[HP] Chapter 168-170

### Chapter 168: The Department of Mysteries

After speaking, Dumbledore took out the letter from the Misuse of Magic Office and handed it to Fudge.

Fudge skimmed it quickly, then looked from Louis to Dumbledore.

“The contents here should be accurate, yes?” Fudge asked. “If that’s the case, I can’t help you.”

“They’re not,” Dumbledore replied. “In fact, that Barrier Charm was cast by me, as punishment for the Dursleys’ mistreatment of Harry Potter.”

“As for the previous warning regarding the Levitation Charm—Mr. Wilson has explained it. He was visiting the Dursleys when he was framed by a house-elf. In truth, Harry Potter received a letter as well.” Dumbledore’s tone was calm. “You know as well as I do, Cornelius, that tracking spells aren’t always accurate.”

It seemed everything was going smoothly. A few words from Dumbledore might be enough to clear both Louis and Harry of any wrongdoing.

But then—

“Dumbledore, I’m sorry. What you say makes sense, but the Ministry does not make mistakes.”

The ever-smiling, agreeable Cornelius Fudge had just refused to overturn the punishments.

The Ministry doesn’t make mistakes?

Louis’s face darkened.

Fucking great, how can you say that with a straight face?

Even Dumbledore was momentarily choked into silence. After a long pause, he finally said, “Cornelius, everyone makes mistakes.”

“But the trace does not,” Fudge insisted. “Ministry employees are only fulfilling their duty. Still, I do understand the difficulties faced by Mr. Wilson and Harry Potter. So I can, on my own authority, suppress the warnings for now. They won’t interfere with your schooling. I only hope you, Headmaster, will keep a closer eye on your students to prevent future incidents.”

He said it with the air of a man granting a grand favor. Louis had to fight the urge to smack him across the face.

It looked like the problem was “resolved,” yet nothing was truly settled.

Fudge seemed to think he now had the power to decide Harry Potter’s and Louis’s futures with a word.

What exactly goes on inside this man’s head? Does he really think he can control us like that?

Even Dumbledore looked dumbfounded by Fudge’s twisted reasoning, unsure what to say. Meanwhile, Fudge stepped forward, patted Louis on the shoulder, and gave him a greasy smile that said, Work hard, young man. I believe in you.

Louis almost threw up on the spot.

He shot a pleading look at DumbledorePlease, let’s get out of here before I lose control and beat this man into paste.

But Dumbledore seemed to misinterpret his look, about to speak further—only for Fudge to cut him off.

“Apologies, Dumbledore. I’ve much more to handle tonight. I’ll have to ask you both to leave.” Fudge raised a hand, signaling his secretary to escort them out.

Louis secretly exhaled in relief, following the helpless Dumbledore out of the Minister’s office.

The moment they opened the door, however, a ball of pink came tumbling in, rolling across the floor.

When it stopped, Louis saw it was Umbridge.

She scrambled up quickly, gave Louis a passing glance, then looked smugly at Dumbledore before giving a little huff and strutting away.

Louis was left speechless.

Seriously? How many weirdos does this Ministry have?

Dumbledore, heavy-hearted, stepped into the lift with Louis, who was still nauseated from the encounter. The two exchanged a glance—each saw the same helplessness mirrored in the other’s eyes.

“I imagine you don’t think very highly of Fudge,” Dumbledore said bluntly.

“No point sugarcoating things with you,” Louis replied, baring his white teeth in a grin that gleamed coldly. “If I weren’t worried about causing trouble, Fudge wouldn’t sleep peacefully another night in his life.”

Maybe the Minister would escape nightmares, but Louis had already decided Fudge’s days wouldn’t be easy. He was already scheming about how to make the Ministry’s life difficult.

“Great power must be restrained,” Dumbledore told him. “And those born with such gifts, like you, must be all the more careful.”

“Like you? The greatest wizard alive, yet people treat you like a fool?” Louis chuckled.

“Sometimes, you don’t need to win a contest to achieve your goal,” Dumbledore offered, passing on a fragment of his philosophy.

But their conversation was cut short when the sound of the lift startled them.

They hadn’t pressed any buttons—the lift had started moving on its own.

Before Louis could act, the lift sped downward, stopping at Level Nine.

“Level Nine? Headmaster, what’s down here?” Louis asked, watching the glowing floor numbers with curiosity.

“Level Nine is the Department of Mysteries,” Dumbledore explained. “A very secretive place. Normally outsiders aren’t allowed inside. Don’t touch anything—when someone comes in, we’ll ride back up.”

“The Department of Mysteries…”

Louis’s thoughts stirred. He remembered this was the wizarding world’s laboratory, where they studied objects imbued with unique powers.

The most important chambers here were the Hall of Time, where Time-Turners were kept, and the Hall of Prophecy, filled with crystal spheres containing prophecies.

The prophecy about Voldemort and the Boy Who Lived was kept here.

“Time-Turners, huh…” A spark lit Louis’s eyes.

He was very curious about them. Normally, the only way to get one was in third year—if a student selected every single subject, Hogwarts would apply for a Time-Turner on their behalf.

But that one would be tightly supervised, with little freedom of use. And realistically, students’ schedules were packed enough without stretching themselves thin.

Louis, of course, had energy to spare—but he wasn’t about to waste time taking extra classes just for that.

If possible, he’d rather steal one directly.

At that thought, a pair of scarlet eyes slowly opened within the shadow beneath his feet.

Standing at Louis’s side, Dumbledore suddenly felt a chill in the air. But he dismissed it, assuming it came from the Department itself.

The lift’s light cast Louis’s shadow onto the metal doors. As the doors slid open, two cloaked figures stepped inside.

They were Unspeakables, the Department’s secretive operatives, all trained in Occlumency and sworn to silence.

In the space between them, Louis’s shadow stretched outward, merging seamlessly with the pitch darkness beyond the threshold.

The scarlet eyes vanished. When they reappeared, they were already nestled deep in that darkness.

The lift doors closed again, and Louis’s shadow was once more cast upon them—though the chill in the cabin had lessened slightly.

The lift began to ascend, carrying Dumbledore, Louis, and the two Unspeakables back to the Level Eight Atrium.

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### Chapter 169: The Shadow Legion

With a twist, Dumbledore brought Louis back to Little Whinging. This time, Louis felt much better—none of that sick, retching sensation.

“Sorry,” Dumbledore said regretfully, “we didn’t manage to fully solve your problem. But as long as you’re more careful, there shouldn’t be any more trouble.”

You said it yourself—‘shouldn’t’…

Louis smiled faintly but gave no answer.

Next time, he wouldn’t risk it. He’d just toss the wand with the Trace on it to Garrick Ollivander and let them worry about detecting it.

If it weren’t for concerns that hiding the wand in his storage space might interfere with the Ministry’s tracking and make things even messier, he never would’ve had this problem at all.

He realized it a bit late—if he’d thought of it sooner, none of this would’ve happened.

“But Harry’s situation is settled, isn’t it? At least next summer should be a little easier for him.” Louis said, lying through his teeth.

In reality, next summer would be far worse. Someone even more troublesome than the Dursleys was going to be staying—Vernon Dursley’s sister, a foul-mouthed old hag. With her around, even Vernon couldn’t get a word in.

That wasn’t exactly Vernon’s fault, more like an unavoidable disaster.

“Yes, we didn’t come away empty-handed after all.” Dumbledore smiled, then turned to Louis with a sudden question: “By the way, Louis, would you like to learn something… deeper?”

Tonight’s events had convinced him Louis wasn’t an irredeemable bully. At the very least, he had a kind streak. So Dumbledore decided to pass along Nicolas Flamel’s offer.

“Deeper knowledge?” Louis raised an eyebrow. “You’re planning to tutor me privately?”

“No, not me. A friend of mine,” Dumbledore clarified.

Hearing that all-too-familiar line, Louis almost blurted out, Are you sure this so-called friend isn’t just you? It took everything he had to keep it in.

Unaware of Louis’s struggle to hold back, Dumbledore went on, “I recently visited an old friend. His time is running short, and before he passes, he wants to take on a student. He’s heard of you, and asked me to see if you’d be willing.”

An old friend? Running out of time?

Louis immediately thought of the old man he’d caught spying on him through a crystal ball… then of Nicolas Flamel, who had lost the Philosopher’s Stone.

The two images overlapped.

“Nicolas Flamel?” Louis asked.

Dumbledore nodded. “So you do know.”

“Just a reasonable guess,” Louis said, shrugging. “You suddenly say someone’s time is nearly up. The only thing I could think of was the Philosopher’s Stone—and its master, Nicolas Flamel.”

“So? Do you accept?” Dumbledore asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? It’s a good thing,” Louis replied.

“Excellent. Then I’ll come fetch you next summer holiday,” Dumbledore said with a nod. “Be sure to inform your parents in advance.”

“Wait—summer holiday?” Louis froze.

“That’s right. Summer. You don’t have time at any other point, do you?” Dumbledore said. “Is there a problem?”

Problem? A huge one! Louis thought bitterly. My parents already promised to take me abroad next summer!

Louis’s salted-fish nature almost flared up—he nearly thought about rejecting Dumbledore on the spot.

Fortunately, he held back. Vacations could wait for any year, but Nicolas Flamel was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Without the Philosopher’s Stone, the old man’s days were numbered.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Louis said with difficulty, nodding. “It’s settled then. Goodbye, Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Hogwarts will see you,” Dumbledore said, then Disapparated.

Watching him vanish, Louis sighed and slipped quietly back home.

He had left so silently that his parents never even knew he’d been gone.

Back in his room, Louis didn’t hurry to sleep. Instead, he pulled out Tala’s mask from his storage space.

Black qi surged from his brow, connecting faintly with the mask.

The surroundings dimmed as though veiled in a gray shadow. From beneath the bed, from cracks in the desk and chair, from the lampshade above—pairs of scarlet eyes opened one by one.

Whispering filled the room, eerie and incomprehensible, until it seemed the entire chamber had become part of the shadow itself. Then, figures clad in black—like ninjas—stepped out from the darkness, crowding the room.

The Ghost Ninja Corps, the Shadow Legion’s most skilled assassins and infiltrators.

Through relentless effort, Louis had managed—without any auxiliary materials—to use his black qi to awaken a portion of the mask’s power. Just like Shendu, he had seized partial control over the Shadow Legion.

But his mastery was incomplete. Normally he could summon only one or two Ghost Ninjas. Only by holding the mask could he call forth a large number at once.

Earlier, in the Department of Mysteries, he had already sent one ninja as a scout. Now, he meant to dispatch more to infiltrate the Ministry and lie in wait as a blade he could strike with at any time.

“Just for Fudge’s smug attitude—if you survive stepping down from office, I’ll take your surname!” Louis muttered. At his side, the Ghost Ninjas instantly melted into shadow and sped toward London’s Whitehall.

Shadows seep everywhere. They would reach the Ministry quickly. And once inside, Louis intended to bide his time—perhaps even strip the Department of Mysteries bare.

As for Fudge? He’d leave him alive for now, only to kill him later once his natural fall from office came. Killing him too early would push the plot in unpredictable directions—not good for farming Fate Points.

The pitch-black night belonged to the Ghost Ninja Corps.

Though slower than Apparition, their movement through shadows was far swifter than any ordinary transport.

Soon Louis sensed them arrive near Whitehall, then merge into shadowy clusters, ready to slip below ground.

Suddenly, one of his ninjas dropped dead—a scout who had tried to slip inside the Ministry, obliterated by an automatic defensive ward.

So, the Ministry was no easy target; its defenses were formidable.

Louis pressed on, sending in more ninjas.

Only a fraction managed to infiltrate. The rest were cut down by protective spells, dissipating back into the Shadow Realm.

But the Ministry had not noticed the Shadow Legion’s incursion.

“As expected of the Ministry—their defenses are strong. But their vigilance… a little lacking.”

Louis shook his head, watching his Ghost Ninjas sink into the shadows scattered throughout the Ministry and lie hidden in wait.

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### Chapter 170: The Stone Door of the Department of Mysteries

The Shadow Realm was the world’s reverse side. In theory, one could use it to reach any corner of the earth.

But in practice, that was nearly impossible. The Shadow Realm was chaotic, without up or down, without direction. Even its native inhabitants couldn’t match its locations with the real world.

To use it for travel, one needed two corresponding anchor points.

Still, while he couldn’t walk through it, Louis could at least send signals and control his ninja soldiers from afar.

Through the Shadow Realm, his eyes watched as the ninja soldiers hidden in the Ministry linked up with those in the Department of Mysteries.

Everything went smoothly. Using the elevator shaft, nine ninja soldiers slipped into the Department, joining the one he had already placed there. Ten in total—enough for Louis to one day empty the Time Room of its Time-Turners.

But not yet. He couldn’t act so soon after he and Dumbledore had “accidentally” stumbled into the place. It would raise suspicion.

Exploration, however, could begin. They would lurk, prepare, and when the time was right—strike and vanish in one motion.

The Department of Mysteries had seven known chambers: the Brain Room, the Time Room, the Planet Room, the Hall of Prophecy, the Unspeakables’ office, a locked chamber, and the Death Chamber.

As the wizarding world’s most secret place, every item here deserved study—each hiding magical mysteries still unsolved.

But exploration required secrecy. Louis had no intention of exposing his Shadow Legion too early.

The ten ninja soldiers gathered in the circular atrium, the place the lift opened into. Before them stood twelve identical doors.

Blue firelight flickered over the ancient stone walls. It was Ever-Burning Blue Flame, the atrium’s only light source.

Fiendfyre and this flame were opposites.

Fiendfyre was violent, destructive, but easy to conjure—any wizard trained in the spell could unleash it, only to be consumed in turn.

Blue Flame, on the other hand, was steady and nearly unquenchable, but almost impossibly difficult to create. Only a handful of wizards in the entire world could produce it.

“Compared to this, Fiendfyre feels like some cruel joke—easy to grasp, but eager to devour you,” Louis thought, unimpressed. Not even as pure as phoenix fire.

At his command, the ten ninja soldiers each chose a door. Two doors were left untouched. As they stepped through, the walls turned, the twelve identical doors whirling until it was impossible to know who had entered which.

It mattered little. Louis quickly saw that soldiers who had gone through different doors sometimes ended up in the same room.

Five of them emerged in a cramped office—unfortunately, with three Unspeakables working inside.

Luckily, ninja stealth was absolute. The instant they saw humans, they melted into shadows and vanished.

The remaining five scattered through other chambers.

It seemed the Department’s layout was strange. Except for the locked chamber and the Hall of Prophecy, every room now held at least one ninja.

Two of them prowled the Death Chamber—also known as the Hall of Death, or even the Execution Chamber.

This was the place where, in the original timeline, Sirius Black had died. At its center stood the ancient stone archway.

The chamber resembled an amphitheater, about half a football field in size. The square room sank downward in tiers of steps, like seating for an audience. In the very center, on a raised dais, stood the stone arch.

Unsupported, it stood upright—impossible by physics, but perfectly natural for magic.

Through his soldiers’ eyes, Louis saw nothing outwardly special about it.

Still, it demanded attention. If given the chance, he would come study the arch in person.

For now, he could experiment.

At his order, one ninja approached the arch without hesitation. As it neared, Louis thought he glimpsed skeletal hands waving within the fluttering veil, only for them to vanish.

Far away in his bedroom, Louis frowned. The unclear vision was unpleasant.

Then the ninja stepped fully into the arch’s domain. At once Louis felt a jolt—as though a massive hand had seized the soldier. Through the ninja’s eyes, a hollow gaze looked back at him.

The soldier shattered into shadow and was gone.

Louis shot to his feet, face grim.

His hair paled, as though something was draining his life from afar. His youthful features dimmed, wrinkles spreading across his skin.

“Hmph!”

Louis snorted coldly. Golden vertical pupils blazed in his eyes. In an instant, his body became pure flame, burning away the unknown curse.

The sensation of life being siphoned faded. His body returned to normal—no wrinkles, no white hair, nothing left behind but a phantom memory.

The heat dissipated slowly. Louis waved his hand, the Horse Talisman’s restorative power repairing the scorch marks his flames had left.

“What was that?” he muttered, troubled.

Why did this world harbor such terrors—things that could drain life with a glance?

“Could it be Death itself?” Louis thought of the Deathly Hallows’ legend. “Does that arch lead to the realm of the dead?”

And with Harry Potter’s Invisibility Cloak—could one stroll through undetected, taking a day trip to the other side?

The idea fascinated him. But now wasn’t the time for side quests.

“Wait until Voldemort’s great battle is over. At least rack up a few dozen Legendary Draws first, then take the risk,” Louis muttered.

Then he flopped onto his bed and went limp.

He’d had enough for one day. No more.

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