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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