Chapter 65: Hurry to Hogwarts and Fetch Dumbledore!

"I heard from a friend at the newspaper office that Professor Morris broke into the Nott family estate and began a bloody massacre, and now he is trapped inside the castle."

"Every single person in the Auror Office has been dispatched."

"All on-duty Hit Wizards in the southwest region are rushing toward Devon."

"This matter has already spread everywhere outside!"

Sean Phillips spilled out all the information he knew in one breath.

After finishing, no longer caring about anything, he walked quickly to the bar, picked up a bottle of alcohol from behind the counter, threw his head back, and drained it in one gulp.

Before the old man could say anything, a series of hurried footsteps sounded from outside the door.

One, two, three...

In less than a moment, the Hog's Head Inn grew gradually crowded, the air filled with an atmosphere of tension and anxiety.

Without a doubt, these people were Morris's most loyal followers.

"We have to do something!"

A burly wizard in the crowd shouted loudly, his face flushed with intense emotion.

"That's right! The professor could never be the kind of person to carry out a massacre for no reason! He must have been framed!"

"This is definitely a conspiracy targeting the professor! A blatant conspiracy!"

"If this kind of thing is pinned on the professor, public opinion alone will plunge him into an abyss of inescapable doom... Not to mention that the professor is still out on bail!"

"Then what should we do now? Rush straight to Devon?"

For a moment, everyone discussed animatedly.

Finally, the middle-aged man who had previously taken the initiative to invite "Rita" out stepped forward.

He held immense prestige among this group of wizards. The moment he spoke, the crowd quickly quieted down, all eyes focusing on him.

"Everyone, please listen to me!"

"Right now, the professor's life is hanging by a thread, and we are also about to face our most dangerous moment!"

"No matter what, the professor needs us. We cannot let the conspiracies of those parasites drag the professor into the abyss!"

"Therefore, we must not lose our heads."

"We must take action with a plan so that we have a chance to save the professor!"

With that, Yuri Dure took a deep breath, scanning every face before him. Seeing the tension and determination in their eyes, his tone grew even firmer.

"This matter is not that simple. We cannot confront the Aurors and Hit Wizards head-on; that will only bring disaster."

"We must strike from multiple fronts simultaneously to disrupt their attention and buy time."

Dure held up three fingers, gesturing in the air to capture everyone's full attention.

"Our plan is divided into three paths."

"First path: We send people to the Ministry of Magic to create chaos, stir up enough commotion, and distract the Ministry's attention, preventing them from concentrating their resources to deal with the professor's crisis."

"Remember, during this process, we must not use force."

"Otherwise, it will simply give others a pretext, plunging the professor into an even more unfavorable situation."

Following that, Dure paused and continued.

"Second path: We expand our actions to densely populated areas such as Diagon Alley, Godric's Hollow, and Ottery St. Catchpole to convey the truth of the professor's framing to the wizarding public and win their support."

"This will not only cause more people to stand on the professor's side and pressure the Ministry of Magic, but it will also prevent the public opinion controlled by the pure-blood families from taking root first and spreading further."

"We need their voices! We need their support!"

"Third path," Dure paused again, turning his gaze to the corner of the bar where the reporter who had interviewed Morris not long ago sat—Sean Phillips. "We will contact reporters, especially those reporters who dare to expose the truth, and go directly to Nott Manor to pressure the Ministry of Magic."

"Their presence will effectively deter the Ministry from making a move against the professor lightly, and at the same time, it will help us publicize the details of the entire incident and clear the professor's name!"

The gazes of the wizards in the bar instantly converged on Sean, piercing him invisibly like sharp arrows.

Sean suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of weight and mission surge into his heart.

Thus, he patted his chest, signaling his agreement to Dure and those around him.

For a moment, the atmosphere in the bar grew even tenser, Dure's words acting like a spark that ignited a raging fire in everyone's heart.

"So, does everyone understand?" Dure scanned the crowd one last time. "We must act quickly and execute in separate directions. Any problem on either side could directly affect the professor's life and death. Therefore, proceed with utmost caution."

A few seconds later, he was met with a sea of resolute gazes and silent nods.

"Then, disperse and execute. Remember—we must never fail again as we did a year ago."

Dure's final words fell like a heavy hammer upon everyone's heart.

Immediately afterward, the crowd stood up one after another, moving smoothly and swiftly as if rehearsed countless times—

A moment later, silence returned to the Hog's Head Inn. The door was gently closed, and the last wizard vanished outside.

The entire space seemed drained of all vitality, leaving only the old man standing behind the bar, mechanically polishing a glass that would never truly be clean.

For a long time, the old man stopped what he was doing and let out a deep sigh.

His gaze slowly drifted beneath the bar, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, as if recalling something.

After a moment of hesitation, he slowly crouched down, his fingers groping beneath the counter for a few seconds until they touched... a poker?

Oh, no, it was a long-sealed wand.

He gently grasped the wand, as if holding onto a long-forgotten memory.

Standing up, his gaze gradually turned resolute, and he walked toward the door.

Upon reaching the entrance, the old man paused, looking back at the newly repaired signboard.

After a moment of silence—

He raised his wand, the tip emitting a soft glow that shone directly onto the Hog's Head Inn signboard.

In an instant, the connection between the signboard and the wall loosened slightly, and the signboard slid down slowly, securely caught by the old man.

He gently leaned the signboard against the wall, then turned and walked toward the end of the cobblestone path, his figure gradually receding until he completely disappeared.

...

On the other side, Fudge and his entourage quickly arrived near Nott Manor through a temporarily established Floo Powder network.

On the way to the estate, he had been pondering one question—how to maximize his own interests through this incident.

To be sure, helping out was not done for free.

It wasn't just the assistance; subsequent legal support and public opinion backing would also require his presence.

Without a doubt, this was a lucrative business.

However, reviewing the entire incident, the only thing he could not understand was why those pure-blood families were in such a desperate rush.

As for that fellow Morris appearing here and the story behind the whole affair, he had zero interest.

...

Purgatory.

A living hell.

The ruined castle before his eyes could no longer be described with simple words.

Fudge felt that the only appropriate expression was these four words—a living hell.

The air was thick with an intense, foul stench and the smell of blood, making it almost suffocating.

Debris was scattered everywhere, rubble and fragments piled into heaps, and occasionally severed limbs or mangled, bloody corpses could be seen. The castle walls had been scorched black, and the floors were caked with dirt and blood, stripped of all vitality.

On the path approaching the castle, Fudge's footsteps grew more cautious, every single step carefully weighed.

However, just as he took a step forward, a strange sensation suddenly came from the sole of his shoe—a wet, soft, and somewhat sticky texture.

He frowned, looked down, and his complexion instantly turned pale.

Right beneath his foot was a cluster of scattered intestines, their twisted shapes and bright red blood smeared across the ground, nearly blending into the surrounding ruins. That mass of intestines should have been part of a living person, but at this moment, it had become part of this scene of death, decaying alongside this shattered world.

Fudge instinctively pulled back his foot, his heart hammering violently, his stomach churning.

He desperately suppressed the urge to vomit rising in his throat, but the wet and cold, sticky sensation underfoot remained deeply imprinted in his mind, refusing to fade.

Was this truly caused by Morris?

To be honest, when a matter becomes absurd to the extreme—

It instead breeds doubt, making people hesitant to believe it easily.

Fudge could in no way reconcile the mental image with the frail man he had seen in the Wizengamot courtroom last year.

How could that Morris, who allowed himself to be captured without a fight in Diagon Alley, be connected to the mastermind behind all of this?

He couldn't help but question whether everything was truly as it appeared on the surface.

Therefore, discounting the possibility of a pure-blood family hoax, he had reason to suspect that the Nott family had provoked someone they shouldn't have, and upon finding themselves unable to handle it, summoned him while conveniently framing Morris for the crime.

Aside from that, was there any other convincing reason?

Seeing a large group of Aurors and Hit Wizards approaching, the fierce battle unfolding deep within the ruins abruptly ceased.

A group of wizards hurriedly ran out from the ruins, quickly coming to a halt and gathering behind Vane and Lucius.

Yes, their mission was complete.

At this moment, they no longer wished to face that fellow. Whatever happened next, the remaining matters were entirely up to the Ministry of Magic.

Fudge frowned and waved his hand, signaling Scrimgeour to lead the Aurors forward.

Scrimgeour frowned, seemingly wanting to say something, but before he could speak—

Suddenly, the air seemed to congeal, the surrounding silence heavy enough to make it almost impossible to breathe.

Fudge's gaze snapped toward the depths of the ruins as a figure slowly emerged.

That person looked as though he had walked out of a sea of blood. His originally pitch-black robes were now stained deep crimson by blood, and his entire body radiated a suffocating aura.

He wore a ludicrous mask, yet no one dared to underestimate him.

Behind the mask, that pair of eyes no longer belonged to a human, holding only a chilling, blood-red expanse.

"This person... is mad."

This was what everyone thought at that very second.

The next moment, the man lowered his head slightly, a sinister smile curling the corners of his mouth as he slowly raised a hand and pointed at Fudge's group.

Scrimgeour also seemed to sense the change in the atmosphere, his expression shifting as he waved his hand to signal the Aurors to prepare for defense.

However, just as Fudge intended to step forward, his heart gave a violent leap, nearly bursting from his chest.

The man's eyes locked with his, and that bone-chilling murderous intent seemed to pierce his soul, striking the deepest parts of his inner being.

Fudge instantly felt a wave of coldness rise from the soles of his feet, freezing him almost completely in place.

He instinctively wanted to retreat.

"Fall back!" Fudge practically roared, stumbling backward in a panic while keeping his eyes fixed on Morris's figure, his heart hammering frantically against his ribs.

At that moment, he had no doubt whatsoever—

If he stayed here a moment longer, he would be the next one to die!

Scrimgeour hesitated briefly, seemingly debating whether to push forward, but upon seeing Fudge's action, he followed without hesitation.

The Aurors trailed closely behind, rapidly forming a defensive line while stepping back cautiously.

It wasn't until Fudge ran haphazardly outside the estate that his breathing finally leveled out slightly.

Yet, the sense of dread lingering in his mind refused to dissipate.

Looking back, the man's figure was still faintly visible amidst the ruins, as if he might pounce at any second and swallow them whole in a single bite.

Fudge took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain composure, though his complexion remained ashen.

Turning around, Lucius and Vane had also caught up by now, but their expressions differed—shock and fear intertwined across their faces.

A surge of anger welled up in Fudge, and without concealing it, he lashed out loudly at Lucius and Vane: "What on earth are you doing?! Whose mess is this anyway?!"

Pointing toward the figure in the distant ruins, his voice grew sharper: "Is that masked fellow really Morris? You know that far better than I do!"

Lucius and Vane frowned in unison.

In truth, upon witnessing the horrific state of the scene and that person's figure, both had also doubted whether this violently volatile individual was truly the Morris trapped in the basement just moments ago.

Though strong, Morris had never exhibited such frenzied bloodthirst and overwhelming might.

Furthermore, if this person were Morris, he wouldn't have just been trapped by them in the basement.

Yet, when those bloodshot eyes met their gazes, both men's hearts sank, and they quickly discarded all doubt—

This person was indeed Morris.

Because... aside from Morris, no one else wanted them dead this badly.

However... how could they tell Fudge such a reason without any evidence?

Thus, the two men once again chose silence in unison.

Fudge, however, didn't care at all about what the two of them were thinking (terrified out of their wits). He widened his eyes and continued questioning: "What on earth are you trying to do? I cannot risk the lives of these Aurors for the private affairs of your pure-blood family! If that woman Bones finds out about this blunder, she will definitely seize the opportunity to drive me out of office!"

At this, Lucius finally spoke up, his voice carrying a warning tone: "Fudge, calm down. We all know how dangerous the situation is, but this isn't just one person's problem. The most important thing right now is how to deal with the situation ahead."

Consumed by rage, Fudge fired back: "Deal with it? Your 'dealing with it' is standing there waiting for that man to slaughter his way over?!"

Facing the thoroughly terrified Fudge, Lucius remained expressionless, looking somewhat helpless.

He was silent for a moment, lowered his head in thought, sighed slightly, and whispered a few words into Fudge's ear.

A few seconds later—

Fudge's tightly furrowed brows instantly relaxed, a flash of pleasant surprise blooming in his eyes.

He turned around and barked a fierce order to an Auror standing beside him.

"That's right! Move out immediately and head to Hogwarts at top speed to fetch Dumbledore!"

[PS: Chapters 26, 59, and 60 have been slightly revised to make them more logical and compact, without affecting the subsequent plot.]