Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Water Margin

Chapter 206 Death Eaters Infiltrate the Ministry of Magic

Chapter 207 Death Eaters Infiltrate the Ministry of Magic

Picking up where we left off, Harry withdrew Legilimency, only to feel a heavy weight in his heart.

Just now, Voldemort in my mind's eye created a living being with just a single strand of hair. Such a method was truly awe-inspiring.

He thought to himself: This scoundrel has such a talent for stealing the sky and changing the sun. Even if Hua Tuo were to be reborn or Bian Que were to be resurrected, it would be difficult to bring the dead back to life and restore flesh to bones.

No wonder Rodolphus, despite having his memory erased, still worships him with the same devotion as a temple pilgrim. Such a feat is truly comparable to creating a human from clay.

As he was sighing inwardly, he suddenly saw the lips of Extis's rotten head move, emitting intermittent sounds.

"Let's make a deal... I can tell you... about Voldemort..."

Upon hearing this, Harry simply crossed his arms and sneered, "You've been stuck on this deserted island for hundreds of years, and all you've got is some bird-demon script. What kind of know-it-all are you?"

"Don't even talk about where Voldemort's skills came from; I'm afraid you can't even tell what kind of supernatural power he's using!"

Harry wouldn't let the head make any more noise, so he picked up a piece of angular pebble and shoved it into Extis's mouth without saying a word.

He then raised the wand that was on the verge of breaking, and with a single sweep in the air, the severed limbs and broken bodies scattered on the ground gathered together as if on command.

Harry was secretly amazed: this wand, though eighty or ninety percent damaged, was still ten times more powerful than casting spells without a wand. No wonder everyone says that a wand is a wizard's second life; seeing it today, it's truly true.

Without further hesitation, he immediately sat cross-legged and loudly recited the "Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva's Mantra for Eradicating Fixed Karma," a mantra for liberating evil spirits.

"Om, Pramarindra, Svaha..."

The incantation was obscure and difficult to pronounce. At first, Extis found the incantation annoying, as if thousands of mosquitoes were crawling into his brain.

Unexpectedly, after three or five times, it felt as if warm water had permeated his limbs and bones, and the chronic illnesses and grime accumulated over hundreds of years gradually melted away like snow in spring.

Those three souls and seven spirits seemed to have been freed from a thousand-pound shackle, and floated away on the wind.

In a daze, the scene before Extis's eyes suddenly changed.

He suddenly saw that he had deciphered the magic runes on the invisibility cloak and was blessed by the heavens; he also saw his parents smiling and beckoning him to inherit the headship of the Potter family; his younger brother admired and respected him even more, following closely behind him like a shadow.

[At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name: 202ᴋᴋs.ᴄᴏᴍ]

His eyes were glazed over, and he whispered, "Ah... I have to go find them... I—I'm having a final burst of lucidity before death?!"

Extis shuddered, his previously unfocused eyes suddenly brightening with life as he stared intently at Harry.

But then he swallowed hard and cursed, "You sour radish—"

Before he finished speaking, the mangled bodies on the ground suddenly lost their life force, having already been released from their suffering by the scarred man.

Harry recited a Buddhist mantra, relinquished his supernatural powers, but he was still uneasy.

It should be known that this Extis has cultivated for hundreds of years and has spent his days studying the innate treasure of the invisibility cloak. If he has any hidden tricks up his sleeve, they will surely become a disaster in the future.

Without hesitation, Harry drew a Five Thunder Talisman and threw it at the severed limb. A burst of lightning and thunder shattered the severed limb into pieces of flesh and bone.

He then drew another True Fire Talisman, and as the flames rose, they instantly turned into wisps of ashes.

So it swept to the edge of the island, raised its arm, and poured all of it into the North Sea to feed the fish and shrimp.

Harry only felt at ease after Extis was completely destroyed, body and soul.

He turned and rushed into the ruins of the ancient castle, heading straight for the half-collapsed house of Extis.

After searching among the broken beams and rafters for a long time, he finally found a thick notebook in the ruins. It was Extis's notes on his five hundred years of research on the invisibility cloak.

Harry quickly flipped through a few pages, but the pages were filled with magical script that twisted and turned like tadpoles, making it impossible to decipher even a single word. He thought to himself:

This awful notebook may seem like cryptic writing, but I doubt it can fool someone as astute as my eldest sister. I'll keep it for now and show it to her later.

He tucked the book into his waistband and casually stripped off the clothes of a violently deceased Death Eater to cover himself.

Harry had just finished getting ready when he suddenly heard a whooshing sound overhead, like an arrow piercing the clouds.

Looking up, they saw a group of Aurors riding brooms rushing towards them like stars chasing the moon in the pale light of dawn.

The Aurors put down their brooms and landed on the ground. Scrimgeour, the leader, was stunned and stood there motionless, seeing the huge castle reduced to rubble.

The Aurors behind him panicked even more; their feet had barely touched the ground before they all stumbled and nearly fell.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, their exclamations rising and falling.

"Where is Azkaban?!"

"Who did this?!"

"Oh no! Someone must be trying to kill Harry!"

The Aurors were chattering and making a ruckus when Scrimgeour shouted, silencing the commotion.

"Shut up, all of you!"

"One team goes to find Harry, the second team goes to count the prisoners, especially the Death Eaters! Don't let a single one escape!"

Before he could finish speaking, Harry jumped out from behind the broken wall, cupped his hands and smiled, "Brother, please calm down, I'm right here."

"There's no need to bother counting the birdmen in Azka's squad; nine out of ten are dead. Even those who survived are barely clinging to life, and not one of them will escape."

When Scrimgeour saw Harry standing before him, unharmed, a great weight was lifted from his heart.

After hearing his words, he fell silent again.

Since Harry is completely unharmed... does that mean he was the one who destroyed Azkaban?

Scrimgeour swallowed back the thousand questions that were swirling in his throat, took a deep breath, and said in a low voice, "Harry, can you tell me what happened here?"

"Azkaban...you didn't destroy it, did you?"

Harry waved his hand and said, "Brother, why are you thinking such nonsense! I came here voluntarily to accept my punishment, so how could I possibly turn this prison into a wasteland?"

Upon hearing this, Scrimgeour's expression softened slightly.

Unexpectedly, Harry spoke up again: "The one who destroyed Azkaban was the dark wizard Extis, who created the Dementors five hundred years ago."

These words struck like a thunderclap, making Scrimgeour's scalp tingle and instantly seem to age ten years.

He muttered to himself, "Wasn't Extis someone from five hundred years ago?"

"Oh dear! Who knew what kind of evil tricks this scoundrel used to possess the old warden and eke out a living?"

Having said that, he handed over Extis's broken wand again, saying, "Brother, if you don't believe me, just use the Flashback Charm to examine Extis's wand and you'll know the truth."

Seeing that Harry's words were so convincing, how could Scrimgeour not believe them?

He took a deep breath and hurriedly gave orders, summoning a group of Aurors to search through the rubble and count the number of people.

The Aurors, having received their order, dared not delay and each drew their wands, ready to strike.

Suddenly, they saw a flesh altar standing beside the ruins, with bones as its base and severed limbs as its steps. A sinister sword made from human spine was stuck in the ground beside it. They couldn't help but gasp in shock.

Their faces were filled with shock and anger, and they began to curse loudly.

"That's too brutal!"

"As expected of that infamous dark wizard! I have never seen such an evil person!"

"No wonder he was able to create such repulsive creatures as Dementors!"

Amidst the commotion, a sharp-eyed Auror's expression suddenly changed drastically. He hurriedly summoned his guardian deity, pointed to the sky, and exclaimed in alarm:

"Watch out, everyone! Those Dementors seem to have mutated!"

Everyone looked up and saw that the Dementors were surrounded by billowing black energy. Wherever they passed, even the flowing clouds were stained with dark ink.

Harry, finding this strange, immediately pointed to the sky and shouted, "Get down!"

Now that Extis is dead and gone, Harry is the only remaining member of the Potter bloodline. Even those who did not teach the Worm to become his accomplices are now obeying his orders.

As soon as the Dementor landed, its black aura immediately spread out, turning any grass or trees it touched into withered leaves and bricks and stones into charred black stones.

With a shout, the crowd stumbled backward, hastily summoning their guardian spirits to drive them away.

Seeing this, Harry suddenly understood.

It turns out that these wicked creatures were originally immortal and indestructible. Although the previous poisonous rain turned the Death Eaters to ashes, it could not kill them.

The poisonous rain soaked through it, yet it melted into one.

Harry was secretly delighted and thought, "Brilliant! This Dementor obeys my commands and is poisoned with such potent toxins. Even a minor scratch or scrape will be difficult for even a celestial being to save it."

Even with a thousand troops, how can they possibly defeat my Poisonous Army?

Scrimgeour frowned, his lips pressed tightly together. He scrutinized the mutated Dementor for a long while, then suddenly pulled out paper and pen from his robes and said in a deep voice:

"I need to tell Minister Fudge about this; the Dementors are becoming increasingly dangerous."

Upon hearing this, Harry thought to himself: This Dementor was created by our ancestor Extis, so it should be the private property of my Potter family.

Now that we have acknowledged our master, how can we allow that old man Fudge to continue to drive us?

Without saying much, he simply clapped his hands three times. The mind-devouring monsters scattered at the sound and disappeared into the dark clouds.

Scrimgeour paused for a moment upon seeing this, but said nothing. He simply put the paper and pen in his pocket, turned around, and strode off to count the prisoners with the other Aurors.

The Azkaban Fortress had been largely destroyed by the poisonous rain, but the people could easily search through the corpses and move the broken walls and ruins.

Beneath the rubble, one could see bodies broken and fractured by the weight of beams and pillars, empty shells left after their souls had been drained by Dementors, and rotten flesh and pus from snake venom.

After a long count, many discrepancies remained. It turned out that the pile of rotten flesh was so mixed together that it was impossible to tell whether there were three or five people.

Just as they reached the depths of the foundation, an Auror suddenly shouted sharply, "Who's there? Come out!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a short, scrawny man covered in dust and dirt crawled out from the gap. He raised his hands high, his whole body trembling, and repeatedly said:

"Don't kill me! I didn't escape!"

"I didn't do anything!"

Harry looked closely and exclaimed in surprise, "You're quite the lucky fellow! Not only are you alive, but you're also completely unharmed."

Do you think this short man is? It's none other than Mundungus.

Mundungus looked up abruptly and bumped into Harry, instantly terrified. His hair stood on end, and cold sweat poured down his forehead.

Hearing the question, he quickly forced a fawning smile and said, "I was afraid of being accidentally hurt by you and that black wizard, so I hid in the ruins again."

By this time, the Aurors had finished their headcount and quickly went to Scrimgeour to report.

The living, the dead, the soulless, and the fleshy pulp lined up in four rows.

Scrimgeour surveyed the mess, then slowly nodded and said, "Protect the scene and the survivors."

He then took a deep breath. "I need to go back to the Ministry of Magic and ask the Minister to come over."

After speaking, he summoned three or five close followers, each mounted a flying broom, and with a whooshing sound, the group disappeared into the vast sea and sky.

Once things had calmed down a bit, Harry carefully counted the remaining prisoners and found that there were only thirty-five heads left.

Then, counting the name tattoos on his body, there were still nearly a hundred left.

He couldn't help but gasp, thinking to himself: Damn it! How could there be such a big difference? Could it be that someone really escaped?

He immediately grabbed Mundungus by the collar and asked, "You used to work for the Order of the Phoenix, do you know how many Death Eaters have escaped?"

Mundungus shrank back in fright and fell silent. After thinking for a long time, he answered tremblingly, "Um... Mr. Potter, what is your definition of a Death Eater?"

Harry looked surprised. "What kind of definition is that? Of course, it's someone who's done things with Voldemort and his ilk."

"Ah, that's a lot. I think... there must be at least a thousand people."

Listen carefully, dear reader: In the past, when Voldemort wreaked havoc in the magical world, in addition to his trusted henchmen, he also forcibly recruited all the young and strong wizards in the world into his ranks.

If anyone utters even half a word of dissent, a soul-snatching curse will be cast upon them, forcing them to serve as her vanguard like cattle or horses; if anyone outwardly complies but inwardly defies, secretly colluding with the Phoenix Society, their entire family will be wiped out immediately.

Under such ruthless methods, even the most resolute hearts would turn to ice, and the wizards had no choice but to temporarily conceal their brilliance and serve against their will.

Once the demon is brought to justice, if the law is truly applied, I fear that half the wizards in the magical world will be held accountable.

Therefore, during the joint trial by the three judicial authorities, only the ringleaders were executed in accordance with the law, while the others who were coerced into committing the crimes were given lenient treatment.

Harry, upon hearing Mundungus's words, merely scoffed, "That Voldemort is utterly inhuman, engaging in such despicable acts as forcing innocent women into prostitution!"

Mundungus glanced at the Death Eaters squatting in a row, then shrank back half a step behind Harry and whispered in response.

"Who can argue with that?"

As he spoke, his gaze swept across the room and caught sight of Harry's name on his broad shoulders and thick back.

Now that most of the name on his body had disappeared, Mundungus could see him clearly. After staring at him for a moment, he couldn't help but let out a strange cry and jump up.

Harry turned to look, only to see the man's face ashen, his voice trembling as he said, "Mr. Potter, these names on you—are they on an assassination list?"

Harry's eyes widened at the words, but he didn't answer. Instead, he suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Mundungus by the collar.

"Are any of them people you know here? Were they ever imprisoned in Azkaban?"

Mundungus shook his head vigorously, "These names—most of these names are officials from the Ministry of Magic!"

"Avery, he's the Director of the Department of Magical Transportation. And him, Mulseber, the Deputy Director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters..."

Mundungus rattled off more than a dozen names, and Harry realized that most of the tattoos on his body belonged to respectable figures in the Ministry of Magic, while ordinary clerks were far fewer.

The scarred man, enraged, laughed instead. "No wonder the register on my person doesn't match the current number of prisoners. Turns out, this damned bastard has already been escorted to a high position in the yamen!"

The more he thought about it, the more furious he became, his teeth grinding together. "Back then, these scoundrels ran rampant in the village, committing all sorts of evil deeds. Now they're wearing official robes and lording it over everyone!"

"How can this world allow such a wicked creature to wear fine robes and a wicked ghost to sit in court? Is there any justice in this world?!"

There's a saying: In the halls of power, wolves and jackals hold sway; within the Ministry of Magic, tigers and wolves lurk. Demons and monsters adorned in purple and crimson robes, corrupt and greedy, serve as pillars of the state. The flawed order of Heaven will eventually be restored, and the humble Harry Potter mends the heavens. To find out what happens next, stay tuned for the next installment.

(End of this chapter)