Chapter 489: Testimony of Death

Chapter 489: Testimony of Death

"Professor, how are you—"

"I'm fine." Felix struggled up from the ground, Harry quickly fetching him a chair to sit. He closed his eyes, panting lightly. The three looked worriedly at Felix; the professor seemed to have recovered from a dreadful state earlier, but not entirely—his face, neck, hands... occasionally turned into intricate runes, then reverted to normal skin the next second, repeating this process.

"I'm not quite familiar with this condition. To avoid alarming others, I'll stay put for now... You all go find Headmaster Dumbledore and explain what happened to him."

Felix opened his eyes, startling Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The professor's light blue pupils were replaced by numerous runes, like small, shifting orbs within his eye sockets. After speaking, he shut his eyes again, his body starting to flicker once more.

The three exchanged glances.

"Clearly, the professor needs time to master this new power. Someone has to stay here during this time," Hermione suggested.

"I'll go, you and Ron stay," Harry decided after a brief pause. "You both are injured—"

"As if it wasn't you who got hit by several piercing curses," Ron smirked.

Harry returned a smile. "At least my legs are intact, and besides—" He hesitated, not entirely sure. "Towards the end, I felt like Voldemort's curses weren't affecting me as much. It was as if... my body was gradually adapting to the harm caused by the curses..."

Ron and Hermione stared at him, skeptical.

"Harry, you better see Madame Pomfrey. I heard enduring multiple piercing curses could have serious side effects—" Ron uneasily suggested.

"You think I'm losing it?" Harry widened his eyes. Ron looked away from their eye contact, muttering softly, "It wouldn't hurt to confirm at least."

"Perhaps it's... um... the protective magic in Harry's blood," Hermione cautiously worded, "Let's not jump to conclusions. Honestly, with Dumbledore not here, I'm a bit anxious." She glanced carefully at Felix, her hand covering the pocket where she kept the ring he entrusted to her.

Earlier, the professor claimed the ring contained prohibited items, handing it over temporarily to avoid scrutiny from the Ministry of Magic. She hadn't thought much about it then, but now, out of danger, she began pondering: Did it really warrant such caution for a routine investigation?

Harry nodded, heading towards the door. As he prepared to draw back the tent's curtain, Hermione halted him.

"Wait, Harry—"

He turned, seeing Hermione looking at him earnestly.

"You know what to say, right?"

"The Time-Turner," Hermione reminded.

Harry suddenly realized. Yes, Hermione had gone back in time, altered history... no, according to the materials he recently read, using the Time-Turner had only two outcomes:

Either it fails—resulting in backlash for the user and a threat to the 'time' from the past to the present;

Or it succeeds—the user's actions during time travel become part of history, like a predetermined event. Hermione explained that what seemed destined was the result; if they succeeded, and if they failed, it would lead to severe consequences, akin to Eloise Mintumble's case.

How should he say it? Harry thought deeply and quickly found a solution. It was quite simple, omitting Hermione's use of the Time-Turner. As for how the professor managed to "come back from the dead," he didn't know. Maybe it was a special kind of magic he wasn't meant to know about?

Suddenly, a detail struck Harry. Barty Crouch Jr. obviously recognized the Time-Turner and wanted to expose the secret... so the professor chose to eliminate him right away? Harry felt a repulsion towards killing but immediately chastised himself; this was war, he reminded himself, and besides, Crouch had done so many wrongs. Professor Moody's loud recital of Death Eaters and their deeds in class was vivid in his mind...

He had never realized how close the war was to him. Harry felt oddly sentimental. He still had another month before he turned fifteen.

The night sky was filled with stars, a looming maze castle to his left, silently standing in the darkness. To his right, a high arc-shaped stand, figures moving all around.

He saw two burly figures, much larger than the rest, almost as if they had been enlarged by an Engorgement Charm. They had to be Hagrid and Madame Maxime. Not far from them, Harry spotted a tall, thin silhouette, translucent silver beard swaying in the cool night breeze... Dumbledore. Harry's heart calmed as he made his weary way towards him, step by step.

Fudge's eyes widened like saucers.

"Yes! Dumbledore, we saw Voldemort; he returned months ago! He orchestrated tonight's conspiracy, and—Harry suddenly remembered something—Yaxley! He altered the Cup's portkey destination!"

The approaching crowd erupted again, spreading further. Hundreds gasped collectively.

"Are you sure?" Fudge barged forward, grabbing Harry's collar, spittle flying. "Are you sure? What about Harp? What did Felix Harp do?"

"He saved us!" Harry retorted in frustration.

"Is everyone alive?" Fudge demanded, his nostrils flaring.

Harry didn't want to answer Fudge's question, but he saw the fearful hope in the eyes of the Weasleys and Grangers. So, he declared loudly, "Yes! Ron and Hermione are alive, they're both fine! Except for that Death Eater, I don't know if he perished in the aftermath of the battle."

Mrs. Granger screamed and fainted, Mrs. Weasley fared slightly better, sobbing loudly, their loved ones soothing them.

"Madam Pomfrey, please come here," Dumbledore said firmly, grasping Harry's shoulder, causing Fudge's grip to loosen, "Some here need treatment. Miller, attend to the Grangers."

Professor McGonagall nodded.

Hagrid squeezed in, followed by Sirius and Lupin, finally reaching Harry.

"Are you hurt? Harry, are you hurt?" Sirius tried to glean something from Harry's appearance, but he was covered in dirt, impossible to decipher.

"It's nothing," Harry whispered, "just a few curses..."

"What! Those are curses!" Sirius exclaimed, "Why didn't you say so earlier?" He scolded Harry, who felt warmth despite Sirius' outburst, then Sirius attempted to lift him.

"Let me do it." Hagrid's gruff voice intervened, cradling Harry in his arms.

"No, wait," Harry struggled in Hagrid's embrace, "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Harp and Ron, Hermione are still in the tent, Professor Harp... he's, uh, tending to injuries, doesn't want others disturbing..."

"I understand," Dumbledore said, "I'll set up another tent nearby."

Hagrid, Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore, and the others headed towards the temporary tent, the crowd silently following, all seeking a definitive outcome... Fudge remained, his expression hesitant.

At that moment, the Auror who left returned, whispering to Fudge. His eyes widened in astonishment, his mouth opening and closing several times.

"Wait, Dumbledore!" he called out.

"Fudge," Dumbledore, showing impatience for the first time tonight, said, "You've seen their condition—they need treatment, not interrogation by the Ministry. If you want the truth, perhaps stay tonight, and tomorrow morning we can—"

"No, Dumbledore, you better hear this," Fudge appeared perplexed yet relieved, pointing at the Auror, "Repeat what you just learned."

Under everyone's gaze, the Auror stammered, "Just got word, Yaxley's been found, he, he's dead—before he died, he told us... he said it's all Felix Harp's conspiracy, he's the mastermind!"

>

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