Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 985 Parade
The once tidy apartment looked as if it had been the site of a small explosion. The coffee table lay against the wall, chairs and tables were overturned, coffee was splattered on the sofa, and broken pieces of bowls, plates and teacups were scattered all over the floor. A dinner knife was deeply embedded in the door frame.

The woman of the house held her crying child, cowering in terror in a corner of the living room, while her husband, Soren Minden, the deputy head of the Memory Deletion Command, faced the uninvited visitors with a deathly pale face.

"What...what do you want?!"

Soren Minden's voice trembled with fear and anger, his fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically.

Opposite him, Lyra, whose hair color and facial features had been altered, waved her wand, causing a reasonably intact chair to leap behind her, and smiled as she gestured:

“Please sit down, Vice Minister Mingden. Please relax, I mean no harm, I just happened to think of something… Before you became a vice minister who didn’t need to be on the front lines, it seems you never really mastered the Oblivion Spell, did you? Sometimes you erased Muggle’s memories too thoroughly… turning them into idiots.”

Soren Minden's face stiffened: "I...I just accidentally..."

"Really?" Lyra tilted her head. "How many times did it by accident? Five times? Ten times? Do you remember clearly? I seem to remember... that the Forgetfulness Charm was actually the spell you mastered best back in school?"

She leaned forward, staring intently into Minden's eyes, and asked with a smile, "You did this on purpose, didn't you? You hate Muggles, so much so that you don't even want to kill them, you just want to turn people into idiots and take pleasure in their suffering, right?"

Minden's wife looked at her husband in disbelief. He was covered in cold sweat, his lips tightly pressed together, and he didn't make a sound.

Leila continued, "Do you remember who cleaned up your messes back then? Who accepted your flawed reports, and who polished them to the point where you wouldn't be held accountable?"

“Think about it again…” Lyra drawled, her tone meaningful, “What if this truth became the front page of tomorrow’s New York Ghost, along with the list of victims and their tragic ends?”

Mingdeng's pupils suddenly contracted, and all the color drained from his face.

What will happen? He will be ruined and lose everything he has now!
Even those wizards who also hate Muggles will stand on moral high ground and righteously condemn him.

A fierce glint flashed in Minden's eyes, and his fingers trembled slightly, as if about to strike. Before he could even touch his wand, he saw the black-robed wizard standing at the door turn slightly and look at him.

All courage to resist vanished instantly.

Even now, as a wanted criminal, Gilbert Fontana, the headmaster of Ilfamoni, still possesses an aura of power and magic that Ilfamoni cannot contend with.

His legs buckled and he knelt down, pleading desperately, "What...what do you want? I'll cooperate, please, spare my wife and children..."

Leila's smile deepened, carrying a sense of cat-and-mouse satisfaction:

“My dear Sauron, I never intended to harm your family. I just… needed a little help.”

"Well... first, tell me everything that happened in Congress after I left, the more detailed the better. Then, I'll need a little bit of assistance from you..."

……

The streets of New York were bustling with people in the afternoon, and this throng of people brought a sense of security to the fugitives.

Leila changed into an inconspicuous suit, transforming herself into an old woman who looked to be at least fifty years old.

Minden's family didn't have any spare compound decoctions—of course, most people wouldn't need them anyway—but they did have a bottle of anti-aging medicine that would last for three days, which was enough for Leila.

Driven by some secret sense of pride, Fontana did not use any aging agents; he simply grew his beard and hair much longer, making him look like a free-spirited old artist.

"Clinch Barrett..."

Leila chewed on the name, her tone filled with undisguised contempt:
"That good-natured guy in the Accident and Disaster Management Department? Ha! A timid, spineless coward who only knows how to smooth things over! If it weren't for Grindelwald secretly helping him out, could he have kept the situation under control?"

"Are all these people in Congress blind? How can they not see such a simple fact!"

Fontana glanced at the old woman beside him and could understand Leila's anger and jealousy perfectly.

She had worked tirelessly for many years to become the president of the Magic Congress, putting in unimaginable effort, only to suffer a complete defeat at the last moment.

And what about Clinch Barrett? He effortlessly reaped the rewards simply because he was utterly useless.

How could Leila possibly accept this outcome so easily?

Perhaps due to extreme anger, the familiar fire in Fontana's eyes rekindled, and even her previously unsteady steps quickened considerably.

"Hmph, but that's fine too, this is precisely our opportunity!"

She pondered, "Grindelwald is old, and might die in a few years! No matter how powerful the UMNO is, once the people find out that the newly elected Speaker of Parliament is backed by that terrible devil, how will the fooled people react?"

"And what about those guys in Congress who weren't completely purged and still have their own agendas? What will they think?"

"Even the UMNO shouldn't think they can control everyone! Otherwise, how could they have failed back then?"

Fontana wasn't as optimistic as her, but a glimmer of thought returned to her dejected eyes.

"We cannot directly attack the core; the risk is too great, and we have no chance of winning if we confront it head-on."

His voice was hoarse as he analyzed, "Start from the periphery, especially middle and lower-level officials. Infiltrate slowly, accumulating information and connections."

Leila nodded readily: "You're right, sir. I need to be more cautious and can't rely entirely on past intelligence. Some of these guys may have already been bought off by the UMNO."

Fontana added, "The Magic Congress won't react that quickly. The people chasing us are probably the Ulquiorra Party. If necessary, we can go abroad to hide for a while and come back when things calm down."

Perhaps hoping to inspire more tolerance, Lyra softened her stance and nodded, saying, "Alright. Let's go to Echo Alley first to buy some necessities, especially potions and a spyglass, and then gather some information from the lower levels..."

The two reached a new understanding, as if they had passed through the depths of despair, and began to take positive action to improve the situation.

Given the deadly traps they had encountered in the previous remote locations, the two tacitly abandoned the hidden entrances to Echo Alley and chose to always mingle in the densely populated areas of Muggle, using the noisy crowds as their shield.

As they strolled down the street, a low, mournful yet powerful brass band played. Immediately afterward, a large group of people emerged from the street corner and approached them.

This was a large street protest group, numbering over a hundred people. Some wore furry animal-shaped bodysuits, some had parrot-like face paint, and others had tortoise shells made of cardboard boxes hanging on their backs. They held aloft various handmade signs and chanted slogans in unison from time to time: "Protect wild animals!"

"Stop developing virgin forests!"

"Our planet, our responsibility!"

"Humans are not the only masters of the Earth!"

Passersby stopped to watch and take pictures out of curiosity, and some, caught up in the atmosphere, spontaneously joined the end of the line. The whole street suddenly became even noisier and more crowded.

Fontana frowned at the group of strange-looking people and asked in a low voice, "What's that? A Muggle...carnival?"

Leila squinted at her for a moment, then laughed mockingly:

"Oh, it's just a self-indulgent little trick. Muggles are always like this, constantly expanding their territory and driving other creatures to extinction, while at the same time putting on ridiculous clothes, holding up signs, and shouting that they want to 'protect the earth'."

Fontana snorted, offering no comment, but his gaze remained equally indifferent.

Wizards are also victims of the ever-expanding territory of Muggles. They can hardly imagine that one day these guys might also dress up in such ridiculous attire and shout along the streets: "Protect the wizards!" "Protect magical creatures!"

Protection is a gift from the strong to the weak, but wizards never consider themselves weak.

Not wanting to attract any attention, the two retreated to the window of a shop on the side of the road, intending to wait for the noisy procession to pass.

However, the crowd was looser and more mobile than expected. As the chants grew louder and more passersby joined in, the edge of the line spread out like ink dropped into water, and before they knew it, Leila and Fontana, who were standing on the side of the road, were also swept up in it!
"Ouch!"

"Feel sorry!"

"Don't squeeze!"

The sounds of pushing and shoving and collisions continued to be heard.

Leila cursed under her breath, trying to steady herself, but was swept away by the crowd. Fortunately, someone in the procession noticed an old lady and kindly pushed her into a nearby shop, preventing her from falling and being trampled.

Fontana, who looked quite strong, didn't receive the same treatment. Passersby bumped into him from all sides, some offering a mumbled "sorry," while others impatiently said, "Get out of the way! Are you blocking the road like a potted plant?"

In this environment, using the Ironclad Charm to separate passersby would undoubtedly look very strange. Fontana resisted the urge to use a large-scale spell, pushing through the crowd and trying to move away from the parade.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his back, as if he had been pricked by something. Fontana was instantly enraged, secretly gripping his wand, ready to teach this reckless fellow a lesson.

Then, as he turned around, he saw a pair of panicked yet clear eyes, like those of a fawn.

"I'm so sorry, I'm really so sorry!" The girl dressed as a rhinoceros hurriedly covered the "horn" on her head with both hands and said in a panic, "I didn't mean to!"

The clear, melodious sound was like that of a lark, attracting the attention of the surrounding chickens.

The sudden increase in attention made Fontana nervous. He suppressed his impatience and waved his hand, saying, "It's nothing, just be careful!"

All he wants now is to get out of this chaos as soon as possible.

The girl, feeling as if she had been granted a pardon, mumbled her thanks, then quickly slipped back into the crowd and disappeared.

Fontana withdrew his hand and continued trying to meet up with Leila against the flow of people. But after taking only two steps, he suddenly felt a strange dizziness, followed by a sharp pain in his breath, as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat, or as if a cold needle had pierced his heart through the spot where he had been hit!

His vision blurred and his legs went weak. He had just shakily reached for the antidote when someone bumped into his elbow. The crystal bottle clattered to the ground and was kicked away by another passerby.

Fontana had no choice but to instinctively reach for the wand.

—Just one spell…just one Explosion Charm…to attract the attention of the Magical Congress, and even if I go to jail, there's a chance of being saved…

"Pfft!"

The surrounding chickens acted as if they didn't see the suffering old man there. Someone bumped into him from behind with surprising force, and Fontana fell to the ground.

"Ha...ha...help...help me..."

He lay on the ground, breathing heavily, reaching out his hand for help.

But the crowd still seemed not to "see" him; some stepped on his calf, and some even stepped directly over his stomach.

Fontana mustered his last bit of strength and grabbed one of the passersby's ankles. Just as he was about to exert force, countless sharp spikes seemed to appear in his palm, instantly piercing his hand and causing him to involuntarily let go.

He vaguely heard a soft laugh coming from above, or perhaps it was just a hallucination in his drowsy state.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

The crowd surged past him, countless moving feet forming a continuous, rushing river that flowed close to the edge of his body.

Not a single pair stopped, not even a moment of hesitation.

Those feet lifted and fell, marching in the direction of the parade, as if he were just a stone that had accidentally fallen on the road, something to be walked around without a second thought.

In the instant before his consciousness was about to plunge into darkness, Fontana suddenly felt as if he were not a person, but a piece of insignificant waste that had been stripped away. The chill that surged up from the bottom of his heart was even more vivid than the pain that was gradually spreading.

"Boom!"

His arm fell to the ground and was kicked away.

(End of this chapter)