novelhk Chapter 159 The Decree: Harry Says He's Seizing Power
Chapter 159 The Decree: Harry Says He's Seizing Power
Chapter 160 The Decree: Harry Says He's Seizing Power
Picking up where we left off, Ron had a stroke of luck; his wand and the Whomping Willow combined to create a handy weapon.
The willow branches were coiled and the roots were intertwined. When you held it in your hand, you could faintly hear a burning sound. It was truly a treasure.
Harry stepped forward, clasped his hands in a salute, and said with a smile, "Congratulations, brother! This weapon seems to possess a spirit, truly a divinely ordained opportunity!"
"In the past, you often practiced staff techniques with me, such as the Five Elements Eight Trigrams Staff, Shaolin Staff, and Coiling Dragon Staff. You have long since mastered their essence. Now, this Ruyi Willow Demon Staff is just like a golden saddle for a fine horse, or a precious sword for a hero. It couldn't be more fitting."
Ron chuckled incessantly, then recited a spell, shrinking the willow-shaped magic staff to the size of a needle, which he gently tucked behind his ear. He then turned to Hermione and said:
"Hermione, you must take me with you next time you travel to China."
"I need to thank that prophet in person."
Hermione didn't answer, but instead placed her jade-like fingers between her lips, her eyebrows furrowing like spring mountains, and murmured:
"This shouldn't be... The prophet clearly told me that this drop of water would help Harry..."
Ron shrugged, unconcerned. "Perhaps he was wrong. Look at Professor Trelawney, I've almost never seen her make a correct prediction."
After overhearing their conversation, Lupin exclaimed in surprise, "This drop of water was a gift from a Chinese wizard to Harry? Are they that generous?"
"I dare say this water must be an extremely rare potion ingredient."
Hermione was annoyed and scratched her head. "He only said that Harry was destined to be with them, but he's clearly never even seen what Harry looks like."
As the group was discussing, they suddenly heard a commotion behind them, with the voices of three or five people ringing out in unison.
"Ugh! Dumbledore! Is this the result of you taking charge of Hogwarts?!"
"Merlin's duodenum! Who did this?!"
"I have never seen such a brutal dark wizard!"
Harry and the others turned around and saw Fudge and Dumbledore standing in front of Peter Pettigrew's two corpses.
Scrimgeour led dozens of Aurors, each wielding a wand, as if facing a formidable enemy.
Harry, displeased at the sight of Fudge, strode forward and addressed Lockhart, who was hiding behind Scrimgeour:
"I clearly instructed you to invite Brother Scrimgeour and all the Auror sisters and brothers. Why have you brought in these irrelevant people out of nowhere?"
Lockhart's face flushed red, and he hurriedly rushed to Harry's side, whispering in his ear:
"Oh, Harry, it's not my fault. I didn't know Minister Fudge was coming either."
"But I dare say he's definitely trying to make a good name for himself—look, he even has a reporter from The Daily Prophet behind him."
"I know this kind of person all too well."
Before the two had finished speaking, Black came rushing over. The Aurors, upon seeing him, were terrified and immediately drew their wands.
Fudge, already cowering behind Dumbledore, shouted excitedly, "Don't move! Sirius Black! You're under arrest!"
Harry flew into a rage upon hearing this, leaping forward to stand in front of the crowd and shouting:
"What a joke! The real culprit who killed my parents thirteen years ago was none other than Peter the Short, the little guy I cleaved in two!"
"First, my brother Hagrid was murdered, and now you've wronged my adoptive father, causing him to suffer for thirteen years in Azkaban. What crime have you, you corrupt official, committed!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of cameras snapping pictures filled the air.
Upon hearing Harry's words, the group of Aurors behind Scrimgeour loosened their grips and lowered their wands.
"So he's innocent after all?"
"I was wondering who could split someone in two with a single stroke, and it turns out it was Harry."
"That was a really powerful strike..."
These Aurors were whispering amongst themselves, and Blake's hair stood on end as he listened, feeling as if he had stumbled upon the White Impermanence in the snowy night.
His face showed surprise and doubt, and he leaned close to Harry's ear and said, "Um, Harry, you didn't use the Imperius Curse on them, did you?"
Hearing the Aurors' comments, Fudge felt a vein throbbing in his temple. He turned and erupted in anger, pointing at Scrimgeour and yelling:
"Scrimgeour! This is the man you trained?!"
The Aurors, taken aback by the veiled insult, hastily raised their wands again, but the tips no longer pointed at Black.
"Sigh... Harry... you always manage to come up with something new..."
The old headmaster took out a glass bottle from his sleeve, tilted his head back and drank a dose of the magic potion that cured his headache. He then took another bottle and sipped half a cup before he could catch his breath.
"Harry, is this the big thing you've been doing at school all year?"
Harry crossed his arms and stepped forward. "Professor, you are wise! The hatred for one's parents is irreconcilable. If I were to pretend to be deaf and dumb, I would have no face to live in this world!"
Fudge was speechless upon hearing this, but he couldn't say anything more.
It should be understood that avenging one's relatives is a matter of course, and even the government cannot stop it.
Seeing this, Scrimgeour cleared his throat. "Harry, I trust your judgment. You're not the kind of person who would harm the innocent."
"But Sirius Black has to go back to the Ministry of Magic for an investigation—you should understand what I mean."
Harry knew the principle that "nothing can be accomplished without rules," and was about to sell a noodle to agree when he heard Fudge call out again.
"That's right! He has to go back to Azkaban; he confessed to it himself thirteen years ago!"
Blake exclaimed hastily, "Then I'll file an appeal now!"
Upon hearing this, Scrimgeour felt as if the sun was pounding wildly, and hurriedly asked Dumbledore for half a bottle of potion, which he then gulped down.
Meanwhile, Harry was already consumed by rage and malice. He gripped the ring knife tightly, ready to draw it and behead his opponent.
Hermione, who knew Harry's temperament best, quickly pressed down on the back of Harry's hand and whispered urgently:
"Don't do that, Harry, now is not the time."
Harry gritted his teeth, "Sister, stop trying to persuade me. If we follow my advice, today is the perfect day to rise up in rebellion!"
Hermione felt a lump in her throat. After racking her brains for a moment, she hurriedly said, "But we need a legitimate reason."
"Mr. Black hasn't cleared his name yet. If you kill Fudge, people will only think you're the third Dark Lord."
Hermione spoke softly and gently for a long time before Harry finally snorted, loosened his grip on the knife hilt, and said:
"Allow you to detain my godfather for now. If you wish to surrender to Azkaban, you must first speak to this dagger of mine!"
"That's no problem!"
Scrimgeour hurriedly said, "Minister, since Sirius Black has requested an appeal, he indeed should not be allowed to enter Azkaban again."
Dumbledore sighed, "Cornell, don't be so petty. Please look up Article 542 of the Wizarding Code."
When Fudge saw everyone trying to persuade him, he felt as if a wad of cotton was stuck in his throat. He had no choice but to swallow his resentment and nod haphazardly in agreement.
He felt that his title of minister was now meaningless, and that everyone around him was someone who would offend him. A nameless rage surged up to his head, and he was determined to find a reason to vent his anger.
He immediately drew his wand, pointed it into the air, and shouted, "Dementor, come!"
A cold wind swept across the ground, and twenty or thirty soul-devouring ghosts, like wisps of clouds obscuring the moon, drifted over eerily.
The bitter cold of midwinter was already biting, and this attack by the malevolent energy made Fuji shiver like a leaf in the wind, his teeth chattering.
But he still insisted on maintaining his official demeanor, puffing out his chest and glaring at Harry.
"Go and take Sirius Black away!"
Unexpectedly, the sound swirled a few times in the cold wind, and those ghostly figures floated motionless in mid-air, like clay or wooden sculptures.
Fudge's heart skipped a beat. Forcing down his panic, he yelled again, "Didn't you understand me? Take Sirius Black away!"
"take away!"
The shout was so loud and desperate, but the soul-devouring ghost remained rooted to the spot like a withered tree stump, its black robe not even fluttering.
Harry waved his hand. "Haven't you all heard what the Minister said?"
A sudden gust of cold wind arose, and the soul-devouring ghosts, as if they were soldiers on military orders, all floated up behind Blake and formed ranks.
Harry glanced at Fudge and chuckled:
"Minister, please don't be offended. These fellows have spent so much time in school that they only know the school rules, not the law!"
(End of this chapter)