163: Execution

163: Execution

Rufus Scrimgeour was panicking.

He had dispatched additional Dementors to Hogwarts.

During his tenure, he had boasted with great confidence, but now, nearly an entire term had passed, and there was still no sign of Sirius Black.

In fact, due to Sirius Black, a dozen Dementors had gone missing.

The Ministry of Magic's reputation was in shambles, and the only way Scrimgeour could remove the "acting" from his title and restore the Ministry's face was by capturing Sirius Black.

John encountered a grim-faced Rufus Scrimgeour in the castle and figured he was having a rough day.

Scrimgeour had graced Hogwarts with his presence, accompanied by members of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures and an executioner.

For a magical creature to warrant the personal attention of the Minister?

If it were Fudge, perhaps it would make some sense.

But Scrimgeour, with his Auror background and tough stance, shouldn't concern himself with such trivial matters.

His arrival clearly had ulterior motives.

"Is he thinking Johnny Silverhand is unreliable and wants to find a new backer?"

Squinting slightly, John watched Scrimgeour head toward the headmaster's office. Clearly, there was a conversation to be had.

What a pity.

If Scrimgeour were the actual Minister of Magic, perhaps he'd have some leverage.

But as of now, Scrimgeour was merely an acting minister, and his personality wasn't one to win over Dumbledore.

"Execution at sunset, huh? Buckbeak has become a pawn in this game."

Thinking about Hagrid's letter, John felt a pang of guilt.

"I'll go comfort him later."

With a sigh, John headed to the Constellation Society's secret room.

The holidays were approaching, and there were still some things in the room that needed attention.

Arriving on the fourth floor, John glanced at the magic he'd left behind. Aside from Constellation Society members, someone else had tried to enter.

However, the intruder hadn't discerned the enchantments on the wooden door, so John decided to let it slide for now.

Opening the door and stepping inside, he noticed that the Firebolt had been cleaned and carefully placed back in its spot.

It was obvious who had done it—Malfoy.

John then opened the passage to the armory.

Entering the armory, John raised his hand and summoned the Silverwick Sword.

There was now an additional crack on the Super Magic Crystal. His gaze shifted to the new pair of shoes on the table, and he completed the final adjustments.

Slipping on the new shoes, he turned his attention to the Enchantment Ring.

The ring on his right hand had turned pitch black, the gemstone now entirely dark, like a bottomless abyss.

"The Soul-Devouring Curse shouldn't be overused," he muttered.

After inspecting it for a while, John noticed a barely visible crack.

The ring, after all, wasn't a particularly powerful vessel. Even magical crystals shattered under the strain of too much magic, let alone this ring.

He packed the Heart of Silence and the Enchantment Ring he had crafted recently into a small briefcase. Items like these weren't casually sold in Johnny Silverhand's boutique.

The shop carefully selected its clientele—only those who passed the vetting process could make a purchase.

Of course, some dark wizards could also buy them. After all, what's Knockturn Alley without a little gray-market trade?

However, the prices for such items were anything but friendly.

He patted Buckbeak's head lightly before turning to leave.

He decided against entering the hut. Having been of little help in this matter, John didn't feel like facing Hagrid.

Just as he turned away, he stopped again.

With a faintly puzzled expression, he turned toward the forest behind the pumpkin patch.

The forest was eerily quiet, but John had a vague feeling he'd seen something.

To confirm, his eyes narrowed into vertical slits.

The presence within the forest seemed startled and quickly retreated.

John frowned, fixing his gaze on that direction, debating whether to investigate.

Tick, Tick...

In the silence, John heard a faint sound.

Taking out a golden pocket watch from his pocket, he glanced at the time and then looked up at the setting sun.

The sun was descending toward the Forbidden Forest, and in the distance, a group of figures appeared, silhouetted against the light, heading toward the castle.

It was the team from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, Rufus Scrimgeour, and Dumbledore.

With such a formidable lineup, John knew he couldn't pull the wool over Dumbledore's eyes.

Reluctantly, he gave up his plan and ran in another direction.

Not long after John left, the trio slipped out of Hagrid's hut, cloaked in the Invisibility Cloak, sneaking away through the back door.

Once everyone had gone, heavy breathing could be heard from the forest behind the pumpkin patch.

"Bloody hell, why does it feel like John always manages to spot us?"

A voice echoed in the quiet, as the sunset's golden light filtered through the trees, revealing two familiar faces—Harry and Hermione.

Both had bandages on their faces.

Harry hadn't expected that, apart from their own group, John had also planned to rescue Buckbeak.

Hermione, meanwhile, had a gleam in her eyes that was almost alarming. Around her slender neck hung a gold chain with a shimmering hourglass.

As if struck by inspiration, she whispered, "Do you remember what Professor Dumbledore said?"

Harry was puzzled. "What did Dumbledore say?"

Seeing his confusion, Hermione gave him a look of exasperation, like a mother frustrated with her child's slow understanding. She reminded him in a hushed voice, "If all goes well tonight, you might save more than one innocent life. If things get difficult, perhaps seek out help."

Hermione took a deep breath and said, "We need help, Harry."

...

Meanwhile, inside Hagrid's hut, the death sentence for Buckbeak was being read aloud.

"The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures has ruled that the hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter referred to as the guilty creature, shall be executed on June 6th at sunset..."

"...Sentenced to decapitation, to be carried out by the executioner appointed by the committee, Walden Macnair..."

Rufus Scrimgeour wore a grim expression, while Dumbledore remained exceptionally cheerful, engaging Scrimgeour in conversation as though he hadn't just refused to intervene in the headmaster's office earlier.

During the sentencing, no one noticed a shadowy figure sneaking into the pumpkin patch from the forest.

When Buckbeak saw the person, it bowed in greeting. The figure returned the gesture with a bow of their own.

Buckbeak: This person bowed—safe to approach!

Harry: "Buckbeak, come on, let's go!"

__________

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