Hogwarts: Don't call me Wandmaker

Chapter 159 Cornelius Fudge

The Leaky Cauldron.

Silen skillfully sat down in a corner of the bar and waved to Old Tom.

"The usual," he said, "but this time, double the portion."

Before Harry could figure out what this "usual" meant, the pub owner had already placed two bottles of butterbeer and two plates of cookies in front of them.

"You'd be the only one who'd order cookies at a bar," old Tom complained.

He didn't originally have cookies in his shop... This is a bar, you know, where all sorts of wizards come and go, and the first thing they say is... "Back in the day, when I ate roasted dragon meat with my drinks."

In this situation, suddenly serving a plate of cookies would be somewhat inappropriate.

Every time Sirius came, he would order cookies. Old Tom refused several times, but it was no use. Finally, he got so annoyed by the questioning that he baked a batch for him.

Surprisingly, Xilun now orders nothing else; every time he comes, it's just butterbeer and cookies.

If that were all, Old Tom wouldn't say anything; after all, baking a batch of cookies isn't difficult.

But he didn't expect that Xilun would bring people with him, and that it was the boy who had survived the ordeal.

What if other people see this and order cookies too... This is a bar, not Madame de Patif's Tea House.

The thought of having a plate of cookies on every table in the shop made Old Tom's forehead throb... The image was too terrifying for him to bear.

But Xilun doesn't care about that.

He ordered cookies simply because he didn't want to eat anything else with a strong garlic flavor... Although Old Tom's cookies were just average, at least they tasted normal.

Siren sat there, one arm resting on the table, listening to several wizards shouting and yelling not far away, occasionally eating a biscuit and taking a sip of butterbeer.

Harry listened for a while and discovered that the man was talking about his experience of slaying giants.

He felt a sense of familiarity… Oh right, it was Gilderoy Lockhart, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from last year, who always liked to boast about how great things he had done. But in reality, he was just a pretentious bum.

However, Xilun listened with great interest.

After finishing the cookies, Celen also finished his butterbeer.

“That’s how I relax,” he said, turning to Harry. “The wizards at the Leaky Cauldron always have something new to say that I’ve never heard before, but giants and dragons are always in their stories. It would be nice to have something different.”

Harry was completely numb.

He never expected that what Xilun did every day would be so...unusual.

Just like his ring.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but glance at Xilun's index finger again, and then, unsurprisingly, shivered.

By noon, fewer and fewer wizards were bragging in the Leaky Cauldron, and Siron and Harry prepared to return to Diagon Alley.

But before they could even set off, someone arrived—it was the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, who seemed to have come specifically to see Harry.

"How do you feel here?" He sat down next to the two of them, a warm smile on his chubby face. "Or do you prefer living with your aunt and uncle?"

“No,” Harry said. “I’m perfectly happy living in Diagon Alley.”

He suddenly felt a little unreal.

The Minister of Magic must be a very important person, just like Headmaster Dumbledore.

Yesterday, Minister Fouché let him stay at the Leaky Cauldron bar and told him not to worry about punishment, saying it was just him bragging about his aunt and nothing serious.

Harry thought that was the end of it, but to his surprise, the man came to ask him how his accommodation was today.

But to be honest, Harry wasn't quite used to this kind of enthusiasm.

"Minister, is this all you came here to tell me?"

“I guess so,” Fudge said, his expression becoming a little unnatural.

Just then, someone walked over and helped him change the subject.

"Oh, it's Minister Fudge!" The newcomer was tall and thin, like a bamboo pole, just the opposite of Fudge.

Before he even reached Fudge, he quickly bent down and bowed. From Xilun's perspective, his upper body was actually parallel to the ground.

That's truly amazing.

"It is an honor to meet you here, Minister."

“Me too,” Fudge said impatiently. “You are…”

“Barr Wilson,” the man said. “I’m a striker for the Ministry of Magic, searching Diagon Alley for the person who used magic illegally off-campus and obtained an illegal Portkey.”

Upon hearing his words, Harry's face turned red, and he stammered, "I... I'm the one you're looking for, the one who violated the rules by using magic."

"What did you say?" Barr Wilson turned his head, seemingly surprised that the person he was looking for had actually appeared.

“No, it has nothing to do with you,” Fudge said. “He’s looking for someone else, someone who did something even worse than his aunt who was always bragging about herself.”

Fudge happened to know about this, and when it came up, he couldn't help but say a few more words.

"That person not only violated the rules by using magic off-campus, but also escaped using an unregistered Portkey when the Ministry of Magic investigated."

“This is outrageous!” Barr Wilson suddenly spoke, startling everyone. “Minister, rest assured, I will definitely bring that person to justice!”

"Ah, thank you for your hard work," Fudge said casually.

His only thought now is to catch Black, who escaped from prison, not just a student using magic outside.

If it weren't for that unregistered key, he probably wouldn't even remember it. He's only bringing it up now to change the subject.

After all, how could a Minister of Magic personally handle such a trivial matter?

“This has absolutely nothing to do with you, Harry.” Fudge gave Harry another smile. “We all know you’ve already admitted your mistake.”

Harry's eyes flickered.

In fact, he initially came to Diagon Alley to withdraw money from Gringotts and then run away... As for where to run to, he hadn't decided yet when he met Fudge.

“So…” then, Celen suddenly asked, “Does the person you’re looking for live in Diagon Alley?”

"It's hard to say." Fudge pinched the brim of his hat.

"There are too many wizards coming and going in Diagon Alley every day, it's easy for them to escape again. I guess old Tom wouldn't pay attention to who uses the fireplace every day. That person must have known this, which is why he put the key here."

"But it's also possible that he lives in Diagon Alley, or even in the Leaky Cauldron."

Fudge glanced at Cyril, as if he had just noticed there was someone else next to Harry, "Well, who are you?"

“Sirlen Ollivander,” Sirlen said. “I live in Diagon Alley and I’m still a student. Should I have the batter check me out?”

“Olivendine…” Fudge’s mouth moved, “Who is Garrick Ollivander to you?”

"He is my grandfather."

“No wonder your name sounded familiar.” Fudge’s attitude toward Siron suddenly became warmer, and he even showed the gentle smile he had when looking at Harry.

"So do I need to find a hitter?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course not, how could you be the kind of bad student who doesn't follow the rules?" Fudge said with a laugh.

"Alright, I have to go now, I have a ton of things to do."

Fudge stood up and glanced at Harry again.

"Remember, never go into the Muggle world on your own, understand?"

Only after receiving Harry's affirmative answer did he nod and leave the Leaky Cauldron.

……

(End of this chapter)