Hogwarts: My Yorozuya has no taboos!

Chapter 21 He's my benefactor!

The train's flames quickly disappeared from view, and the countless stars and the crescent moon, obscured by clouds, emitted a hazy and weak glow.

Albus Dumbledore trudged alone in the darkness along the driveway, like a lone warrior.

He quickly bypassed the mountains and his path became straight.

Here, the tragic scenes become even more real.

Under the immense pressure of the Hogwarts Express speeding along, the two tracks were severely twisted and deformed. Many of the rail spikes that held the rails in place were blown off, and almost every single sleeper beneath the tracks was cracked, a truly shocking sight!

Amidst the biting cold of the mountain stream, the rising mist gathers and disperses.

Albus Dumbledore walked and stopped, observing from various perspectives.

He didn't just wave his wand around like a clumsy spellcaster, creating a bunch of light and shadow in the dark; instead, he used a much more profound method—listening and seeing.

At times, Dumbledore would stretch out his muscular right hand and "fish" in the space outside the driveway;

Sometimes, it would stick its head out of the tracks and inhale the cold air through its crooked nostrils;

He would even make some funny and ridiculous gestures, such as dipping his finger in the air and then seriously putting it in his mouth to chew and taste it.

Finally, Dumbledore stopped, his brow furrowed in the darkness.

Some phenomena are just too obvious.

For example, the seemingly empty void is actually scarred in Dumbledore's deep blue eyes.

The magic flowing through nature always accelerates or slows down unnaturally when passing inside and outside the driveway... This is clearly because there is still a spatial misalignment between the spaces inside and outside the driveway.

From this, Dumbledore at least figured out how Ares managed to stop the Hogwarts Express while it was speeding completely out of control without harming any of the young wizards.

Brilliant talent!

Even Albus Dumbledore couldn't deny this.

That's brilliant—the magic and method Ares used to stop the train.

So, besides that, there's just confusion.

Dumbledore squinted and looked around in the darkness, as if in the dim light of fireflies.

Everywhere were the 'scars' left by Ares after he managed to park the car, but other than that... there were no traces of magic left.

Is this reasonable?

In the deserted wilderness, Dumbledore's silver beard and hair fluttered as he murmured softly.

................

"How many died, Dumbledore? Tell me, how many died? Tell me the truth, I can bear the truth!"

The students had all been evacuated before the Ministry of Magic officials finally arrived.

The officials of the Department of Magical Transportation were all in a state of utter despair. Like ants whose nest had been washed away by a flood, they scrambled inside and out of the Hogwarts Express, checking for any remaining traces of magic.

Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge was a short, stout, and chubby man dressed in a comical outfit—a pinstripe suit, a bright red tie, a long black cloak, and purple pointed boots.

As soon as he saw Dumbledore, he shouted loudly and limped toward him.

"What happened to your leg, Cornell?"

Dumbledore's sharp gaze pierced through his glasses clipped to his crooked nose and landed on the Minister of Magic's malfunctioning right foot.

"I'm attending a charity gala!"

Cornelius Fudge, wiping his nose and cold sweat with a handkerchief with trembling hands, hardly looked like a warrior capable of withstanding the truth. He approached Dumbledore, his pale lips quivering, as if the sky had fallen in panic.

"I was giving a speech when your guardian spirit suddenly appeared in front of me and delivered the message. Then, I fell off the stage... There were at least two hundred distinguished wizards from all walks of life there... I was so utterly humiliated!"

Cornelius Fudge wiped the cold sweat from his broad forehead and asked again.

"How many died...Dumbledore, oh, such a massive catastrophic accident...Merlin's beard, I've already prepared my resignation, are you ready?"

"Before the matter is fully investigated, I think we shouldn't let the incident escalate on a large scale, right?"

Besides the Ministry of Magic officials, most of the Daily Prophet's reporters were on the scene, excitedly snapping photos of the broken train windows and the bloodstains in the compartments!

Dumbledore used his sharp gaze to deter several reporters who tried to eavesdrop, then fixed his reproachful look on the Minister of Magic's face.

"You shouldn't have called the reporters over, Connelly."

"It wasn't me!"

Fudge glared at the reporters, equally annoyed.

"A charity gala...you understand, Dumbledore? There will definitely be reporters there, and they'll have heard everything...really, before I could even stop them, they'd already slipped back to report...running faster than rabbits!"

Fudge breathed heavily for a few moments.

"How many died?"

"The truth is there is none, Connelly."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, clearly somewhat helpless.

"As I told you, the professor who stopped the train from going out of control used a very safe method. It was extremely fortunate that not a single child lost their life... Of course, it's undeniable that the number of injured is staggering; the most seriously injured may have to spend a month in the hospital."

Cornelius stared intently into Dumbledore's blue eyes, remaining motionless.

Half a minute later, he was probably convinced that Dumbledore was not lying, and then he let out a sigh that trembled with every syllable!

"Merlin's beard!"

Can you believe how lucky we are, Dumbledore? Hmm?

Can you believe it? Not a single one died!

Cornelius Fudge kept wiping his eyes, unable to control his trembling hands.

"I don't know what you're thinking, Dumbledore, but I prepared for the worst on my way here."

Minister of Magic is definitely out of the question, and you're definitely going to lose your position as Headmaster of Hogwarts—I mean, after the enraged mob ousts us both and throws us into Azkaban...

"Can't we at least share a cell?"

One thing is for sure: Dumbledore rolled his eyes.

Cornelius Fudge was still muttering some nonsense, but Dumbledore had lost interest in listening. He didn't believe these officials from the Department of Magical Transportation could uncover any 'truth' that interested him.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts, Cornelius. Shouldn't you... uh, in your capacity as Minister, visit the wounded?"

"Oh, of course!"

Upon being reminded, Connelly looked enlightened.

"Of course, of course, that's what I intend to do... And then, what about that heroic professor who saved us from trial?"

He is currently resting at school.

Dumbledore said, and then, something occurred to him.

"Oh, by the way, the professor mentioned that if the department intends to reward him, could it be with gold...?"

"Gold?!"

Cornelius Fudge jumped up as if someone had stepped on his foot, glaring at him as if Dumbledore had gone mad.

"It would be too harsh to reward this level of merit with gold, Dumbledore!"

How about the Order of Merlin?

"At least a first-class...that's definitely no problem. I might write a letter to the Order of Merlin and ask if they have that kind of special class medal?"

"This is your freedom, Connelly—"

Eager to return to school and see his students, Dumbledore said he stretched out an arm.

"Apparition, Cornelius, only I can use this to get you in."

"Excuse me, excuse me—"

Cornelius placed his hand on Dumbledore's arm.

"By the way, what's the new professor's name?"

Ares Delfino.

"Hmm...that sounds familiar."

"Not surprising. He was also the main figure in another incident four years ago where a group of students were injured."

"Did he save those children too?"

"Oh, mainly because he injured him... Don't you remember? You were the head of the Department of Law Enforcement at the time, Cornelius, and you were the one who broke his wand."

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