spells had consistently avoided killing anyone.

No, wait—someone had been injured.

Moody's sharp gaze fell on Captain Grotter, whose arm had been blown apart by one of Ivan's spells.

The sight of the gruesome injury caused some of the younger Aurors to pale, their stomachs churning at the bloody scene.

"It shouldn't be Dumbledore," Moody muttered.

Though Ivan hadn't killed Captain Grotter, the loss of his wand-wielding arm meant the mercenary's career as a wizard was effectively over.

For someone who had cast a Killing Curse at him, sparing Grotter's life was a clear demonstration of Ivan's restraint—a hard but fair line he wouldn't cross.

"No... it could still be Dumbledore," Moody said, reconsidering after a moment of silence.

The similarities between Ivan and Dumbledore were undeniable.

Dumbledore was known for his steadfast refusal to kill unless absolutely necessary. Moreover, Captain Grotter wasn't just any combat wizard—he was a notorious cruel wizard with a terrible reputation, even internationally.

What's more, Ivan had completely refrained from attacking the Aurors.

Moody had observed the aftermath outside Gringotts; all the Aurors injured by Ivan's spells had been left with minor wounds and would recover after a brief stay in St. Mungo's Hospital.

"Could it really be Dumbledore?" Moody wondered.

While Moody wrestled with these thoughts, Ivan had already picked up on his line of reasoning.

'Ok, they think I can be Dumbledore~'

An unexpected idea came to Ivan, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

With a flick of his hand, Ivan deflected the incoming Killing Curses effortlessly. Then, raising his wand, he unleashed a torrent of golden flames, resembling a majestic phoenix in its brilliance.

"The God of Fire, make way!"

The next moment, as Ivan waved his wand downward, the originally violent and disorderly flames instantly seemed to have self-awareness, transforming into a golden phoenix that was a meter long.

_________

Read 15 Chaps ahead:

Patreon.com/HornyFBI