Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Hearing the exchange between Ilona and Snape, Wentworth realized that the situation was far more complex than he had imagined!

Nearby, Dumbledore seemed to agree with the two professors' assessments. With a calm demeanor, he raised his wand and aimed it at Marcus Flint:

"Finite Incantatem!"

The next moment, clarity returned to Marcus Flint's eyes.

As Marcus Flint regained consciousness, he noticed the professors encircling him. Realizing what he had done, his legs gave way. If not for Snape gripping his collar, he might have collapsed to the ground on the spot.

"Professor! I don't know what came over me! I only wanted to win the match. Not long ago, I received a package containing a vial of Felix Felicis and a letter. The letter said the potion was a gift to help Slytherin secure a triumphant victory!"

"I hesitated about whether to use the potion, but after reading the articles about Wentworth in the newspapers, I felt indignant. I wanted to defeat him in a direct confrontation. So, before the match, I drank the Felix Felicis!"

"I realize now that it was wrong, Professor, but I genuinely don't know why things turned out this way!"

Marcus Flint quickly spilled everything he knew without needing further questioning.

Hearing his account, the professors exchanged grim looks. Dumbledore finally spoke:

"Severus and Minerva, accompany Marcus Flint to retrieve that package. The rest of you, return to your respective duties and maintain order within your houses. Professor Ilona, please ensure that Wentworth is taken care of—he has been through a shock today."

After giving these instructions, Dumbledore shot Ilona a meaningful glance before turning to leave.

Ilona escorted Wentworth back to his dormitory, meticulously inspecting the room before departing.

Back in her office, however, Ilona's face was a mask of frost. She sat down, took out parchment and quill, and began to write.

In her letter, Ilona recounted the day's events in detail before launching into a scathing rebuke of Abernathy and his team, berating them for their incompetence in failing to uncover the mastermind behind the scheme. Once finished, she sent the letter off with her owl.

While chaos engulfed Hogwarts, the outside world was no calmer.

In Knockturn Alley, even the brightest midday sun could not completely dispel the pervasive gloom. Near a colorful rubbish bin not far from Borgin and Burkes, a series of explosive pops shattered the silence.

Moments later, over a dozen Aurors from the British Ministry of Magic Apparated into the alley, led by their new head, Rufus Scrimgeour.

"Is this the place?"

Scrimgeour's sharp gaze fell on the trash bin as he questioned one of his subordinates.

One of the Aurors stepped forward and replied, "Yes, sir. According to our informant, the bald wizard and the cloaked figure were last seen here. Shortly after, a group of self-proclaimed Purist wizards stormed in. They first coerced the bar owner to join them, then drove the informant away. What happened afterward is unknown."

Scrimgeour frowned deeply. "And why was this information only delivered now? What has your informant been doing? Spending his Ministry stipend on Butterbeer?"

The Auror looked embarrassed. "Sir, the informant said he had to prioritize his safety. He fled to Sweden and only sent the information via owl post after arriving."

Scrimgeour: ...

After a brief silence, Scrimgeour waved his hand decisively. "Once inside, if they use Unforgivable Curses, don't hold back. The bar owner must survive; as for the others—dead or alive, it doesn't matter."

As Scrimgeour stepped forward, another Auror hesitated before stopping him. "Sir, are we sure about this? If they truly are part of the Pureblood Party..."

Before he could finish, Scrimgeour cut him off.

"It doesn't matter who they are. What matters is that you remember you are Aurors of the British Ministry of Magic!"

As Scrimgeour led his team through the trash bin into the bar, a shadowed figure watched from a nearby alley. The face of an elderly wizard emerged from the darkness before disappearing. Moments later, he reappeared in Abernathy's chambers.

"Abernathy, the Aurors have stormed the bar in Knockturn Alley!"

Abernathy frowned. "What? Hasn't the bar owner been evacuated?"

The older wizard hesitated. "I was supposed to take him to Paris today. Many wizards saw him join us, but he insisted on taking one last look at the place he devoted his life to."

Crash!

Abernathy slammed his goblet onto the ground, his anger palpable. "These wizards! What are they good for besides creating more trouble?"

The older wizard looked increasingly uncomfortable but finally said, "I think it's time to recruit younger wizards into our cause. We need fresh blood to serve the young master. But... should we abandon—"

Before he could finish, Ilona's owl arrived.

Abernathy read the letter in silence, his expression growing darker. The older wizard felt as though he was standing before a volcano on the brink of eruption.

Finally, Abernathy spoke coldly, "No matter my grievances, punishment will wait until he returns. If he's joined the Pureblood Party, we cannot allow him to fall into the Ministry's hands."

"Should we go now?" the older wizard asked urgently.

Abernathy shook his head. "It's too late for that. His ragtag team can't stand up to so many Aurors."

After a moment of thought, Abernathy's eyes gleamed with resolve. "We're going to the Ministry itself—directly to the British Ministry of Magic!"

The older wizard's face paled. "Now? With just the two of us?"

"No," Abernathy said. "Not just us. Notify every Purist in Britain, especially those near London. We will meet at the Ministry!"

"But we don't have enough time!" the older wizard protested.

Abernathy's lips curled into a grim smile. "Then we'll remind the magical world of its past. It's time to wake them up."

The older wizard hesitated. "Is it worth such a risk for one wizard?"

Abernathy's voice was steely. "This isn't just for him. It's for our young master. If we can't flush out the rats hiding in the shadows, then we'll make the entire magical world hear our voice! The Pureblood Party can still ignite a war that sweeps across the wizarding world. Anyone daring to oppose us must be ready for a fight to the death. Let's see if they have the nerve!"

That day, in the heart of London, black banners unfurled, rising eerily into the sky without a single gust of wind.

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