Chapter 605: The News Spreads
Chapter 605: The News Spreads
At the start of the holidays, Felix vanished for two whole weeks.
He only communicated with the outside world through owls or two-way mirrors, and his replies were always brief. He would usually end his messages with a note saying, “Focusing on research, please don’t disturb unless it’s urgent.” This drastically reduced his social activities, and even the clever ones who sensed something amiss kept quiet, including those waving Gringotts gold notes, eager to invest in the ‘Future World’ company.
This didn’t mean Felix was holed up in the seventh classroom, cooped up with a bald guy all day.
He believed that a good mood could boost productivity.
So during this time, he went to the Grand Canyon to see the Red River, explored the coral reefs underwater, and might even suddenly appear at a friend’s doorstep. The number of wizards wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. In Britain, for example, out of a population of nearly sixty million, about twenty thousand were wizards. This translates to a total wizard population of around two million, though the number might have some margin of error, the scale remained consistent.
However, when spread across the world, they seemed relatively sparse.
The Wizarding World was not without its famous attractions, such as the Haunted Forest, Ghost Town, and Vampire Community—each offering unique magical experiences. These places, like black markets in different countries, had their own peculiar rules. If you wanted to have a pleasant afternoon, you had to follow them.
For instance, a public Vampire Community had a rule: “No showing teeth when smiling.” Wizard families visiting would find it hard to tell if the vendor selling authentic “Vampire Cuisine” was really a vampire. Felix seriously doubted they were genuine.
“Blood Rose, every bite is aromatic!” a pale, pimple-faced wizard called out enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up when he saw Felix, “Sir, you have excellent taste—no woman will refuse—uh—”
He looked down at Valen, who was wearing a lady’s hat, and coughed violently.
“Can I ask a question?” Felix asked, a golden Galleon dancing on his fingertip. “Do vampires get pimples?”
“We do!” the vendor protested. “You can’t discriminate against us. Although our bodies are a bit special, we—”
Felix pointed to the vendor’s smooth, even teeth, which were exposed due to his excitement. The vendor quickly covered his mouth.
“All items are half off, and you get a tour ticket to the Vampire Duke’s Castle,” the vendor whispered, leaning in and lowering his voice. “They say this activity is very popular among Muggles.”
“...Deal.”
Two minutes later, Felix and Valen each put on a vampire mask. They lacked the courage to try the supposedly “genuine” Blood Rose but found it looked quite nice as a decorative item.
They also wore silver crosses around their necks, each adorned with a suffering vampire with fangs—allegedly a famous figure who invented a substitute for human blood. The vendor had strongly recommended this product.
“It matches your masks perfectly!”
In contrast, Voldemort’s life was far from pleasant—assuming he was aware of his surroundings. Besides having recurring nightmares and undergoing various emotional tests, he occasionally had to endure the scrutiny of a Niffler.
Unfortunately, Voldemort’s will was far stronger than expected, and the research progress was slow, yielding little. Felix had to be careful not to let him die—Dumbledore was at an International Confederation of Wizards meeting, and Felix had to ensure Voldemort remained intact until his return.
Thus, destructive tests were off the table.
In his most recent letter, Felix urged Dumbledore to return as soon as possible.
He revisited an old idea, hoping to flood Voldemort’s mind with overwhelming feelings of remorse. However, this carried some risk, as they hadn’t solved a critical problem: how to ensure the soul fragment separated from Harry without harming him?
After all, they only had two intact Horcruxes left—Hufflepuff’s Cup and Slytherin’s Locket. This meant they had only two chances to get it right.
...
While Felix was cut off from the world, others were not idle.
Aurors and hit squads, dispatched by Madam Bones, conducted large-scale “anti-dark” operations across various regions. Due to a shortage of personnel, members of the Order of the Phoenix joined in. These seasoned temporary hires had more experience and combat skills than the Ministry of Magic’s recent recruits.
Apart from Death Eaters, Voldemort’s spies, and Dark Wizards, some forgotten individuals were also caught in the sweep.
In the north of Britain, where the terrain was elevated, a thin, emaciated wizard perked up at the faint sound outside the cave. He didn’t dare move a muscle. After a long silence, he swallowed hard, thinking it might have been a rat. He leaned his head against the tattered woolen blanket, his gaze vacant—
Boom! The rock at the cave’s entrance exploded, and a blinding ray of sunlight fell upon him.
“Igor Karkaroff!?” a menacing voice called out. Karkaroff shuddered, shielding himself with his trembling hands. Years of isolation had drained his courage. “Don’t, don’t kill me!”
Rough, coarse laughter echoed from outside.
After a few seconds, Karkaroff opened his eyes. He had hidden in the dark den for too long, venturing out only at night, and he was unaccustomed to the bright light. Nevertheless, a flicker of his remaining sanity told him something was amiss—his former dangerous and evil companions would have dragged him out like a dead dog or given him a searing Cruciatus Curse by now.
Shadows moved outside the cave.
Against the light, Karkaroff saw a scarred, grotesque face with those unmistakable eyes. “Mad-Eye Moody?” Karkaroff’s emotions were a mix of joy and sorrow. After all these years, he had fallen into the hands of this old Auror once more.
Moody didn’t waste any words, grabbing Karkaroff by the collar and yanking him out roughly.
“Come and see what I’ve found!” Moody said, a mix of disgust and surprise in his voice. “You won’t believe it—” About seven or eight people gathered around, whispering to each other. “The former Headmaster of Durmstrang?” “He’s still alive?” “This smell… how long has he been hiding?” “Nearly a year. The Dark Lord’s swift downfall gave him a lucky escape.”
Karkaroff grabbed the last person who spoke, his eyes bulging. “What did you say? The Dark Lord—the Dark Lord has fallen? He, he’s dead?”
Frank Longbottom pried Karkaroff’s fingers apart one by one.
“Be grateful, even a despicable coward like you can share in this joy.” He said calmly, “I heard you abandoned your students and fled alone. Here’s a piece of advice: never go back….”
Karkaroff didn’t hear the rest. He stumbled a few steps, staring at his trembling, skeletal hands, muttering, “Dead, he’s dead?” Suddenly, he howled, “Voldemort is dead! Voldemort! Ha! He’s dead! Voldemort! That jerk! Bastard! You made me suffer so much—sob.”
“Has he gone mad?”
“Who cares?” Moody spat on the ground. “We have six more suspected Dark Wizard hideouts to clear today. Remember—”
“Stay alert at all times.” A young voice chimed in.
Moody’s magical eye locked onto the new female Auror, his smile eerie. “You learn fast, Collins. I hope you mean it.” Collins Foley shrank back, saying nothing. Professor Moody was still terrifying. Frank Longbottom gave her a friendly smile.
That evening, the Ministry of Magic hosted a grand celebration banquet internally.
News of Voldemort’s downfall spread in a non-public manner. That night, owls carried the explosive news to countless Wizard families. Urgent letters took flight as dusk approached, becoming part of the festivities over the next few days, soaring across the British sky.
In Devonshire, outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, the Diggory family was having dinner.
A woman’s voice on the radio sang a heartfelt song, nearing the end. Satisfied and full, Mr. Diggory picked up the conversation.
“Your girlfriend, Chang, her parents work at the Ministry. I mean—if you’re not interested in dealing with Magical Creatures, you could try there, see what it’s like—”
“Oh, Dad, we’ve talked about this so many times,” Cedric grumbled.
“But things have changed. The Dark Lord is gone, Ced. I hope you realize that: the Ministry is no longer a den of danger. You don’t have to worry about constant attacks. See? It’s become a place where good kids should go….”
Mrs. Diggory shot her husband a look. Mr. Diggory shrugged. “Alright, let’s change the subject—what about that yearbook? They call you a Puppeteer… is that a nickname?”
“It’s a name I chose for my future work,” Cedric protested, slightly annoyed.
“Interesting, Ced. You’ve uncovered a hidden quality in the Diggory family—humor…” Mr. Diggory trailed off as Mrs. Diggory ground her heel into his toes. “Ouch—do you want me to come with you?”
“I have plans with Chang,” Cedric whispered.
“Really, how improper—ah, I mean, how nice… at least I don’t have to worry about the Diggory family’s legacy.” Mr. Diggory pointed at the radio. “I wonder how many Pureblood Families have been called in for questioning these days. They’re already not very numerous, and now….”
“The news segment is coming up. Celebrations have spontaneously erupted across the country. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic staff, we remind everyone to maintain secrecy. If you can delay your fireworks until late at night and leave quickly before Muggles notice anything unusual, we would be very grateful. Otherwise, you may receive a fine of thirty Galleons….”
The same voice echoed not far away in the Weasley's Burrow.
"Are there really that many people causing trouble?" Ron asked.
"Indeed, the work at the Ministry of Magic has increased tenfold", Mr. Weasley said, looking exhausted as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "People get carried away and forget themselves, leaving read newspapers and half-eaten snacks everywhere. In Cornwall, a few Muggles camping in the wild found a half-empty bottle of floating fruit punch... In short, everyone is swamped."
"Let's hear some good news", Mrs. Weasley said sternly. "Your father has been working overtime these past few days."
Fred and George Weasley exchanged a glance.
"We've opened a new shop in Diagon Alley", Fred whispered. Mrs. Weasley, hands on her hips, glared at the twins for a moment before reluctantly saying, "Fine, if you must... couldn't you wait until your grades are in before making such a decision?" she added despairingly.
Fred and George Weasley shrugged.
"Mom, time waits for no one. Hogsmeade is too small an audience; our Dark Lord product line has a lot of potential!"
"Right, we're planning a 'Remembrance Festival' with products that can make people laugh and heal the wounds of battle", George's voice grew softer as Mrs. Weasley's face darkened, but he still managed to say the most important part quietly, "So we're planning to move out for a while."
"Bang!"
A large pot of bacon slammed onto the table.
The children at the table all leaned back in unison. Mr. Weasley put on his glasses and said gently, "Molly, the children are growing up; they have their own lives."
"I know, it's just—" Mrs. Weasley sniffled and began to cry. Mr. Weasley quickly jumped up to hug her, but she only became more agitated. "The family is getting smaller every year... I was so upset when Bill and Charlie left, and Percy doesn't come back as often now. And now Fred and George are leaving too..."
Fred and George Weasley, whose names had been called, fidgeted in their seats, as if sitting on a cushion of poorly transfigured Horned Slugs.
Fred hurried to explain, "Mom, we'll come back, it's just that we're busy right now..." He desperately signaled to Ron and Ginny, but they were united in their disapproval, giving the twins a stern look.
He quickly shifted the blame, "If you feel the house is too empty—Mom, there's something you should know: Ginny has a boyfriend—"
"Ahhh!" Ginny screamed.
"—It's Harry", George finally got the chance to finish.
Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley stood frozen for a moment before turning stiffly to look at Fred and George Weasley. "If this is a joke, one of your pranks, I swear—" Mrs. Weasley stuttered.
"It's not a joke", Fred said seriously.
All eyes turned to Ginny, whose face turned as red as her hair. She screamed and ran out of the room.
The house fell silent, except for the radio by the kitchen sink, dutifully broadcasting the news.
"—The Ministry of Magic has not yet released more information. It is known that Albus Dumbledore and Felix Hep are suspected to be involved in the sudden downfall of the Dark Lord. Many speculate that the two most powerful wizards of the age dealt the fatal blow. However, the portraits of Mr. Heap at St. Mungo's deny this, admitting that he only did some auxiliary work..."
"Harry was involved too", Ron said, breaking the silence in the kitchen. "Anyone want to hear me tell the story again? I mean, in a way, I was there. If any reporters want to document this history, they can't avoid me..."
Meanwhile, the two people mentioned in the conversation—Felix was visiting his Muggle friends Jim and Rebecca, while Harry was lazily having dinner with the Dursleys. The emotionless news broadcast from the television and the stifling July air made the boring meal even more tedious.
"—Recently, the dangerous criminal Tom Riddle has been apprehended. The public need not panic; he will face a fair trial..."
Harry's head snapped up.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
