allendalepharm Chapter 172 The Strange Events of Seeing the Horcrux Two Years Ago
Chapter 172 The Strange Events of Seeing the Horcrux Two Years Ago
Chapter 173 (6.2k long chapter) Seeing the Soul Weapon: A Strange Event from Two Thousand Years Ago
More than a month has passed since the group in the secret room adopted the name "Boxer Rebellion".
But the frozen clouds dispersed, the accumulated snow melted away, the river thawed and geese returned, and the warmth of spring permeated the willow branches, spreading across the world.
As Hermione had predicted, the group from the Noble Club that the Ministry of Magic had taken away earlier all returned unharmed.
Even that old woman, Rozier, escaped imprisonment unscathed.
The Ministry of Magic, finding no concrete evidence to substantiate her charge of inciting students, issued only a warrant forbidding her from forming cliques and released her.
As for Harry and his followers, those powerful figures did not bother with them.
It turns out that the Daily Prophet had already spread the news far and wide, and that wizards not only in the British Isles, but also in France, Germany, and America knew about it.
Half-blood wizards make up 70% of the magic world, and even if those pure-blood families have grievances, which one would dare to defy the wrath of the masses?
Moreover, many families still owed Harry money, so he had no choice but to swallow his anger.
Just then, Lockhart's new book, "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," was published, vividly depicting the Ministry of Magic's incompetence.
For a time, the talk of the town was that Fudge was indecisive, while Scrinker was a fearless and tough guy who was not afraid of power. Popular opinion was overwhelming, and everyone said that this man was the material to be a minister!
As the saying goes, "Great achievements can overshadow one's master, and a tall tree catches the wind." Scrimgeour naturally earned the nickname "tough nut to crack" in the martial arts world.
This fame spread far and wide, but it angered one person. Who was it, you ask? It was none other than Cornelius Fudge.
This fellow was narrow-minded to begin with. Seeing that Scrimgeour was gaining more and more power and had the intention of replacing him, how could he possibly restrain himself?
Before long, the Daily Prophet published a major news story that caused quite a stir. It said that all the teachers and students of Hogwarts were invited to visit the Ministry of Magic and see for themselves.
Fudge then established a rule that this event must be held every semester, euphemistically called:
To demystify the Ministry of Magic and increase transparency among wizarding communities, allowing the future wizarding world to have a clearer understanding of the Ministry.
These words sound grand and dignified, but they cannot fool discerning people.
The magazine "Singing the Divergent," which specializes in saying what others dare not say, published a scathing article saying that Fudge was pretentious and knew that he was not as strong as Scrinker, so he had to put on a show of being considerate and approachable.
Although Fudge's true intentions are unknown, the invitation has indeed been sent, just as Hermione had previously stated.
Her prophetic words seemed to come true, as if she had foreseen the future. However, all the Boxer Rebellion heroes were present in the secret room that day, and they clearly did not hear a single word uttered by her.
When the news spread, everyone was astonished. They gathered in twos and threes, scratching their heads, unable to figure out what kind of supernatural power Hermione had used.
Helena, who had a penchant for giving nicknames to others, was intrigued when she heard about this. She immediately searched through ancient and modern books, both Eastern and Western, and finally exclaimed in admiration, giving Hermione a resounding nickname: the Silent Calculator.
"One professor leading the group, and six visiting students—this is the final number of participants Minister Fouché has set."
"The tour starts at 6 a.m. the day after tomorrow. I will bring someone to pick you up."
After Scrimgeour read the invitation aloud from the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the students reacted in various ways.
Those who were originally from the aristocratic club whispered among themselves, marveling at the sight. The Boxers, however, remained calm and simply observed from the sidelines.
Dumbledore stroked his beard and listened attentively, glancing at Harry with his eyes, before slowly saying, "Rufus, why don't we have lunch here?"
"If you miss your time at Hogwarts."
Upon hearing this, Scrimgeour bowed respectfully to Dumbledore, "Thank you for your invitation, Professor Dumbledore."
Having said that, he did not refuse and went straight to the Gryffindor seat.
Seeing this, Ron quickly stepped aside to make room for Harry, and Scrimgeour sat down next to him without any hesitation.
The two hit it off immediately, and Harry raised his glass in a toast:
"I've recently heard that many in the martial arts world praise you, brother, as more capable of shouldering great responsibilities than that Fookie. But I wonder if that fellow has secretly been making things difficult for you?"
Upon hearing his question, Scrimgeour sighed deeply, "Harry, don't talk about such disgusting things while we're eating."
Seeing that he was unwilling to say more, Harry crossed his hands to apologize and changed the subject, asking in detail about the visit to the Ministry of Magic.
They could ask about everything from whether one could carry weapons, where one could go, to the layout of the halls and the winding corridors of the Ministry of Magic.
After they had eaten and drunk their fill, Harry secretly slipped him a bag of Galleons, which Scrimgeour accepted without hesitation and hurriedly left.
Harry and his two companions left the hall and headed towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
After Lupin counted off the day, Ron couldn't contain himself and whispered, "Harry, who do you think we should take?"
"The three of us are definitely going. How about we draw lots to choose the other three spots?"
Harry waved his hand and said, "No need for such trouble. Seamus and Neville have been my bedmates for nearly three years, we're brothers, and they're quite capable. We can go together."
Ron nodded in agreement, then asked doubtfully, "What about the last spot? Why not give it to Colin?"
Harry glanced over and saw Malfoy sitting between Crabbe and Goyle, like a star surrounded by the moon.
He laughed and said, "Colin is still young and his abilities are limited. Besides, it doesn't necessarily have to be his own brother; bringing someone he doesn't get along with can also be surprisingly effective."
Ron followed Harry's gaze, his mind clear as a mirror. He simply nodded and remained silent, as if in deep meditation.
"So, who should we choose as the team leader?"
Hermione glanced at Lupin, who was explaining the Grindelwald in the water tank, and said, "Speaking of which, we should have 100% say in this, right?"
As she was whispering to Harry, she suddenly felt a weight on her shoulder and saw Lockhart appear beside her without her noticing.
With one hand on Harry's shoulder and the other loosely around Hermione, he said in a low voice:
"Hey, my dear Hermione, it's time for class."
"Sorry, Assistant Coach Lockhart."
Lockhart smirked, ignoring his words, and turned to Harry, saying happily:
"Harry, you may not know this, but Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban has taken the top spot in sales this week."
"Based on my experience, this book has a good chance of surpassing my masterpiece, *Hogwarts and the Chamber of Secrets*!"
Lockhart was talking animatedly, but Harry had long since grown impatient. He suddenly reached out and wrapped his arm around Lockhart's neck.
"Professor, stop your fuss. Now that this book has been published, it's pointless to concern yourself with anything else. Today, I have a very important secret to share with you."
Lockhart had him wrapped around his little finger, but when he heard the word "wealth," his eyes lit up and he immediately replied:
"Okay! What is it?"
"My brother Scrimgeour made it clear at noon that old man Fudge was sending teachers and students to the Ministry of Magic."
"If the professor has some free time, he might as well take the head seat of the team."
It should be noted that Harry's plan had a deeper purpose. His trip to the Ministry of Magic was actually to retrieve the locket, a theft.
Bringing along someone with high magical power would only attract attention. It would be better to invite Lockhart, who is skilled in forgetting spells. If any trouble is caused, he can simply cast a spell and it will be gone without a trace, like a footprint in the snow.
Upon hearing this, Lockhart felt as if he had won the lottery, and stood there stunned, his soul seemingly flying towards the Southern Heavenly Gate.
Once his soul returned to his body, he suddenly came to his senses and cried out in alarm:
"Wait! You decided who would go on the visit to the Ministry of Magic?!"
"Professor Lockhart," Lupin called out, "is there a problem on your end?"
"Oh! Sorry, Remus, please continue."
Lockhart hurriedly apologized, then quickly bent down and asked excitedly, "Can I really go?"
"If the professor dares to cast spells on those birdmen in the Ministry of Magic, then go ahead."
"Furthermore, regarding the arrangements for coming and going, among the hundreds of students in this school, which one wouldn't obey my orders?"
"If I were to say that I wish to leave alone, all the students in the school would surely complain of stomach aches and be unable to move."
Lockhart gasped in shock, his mind reeling at the thought of casting a spell on the Ministry of Magic.
Seeing the troubled look on his face, Harry said, "Professor, please think it over carefully and give me an answer before you leave the room."
Lockhart silently nodded, strolled back to Lupin's side, and continued to calculate with his fingers.
By the time the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was over, the Grindylow in the water tank was completely disoriented, its white belly facing upwards, foaming at the mouth.
Lockhart rushed to Harry's side, took a breath, and solemnly said:
"Wow!"
Harry clapped his hands and laughed, "Brilliant! It's like having a favorable east wind; everything is ready!"
As expected, Scrimgeour came to Hogwarts to pick them up the following day at dawn.
Lockhart, wearing a star-studded wizard's hat and a peacock blue cloak, stood out from the crowd, truly a crane among chickens.
Behind him followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with Nassimus and Neville close together, and Draco, his face bruised and swollen, huddled at the back of the group, his eyes darting around.
Scrimgeour scanned the group, then said strangely, "Please come with me, Professor Lockhart, and the children."
The group left the school gate and saw two black-painted carriages parked in the fog.
The carved windowpanes were bathed in morning light, and runes flickered on the wooden shaft. Scrimgeour waved his wand, and the door swung open.
"Please get in the car."
Seamus stood on tiptoe and peered around for a while, then asked hesitantly, "Uh... excuse me, Mr. Scrimgeour, are you here to pull the cart?"
Harry pointed to the several emaciated beasts in front of the carriage. They were pitch black, shaped like dragons and horses, with two bat wings tucked under their ribs. Their fur clung tightly to their skeletons, and their ribs protruded like washboards.
"Brother Ximo, how could you be so blind? How could you not see such conspicuous livestock?"
"Those are Thestrals," Hermione explained. "Only those who have witnessed death can see them."
Harry thought to himself: I see. His brother and sister had both witnessed someone kill that scoundrel Peter, so they recognized the beast.
Nessim and Neville, having never experienced life-or-death situations, were naturally blind to the dangers.
Scrinker nodded. "Miss Granger is right."
"But now is not the time to introduce magical creatures. Let's not waste time, or Minister Fudge will get impatient."
Everyone filed into the carriage, except for Draco, who was ashen-faced and trembling, as he squeezed through the door into the carriage and sat down next to Harry.
But then one could hear the wind whipping up the wings of the night-steed beneath the chariot, and indeed:
The dragon's head soars high into the clouds, its bat wings spread wide, obscuring the sky.
With a gust of wind beneath their hooves, the chariot soared straight up to the ninth heaven.
In less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the carriage came to a smooth stop.
Draco, unable to contain himself any longer, hastily pushed open the carriage door, stumbled, and tumbled out, nearly falling flat on his face. Inside the carriage, everyone straightened their clothes, composed themselves, and filed out one after another.
Upon entering the Ministry of Magic, they saw Fudge standing there with his belly protruding, and beside him stood a woman dressed in pink, who was none other than Umbridge.
Umbridge wore a gleaming locket around his neck, so bright it was almost blinding in the sunlight. Behind them, two rows of officials, all dressed in black robes and tall hats, stood in a solemn formation.
Harry looked up and met Fudge's gaze. The four pairs of eyes struck each other like iron nails hitting an iron plate, sparks flying.
After a moment of tense standoff, Fudge turned his head away, his face crinkling with wrinkles, and smiled:
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, children."
"I'm sure you all fought tooth and nail for these six precious spots, but don't worry, there will be many more opportunities in the future..."
Before he could finish his rambling, Harry, already impatient, rushed forward and shouted:
"Stop nagging! Stop nagging! We're here to see the world, not to listen to sermons. Just lead the way!"
Fudge's words choked him, his throat bobbing, and he swallowed back the half-full of Mandarin he had been speaking.
He could only glare at Harry, flick his sleeves, and the officials immediately surrounded him from both sides, dragging Harry and his entourage forward.
Harry cursed inwardly: What a cunning move! They've set up so many eyes and ears to surround me, making it impossible for me to move freely. They're really sly!
Surrounded by a large entourage, they descended to the underground level and arrived at the minister's office.
On the wall hung a portrait of Fu Ji, with numerous ribbons of honor lined up on either side, dazzling the eye. On the desk, documents were piled up like a mountain, clearly a scene that had been deliberately arranged.
Fudged his frustration, slapped his forehead, and said, "Oh, kids, don't blame me for forgetting to clear the table. Being a minister is very busy..."
As soon as he started talking, he began boasting about his political achievements, going on and on.
Harry and Neville exchanged a glance. Neville understood, took a deep breath, and stepped forward:
"Minister Fouché, may I... may I sit in your seat for a moment? I just want to experience it."
Fudge smiled broadly. "Of course, no problem, Mr. Longbottom."
Upon receiving the order, Neville strode forward with great strides, but suddenly his foot tripped as if he had tripped over garlic, and he fell face-first onto the table with a cry of "Ouch!"
The documents on the desk fluttered up with a "whoosh," like snowflakes falling and scattering all over the ground.
"I'm sorry, Minister Fookie! I didn't mean to, I'll clean it up for you right away!"
Fudge's face twitched, forcing a smile as he said:
"It's alright, Mr. Longbottom, let me—"
"No! Minister Fouché, I must clean this up for you myself!"
"Alright." Fudge suppressed his anger and took a breath. "Vincent, Louis, you two stay here and help Mr. Longbottom clean up."
Having said that, he led the rest of the group to continue onward.
The group slowly made their way to the fourth underground level, where they saw a large gilded plaque hanging in front of the corridor, which read "Department of Management and Control of Fantastic Beasts".
Fudge smiled again and said, "This is our window to communicate with other non-wizard races. Peace in the magical world depends not only on wizards, but also on the cooperation of other non-wizard races."
"By the way, although we have set up a centaur office, not a single centaur has ever come here. They don't seem to be very happy about being called a 'shared human' with vampires."
Hermione glanced coldly at the officials accompanying her, then suddenly tugged at Fudge's sleeve, adopting a docile demeanor.
"Minister Fudge, may I speak with those non-wizard races?"
Seeing her lovely appearance and gentle demeanor, Fudge couldn't help but smile and say, "Oh, what reason do I have to refuse you, Miss Granger?"
Hermione turned abruptly and went straight to a goblin window. Facing the old goblin in a brocade suit, she said expressionlessly:
"The Gryffindor sword belongs to wizards. You bunch of losers who aren't even worthy of holding a wand will never get your hands on it, not even if you are wiped out."
The demon was stunned for a moment, then flew into a rage.
"What did you say?!"
"Apologize! I demand an apology from you!"
"This is racial discrimination!"
Upon seeing this, Fudge was stunned, his eyes twitching. He hurriedly ordered three more officials to mediate.
The rest of the group descended in silence. Upon reaching the magical transportation office on the sixth level of the underground, Fudge, his voice already weary, forced himself to speak:
"All the Portkeys and the Floo Network were built under the supervision of the Ministry of Magic. If you are interested, you can experience it for yourselves."
"I'll give it a try!"
Simona, the impetuous man, could no longer contain himself. He rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and leaped into the fireplace.
"Thunderous explosion!"
With a loud "boom," the stone fireplace collapsed. Amidst billowing black smoke, Seamus emerged with a charred arm, howling in a hoarse voice.
"Minister Fookie! Help me!"
Fudge's facial muscles twitched, his eyes throbbed like war drums, and he spat out a sentence through clenched teeth.
"Go help!"
Three more officials rushed off in a panic.
The group silently descended three more levels, finally reaching the ninth level, the Mysterious Affairs Department.
Fudge said wearily, "This is a place dedicated to exploring incomprehensible magical phenomena. The staff here are called the Silent Ones because they cannot reveal anything about their work."
Fudge led the group into the Time Hall, where all was quiet except for the numerous time converters scattered throughout, each with its own unique design. Many of them were identical to the one Hermione wore around her neck.
Just as Fudge was stroking his beard and explaining, Harry secretly removed his black gloves and flicked two fingers at Draco.
Draco's eyes suddenly went blank, his lips turned bluish-black, his whole body trembled like a leaf, and white foam gushed from the corners of his mouth.
Do you know what tricks Harry used?
It turns out that in the past six months, he had mastered the art of controlling the snake venom in his arm, achieving a level of consummate skill.
Just now, only a tiny bit of poison was forced out, which was then enveloped in magic and injected into Draco's meridians. Although this tiny amount of poison was not fatal, it was three times more potent than ordinary snake venom, and it gave that fellow quite a bit of suffering.
Upon seeing this, Ron immediately pounded his chest and shouted, "Minister Fudge! Malfoy seems to be having an attack!"
Fudge turned around sharply and saw Draco's miserable state. He could no longer contain himself and blurted out:
"I've had enough!"
"Umbridge! You show them the way! The rest of you, follow me!"
Draco is, after all, a pure-blood nobleman. If he were to cause a death in the Ministry of Magic, he would certainly be charged with negligence.
How can we effectively invite the elders and wise men of Wissengamo to campaign for us during next year's election?
Fudge and the few remaining officials carried Draco away, while Umbridge hurriedly twisted her waist, laughing and screaming obsequiously.
"Don't worry, Cornell! Leave it to me!"
As the footsteps of Fudge and his group faded into the distance, the bronze doors of the Time Hall slammed shut.
Umbridge beamed with a sweet smile. "Don't be afraid, children, let me guide you from now on—"
"Bang!"
With a sharp crack, the woman's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed limply to the ground, like a sack of flour spilled.
It turned out that Ron had already sneaked up behind him, pulled out the Willow Demon Cudgel, and aimed it at the back of his neck for a heavy chop.
Lockhart, watching from the side, turned ashen-faced and said in a trembling voice:
"Wait, wait a minute, I have a question—why are we even doing this?!"
Harry paid no attention to it, simply pushing him to the door to stand guard, while he and Ron flanked Umbridge like a dead dog and dragged him into the shadows.
Harry ripped the pendant off the woman's neck, channeled snake venom into his palm, and black smoke rose up with a hissing sound. The pendant box seemed to writhe and groan as if it were alive.
Ron exclaimed excitedly, "I knew it! The locket really was made into a Horcrux!"
Harry sneered, "That scoundrel Voldemort is indeed cunning, but unfortunately, while the devil may be one foot taller, the righteous are ten feet taller!"
Just as he was about to unleash his power to destroy the object, Salazar, who was in his arms, suddenly shouted:
"No! Harry! Stop!"
"There's something wrong with this locket!"
Harry's heart tightened at the sound, and he hurriedly withdrew the poison from his palm.
"Brother, why do you say that? Could this item be a fake as well?"
The portrait of Salazar floated out from his arms, his eyes fixed on the locket with lightning speed, and he asked in disbelief:
"No, it's true. There are traces of my magic on it."
Harry frowned. "If it's genuine, what's so strange about it?"
"Its sense of time."
"At least a thousand years more."
It turns out that this pendant box was a treasure created by Salazar with his own painstaking efforts, and it was closely related to him. No matter what happened to it, it could not be kept secret.
Now, just by looking at this locket, one can see that the aura of time wrapped around it is so thick that it cannot be dissolved. It doesn't look like an object that is only a little over a thousand years old.
Harry listened as Salazar recounted the strange and peculiar details, his brow furrowing deeply.
He glanced at the neatly arranged time converters beside him, and in a flash, he exclaimed in surprise:
"If what you're saying is true, then Voldemort obtained the Horcrux and used the Time-Turner to send it back a thousand years?!"
"That's right."
Salazar nodded and said, "The only thing I can't understand is why that bastard hid my locket a thousand years ago and then put it back on this woman's neck."
"He could have simply buried my locket somewhere, and no one would ever have found it in his lifetime."
Harry felt a tangled mess in his chest, pondering and pondering but unable to understand, and could only exclaim:
"As the saying goes, 'Where there's smoke, there's fire!' That thieving bird sent this Horcrux back a thousand years; there must be some wicked scheme behind it!"
"Now that I have a time converter by my side, I'll use it to strike at the heart of the enemy, travel back a thousand years, and settle things with that bastard!"
"I'm sorry, Harry, I've already investigated. The time-twisters here have very strict limitations; the maximum time-backward limit is only one year."
Salazar said in a deep voice, "Unless you can find a way to connect all 1,942 time converters together and make them a single unit."
Harry cursed his bad luck inwardly upon hearing this. Just as he was pondering this, he suddenly heard Ron speak from behind him.
"Harry, I think I understand why the Chinese prophet said the water in the gourd could help you."
Harry turned around sharply and saw that the willow wand in his hand was covered with branches that spread out like a spider web, firmly binding the hundreds of time-twisters in the hall.
"Come on, Harry, let's go back a thousand years."
"Destroy that Horcrux!"
P.S.: Happy Mid-Autumn Festival everyone!
(End of this chapter)