bacchusnovels Chapter 548 You're Really Sick
Chapter 548 You're Really Sick
Chapter 544 You're Really Sick
Harry had another dream last night.
However, unlike my previous terrifying dreams, this dream was rather—strange.
It can only be described as strange.
He dreamt that Voldemort, who was already strange, became even stranger—how to put it—his whole body was covered in blood bubbles—blood kept flowing from his ears and mouth, yet he still relentlessly rummaged through the candies on the table.
With each one eaten, its appearance became even stranger.
Candy from the Weasley twins?
Harry didn't believe the Weasley twins could sell candy to Voldemort, much less that Voldemort would be curious about the candy the two used for their pranks—so curious that he would make a mess of himself.
It seems that this was just a nightmare.
There was no foresight whatsoever.
Perhaps the pressure has been too great lately, or perhaps Voldemort has been lying in wait for a long time without taking any action.
Three days.
As the greatest dark wizard of this century (at least that's what Voldemort himself thought), he was tricked by a tiny candy and it took him three whole days to barely recover from his strange symptoms.
This was nothing short of a humiliation for Voldemort.
He didn't tell anyone.
Therefore, during these three days, all Death Eaters received a strict order: they were not to approach Voldemort's room by even half a step.
As for the reason given, Voldemort's explanation was that he was brewing a grand plan.
These words left everyone puzzled.
Could it be that their previous performance went too far, prompting Voldemort to decide to take action personally?
So what is this "plan"?
The intelligence was quickly delivered to Sean's desk.
Sean couldn't see through Voldemort's thoughts, and he found it even harder to imagine that Voldemort had actually been fighting a bitter battle against the Weasley twins' pranks for the past three days.
In fact, the Weasley brothers' "joke merchandise" is quite different from the version in the original story—with ample financial support, they used richer and rarer materials, and the variety and effectiveness of the products were naturally several levels higher.
To find out what Voldemort was planning, Sean gave the following orders:
All undercover agents working under his command must gather as much information as possible and report any suspicious activity immediately.
So even some Death Eaters who were supposed to be out on missions rushed back to Voldemort's castle under the pretext of "having important matters to report," wanting to see for themselves whether he was really up to something.
But nothing was gained.
After all, how could Voldemort allow others to see him in such a disheveled state?
Finally, three nights later, amidst the watchful eyes and eager anticipation of everyone, Voldemort emerged from his room.
"Everyone, drop everything you're doing, grab your wands, and follow me!"
"Where to?"
Bella was stunned. Pettigrew was stunned. Everyone else was stunned too.
"To the Ministry of Magic," Voldemort said.
Why did they suddenly go to the Ministry of Magic?
Did Voldemort and Fudge reach some kind of agreement in these three days?
As one of the eyewitnesses that day, Bella could easily have this idea.
But—Lucius clearly said he hadn't confronted Fudge yet, so how did Voldemort get involved with Fudge?
Bella secretly glanced at everyone in the lobby:
Lucius isn't here. Because of his special status, Lucius isn't often here.
This also prevented her from checking with Lucius immediately.
But no matter what, this message must be delivered completely to the owner.
Bella looked at Pettigrew again, and he returned her a look.
They clearly share the same idea.
"What are we going there for?" Bella suddenly asked, looking up at Voldemort.
Faced with this capable assistant, Voldemort did not hold back on his plans.
"During my seclusion these past few days, something suddenly came to mind."
"More than a decade ago, someone made a prophecy—now it seems that the first part of that prophecy has come true, but we have no way of knowing about the second part—"
"Therefore, before the war begins, just in case—"
"We must get our hands on that prophecy orb."
This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision by Voldemort, but a plan that had been brewing in his mind for a long time.
It just so happens that this opportunity has brought it up.
After all, he had been in seclusion for three whole days, and he would eventually need to find something for himself and his men to do when he came out.
So—let's take this opportunity to officially put this matter into action.
Not only that, Voldemort also intended to use this opportunity to observe:
If I personally take charge, will these idiots still mess things up as they have in the past?
In other words—this is a probing plan that uses this as an excuse to make a fuss.
The recent setbacks in their operations had already aroused Voldemort's suspicions.
Therefore, this is a good opportunity to verify my ideas and find the deeply hidden mole.
If there's any sign of trouble, I can just use my phantom form to leave without suffering any loss.
For the plan to go smoothly.
After Voldemort gave a brief explanation to everyone, he led them to London using the Portkey.
From that day on, Voldemort realized the benefits of the Portkey.
In addition, since they were already at risk of being exposed at any time, they made and collected a lot of door keys from the black market.
To be honest, door keys have always been a best-selling item on the black market and on the black wizard's inventory list.
It's expensive. But it's also a great deal.
Who wouldn't want a portal key to escape when an Auror suddenly appears?
Along the way, the undercover agents frequently exchanged glances, their expressions subtle.
Voldemort mistakenly believed they were worried about what was to come.
After all, the Aurors and the Ministry of Magic's strikers have been growing increasingly powerful lately, searching high and low for them.
Under this pressure, a large number of Death Eaters launched a surprise attack on the Ministry of Magic.
From any perspective, it was an almost insane operation.
It's no exaggeration to say they were like lambs to the slaughter.
But the meaning behind these undercover agents' eye contact was quite clear: who would pass the message to Sean.
Admittedly, this is an extremely dangerous thing.
Especially during an operation, right under Voldemort's nose, any slightest movement could be detected—
may.
Finally, everyone turned to look at Bella.
Bella, the leader of the undercover team, unusually shook her head, indicating that they shouldn't alert the enemy unnecessarily.
With her extensive experience as a Death Eater and her understanding of Voldemort, she had already sensed something unusual.
If Voldemort and Fudge really reached an agreement.
As Fudge's close partner, Lucius must have had prior information, so the master had already received the message, and naturally there was no need for them to risk exposure to pass it on.
Conversely, if Fudge hadn't reached an agreement with Voldemort...
So raiding the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night to get a prophecy orb isn't exactly an urgent matter.
It's not worth going against the grain and taking such a big risk.
On the other side, Hogwarts.
The Umbridge Army's spell training has reached a fever pitch.
The first half of the learning is almost complete; the next step is to review, organize, and consolidate the material.
"Start with obstacle spells, practice in pairs!"
The crowd obediently separated, and the house, which was always ready to grant requests, was soon filled with the sound of "obstacles everywhere".
Those who are cursed will probably be forced to stand still for one minute.
Then you observe other people practicing with your opponent, and then you switch roles with your opponent.
To be honest, a minute is a bit long.
Not counting the time spent casting the spell, he could only cast the spell sixty times an hour, and Tonks always felt that this method was not efficient enough.
Perhaps I should ask my senior for some alchemy tools?
My senior always has some weird and wonderful things.
After completing the training in Obstruction Charms, the next step is Stun Charms.
The area couldn't support so many people practicing the Stunning Charm at the same time, so only half of the people could practice it first.
"Harry, Hermione, you two are already very skilled with the Stunning Charm. Keep up the accuracy."
"Yes, Professor, I'll try again!"
"Thank you, Professor."
The former is Hermione, and the latter is Harry.
Two completely different styles of answers.
"Hermione, you're in charge of correcting the posture of the Gryffindor girls; Harry, you're in charge of the Gryffindor boys."
'
The entire Stunning Curse training lasted about an hour. Everyone was exhausted, but they gained a lot.
After saying goodbye to Tonks in turn, the group left the House of Requirement in batches.
The fifth graders were the first group because they were mostly pressed for time, especially the grade leaders.
The three little ones strolled leisurely down the corridor.
"What do you think of Professor Tonks' teaching?"
"Very good. It would be even better if Tonks could replace Umbridge as our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"It's probably very difficult."
During their conversation, Hermione said goodbye to the two of them and prepared to go to the prefectural bathroom to take a bath and wash away the sweat from training.
This is one of the few tangible benefits that come with being a prefect.
However, upon stepping onto the fourth-floor stairs...
Hermione caught a glimpse of a figure passing by in the corridor out of the corner of her eye.
Even from a distance, one could tell that the figure belonged to Ginny, who had just been in the House of Requirement.
The Gryffindor common room is not in that direction.
Where is she going?
Three minutes later, Hermione followed Ginny to the door of Umbridge's office.
Sure enough, it's here.
Hermione had lost all interest in taking a bath. After confirming that Ginny was still communicating with Umbridge, she returned to the Gryffindor common room.
There weren't many people in the Gryffindor common room.
Harry and Ron aren't here; they're probably taking a shower in their dorm room.
Should we tell them about Ginny?
That's not good. Especially if Ron finds out about this, he'll definitely be very angry or frustrated.
Or perhaps—they simply don't believe her at all.
What should I do?
Meanwhile, Harry went straight to bed after taking a shower.
Unlike usual, he fell asleep exceptionally quickly today, so quickly that he couldn't believe he was already asleep.
Until he switched to a first-person perspective.
Only when he saw the thrilling events unfolding before his eyes did he realize that he had fallen asleep.
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry opened his eyes abruptly, drenched in cold sweat, his forehead feeling as if it had been pierced by a scorching pair of tongs, the pain excruciating.
"Harry!"
Ron stood in front of the bed, his face filled with terror, and there were several figures vaguely visible at the foot of the bed.
He clutched his head, his vision going black from the pain—then he rolled over and lay face down on the edge of the bed, vomiting violently.
"He's really sick," a panicked voice said. "Should we go get someone?"
"Harry! Harry!"
He had to tell Ron what happened in the dream—it was too important.
Harry gasped for breath and struggled to sit up.
"Your father—cough, cough—something's happened to him—"
"What?" Ron asked, bewildered.
"Your father! He's badly injured, there's blood everywhere—"
"I'll go get help!" The terrified voice rang out again, followed by hurried footsteps leaving the dormitory.
"Harry—you—you were just dreaming—"
"No! This isn't a dream—not an ordinary dream—I was there, I saw it with my own eyes—it was me who did it—"
"Harry, you're really sick. Neville went to find someone—"
Ron didn't want to believe it.
Given Harry's illness and his father's accident, any normal person would know how to choose.
However—things often don't go according to plan.
"I'm fine!"
Harry spoke hoarsely, wiping his mouth with his pajamas, his body still trembling uncontrollably.
"I'm not sick! The one we should really worry about is your dad—we need to find out where he is—he's lost a lot of blood."
"...
—
Has a minute passed, or ten minutes?
Harry didn't know. He just sat there, trembling, letting the pain in his forehead slowly subside—suddenly, hurried footsteps came from the stairs, followed by Neville's voice: "Over here, Professor—"
Professor McGonagall hurried over, wearing a plaid morning coat, her glasses perched crookedly on her thin nose.
"What's wrong, Potter? Are you feeling unwell?"
"He's Ron's dad."
Harry struggled to sit up.
"He was bitten by a snake, and he was badly injured. I saw it with my own eyes."
"What did you see?" Professor McGonagall's brows furrowed deeply, her dark eyebrows almost twisted into a knot.
"I—I don't know what happened—I was sleeping, and suddenly I appeared there—"
"1
"You mean, you dreamt about it?"
"Yes and no—it's not the same thing, it's real, not a hallucination! Mr. Weasley is lying on the floor, covered in blood—he's collapsed, and it's very serious! We have to find him as soon as possible!"
Harry was about to say something when Professor McGonagall abruptly interrupted him.
"I believe you, Potter. Put on your dressing gown—we're going to see the headmaster. Weasley, you come too."
A few minutes later, they arrived outside Dumbledore's office, in front of the stone beast guarding the entrance.
"Sizzling honey," Professor McGonagall said.
The stone beast immediately came to life, slowly moving to the side. The wall behind it cracked open, revealing a spiraling, slowly rising stone staircase.
"Minerva, what happened?"
Dumbledore hadn't rested yet; he was sitting behind his desk, intently flipping through a stack of documents.
"Ron's dad is injured."
Before Professor McGonagall could explain, Harry shouted it out.