Chapter 130: End of Term

Harry didn't even bother with breakfast, rushing to read the front-page headline.

"Last night, a large group of terrorists attacked the prison, resulting in the escape of multiple inmates, including dozens of Death Eaters led by the notorious Antonin Dolohov, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Augustus Lestrange. We have reason to believe this was a coordinated, premeditated act—a harbinger of the Dark Forces' return."

"In response, Auror Office Director Lethbridge stated that due to the recent escape of the dangerously violent Sirius Black from Azkaban, the Auror Office has been forced to divert substantial personnel to hunt him down and has deployed heavy guards around Hogwarts to prevent potential attacks. This has left Azkaban's defenses slightly lax, providing an opening for evil forces."

Minister of Magical Law Enforcement Jimhack similarly believes Sirius Black's escape was meant to pave the way for this massive prison breakout. Fortunately, thanks to the Auror Office's precise coordination, we have recaptured Sirius Black and may extract further information about the escape from him."

It is known that Sirius Black is proficient in Animagus transformation and Transfiguration; he is an illegal Rat Animagus who escaped Azkaban through the drainage system and then used Transfiguration to assume various disguises. Investigations reveal his most frequently used form was that of his childhood friend Peter Pettigrew—right up until his arrest, Sirius insisted he was Peter Pettigrew himself. Yet he may not have known that the Ministry's archives clearly recorded his brutal murder of Peter thirteen years ago; the Aurors quickly exposed his lie."

Let us add a note on Peter Pettigrew. After Sirius Black committed his heinous crimes, Pettigrew attempted to pursue him but was accidentally killed by Sirius's Explosion Curse, along with thirteen innocent Muggles. In recognition of his courage, the Ministry posthumously awarded him the First-Class Order of Merlin."

The Ministry's report employed a technique of first depressing, then uplifting: by first announcing the prison break, then the recapture of Pettigrew, and finally linking it to a heroic act from thirteen years ago (though a lie), it effectively eased public panic and preserved its own dignity—Harry could read between the lines.

Yet this could not change the fact that numerous Death Eaters had escaped. It seemed this was Voldemort's grand move after two years of silence. Harry struggled to think: Voldemort's plan was not complex at all—it was remarkably simple.

Because among the original parties, aside from Sirius and Peter, Voldemort himself knew the truth—he knew who had betrayed him. So he also knew Sirius was innocent. Then, how much of Sirius's escape was coincidence, and how much was part of Voldemort's design?

In any case, Voldemort spent nearly a year contacting his old allies, leveraging those who cooperated only partially or were merely pretending loyalty, assembling a force, and rescuing his core subordinates during Azkaban's vulnerable moment.

This was no good news. Harry stared silently at the newspaper. Once Voldemort had nearly regained all his power, what would he do next? Would he target Hogwarts?

"Harry, you've heard the news too, haven't you?" Professor Doudou tapped him on the shoulder from behind. "There's an even worse piece of news: during this prison riot, nearly all the Aurors were killed. Even those who survived are likely unfit to continue serving as Aurors."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He looked around: the children either knew nothing, laughing and eating breakfast, or treated the event as gossip, loudly voicing their opinions.

Only Neville was comforting Ron, saying, "We need to eat well to have strength to fight evil"—this gave Harry slight relief.

"So does that mean there are no more Aurors left to oppose Voldemort?" Harry whispered urgently.

"Perhaps only I remain," Professor Doudou's expression was more serious than ever. "For the Auror Office, there is only one person left."

"But for all righteous forces planning to resist Voldemort," his tone softened slightly, "the loss isn't yet catastrophic. We still have the Department of Mysteries and the Doctor Project."

"Just focus on your studies for now. When term ends, I need to take you to see Ollivander." Professor Doudou looked as if he had made a firm decision. "I hope it works."

Since hearing the news, Harry had been distracted—even when Hagrid announced a very important matter, he barely paid attention.

"I know many students are concerned about their Care of Magical Creatures grades. I can tell you in advance: the exam will involve practical tasks." Hagrid said. "Of course, you may worry about making mistakes during the practical—so we have another option."

"Suppose—just suppose—that our friend Buckbeak accidentally injured a noble's Young Master and is about to face charges." Hagrid struggled to describe his scenario. "You can form groups of three, gather evidence, and try to defend it. If your defense is strong enough, you can skip the exam and receive the highest grade in the course."

"No exam and an Outstanding!" Ron exclaimed. "And it's a team project—I know the best idea is to ask Hermione."

"Good idea," Harry said absently.

It took Harry the entire day to recover from the pressure Voldemort had brought. When he finally came to his senses, he realized Ron had already invited Hermione to join their team to pass Care of Magical Creatures through defense.

Hermione was delighted Hagrid had thought of this plan: first, she lacked confidence in her own practical skills; second, it effectively moved the exam forward, giving her more time to review other subjects during exam week.

After the trio confirmed their team, Harry noticed Hermione was unusually excited—she looked genuinely happy. In fact, Harry fully understood: throughout this year, every time he saw Hermione, she was alone, practically friendless, bearing the burden of an overwhelming course load alone—this pressure must have been crushing her.

That evening, the three went to the library to research for their defense. As expected, Harry saw Zhang Qiu—she too looked noticeably more cheerful.

"Harry, you need to go see Professor Trelawney," Zhang Qiu pulled him up from his chair without hesitation. "Ron, Hermione, good luck."

"I know it was you who suggested this to Hagrid," Hermione gave Zhang Qiu a wide smile. "Listen—I thank you."

"How did you even come up with this crazy idea?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Divination said you'd defend Buckbeak. Since it hasn't actually done anything wrong, we'll just stage a mock trial." Zhang Qiu shrugged. "Come on—we're going to Trelawney's office now. Manual check-and-kill."

"Huh?" Harry was pushed forward, still confused.

"I've figured it out," Zhang Qiu said fiercely. "If the prophecy shows up, fine. If it doesn't—I'll make it happen myself."

"Is it really necessary?" Harry felt uneasy. "Do you really have to do this? I mean, do you really need to fulfill every single prophecy?"

"I've told you hundreds of times—it's to save your life," Zhang Qiu said wearily. "Next year—or even before next year—you'll soon face grave danger. Look at the newspaper—the signs are already emerging."

"True…" Harry knew Voldemort would surely come for him.

"I explained at the start of term: divination relates to fate's gifts," Zhang Qiu said. "I don't know how these gifts manifest, but right now, progress is far too low. In first and second year, I barely met the minimum and got by. This year, I'm aiming for full marks."

"But we've also noticed your prophecies aren't always accurate," Harry countered. "Do you have to force-feed every unfulfilled one?"

"Just do the safe ones first," Zhang Qiu had already dragged him to Trelawney's office door. "Listening to the professor's curse won't cost you a single piece of flesh."

"Curse curse curse?" Harry jumped. He wanted to say more, but it was too late—Trelawney opened the door.

"Fate foretells Harry's plight—he must come to you for guidance," Zhang Qiu said in a mystical tone. "May your inner eye open for him, Master Sybill."

"Oh, yes, yes, come in, Harry," Professor Trelawney clearly fell for it. Harry thought she might be the only person in the castle who could be swayed by Zhang Qiu's divination.

Trelawney's divination room was stiflingly hot. Harry could barely endure it, forcing all his willpower to endure the discomfort and focus on her crystal ball.

"I haven't seen you since the first class, Harry," Trelawney said. "But clearly you've shaken off the ill omen. But… oh."

She emitted a hoarse voice, utterly unlike her own.

"The dark tyrant, with foolish allies, walks the path of vengeance… so powerful, none can stand against him… yet he halts—before love he stops… and returns to darkness…"

"Sorry, child, I seem to have drifted off. Let's return to your fate," Trelawney patted her chest.

"I believe you've already opened your inner eye," Harry didn't want to stay another second. "Thank you for your guidance—I already know what to do."

As soon as he stepped out of the divination room, he forgot everything—love defeating Voldemort sounded too fairy-tale. He still placed his hope for defeating Voldemort in the Doctor Project and Ollivander, as Professor Doudou had mentioned.