Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 392 The Master's Mission

After catching his breath, Mr. Major, still shaken, finally came to his senses.

The experience was so dramatic that for a moment he even thought he was going to die.

Those dark wizards were truly terrifying; they could actually transform into a thick black fog and break into 10 Downing Street. If it weren't for the Minister of Magic arriving here tonight with his godson, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

“These dark wizards…” Mr. Major asked, looking up after recovering, “Are all the ones who escaped from Azkaban here?”

As he spoke, Mr. Major glanced at the dark wizards.

As a result, Bellatrix suddenly spurted at him, startling Mr. Major so much that he took a step back.

“Behave yourself!” Harry kicked Bellatrix in the face.

He wasn't just kicking randomly; there was a personal grudge involved—he knew that the Death Eaters who led the torture of Neville's parents were none other than the dark witch standing before him.

His crazy appearance, coupled with his crazy heart, made him utterly wicked.

After carefully comparing and confirming, Sirius said to Mr. Major, "There are only six. There are still seven people who have not been caught, but I think it's only a matter of time."

"Then what about the Aurors you mentioned before..." Mr. Major asked tentatively.

“Of course we’ll arrange it here, and Buckingham Palace as well.” Sirius smiled and said, “After all, we also need to prevent attacks from other Death Eaters. If they were to take control of the Muggle world’s political figures, the consequences would be unimaginable.”

"And what about the others?" Mr. Major swallowed hard. "If those Death Eaters were to launch another attack on our world—what you call the Muggle world—I'm afraid the next election..."

Sirius somewhat understood what Mr. Major meant.

He doesn't care whether Death Eaters launch terrorist attacks; the key question is whether these attacks will affect his votes.

For a politician, votes are the most important thing. As for everything else? Who cares?

"And what about Voldemort?" Mr. Major asked hesitantly. "If I'm not mistaken, he seems to have escaped... What should we do if he comes back?"

“Voldemort is not a problem,” Sirius said with a smile. “In fact, he has been on the run for more than ten years.”

Mr. Major was clearly shocked by this news, which was something the previous Minister of Magic, Fudge, had not told him.

Of course, Fudge may have told his former prime minister about this, but his former prime minister—that is, Margaret Thatcher—was too tight-lipped, and Mr. Major did not know about the existence of the wizarding world until Fudge came to him.

“I will inform you as soon as I have any news,” Sirius said gently to Mr. Major. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

As he spoke, Sirius walked to the side and took out a crystal ball.

Mr. Major craned his neck to look in that direction, and Sirius seemed not only unconcerned about Mr. Major seeing the crystal ball, but even as if he was deliberately showing it to him.

Then, Mr. Major witnessed a scene that shocked him for ten thousand years.

A phantom image of a person appeared on the crystal ball.

“Percy,” Sirius said to the phantom, “I need you to send a squad of Aurors to 10 Downing Street, London. Yes… the Death Eaters attacked here just now. Harry and I happened to be here and captured six dark wizards. Now have the Aurors come and take them back. Also, arrange for another squad of Aurors to protect 10 Downing Street and Buckingham Palace.”

After giving his instructions, Sirius hung up the phone.

When he looked up, he met Mr. Major's curious gaze.

"If I may be so bold as to ask, what is this?" Mr. Major asked curiously.

"This?" Sirius waved the crystal ball in his hand and said with a smile, "Oh, this is a communication crystal ball developed by Mr. Flamel—you know, the legendary alchemist, Nicolas Flamel, the one from France."

Mr. Major's mouth dropped open.

“Nico Flamel? You mean he’s still alive? But he… wasn’t he from the fourteenth century?”

Mr. Major certainly knew this name; in fact, many British Muggles were very familiar with it.

After all, there are legends about Mr. Lemaître in the Muggle world as well.

In Muggle lore, Monsieur Flamel was a Frenchman and a famous 14th-century alchemist. His most famous contribution was supposedly the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, the alchemist's stone, which he used to successfully turn mercury into gold.

Therefore, he is also regarded as the founder of European alchemy.

In addition, it is said that he and his wife could live forever using the magic stone.

From the early 18th century until the 20th century, reports of Nicolas being alive surfaced intermittently. The most famous claim is that in 1761, the Nicolas couple were seen at the Paris Opera.

Most importantly, in 1612, someone claimed to have compiled a book from Nicolas Lemaître's manuscripts: "Explanation of the Incomprehensible Symbols Carved by Nicolas Lemaître on the Arch of the Fourth Chamber of the Cemetery of the Santo Niño in Paris," which was translated from French into English by Newton, who was keen on alchemy, at the end of that century.

How could any member of the British upper class not know about a man whom even Sir Nicholas Bull admired?
"Of course he's still alive." Sirius chuckled as he placed the crystal ball on the table and said to Mr. Major, "Wizards generally live much longer than Muggles, and a wizard like Mr. Flamel... oh, I remember there's a legend among Muggles that he created the Philosopher's Stone, and it's true. He created an elixir of immortality using the Philosopher's Stone and has lived to this day."

"This...this is also..."

Mr. Major was truly shocked this time. Extending lifespan—what a temptation that must have been for a Muggle politician like him!

Few can resist the allure of immortality, especially high-ranking officials and nobles.

Not everyone is as magnanimous as Liu Bang, able to calmly face death. The vast majority of high-ranking officials and nobles are reluctant to part with the wealth they have worked hard for in their lives.

Perhaps, only when facing death is the gap between the rich and the poor smallest.

But as a respectable man, Mr. Major was not in such a hurry to ask Sirius Black to introduce him to Mr. Lemaître. Instead, he kept the matter to himself and planned to ask Sirius Black to get to know him better before bringing it up.

Sirius made a good impression on him, perhaps because Sirius was far superior to Fudge in appearance, or perhaps because Sirius did not treat him with arrogance or haughtiness. In any case, Mr. Major was willing to communicate with him more.

“This crystal ball seems much more convenient than our cell phones,” Mr. Major said with a hint of envy, then steered the conversation back to the crystal ball, “So, can ordinary people like us—the kind without magic—use it?”

“Sure,” Sirius smiled and said, “but it will be much more expensive than the regular version. You know, after all, Mr. Lemaître also has to spend a lot of time and effort developing this extra version, doesn’t he?”

Mr. Major was intrigued.

“Of course,” Sirius Black said, seizing the opportunity. “To facilitate communication between us, the Ministry of Magic will be sending some of these crystal balls to 10 Downing Street.” “That’s wonderful,” Mr. Major said happily.

Shortly afterward, the Ministry of Magic personnel arrived at the outskirts of 10 Downing Street.

After speaking with the guards, the wizards entered the Prime Minister's residence.

They could have just come in, but since they were on Muggle territory, they had to follow Muggle rules.

Sirius Black didn't want to give the impression that wizards were capricious and arbitrary; this wasn't just about him personally, but about the entire wizarding world.

After confirmation, the Death Eaters captured were: Antonin Dolokhov, Bellatrix Lestrange, Labastan Lestrange, Rodolphs Lestrange, August Lukwood, and Walton McNeil.

"Looks like you two are having a really bad day." Sirius chuckled as he glanced at Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, who were husband and wife in name only.

Even Sirius Black knew about their past.

There are no secrets that stay hidden forever. People might not spread other secrets, but gossip...

Everyone knows that Bellatrix and Voldemort have an ambiguous relationship.

This Rodolphus Lestrange... well, how should I put it?

It's very green, with a Pampas grassland on its head.

It's truly remarkable that Rodolphus remained so loyal to Voldemort; perhaps... he had some kind of fetish?
The true master's task belongs to him.

Rodolphus didn't say anything; in fact, with his tongue gagged and his throat choked, he couldn't say anything at all.

"What do you plan to do with them?" Mr. Major asked curiously. "I mean—well, how do you ensure they won't escape again?"

“Our punishment for escaping from Azkaban is a Dementor’s Kiss,” Sirius replied. “You can think of it as the Muggle equivalent of a vegetable—is that what you call it?”

“Yes, a person in a vegetative state,” Mr. Major nodded.

“After being punished like this by the Dementors, they become vegetative,” Sirius said in a way that Mr. Major could understand.

“Wow.” Mr. Major was somewhat surprised. “This is so…so humane.”

“The vast majority of wizards are kind-hearted and no different from ordinary people,” Sirius said. “Therefore, I think the Ministry of Magic and 10 Downing Street need further communication to fully understand each other. What do you think?”

"I couldn't be happier," Mr. Major said happily.

“Well then,” Sirius said, glancing back at the dark wizard being escorted by the Aurors, “we are about to leave. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Major.”

Mr. Major smiled, but it didn't seem very natural.

It's clear he's still shaken by the Death Eaters' ambush of Downing Street today.

After offering him a few words of comfort and leaving a group of Aurors for Mr. Major to arrange, Sirius Black took Harry and left.

“I still have to go to the Ministry of Magic to deal with their issues,” Sirius said to Harry. “You should go back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for now.”

After parting ways with Sirius, Harry didn't rush back, but instead went to Privet Drive in Little Wheeking.

This old house holds his memories from the first eleven years of his life—though the memories weren't exactly pleasant, they still carry those memories.

No. 4 Privet Drive was not put up for sale by the Dursleys. Even though they are now successful, they have not forgotten the old house. Every summer, the whole family returns here to stay for a few days.

Clearly, Harry's arrival today was quite opportune; there were people inside the house.

He stepped forward and knocked on the door.

A moment later, the door opened.

"Harry?!"

The person who opened the door was none other than Harry's cousin, Dudley.

Dali looks completely different from when he was a child. He is no longer that chubby little boy with a big appetite, but a strong and healthy young boy.

The muscles beneath his shirt bulged, and Harry immediately remembered the letter his cousin had written to him at Christmas, saying that he had won the Southeast Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Championship.

"Hi, cousin," Harry greeted him with a smile. "Long time no see."

“It’s been a long time—it’s been two years, hasn’t it? Come in.” Dudley happily invited Harry into the house to sit down.

Harry accepted Dudley's invitation and went inside, only to find Dudley alone; the Dursleys were nowhere to be seen.

"Where are Aunt Penny and Uncle Vernon?" he asked curiously as he sat on the sofa with Dudley.

“They’ve gone on vacation,” Dudley said nonchalantly. “I don’t really want to go out with them this year. I want to go back to the old house and have some peace and quiet. — Seriously Harry, why do I feel like life isn’t as fun as it used to be? Ever since we got rich, I haven’t felt very happy every day.”

Harry glanced at Dudley, speechless for a long time.

"What's wrong?" Dali asked, puzzled.

"How long have you had this condition?" Harry asked with a dark expression.

"Illness?" Dudley jumped up from the sofa. "Oh my god, am I sick?"

"I mean, when did you pick up this habit of being so full of yourself?" Harry rolled his eyes. "People like you who are happy in life but still feel empty, we usually call them 'being so full of yourself'!"

"Oh?" Dudley took a while to process what Harry meant: "So, you're insulting me, right?"

“How could I, my dear cousin?” Harry said with a forced smile. “We’re cousins, how could I possibly insult you?”

Then, he secretly added to himself, "Dali is thinner now and is no longer that pig wearing a wig, but it feels like he's turned his already limited brain into muscle."

(End of this chapter)