132: Ministry of Magic’s apology

132: Ministry of Magic’s apology

Harry was sent to the hospital wing, but the matter wasn't over yet.

Dumbledore hurried down, staring at the Dementors trapped in the Patronus water prison. In his eyes, John saw an anger he had never seen before.

The "White Lord" was truly furious.

One hundred Dementors charging into the Quidditch pitch—what a terrifying disaster that could have been.

"I need to find Cornelius Fudge. John, please keep these Dementors under control," Dumbledore said to John.

John nodded, though some of the more daring students were trying to approach.

Feeling a bit of a headache, John used his wand to control the water prison, attempting to move it elsewhere.

Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall joined in to help. Their eyes were filled with both fear and anger—how dare the Ministry gamble with the safety of the students?

"I will definitely be filing a complaint against those people!" Professor McGonagall's face was pale as she spoke fiercely. "Mr. Wick, thank you for stepping in and spotting the danger in time."

Professor Flitwick, his voice thin but trembling with excitement, praised John greatly. "Absolutely brilliant, John Wick! A Patronus combined with a water prison—what a genius idea."

As the Charms professor, Flitwick was immensely proud.

"Where should we move this thing to?" John asked, somewhat concerned. "I mean, I might not be able to move it very far."

John's magic crystal was continuously depleting, and this thing wasn't a Philosopher's Stone—once used up, it would become useless. The materials for one magic crystal alone cost hundreds of Galleons, which made John feel a sharp pain in his wallet.

Professor McGonagall suggested placing the Dementors in the dungeons—not the Slytherin one, but Hogwarts' own underground chambers.

The Dementors struggled, trying to escape, but the three of them managed to subdue them and send them to the dungeon.

After everything was done, John's arm felt a bit sore.

He glanced at the ring on his right hand.

Earlier, he had secretly absorbed quite a bit of the curses from the twenty or so Dementors. The black patterns on the ring were now even more pronounced.

Without drawing attention, he silently retracted the black threads that had been attached to the water prison. The Dementors all appeared listless.

Professor McGonagall simply assumed it was the result of the suppression from the Patronus Charm.

Later that evening, people from the Ministry of Magic rushed over, led by none other than Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

An old acquaintance was also present—Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Office.

They hurried in, and John could tell from Fudge's pale face that he wasn't doing well. A trembling handkerchief was wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

Fudge was clearly terrified.

The Dementors were not to enter the School borders. He had never expected the Dementors to invade Hogwarts—a school backed by every wizarding family in Britain.

If the wizarding families found out about this incident, they would likely unite to protest against Cornelius Fudge as the Minister for Magic.

Fudge was scared. He had grown accustomed to the power he had worked so hard to obtain.

John watched as Fudge hurried into the headmaster's office, and shortly after, John received a notice asking him to come to the office as well.

Upon entering the office, John saw Dumbledore's face—this was the angriest and most serious he had ever seen the headmaster.

That night, after leaving Hogwarts with Fudge, they soon saw Fudge being urgently called back to his office.

Not long after, the sound of Fudge's furious outburst and things being smashed echoed from his office.

It must have been Lord Johnny Silverhand making his move.

Scrimgeour was quite pleased. He had been fed up with Fudge for a long time. After all, who wouldn't want to be in charge, rather than constantly being overshadowed by someone else?

Harry hadn't woken up yet. He had fallen from a height of at least 50 feet. Even though he didn't hit the ground, falling that much can mess up your brain.

That evening, John looked up at the sky.

After the storm, the sky was clear, with a full moon hanging like a jade plate above.

The time had come.

John took out a mandrake leaf and placed it in his mouth.

Thus began his journey to become an Animagus!

Though he couldn't speak during this process, John had a solution.

He pulled out his wand and waved it through the air, leaving behind red sparks that hovered in place.

A symbol appeared.

He could use this to communicate with others.

As for why he couldn't speak, he could simply claim that he overexerted his magic the day before, causing his throat to swell.

In the magical world, there were all sorts of odd conditions—this explanation wouldn't raise too much suspicion.

After the full moon passed, Harry finally woke up.

He was heartbroken, feeling guilty that the team had lost because of him.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, especially for Wood. He stood in the rain, feeling like he wanted to drown himself.

It was Wood's final year, and despite his passion for Quidditch, he had never managed to lift the championship cup.

Harry thought this was bad enough, but life always had a way of getting worse.

His Nimbus 2000 had been blown into the Whomping Willow, which promptly smashed the broom to pieces.

The companion that had been with him for three years was now gone, leaving Harry in an even worse mood.

A steady stream of people came to visit Harry, and John also brought him a box of Cockroach Clusters.

"John, what's wrong?" Hermione asked curiously, noticing that John hadn't said a word the entire time.

John pointed to his throat, then used the hovering marks to reveal the excuse he had prepared.

Upon hearing that it was because he had overexerted himself while saving him that day, Harry felt even more guilty.

_________

Read 12 Chapters ahead: