Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 259, Section 258: Scrimgeour's Worries and the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries

"Fire elementals are soaked in water, water elementals are put in fire, and there are all sorts of other strange and indescribable ways. They are simply torturing the elementals—and they don't even need to hold back, because elementals are everywhere, and you can just catch them even if they die."

“I never imagined I would hear such agonizing screams from a creature that’s almost as natural as a natural phenomenon… those Muggles are just horribly cruel!” Scrimgeour clenched his fists and growled, “If they can do this to a race that can also speak and possesses intelligence, then what about us?”

"If they knew about the existence of wizards, and that there was a race in this world that looked very much like them but possessed abilities they could never have imagined, how would they treat the wizards?"

The biggest difference between wizards and Muggles on this issue is that wizards know that there are many races in the world with a considerable degree of intelligence, and many of these races have their own civilizations. Therefore, they have long been accustomed to this state of multi-race coexistence and regard it as the most ordinary thing.

But Muggles are different.

For a long time, Muggles have believed that humans are the only intelligent race in the world. Therefore, when one or more unknown races suddenly appear, they will instinctively be wary or even hostile.

“I’m sure, Headmaster Potter!” Scrimgeour said through gritted teeth, “Those ordinary wizards, those wizards who can’t even use a cleansing charm properly, are no match for Muggles. And there are just too many Muggles. They’ll always find an opportunity, and they’ll always find an opportunity!”

“Calm down, Rufus,” Harry reassured him. “Things aren’t that bad yet.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Scrimgeour changed his tune, taking a deep breath to quickly calm himself. “I think it must be because I saw too much cruelty at that Muggle military base… I’m sorry, it was… more evil than many dark wizards’ lairs. Those things haunt me like a nightmare…”

“I understand,” Harry nodded slightly. “But Rufus, you have to admit that there are also evil dark wizards among wizards who take pleasure in torturing and killing Muggles.”

"And there are differences between Muggles. Just as the majority of wizards are still ordinary wizards, the majority of Muggles are also ordinary Muggles. They study, work, and die. To be honest, apart from being able to use magic, there is no difference between the lives of ordinary wizards and ordinary wizards."

"And what wizards can do with magic, Muggles are gradually being able to do with their technology, and perhaps the gap between the two will become smaller and smaller in the future."

“I know,” Scrimgeour sighed, “but that’s a long way off, at least they can’t do it now, can they? I was Minister for Magic in 1992, so all I have to think about is what I had to face in 1992.”

“I agree with your plan, Harry,” Scrimgeour said earnestly. “I also believe it’s necessary to engage with people other than the Muggle Prime Minister, but the difference is that we shouldn’t show them our weakest points. Instead, we should be tough and make them aware of our strength. We can’t let them know too much about us, because if they know too much, then they will realize—”

Scrimgeour's increasingly impassioned voice suddenly stopped.

"Realize that we are actually very weak?" Harry calmly uttered the words Scrimgeour wanted to say but never did, a fact that wizards had always been unwilling to admit.

Throughout history, only the weak have needed to hide and conceal their whereabouts.

To be honest, Harry was quite satisfied with Scrimgeour becoming minister. The new minister's personality reminded him somewhat of Granny Magassa; both were tough types who would never back down.

And if they encounter any problems, these people will be strong and brave enough to take responsibility... at least they won't run away like someone like Fudge.

They are still quite reliable.

If Fudge were discussing the issue with Harry right now, given Fudge's personality, he probably would never admit the weakness of the wizarding community, or he would refuse to bow down for the sake of his authority.

“Don’t worry, Rufus,” Harry reassured him. “You can’t think of Muggles as a single entity. There are hundreds of countries in the Muggle society. They are not one entity. Even among themselves, there are wars and conspiracies. They cannot unite.”

“Muggles are just like wizards; most of them don’t really have any control over the situation and can only passively endure it,” Harry continued. “In other words, whether or not Muggles go to war with wizards in the future is actually decided by the higher-ups on both sides. Does that make any sense to you?”

"Does this mean... we can easily assassinate their prime minister?" Scrimgeour asked tentatively, pondering the question.

“Not just the Prime Minister, but all their leaders,” Harry corrected. “Muggles can’t stop wizards from Apparating, so a wizard skilled in Apparition can easily kill them. In fact, isn’t the reason you and the Muggle leadership have been at peace for so many years because of this threat? At least until they find a way to counter this assassination, Muggle leaders will not choose to go to war with wizards.”

“I understand,” Scrimgeour nodded. “Those who hold power and enjoy benefits are more afraid of losing everything they have than ordinary people… Well then, the British Ministry of Magic will cooperate with you to organize this Triwizard Tournament. I will go and discuss it with the Muggle Prime Minister in detail.”

“Thank you,” Harry laughed. “Your work should be easier if you don’t have to worry about hiding the magical world anymore, well, it must be very busy at first.”

“That would be wonderful,” Scrimgeour said with a smile. “Many people in the ministry haven’t had a proper vacation in months. They’ll love this news.”

“I think so too… but Rufus, I must remind you of something beforehand: what if Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, or more precisely, what if the French or German Ministry of Magic disagrees—?”

“Then we’ll do it ourselves,” Scrimgeour scoffed. “Who cares about the French opinions?”

On this island nation far from the mainland, Britain is once again leading the way.

....................................

Harry—Harry didn't go anywhere.

He was at Hogwarts, proctoring the exams with Madam Macchiban.

According to Ms. Machiban, although the results will not be available until the holidays, the practical exam results show that this year's two batches of candidates are above average compared to previous years.

Perhaps it's because so many things have happened at Hogwarts in the past two years that have made the students feel a sense of crisis, or perhaps they've been spurred on by those shaman apprentices; in any case, the students have been working quite hard in their studies these past two years.

"Finally—it's vacation time!!!"

With his hands raised high, Ron knelt on the grass outside the great totem, looking as excited as a prisoner just released from jail.

"What should I do? I think I filled in an option wrong. I think I mixed up the twelve uses of dragon blood. Damn it! I probably really chose the wrong one!" On the other hand, Hermione was frantically flipping through a thick book next to Ron, her eyebrows furrowed. She was checking the answers. She would breathe a sigh of relief when she got them right and scream in frustration when she got them wrong, just like a mental patient.

As for Neville, he's completely out of the mood for grades and is currently playing with Tooth.

"Oh, Hermione, can you stop being such a spoilsport?" Ron, getting fed up with Hermione's rambling answers, turned and complained, "It's vacation time! Summer vacation has already started! And no matter how you go over the answers, you can't go back and retake the test now!"

“At least I’ll know how many points I can get!” Hermione retorted defiantly.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Ron shrugged. “I just don’t understand you… Hey, Harry! You’re so despicable! Why didn’t you come to the exam!”

“Because I am the headmaster,” Harry replied frankly. “The headmaster doesn’t need to take exams.”

“Damn it, you escaped this time,” Ron muttered. “And you even escaped the grueling pre-exam study session… You should have been with us. Good heavens, you can’t believe how many books Hermione forced Neville and me to read every day.”

“At least this way you can have decent grades for the summer,” Hermione said bluntly. “Unless you want Mrs. Weasley to nag you for the entire summer!”

“No need for that,” Ron said, shrinking back. “That’s all in the past anyway. We should have fun now! Any plans for the holidays, Harry?”

"Work, all sorts of things at school, preparing for the new semester and stuff," Harry chose to keep the Triwizard Tournament a secret from his friends as a surprise... and also to prevent Ron, that big mouth, from spreading the news everywhere beforehand.

“Oh, I thought…” Ron’s expression clearly showed disappointment.

“There’s nothing we can do, Ron. Harry is different from us now,” Neville said as he walked over with Babbage. “He has a lot more important things to worry about, just like Dumbledore back then.”

“It’s alright, actually I was thinking of inviting you to my other home this holiday,” Harry said, laughing. “Well, to be honest, I just wanted to invite you to help out with some work. Interested in exploring an old wizarding house?”

"A guest?"

"Working?"

"The Wizard's Old House?"

Ron and his two companions each grasped the key point.

“That’s right. Sirius isn’t a student or a professor, so he can’t live at Hogwarts forever. So I talked to him about it and we’re going to clean out the Black family’s old house during this holiday so he’ll at least have a permanent home,” Harry explained. “According to Sirius, it’s all dusty and dilapidated now, and it’s full of all sorts of mischievous little things that sneak in when no one’s around.”

“That was his home to begin with, I mean—he’s the only one left in the Black family now, isn’t he? Who else is more qualified to inherit it?” Ron said excitedly, “I’m going! Harry! A real pure-blood manor! God knows what great secrets we’ll discover there!!”

"Well, I can go, but I have to go home first. I haven't seen my mom and dad in a long time," Hermione said hesitantly.

“Me too,” Neville said, raising his hand. “I have to go back to Grandma first, then we’ll contact the owl.”

“Ah, if you don’t mind, I can ask Mom to come and help,” Ron suddenly thought of something. “Even without reading Lockhart’s lousy books, Mom is very skilled at housework spells. Hmm, she’s very good at dealing with those little things.”

“Of course,” Harry said with a smile. “Actually, I’ve also considered asking Mrs. Weasley for help. And don’t worry, I’ll let you know in advance by owl.”

“Okay, it’s settled then,” Hermione said quickly.

“Oh, right, Neville,” Harry suddenly turned and said, “do you remember what I promised you?”

"What?" Neville looked back blankly.

“Your parents,” Harry said softly, “could you take me to see them?”

"What?!" Neville's eyes widened instantly. "Could it be—could it be?!"

"Don't get excited, I just want to check it out first," Harry quickly said. "I've made some progress in my research on spells recently, so I wanted to take a look first."

“Of course! Of course!” Neville exclaimed excitedly. “Right now! No, whenever you’re free—anytime is fine with me!”

“Let’s do it now,” Harry said with a smile. “I’ll take you there.”

"it is good!!"

Harry Apparated directly to the entrance of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries with Neville. After explaining their purpose to an ugly doll in front of the window, Harry, led by Neville, walked through the glass window.

Even in the lobby at the entrance, you can see all sorts of patients suffering from bizarre magical injuries and illnesses, such as a guy with fire coming out of his head who is sitting there chatting with people and doesn't seem to be in any pain at all.

Perhaps because this hospital is the only large-scale comprehensive magical injury hospital in the UK, there were many people inside, including various people inquiring about ward numbers and visiting people on different floors, as well as healers wearing dark green robes moving among the crowd.

Harry's face was already quite well-known, and he was recognized as soon as he entered the room. Many strangely shaped patients gathered around and excitedly greeted him.

(End of this chapter)