Return of Salazar Slytherin

104- Busy Dumbledore

"Minerva, I need your help—Harry Potter is currently in the room under the third-floor corridor. Please go there."

Dumbledore's phoenix Patronus delivered this message, immediately overwhelming Professor McGonagall's brain. After hearing the full explanation, she felt her blood pressure rising.

"Albus!!!" Professor McGonagall slammed her desk, toppling the ink bottles on it.

Even Albus Dumbledore could not do this!!!

Professor McGonagall decided she needed a serious conversation with Dumbledore when he returned.

After a flick of her wand to clean up the spilled ink, she prepared to leave—according to Dumbledore's instructions, she was to observe whether Potter could handle Quirrell, who was possessed by Voldemort, and ensure his safety.

She found this request absurd and unreasonable.

Just then, a flash of gold and red light appeared, and a large gold-and-red bird, the size of a swan, materialized in her office, holding a worn-out hat in its beak.

Dumbledore's Patronus had mentioned bringing his phoenix, Fawkes, and the Sorting Hat. Now that both had come to her, she didn't need to make an extra trip to the headmaster's office.

Clamping the Sorting Hat under her arm and grasping one of Fawkes' outstretched claws, the next moment, she and the bird flew to the forbidden corridor on the third floor.

As soon as Professor McGonagall opened the trapdoor, she heard a strange sound: it seemed like the sound of water—but why would there be the sound of water here?

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She jumped down, and upon landing, she saw a shadow with blue flames beneath it rushing toward her.

"Professor, run!!!"

Just as she was about to cast a spell, she heard Daphne's voice.

Luckily, her hearing was sharp enough to recognize it and put away her wand just in time.

"Miss Greengrass, you—" Professor McGonagall began to ask what had happened but was interrupted by Daphne.

"No time to explain, Professor, we need to go up quickly!" Daphne, riding the Nightmare like a gust of wind, dashed to Professor McGonagall's side. The Nightmare made a sudden stop, throwing the unconscious Harry and Ron off its back.

If professor was not in front of her, she wouldn't have stopped at all.

Professor McGonagall immediately understood the urgency: a torrent, like a giant dragon, was rushing towards them with overwhelming force.

She knew that even the most skilled wizard caught in such a flow would not survive.

By now, Daphne was already pulling the Nightmare's horn to float up to the trapdoor above. Professor McGonagall didn't have time to think about what was happening. She bent down, tucked the two unconscious young wizards under her arms, and grabbed onto Fawkes' tail.

In a flash of golden light, Fawkes carried Professor McGonagall and the two young wizards back up to the trapdoor. Shortly after, Daphne and the Nightmare also emerged from below the trapdoor.

Not long after they escaped, a thunderous crash echoed from below, shaking the entire Hogwarts castle. Even from dozens of meters away, droplets of water splashed onto their faces. Professor McGonagall knew that the torrent below had hit the end of the passageway, and the raging flood was finally halted by the sturdy mountain rock.

With that roar, everything below the trapdoor came to an end. Meanwhile, Fluffy, the three-headed dog, continued to sleep soundly, completely unaware of the chaos outside.

...

"Oh, Albus! How are things on your end? What about that damned creature?" Fudge hurried over to Dumbledore, a fawning smile on his face. It was clear he had been very busy; his beautiful silk hat was smeared with some dust on the side, and his chubby face was covered in sweat.

Erasing the memories of hundreds of people was no easy task. It was especially challenging now, given the various ways Muggles could communicate. They had to investigate whether any of the Muggles had shared what they saw through different means.

After all this trouble, once they were sure no Muggles knew anything, Fudge felt utterly exhausted.

Dumbledore did not immediately respond to Cornelius Fudge's question. The encounter with the creature had given him a profound feeling, sparking a new understanding of magic. He was trying to grasp this elusive inspiration.

After a while, he finally paused his exploration of this newfound magical insight.

"It got away."

"Got away?! How could that happen! I mean..."

Fudge immediately felt displeased.

After being busy all day, his words carried a hint of anger. But after speaking, he realized he shouldn't use such a tone with Dumbledore—especially since he still needed Dumbledore's help to deal with the creature. The Aurors at the Ministry of Magic were no match for it.

"Cornelius, it was severely injured and won't be causing any trouble in the short term. We have plenty of time to track it down. More importantly, although it isn't very intelligent, it had regained human form when we fought. Even if Muggles see it, it won't cause much of a problem." Dumbledore left one thing unsaid—that creature was highly lethal, and any Muggle who encountered it wouldn't be left alive.

"Ah, that's really great!" Fudge forced a smile, though his true feelings were hard to discern.

At this point, Fudge knew that the incident was mostly settled. It was time to consider the aftermath and the potential risks.

His mind raced with calculations: the creature was wearing a robe with a Nordic style—could he shift the blame onto the Finnish or Norwegian Ministry of Magic? But the creature was found on Scottish soil, which complicated things. Should Gringotts be held responsible instead? Or was it possible to suppress the whole matter?

Fudge thought his immediate priority was to cover up the incident.

He could put some pressure on the Daily Prophet to ensure they didn't mention it for now.

If things blew up in the future, he could throw Gringotts under the bus as a scapegoat for everyone to vent their frustrations on.

As for the curse-breakers who died here, Fudge didn't care at all. They had caused him so much trouble that if it weren't for the bad optics, he would have wanted to grind their bones to dust himself.

They were just a few foreigners, not British wizards. Fudge really didn't care about their deaths.

Oh, right, wasn't there a Weasley kid working as a curse-breaker? Next time he saw old Arthur, he'd advise him to get the boy a position in the Ministry, even if it was a minor one.

Fudge now had a very poor impression of curse-breakers.

At that moment, a cat-shaped Patronus appeared at Dumbledore's feet. It didn't speak, just sat there quietly, looking at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore: "..."

His expression turned stiff. Sighing, he said to Fudge, "I have some matters to attend to. Please excuse me for a moment."

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