Chapter 492: Room 11

Fudge shrugged off his striped cloak and tossed it aside, then pulled up his dark green trousers and sat across from Harry.

“Harry, I’m Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.”

Harry already knew who he was.

He had seen that face more than once in the newspapers—just moments ago, beneath Sirius’s face, was Fudge’s round, plump visage.

The barkeep Tom reappeared, wearing a long shirt-like nightgown over which he had tied an apron, carrying a tray with tea and toasted crumpets.

He set the tray down between them, then left the private room and closed the door.

“Ah, Harry,”

Fudge said as he poured tea,

“To be honest, you’ve thrown us into complete chaos—escaping from your aunt and uncle’s house like that!

I thought… but you’re safe now, and that’s what matters most.”

Fudge took a crumpet for himself, spread butter on it, then pushed the plate toward Harry.

“Eat, Harry, you look exhausted. Don’t be shy, Mr. Green.”

Fudge smiled warmly at Wizard Sean.

The seating arrangement was peculiar: Harry sat against the wall, while Wizard Sean had been placed by Fudge’s side.

It looked as though Fudge and Wizard Sean were jointly putting Harry on trial.

“Look, your Aunt Marge swelled up—and then you vanished, Harry.

It’s hard not to draw connections…

But you were clever, Harry. You found someone to help you.

On Mr. Green’s account, the Ministry has already settled the unfortunate incident involving the inflation of Mrs. Dursley. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear it.

Two hours ago, two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were dispatched to Privet Drive. Mrs. Dursley has been deflated, and her memory has been altered.

She remembers nothing of it. That’s all. No major incident occurred.”

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, like an uncle admiring his favorite nephew.

Harry could hardly believe his ears. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of what to say, so he closed it again.

“Ah, you’re worried about how your aunt and uncle will react?”

Fudge said,

“Well, I won’t deny they were furious, Harry—but they still plan to let you return next summer, though they insist you spend Christmas and Easter at Hogwarts.”

Harry finally found his voice:

“I always spend Christmas and Easter at Hogwarts.”

He said.

Then Harry waited to hear what they planned to do with him.

“What remains,”

Fudge said, taking a second crumpet and buttering it,

“is where you’ll spend the last three weeks of your summer. I suggest you rent a room here at the Leaky Cauldron—”

“Wait,”

Harry suddenly asked,

“If you know it was ‘me’ who performed the magic, how will you punish me?”

Fudge blinked.

“Punish?”

“I broke the law!”

Harry said,

“The Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!”

“Oh, dear child, we won’t punish you for something so trivial!”

Fudge waved his crumpet impatiently, speaking loudly,

“It was an accident! We don’t send people to Azkaban for inflating their aunts!”

This was nothing like how Harry had ever dealt with the Ministry before.

“Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a cake in my uncle’s house!”

Harry frowned,

“The Ministry said if anyone used magic there again, I’d be expelled from Hogwarts!”

Whether or not Harry’s eyes deceived him, Fudge suddenly looked embarrassed.

“Circumstances have changed, Harry… we must consider… under the current situation… naturally, you don’t want to be expelled, do you?”

“Of course not.”

Harry said.

“Exactly. So why dwell on it?”

Fudge chuckled lightly,

“Now, have a crumpet. Harry, I’ll see if Tom has a room for you.

Then I need to speak with Mr. Green.

I’ve waited a long time for this.”

Fudge strode out of the private room, and Harry stared at his back.

This was strange. If Fudge didn’t intend to punish him, why had he come to the Leaky Cauldron to wait for him?

Harry thought harder. Wasn’t it unusual in itself for the Minister of Magic to personally handle a case of underage magic?

“It’s… Sirius.”

Harry finally understood.

He snapped his head up, staring in shock at the moonlight outside the window.

It was a pale, ghostly glow, tinged with an unreal haze.

“Wizard Sean, is it Sirius?”

Harry knew who to ask.

“Mm.”

Wizard Sean nodded.

“He was Voldemort’s most trusted follower. He escaped from Azkaban. He wants to…”

What did he want to do?

Did it even need asking?

He blew up a whole street—and if there had been a child named Harry Potter on that street, he’d have laughed himself into convulsions.

A wave of terror washed over Harry.

A dangerous fugitive, a powerful one, who had broken out of the most secure prison in the world.

No one knew how he did it, but everyone knew: he was coming to kill Harry Potter!

“That’s why Minister Fudge came…

It wasn’t because we inflated…”

Harry’s throat tightened; he could barely speak.

Since he had entered the magical world, someone had always wanted him dead.

“Yes, Harry.”

Wizard Sean said calmly.

“Wizard Sean, can I go back to Hogwarts with you?”

Harry asked cautiously, tentatively.

It would be better if he could stay with Wizard Sean.

What chilled Harry’s spine was Wizard Sean’s shake of the head.

“I understand.”

Harry didn’t know his voice could sound so hoarse.

“Harry, listen to me.”

As Harry drifted into numbness, Wizard Sean spoke,

“You won’t be in danger.”

“What?”

Harry was dazed.

Before he could grasp the meaning, Fudge and the barkeep Tom returned together.

“Room 10 has just been occupied, but Room 11 is free, Harry,”

Fudge said,

“I think you’ll be quite comfortable. There’s just one thing—I’m sure you’ll understand:

I don’t want you wandering off to Muggle London. Understood?

Don’t leave Diagon Alley. You must return here before dark every night.

You’ll understand. Tom will keep an eye on you.

Oh, now, Mr. Green, may I have a moment of your time?”

Shuowan ， Budengzhehalifanyingguolai ， Fujijiuxiqiyangyangdi ， Jinhushitiezhexienlikaile 。

[101] Having finished speaking, before Harry could react, Fudge beamed and nearly brushed against Wizard Sean as he left.