Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Water Margin

Chapter 160: Writing an Autobiography, Rita Spreads Rumors

Chapter 161: Writing an Autobiography, Rita Spreads Rumors

Meanwhile, Harry commanded the Dementor to force Fudge to abdicate, startling him so much that his face turned ashen and his lips frosty. His previous official demeanor vanished, replaced by a cold sweat.

The reporters from the Daily Prophet were no pushovers either. Cameras clicked incessantly, sketching pens scribbled like a downpour, their eyes gleaming, eager to spread Fudge's pathetic state throughout the British Isles.

Fudge heard the whispers among the reporters, which sounded like a thousand ants gnawing at his heart, and he cried out in alarm:

"You can control Dementors?!"

"What did you do to them?!"

Harry sneered at this, crossing his arms. "These scoundrels have their own discerning eyes; what's wrong with them abandoning darkness for light?"

These words were so sharp that Scrimgeour and the other Aurors all craned their necks and gasped.

Is Harry really that sharp?

If they dare to say such things when they are minors, what will they be like when they are adults?

Dumbledore's head was throbbing with pain, because Fudge had become increasingly paranoid and eccentric since he learned that the Dementors were no longer under the Ministry of Magic's control, which only added to his worries.

A woman among the reporters of the Daily Prophet, hearing Harry's words, couldn't resist the urge and hurried forward.

Unbeknownst to her, she tripped over Peter Pettigrew's corpse, which startled her so much that she nearly fell.

She composed herself, turned to face Harry, and forced a smile:

"Oh, Mr. Potter, I'm quite interested in what you just said—you seem to be very dissatisfied with the Ministry of Magic, don't you?"

Harry was a very astute man; he had long ago seen that Song Jiang had written a poem in Xunyang Tower that had been used to his advantage, leading to a literary inquisition.

Now that I've heard what this fellow said, I know it's a scheme to set a trap and deceive me.

Upon closer inspection, one could see that the woman had a head of curly hair that was tied up in a shiny, oily bun, but it was stiff and lifeless, like a twisted hemp rope; her ten fingers were short and thick, but she had two-inch-long fingernails painted with blood-red spots; she was tightly clutching a crocodile skin handbag, and she had a very cunning look on her face.

Lockhart, sensing something was wrong, quickly tugged at Harry's sleeve and whispered in his ear:

"Ignore her, Harry. Rita Skeeter is a master at misinterpreting what people say."

"She'd love for you to be branded a rebel and thrown into Azkaban."

"This guy is like me, cough cough! Just like Fudge."

Before he finished speaking, Dumbledore simply raised his wand, and Rita Skeeter floated up and drifted back into the crowd of reporters.

"Connelly, please take Black and Peter Pettigrew's bodies away."

"I believe you can deliver a fair verdict."

Fudge ignored him, his eyes fixed on Harry. "But Mr. Potter killed someone, so he has to come with us to the Ministry of Magic."

Upon hearing this, Harry's eyes flashed with a fierce light. He pressed his fingers back onto the hilt of his knife and sneered, "Fine! Fine! I'll go with you this time!"

Seeing the situation escalating into a tense standoff, Scrimgeour secretly groaned and swallowed Dumbledore's potion, treating it as a way to drown his sorrows.

Lupin grew even more anxious when he heard that Fudge wanted to take Harry.

Why did you have to suggest that Harry should join the Ministry of Magic?!

If Harry were in his element, a trip to the Ministry of Magic would definitely leave him with a criminal record.

If it's marked on my personal file, how will I find a job in the future? What girl would be interested in someone with a criminal record?

He hurried forward and pleaded, "Excuse me, Minister, may I say a word?"

"Peter Pettigrew attacked Harry first, and Harry killed him in self-defense."

Fudge glanced at the corpse split in two in the snow and gave a smirk.

"Yes, it's a defensive counterattack that splits a person vertically in two."

Before the fellow could say anything else, Dumbledore chanted another spell, and the snow on the ground parted on its own, revealing a clean path.

"Connery, just leave Harry to me. I think the first thing he needs to do is stay in solitary confinement."

Although Fudge was unwilling, he dared not disobey. He simply glanced at the crowd and led the group of Aurors away dejectedly.

Rita kept peeking out, trying to pester him, but Dumbledore chased her away.

Once the group had gone far away, Scrimgeour strolled over to find Harry, a hint of embarrassment on his face.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I messed things up today."

"I didn't expect Minister Fudge to come along, and he even brought a reporter from the Daily Prophet..."

Upon hearing this, Harry chuckled and grasped Scrimgeour's hands, saying:

"Why are you speaking so formally, brother? It's clearly that old man Fudge who wants to use this as an excuse to embellish his image and secure his worthless official position. It has nothing to do with you, brother."

Having said that, he pulled a brocade bag from his sleeve and shoved it into Scrimgeour's hand.

"Thank you for making this trip, brother and all brothers and sisters. When my godfather enters the Ministry of Magic, I hope you will take good care of me."

"These small amounts of gold and silver are just for you all to enjoy with yourselves."

With people watching all around, Scringer couldn't refuse, so he simply put the bag into his pocket, said goodbye in a hurry, and left.

After everyone dispersed, Dumbledore looked at Lupin and said, "Remus, do you have time to talk to me? I'd like to ask you some questions about today."

Harry, overhearing this, exclaimed in surprise, "Huh! Did the sun rise in the west today? Why isn't the professor coming to gnaw on me?"

"Unfortunately, I've run out of medicine." Dumbledore held up two empty medicine bottles. "Harry, I'd like to live a few more years."

He then gave some more instructions and gradually parted ways with Lu Ping.

Lockhart stood there for a moment, then scratched his head. "Ah... Harry, if there's nothing else, I'll be going now."

Harry stepped forward and tugged at Lockhart's sleeve. "Hey, Professor, hold on, I have something to say."

He then swept his wand through the air, and a glass-like light curtain descended, resembling a transparent glass bowl, enveloping the two of them.

Seeing this, Ron and Hermione also hurriedly slipped inside the barrier.

Lockhart nearly stumbled from the tug, but when he looked up and saw Harry's serious expression, he panicked.

He could only force a smile, his throat dry, and said, "Harry, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Ha, Professor, you're quite the clever one. I have a tremendous fortune to bestow upon you."

"You may write a book about today's turmoil. You can use my name as you please, and I won't take a single penny from the sales. Just write clearly about how the Ministry of Magic has acted so corruptly and immorally, framing loyal officials!"

As soon as she finished speaking, Hermione felt as if she had been struck by lightning, and goosebumps rose all over her body.

"Harry! You—you're really going to rebel?"

Harry scoffed. "I think Fudge is a scoundrel hiding a villain under his hat! He can't stand heroes, and his heart is as narrow as a chicken's gut!"

"This scoundrel had just harbored evil intentions towards me. How could I be like the clay figures in the temple, letting him manipulate me?"

"If Voldemort were truly resurrected, this scoundrel would probably kneel down and worship, becoming a groveling, begging dog!"

Ron took those words to heart, spat on the ground, and his eyes blazed with fury. "Go ahead and rebel, Harry! I'm with you!"

"My dad can even be an inside man in the Ministry of Magic!"

Hermione bit her cherry lips tightly, remaining silent for a long time, her brows furrowed like a knot.

After pondering for a long time, he finally said, "That would require an army, like the UMNO or the Death Eaters."

"That's easy!" Ron exclaimed, slapping his thigh. "I bet seven or eight out of ten students in the entire school have been to the Chamber of Secrets, and as for those who took Harry's money, there are even more!"

The three of them talked animatedly, one after another. Lockhart listened intently, his internal organs convulsing with excitement, his crotch tightening, wishing he could ejaculate both at once.

This is what a real story is like!

Yetis, werewolves, vampires... compared to what Harry is going to do, they are nothing!

With his blood rushing to his head, Lockhart shouted, "No, no problem! Leave this to me!"

"I've even thought of a title for this book: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban!"

"I'll write it for you; treat it like your autobiography!"

Fearing that the crowd wouldn't believe him, he expertly drew his wand and held it to his throat, swearing:

"I can cast an unbreakable forgetting spell on myself, so that I can forget all those things you just said about rebelling."

Harry chuckled, picked up the wand with two fingers, and said:

"Professor, you are too polite. As the old saying goes, 'If you doubt someone, don't use them; if you use someone, don't doubt them.' Since I have invited you to discuss important matters with me, it means I trust you."

"I know you are a man who values ​​reputation, but if you follow me, you will have the opportunity to be remembered in history. Why bother with such underhanded dealings?"

Lockhart blushed deeply, only managing an awkward laugh and a stammering nod, but remaining silent.

The following morning at breakfast time, the new edition of The Daily Prophet was published and sold out instantly, setting a record for the highest sales volume ever recorded. For a time, London was in high demand for paper.

Why do you think so?

The front-page headline read: "The Savior's True Colors Revealed: Yet Another Dark Lord?"

(End of this chapter)