Chapter 925 The Nightmare Strikes

Umbridge must have lost her mind, or perhaps this report touched a sensitive nerve in the Ministry of Magic.

They had just pushed Sirius back into the darkness, barely managed to cover up what happened in Azkaban, and now they had to deal with an absolutely true report.

The facts cannot be concealed forever. The changes in the magical world are too great. Azkaban is out of control, dark wizards gather, and deaths occur more frequently, but the Ministry of Magic has been preaching peace and stability.

This is contradictory enough in itself, so contradictory that more and more people are dissatisfied with the Ministry of Magic.

In Fan Lin's eyes, Umbridge's actions have obviously lost the power they had when they first came to Hogwarts. Now it seems that Umbridge is like a fly with nowhere to go, buzzing. Talking nonsense inside Hogwarts Castle...

Wait, it seems it's not the season for flies yet...

If there was anything else that could make Fanlin and the others happy, it would be the reactions of Malfoy, Clara and Goyle.

I went to the library later that afternoon and saw them.

Several people were putting their heads together, and one Hermione called him Sildor. Nott's unkempt boys whispered. They saw Harry as he was searching the bookshelf for a book about partial disappearance.

Goyle twirled his fingers evilly, and Malfoy spoke maliciously to Crabbe.

Harry understood their actions completely: he called their father a Death Eater.

"The best thing is," Hermione said cheerfully as they left the library, "they can't attack you because they can't admit to reading the article!"

Finally, Luna told Tan Dong over dinner that "Wizard Weekly" had never sold so fast.

"Daddy is increasing the print run!" she told Harry, her eyes red with excitement. "He couldn't believe it. He said people were even more interested in finding the elves than they were in finding the elves!"

And that night in the Gryffindor common room, Harry became a hero. Fred and George boldly magnified a cover of Wizarding Weekly and hung it on the wall, so that Harry's big head kept looking at the activities below, and occasionally muttered "The Ministry of Magic is stupid" ", "Go and eat shit, Onwumrich."

Hermione didn't find it amusing at all, she said it disturbed her train of thought, and she ended up angrily going to her room to sleep.

After an hour or two, Harry found the poster uninteresting, especially as the spell wore off and it started sputtering out "Shit" and "Umbridge."

In fact, his head started hurting again and his scar was tingling uncomfortably. He announced that he was going to bed, prompting groans of disappointment from those sitting around him, who had asked him to repeat the interview countless times.

When he returned to the dormitory, there was no one there.

Harry pressed his forehead against the cold glass window beside his bed, and the scar felt better. Then he lay on the bed without taking off his clothes, hoping that the headache would go away soon. He felt a little uncomfortable, turned over and closed his eyes, and he fell asleep quickly.

…

He stood in a dark, curtained room with a candle lit inside. His hands were tightly gripping the back of a chair in front of him. His fingers were long, as if they had not seen the sun for a long time, and they looked like several large pale spiders on the black velvet back of the chair. On the other side of the chair, illuminated by the faint light of candles, knelt a man wearing a black robe.

"I've thought about it carefully," Harry said in a high, cold voice laced with anger.

"Master, I beg your forgiveness," the man on his knees said hoarsely. The back of his head shone in the candlelight and he looked like he was shaking.

"I'm not blaming you, Lockwood," Harry said, still cold. He released his grip on the chair and walked around it to the man huddled on the ground, standing up straight and looking taller than usual.

"Are you sure of your situation, Lockwood?" Harry asked.

"Yes, my lord, yes. I have been working in the department, after all—"

"Avery told me Bird could get it."

"Bird couldn't have gotten it, Master. Bird should have known he couldn't. That's why he resisted Malfoy's spell like that."

"Stand up, Lockwood," Harry whispered. The man was so eager to obey that he almost fell to the ground.

His face was covered with acne, and the candlelight made the scars fade. After he stood up, still slightly bent like a bow, he raised his head to look at Harry in fear.

"It's good that you told me that," Harry said coldly. "Very well. I've wasted months making useless plans. But that's okay, let's start again. I'm grateful to you, Lockwood. ”

"My lord, yes my lord," Lockwood gasped.

"I need your help and all the information you can provide. Before those vampires complete their work, we have to continue to endure for a while..."

As he spoke, Harry felt an irresistible force, very cold, even stronger than the feeling it brought him now.

"Of course, my lord, of course, of all."

"Okay, go ahead. Get Avery."

Lockwood ran quickly backwards, stooped, and disappeared behind the door. Alone in the dark room, Harry turned toward the wall, where a broken, ancient mirror hung in the shadows.

Harry walked towards it, and his figure grew larger and clearer in the darkness, with a pale skull-like face and a pair of red eyes with narrow pupils.

"No--!"

"What's wrong?" said a voice next to him.

Harry struck so wildly about him that he got tangled in the curtain and rolled to the ground. For a few minutes he did not know where he was, and certainly he saw that pale, skeletal face approaching him again in the darkness.

At this time Ron's voice rang in his ears, "If you can stop being so crazy, I can get you out of here!"

Ron pulled the curtain aside, and Harry stared at him in the moonlight, then lay flat on his back, his scar burning. Ron looked like he was getting ready for bed, one sleeve of his robe was open.

"What happened? Was anyone else attacked?" Fan Lin helped Harry up while hiding Ron, "What did you see?"

"N-no one-" Harry gasped, his forehead feeling like it was on fire. "Avery is bad, he's in trouble. He gave him the wrong information. Voldemort is really angry."

Harry groaned, cupping his hand over his scar.

"But now that Lockwood is here to help him, he's back on the right track."

"What are you talking about?" Ron sounded frightened. "You mean, you just saw the mysterious man?"

"I'm You-Know-Who," Harry said, stretching out his hands in the darkness and raising them to his face to see if they were still deathly pale, and the fingers were very long. "He was with Lockwood, the Death Eater who escaped from Azkaban, remember? Lockwood told him Bird failed."

"What failed?" Fan Lin asked quickly.

"Go get something. He said Bird should have known he couldn't get it. Bird was under the Imperius Curse, I think he said it was Malfoy's dad who cast it." (To be continued)