Chapter 91: Displaced Spacetime, the Embarrassed Malfoy
At this moment, Morrin White did not stop it.
He stood quietly to the side, opening the [Gate of Truth], greedily analyzing the highest-level Dark Artslaws of this "resurrection."
[Recording: The entire process of Horcrux body reshaping]
[Analysis progress: 50%... 80%...]
This was his purpose.
What he wanted was not to stop Lord Voldemort, but to learn how to manufacture this kind of immortal body.
Boom!
A large amount of white mist rose up.
A tall, thin, pale figure slowly rose from the cauldron.
He had a skull-like face, snake-like nostrils, and a pair of scarlet eyes.
Lord Voldemort had returned.
He touched his body and let out a satisfied sigh.
Then, he suddenly turned his head, those red eyes looking at Morrin White standing in the shadows.
"Now..."
Lord Voldemort raised the yew wand that the puppet had prepared earlier:
"...Let's talk 'business,' Mr. White."
"I think the first transaction will be your life."
Facing the Dark Lord in his prime, there was no fear on Morrin's face.
He gripped the black ironwood wand that had evolved to its limit, and the [Half-Giant Bloodline] and [Magic Power Furnace] within him began to operate frantically.
"Want to renege on the debt?"
Morrin's pupils turned golden.
"It seems we need to talk about the 'liquidated damages'."
The great battle was on the verge of breaking out.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Lord Voldemort did not hesitate in the slightest.
Having just been resurrected, he desperately needed a slaughter to celebrate his new power, and also to wash away the anger of being verbally humiliated by this boy just now.
The blinding green light was like a venomous snake, instantly crossing the distance between life and death, heading straight for Morrin's face.
Harry shouted in terror, "Get out of the way!"
Morrin White did not move.
He didn't even blink.
Deep in his pupils, that golden light suddenly turned into a tiny, reverse-rotating hourglass.
[Trait Activated]: Sand of Time (Gold)
[Effect]: Self-timeline regression by 0.5 seconds.
On the retinas of Harry and Lord Voldemort, a bizarre scene occurred.
The green light had clearly hit Morrin's body, even penetrating his chest.
But in the next instant, it was as if an old film had skipped a frame.
Hum—
Morrin's figure "flickered."
He was not standing in his original spot, but appeared out of thin air two meters to the left, still leaning on his wand, his posture elegant, as if he had always been standing there.
The Killing Curse pierced through the afterimage he left behind, slamming into a tombstone behind him, blowing the marble to pieces.
"Missed?" Lord Voldemort's red eyes narrowed, revealing a dangerous doubt, "No... it wasn't Apparition. No crack. You... moved time?"
"Just a small step adjustment, Tom."
Morrin raised his wand, the tip pointing at the ground.
"It is only polite to return the favor."
[Gate of Truth (Gold)] — Matter Reconstruction: Steel Jungle.
"Rise!"
Rumble—
The ground of the entire graveyard shook violently.
The mud beneath Lord Voldemort's feet suddenly exploded, and dozens of sharp, metallic black iron spears, instantly refined and reorganized from the iron elements in the graveyard soil, burst out of the ground, stabbing toward Lord Voldemort's limbs and torso like a cage!
"Trivial tricks!"
Lord Voldemort snorted coldly, waved his yew wand, and his body turned into a plume of black smoke, rising into the sky to avoid the ground spikes.
He circled in the air like a giant bat.
"I am immortal! I am great!"
Lord Voldemort laughed wildly in the sky, waving his wand.
Countless black spells fell like raindrops.
Crucio, Blasting Curses, Fiendfyre... Morrin had to turn from offense to defense.
He waved his black ironwood wand, constructing complex alchemical shields in front of him.
The [Half-Giant Bloodline] gave him strong damage resistance; even if some spells grazed the shields and hit him, it only made him frown.
"Does this guy... have endless magic?" Morrin was secretly startled.
The magic intensity of the newly resurrected Lord Voldemort was indeed terrifying.
If he hadn't frantically stacked traits over the past few years, he might have been killed in a single encounter.
Just as the two were at a stalemate.
A series of dense cracks suddenly came from the air.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Figures wearing cloaks and masks manifested around the graveyard.
They approached cautiously, and when they saw the black figure in the sky, they all knelt on the ground trembling, even crawling forward.
The Death Eaters had arrived.
"Master... Master..."
They kissed the hem of Lord Voldemort's robes.
Lord Voldemort landed back on the ground, enjoying this long-lost worship and fear.
His red eyes swept over this circle of kneeling people.
"You have come... you are all very clever, not running away like that coward Karkaroff."
Lord Voldemort's voice was soft and deadly.
He walked up to a Death Eater who was trembling the most and tore off his mask.
Revealing Lucius Malfoy's pale, sweat-drenched face.
"Lucius, my cunning friend," Lord Voldemort said softly, "I hear you've been doing quite well these past few years? Calling the shots in the Ministry of Magic? Even... doing business with a Muggle-born merchant?"
Lucius was so scared he almost fainted.
He felt his master's killing intent.
But what terrified him even more was that when he looked up, he saw the person standing opposite.
Morrin White.
The man who controlled half of the House of Malfoy's wealth—that was his current "boss."
At this time, Morrin was standing by a broken tombstone, leaning on his wand, looking at the kneeling Lucius with a half-smile.
That look was like looking at an employee caught arriving late for work.
"Good evening, Lucius," Morrin suddenly spoke, his voice clearly reaching every Death Eater's ears. "Since you're here, why not say hello to your 'partner'?"
Dead silence.
The Death Eaters looked at Morrin in shock.
Who was this boy? How dare he speak like that in front of the Dark Lord?
Lord Voldemort turned around, looked at Morrin, and then at Lucius.
"Partner?" Lord Voldemort let out a shrill sneer. "Lucius, you have fallen. You actually submit to a child?"
"No... Master... it's not..." Lucius was incoherent; caught between two Dark Lords, he felt like he was about to break apart.
"Enough."
Lord Voldemort seemed to lose patience.
He didn't want to hear explanations.
Tonight, he wanted to establish his authority.
"Since you are all here, let us end this farce."
Lord Voldemort turned to Harry Potter, who had been shrinking in the back, clutching his scar and groaning in pain.
"Harry Potter," Lord Voldemort called softly. "Come here. I want my servants to see how the so-called 'the Boy Who Lived' is so fragile in the face of true power."
"As for you, White..." Lord Voldemort glanced at Morrin White. "After I kill Potter, I will turn you into the most perfect Inferi."
"Crucio!"
Lord Voldemort first gave Harry a Crucio.
Harry rolled on the ground in pain, but he gritted his teeth and did not beg for mercy.
"Stand up! Duel!" Lord Voldemort forced Harry to stand up. "Like a man!"
Harry stood up trembling and raised his wand.
He had no way out.
Morrin was surrounded by Death Eaters; although Morrinwas strong, there were too many of them.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.
"Avada Kedavra!" Lord Voldemort screamed.
A red light, a green light.
The two spells collided in the air.
Hum—!
At that moment, the world seemed to stand still.
The two wands, both containing the same Phoenix feather, resonated.
A golden web of light enveloped the two of them, isolating Morrin and the Death Eaters outside.
"This is..." Morrin narrowed his eyes, looking at the web of light.
The [Gate of Truth] analyzed frantically.
[Detected high-level law phenomenon: Priori Incantatem]
[Core principle: Homologous magic resonance]
"The opportunity has come."
Morrin did not try to break the light web to go in and help.
He knew Harry wouldn't die.
What he had to do was retreat.
Chapter 92: The Intercepted Kiss of Death
While all the Death Eaters were distracted by this stunning scene, Morrin quietly retreated, nearing the edge of that golden web of light.
He looked at Lucius, who was kneeling on the ground.
Morrin's fingers lightly tapped his wand, sending a signal: three long, one short.
It was their agreed-upon "Emergency Business Code," meaning: Provide cover, or I withdraw my capital.
Lucius's entire body jolted.
He looked at Morrin, then at Lord Voldemort, who was fully concentrated on casting spells at Potter.
A battle raged within his mind.
Just then, ghosts appeared within the web of light.
Old Frank, Bertha Jorkins... and Lily and James.
They emerged from Lord Voldemort's wand.
This time, Cedric was not among them.
Because he was still alive; he had not died under Lord Voldemort's wand.
The souls of James and Lily surrounded Harry, whispering words of encouragement.
"Break the connection, Harry! Run in that direction! Your friend is over there!"
"Break!" Harry abruptly jerked his wand upward.
The web of light shattered.
Lord Voldemort let out an angry roar, his vision temporarily obscured by the ghosts.
Harry turned and ran.
But he suddenly realized a desperate problem: the Triwizard Cup, the portkey, had already been taken by Cedric!
This graveyard was under an Anti-Apparition Charm; how were they going to get back?
"This way! Harry!"
Morrin's voice rang out amidst the chaos.
He hadn't looked for the trophy like in the original story; instead, he pulled from his robes a pre-prepared Galleonshimmering with alchemical radiance.
It was the [Emergency Evacuation Portkey] he had specially crafted.
"Grab my hand!" Morrin bellowed.
Harry lunged forward and grabbed Morrin's arm.
"Trying to run?!"
Lord Voldemort pushed past the ghosts, fury erupting from his red eyes.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A bolt of green light shot directly toward them.
[Sand of Time (Gold)] — Activated! [Time: 0.5 Seconds]
In Morrin's perception, time froze for an instant.
He didn't dodge; instead, he used this 0.5-second time difference to forcibly activate the portkey in his hand.
"Activate!"
Whoosh—
The bolt of green light grazed Harry's scalp and struck the angel statue behind them, blowing it to smithereens.
A split second before the green light hit, Morrin and Harry's figures twisted, spun, and vanished into thin air.
Only Lord Voldemort's furious roars echoed through the graveyard... A few seconds later, outside the maze at Hogwarts.
Bang!
Two figures slammed heavily onto the grass.
The surrounding area was a chaotic mess of noise.
Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Minister Fudge, and a large crowd of students were gathered around the maze exit.
In the center of the crowd was Cedric Diggory, who had already teleported back and was incoherently explaining the situation with an anxious face.
"They're still there! That graveyard! You-Know-Who... You-Know-Who has returned!" Cedric shouted, still clutching the trophy tightly.
Just then, Morrin and Harry tumbled down beside him.
"Harry! Morrin!" Cedric cried out in pleasant surprise, rushing over to help the two of them up. "Thank goodness! You're back!"
Harry slumped on the ground, gasping for air. Looking at Cedric's familiar, living face, tears welled up in his eyes.
He had survived.
Everyone had survived.
"Voldemort..." Harry grabbed Dumbledore's robes with trembling hands. "Professor... Voldemort is back... in the graveyard..."
The entire area fell into instant silence.
That terrifying name made everyone hold their breath.
Morrin brushed the dust off his trench coat and stood up calmly.
He didn't speak, silently tucking the small vial containing the [Voldemort Resurrection Residual Fluid] deep into his inner pocket.
He glanced at Cedric, who was full of lingering fear, and then at Harry, who was terrified but hadn't broken down.
"Though the process was a bit harrowing."
Morrin looked up at the imperfect moon in the sky, a cold smirk playing on his lips.
"At least... I didn't lose money."
He had not only obtained the sample but also saved Cedric, the "Hogwarts Champion."
This meant he had secured another massive favor from Hufflepuff and the Diggory Family.
"The war has begun, Professor Dumbledore."
Morrin watched the Aurors rushing over to maintain order and said silently in his heart:
"This time, it won't be a tragedy of only sacrifice."
"This will be a war... where I set the price."
The lawn outside the maze was in chaos.
Cedric Diggory was still trembling as he described the horrors of the graveyard to those around him. Amos Diggory held his returned son, weeping tears of relief.
"He saved me!" Cedric pointed at Morrin. "If it weren't for White... I would have died under that green light!"
All eyes focused on the young man in black who was calmly straightening his cuffs.
"This is impossible..." Minister Fudge's face was pale, his hands clutching his bowler hat. "You-Know-Who... resurrected? This is just... just a hallucination of children! Or some kind of Dark Arts trap!"
"Come with me, Harry."
Just then, Mad-Eye Moody limped through the crowd, his magical eye spinning wildly.
He grabbed Harry's arm with startling strength.
"You need medical attention... you need rest..." Moodydragged Harry toward the Castle.
Harry's mind was a mess, and he instinctively wanted to follow the Professor.
"Let him go."
A black ironwood wand blocked the path between Moodyand Harry.
Morrin White stood in the way.
He looked at Moody's scarred face, a mocking arc curling at the corner of his mouth.
"The match is over, Professor Moody. Or should I call you... Mr. Crouch?"
Moody's body stiffened for a moment, his hand reaching into his robes for his wand. "Move aside, White! This is none of your business!"
"Of course it's my business."
Morrin's wand pressed down sharply, pinning Moody's wrist as he reached for his own wand.
[Half-Giant Strength] erupted.
With a sharp "crack," Moody's wrist snapped, and his wand fell to the ground.
"As a Security Consultant, I have the duty to verify the identity of anyone attempting to take away a 'High-Value Protected Target'."
Morrin's other hand shot out like lightning, snatching the hip flask from Moody's waist.
He shook the flask.
Empty.
"Out of Polyjuice Potion?" Morrin looked at him coldly. "It seems your transformation time is up."
Under the horrified gazes of Harry and the surrounding students, Moody's face began to twist and melt. The scars vanished, the wooden leg fell off, and the magical eye popped out with a "plop."
Seconds later, a pale, straw-haired young man lay on the ground, gasping for breath.
Barty Crouch Jr.
"Good heavens!" Professor McGonagall gasped, covering her mouth.
Chapter 93: The Ministry of Magic's "Fig Leaf"
"That is... that is my son!" Barty Crouch, who had just been revived and had been delirious, was released by Morrin to identify the scene, letting out a desperate wail.
Albus Dumbledore strode over, his wand pointed at Barty Crouch Jr., his eyes terrifyingly stern.
"It seems the truth has come to light." Morrin stepped back, leaving the stage to Albus Dumbledore.
Half an hour later, Principal's office.
This was a high-level confrontation regarding truth and lies.
Dosed with Veritaserum, Barty Crouch Jr. revealed everything: how he threw his name into the Goblet of Fire, how he turned the trophy into a portkey, and... Lord Voldemort had indeed returned.
"This... this is madness..." Fudge paced back and forth in the office, sweating profusely. "A person cannot come back from the dead! This must be a conspiracy! It's Black! Or perhaps..."
"It is the truth, Cornelius." Albus Dumbledore said calmly, "You need to take action. Withdraw the Dementors, contact the Giants..."
"Impossible!" Fudge shrieked. "You want to create panic! You want to seize my power!"
Just then, there was a knock at the office door.
Without waiting for a reply, the door was pushed open.
Two Dementors in tattered cloaks floated in, and the temperature in the entire room instantly dropped to freezing. They were the bodyguards Fudge had brought.
They seemed to smell the desperate and delicious soul aura on Barty Crouch Jr., and rushed toward him impatiently.
"No!" Professor McGonagall shouted.
If kissed by a Dementor, Barty Crouch Jr. would become a soulless husk, and all his testimony would be invalidated!
Fudge did not stop them; a flicker of relief even flashed in his eyes. As long as the witness "disappeared," he could deny everything.
"Get out."
A golden barrier appeared out of thin air, blocking the space between the Dementors and Barty Crouch Jr.
Morrin White stood before the barrier.
He did not use the Patronus Charm.
He held that black ironwood wand in his hand, and the alchemical gem embedded at the tip of the wand was emitting a high-frequency magical fluctuation that the Dementors found extremely repulsive.
"Minister."
Morrin turned, looking at Fudge, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a dead man:
"In my school, allowing these filthy creatures to execute my prisoner of war? Did you ask for the Board of Governors' opinion?"
"White! This is Ministry of Magic business!" Fudge said, blustering.
"This is 'destroying evidence'."
Morrin approached Fudge step by step; the dual oppression stemming from capital and power made the Ministerretreat step by step until he bumped into the desk.
"Listen, Cornelius."
Morrin addressed him by his first name, his voice low:
"You can choose not to believe Lord Voldemort has returned. You can choose to continue whitewashing the peace."
"But this person..." Morrin pointed to Barty Crouch Jr., "...must stay alive. He is the key to proving Hogwarts' innocence, proving Cedric hasn't gone mad, and proving Harry is not a liar."
"If you let the Dementors kill him now..."
Morrin pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket; it was the draft of tomorrow's front page of The Daily Prophet.
"...By tomorrow morning, every Wizard in Britain will know that the Minister for Magic, in order to cover up the truth, actually murdered a witness at Hogwarts."
"By then, how much of your approval rating do you think will be left?"
Fudge looked at Morrin, then at Albus Dumbledore, who was silently supporting Morrin beside him.
He broke down.
He was a politician; what he feared most was scandal.
"Fine! Fine!" Fudge waved his top hat and roared at the Dementors, "Get out! All of you, get out!"
The Dementors retreated unwillingly.
Barty Crouch Jr. was saved. Although he would be imprisoned for life, the secrets in his head and that mouth of his remained.
"A wise choice."
Morrin took back the parchment, and that standard, inscrutable smile returned to his face.
"In return, Minister, I can assure you that as long as the Ministry of Magic does not actively cause trouble, The Daily Prophet will try to be... gentler in its future reports."
Fudge left in anger, refusing all of Albus Dumbledore's suggestions. The rift between the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts was now a foregone conclusion.
...
The night before leaving school.
Harry sat by the window in the common room, watching the night outside.
Cedric was still alive; this was a blessing in disguise. But he could not forget the horror of Lord Voldemort's resurrection, nor could he forget that green light.
"Here."
A hand handed over a cup of hot cocoa.
It was Morrin.
"How did you get in?" Harry did not take it, asking vigilantly.
"I have a key." Morrin placed the cup on the windowsill and leaned against the wall.
"You knew all along, didn't you?" Harry asked suddenly. "You knew it was a portkey, you knew it was a trap."
"I just prepared for the worst." Morrin did not deny it.
"You used me." Harry stared at Morrin. "You used me to draw out Lord Voldemort. If Cedric had died... if I had died..."
"But you didn't die."
Morrin interrupted him, his tone calm to the point of cruelty:
"Harry, this is a results-oriented world. The process doesn't matter; what matters is—Lord Voldemort has returned, but he did not achieve a perfect victory. His servant was captured, and his secret was exposed."
"And we have bought ourselves time."
Morrin pulled a heavy money bag from his robe and placed it in front of Harry.
"What is this?"
"The prize money from the Triwizard Tournament. One thousand Galleons." Morrin said. "Cedric gave you his share as well. He said it's what you deserve."
Harry wanted to throw the money bag back.
"Don't throw it." Morrin held down his hand. "If you don't want it, give it to the Weasley Twins. They need startup capital to open that joke shop. In this coming dark age, people need laughter."
Harry was stunned. He thought of Fred and George's dream.
"Goodbye, Harry."
Morrin straightened up and adjusted his trench coat.
"Enjoy your summer vacation. Because next semester..."
Morrin walked to the door, looked back at Harry, a flicker of complex light flashing in his eyes:
"...We will face a real war. Not just a war of magic, but also—a reshuffling of power."
Morrin walked out of Gryffindor Tower.
In the corridor, Luna was waiting for him barefoot.
"You have Black smoke on you, Morrin." Luna looked at him. "It's thicker than before."
"That is the smell of gunpowder, Luna."
Morrin took her hand and walked towards the dungeons.
"Lord Voldemort has returned. He will gather the Giants, Werewolves, and Dementors."
"But he will discover..."
Morrin touched the bottle of [Resurrection Residue] extracted from Lord Voldemort in his pocket, a haughty smile curling the corner of his mouth.
"...In this market, the biggest bookmaker is no longer him."
Chapter 94: The Phoenix's Invitation and the Arms Dealer's Refusal
Hogwarts Hospital Wing.
The ward was deathly quiet, save for the busy footsteps of Madam Pomfrey and the faint clinking of medicine bottles. Harry lay in bed, covered in bandages, but he was not asleep. His eyes were wide open, staring fixedly at the ceiling, replaying the flash of green light in the graveyard and Lord Voldemort's snake-like face in his mind.
It was a nightmare he could not shake off.
At his bedside, a huge, gaunt black dog lay there, guarding its godson.
Molly Weasley sat by the bed, clutching a wet handkerchief tightly, her eyes red and swollen.
At the other end of the ward, several adults were gathered around a table, the atmosphere heavy and palpable.
Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, and... Morrin White, who was not injured but still lingered here.
"Fudge has left." Dumbledore broke the silence, his voice tired and old. "He refuses to believe that Lord Voldemorthas returned. He even withdrew the Aurors who were originally assigned to protect Barty, trying to dismiss all of this as the delusions of a madman."
"That fool!" Professor McGonagall's lips turned white with anger. "If he doesn't take action, Lord Voldemort will regroup the Death Eaters right under his nose!"
"He is already regrouping."
Snape spoke coldly.
His complexion was paler than usual, his right hand pressing hard against his left forearm, his knuckles white from the exertion. A searing pain seemed to be radiating from there, causing him to hunch over slightly.
He did not roll up his sleeve, but looked at Dumbledorewith those hollow eyes, his voice low and hoarse:
"It burns worse than ever before. Even here, I can feel the summons... He is angry because we were late."
Dumbledore looked at Snape's pained expression, nodded slightly, a flicker of pity in his eyes.
"Go, Severus." Dumbledore said softly, "You know what you must do."
"If I do not return..." Snape paused, his gaze sweeping over Harry on the hospital bed, a flash of extremely subtle emotion in his eyes before returning to indifference, "...then it means he no longer trusts me."
"Go and fulfill my duty." Snape turned, his black robes billowing, walking toward the door like a giant bat.
Dumbledore nodded, then turned to the black dog lying by the bed.
"Sirius, change back."
The black dog jumped up, instantly transforming into a gaunt man.
Sirius Black.
"You need to contact those old friends, Sirius." Dumbledoreinstructed, "Lupin is already in action. And Mundungus, The Weasley Family... we need to reorganize the Order of the Phoenix."
"No problem." Sirius's eyes burned with the fire of revenge, "I have waited for this day for a long time."
After arranging all this, Dumbledore finally turned around, his azure eyes gazing deeply through his half-moon spectacles at Morrin, who had been sitting by the window, fiddling with his black ironwood wand.
"And you, Mr. White?"
Everyone in the room focused their gaze on Morrin.
He was the key figure tonight.
He saved Cedric, he faced Lord Voldemort in the graveyard, he even controlled so many resources.
"You have shown extraordinary courage and capability." Dumbledore said sincerely, "We need you, Morrin. Not just you, but the power behind you. Are you willing to join the Order of the Phoenix? To fight against the coming darkness."
This was an invitation.
An invitation from the greatest white Wizard of the century.
Harry sat up from the bed, looking at Morrin expectantly.
If Morrin joined, even if he was a cold-blooded Slytherin, Harry would feel much more at ease.
However, Morrin did not answer immediately.
He stood up, walked to the window, and watched the sky outside gradually turning white.
"Join the Order of the Phoenix?"
Morrin chuckled, the sound appearing particularly jarring in the quiet ward.
"And then what? Like Mr. Weasley, contributing my Galleons for free for the sake of so-called justice? Or like Professor Snape, risking my life to be a double agent, only to end up pleasing no one?"
"Morrin!" Molly Weasley was a bit angry, "This is to protect everyone! How can you talk about money?"
"Because war is expensive, Mrs. Weasley."
Morrin turned around, leaning against the windowsill, his gaze cold and rational:
"I refuse."
"What?" Sirius frowned, "You faced Lord Voldemort! You know how dangerous he is! Do you think you can stay out of it?"
"I'm not planning to stay out of it."
Morrin tapped the floor with his wand:
"But I don't want to be a piece on Dumbledore's chessboard. I have my own chessboard."
He looked at Dumbledore:
"Principal, you are good at being a spiritual leader, giving people hope. And I..."
Morrin took a piece of parchment from his pocket, densely packed with lists of various supplies:...dragon-hide protective gear, high-level antidotes, anti-curse cloaks, alchemical sentries.
"...I am good at logistics and arms."
"The Order of the Phoenix lacks money, I have it. The Order of the Phoenix lacks equipment, I have it. The Order of the Phoenix lacks intelligence, I have that too."
"But I will not join you."
Morrin's gaze became extremely sharp:
"Because once I join, I will have a stance. With a stance, I can no longer do business with those wavering pure-blood families, nor can I infiltrate the core of the Ministry of Magic."
"I want to be the middleman standing at the boundary of light and dark."
"Lord Voldemort will come to win me over, the Ministry of Magic will come to ask for my help, and you will also come to rely on me."
Morrin walked up to Dumbledore and bowed slightly:
"You can think of me as a... friendly arms dealer. As long as the price is right, I don't mind providing an 'internal discount' to the Order of the Phoenix."
Dumbledore looked at the young man, silent for a long time.
Instead of being angry, he showed a wry smile.
"You are more mature than I imagined, Morrin. Or rather... more shrewd." Dumbledore sighed, "Very well. We respect your choice. As long as your gun is pointed at the Death Eaters, we are still allies."
"Of course." Morrin nodded.
The conversation was over.
The adults began to leave one by one to carry out their respective tasks.
Only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Morrin remained in the ward.
Morrin walked to Harry's bed.
Harry looked at him, his eyes filled with both disappointment and an indescribable sense of alienation.
"You are always like this." Harry said in a low voice, "Keeping yourself completely clean. As if all of this is just a game to you."
"If you had experienced what I have, you would find that treating everything as business is the only way to keep your sanity."
Morrin took a heavy money bag from his chest and threw it on Harry's quilt.
One thousand Galleons.
Clang.
"This is the prize money." Morrin said, "I said, Cedric didn't want it, and I don't lack this bit of money."
"I don't want it." Harry wanted to push it away, "I have money."
"Then give it to those who need it."
Morrin's gaze turned to Fred and George, who had just walked into the ward to visit and were wearing ill-fitting old robes.
"Weasley Twins." Morrin waved.
"Hi, Morrin." The twins walked over somewhat reservedly.
Ever since Morrin became their major shareholder, they could no longer joke around in front of him as recklessly as before.
"Harry has a sum of money he wants to 'invest' in you." Morrin pointed to the money bag, "As startup capital. Go open that joke shop."
"Really?!" The twins' eyes lit up, looking at Harry.
Harry froze for a moment, then nodded: "Take it. I don't need it."
"That's awesome!"
Watching the twins' excitement, Morrin tidied his trench coat and prepared to leave.
"Morrin."
Just as he reached the door, Hermione suddenly called out to him.
"What is it, Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked at him, her eyes complex: "You just said... you want to be a middleman. But, is there really a middle ground in war?"
Morrin stopped, tilted his head, his handsome and cold profile looking particularly rigid in the morning light.
"No."
Morrin said softly:
"But I will build one with my own hands."
"Have a good summer vacation. Next semester..."
Morrin pushed the door open and walked out.
"...Hogwarts will no longer be an ivory tower, but a fortress. And I, am this fortress's only—supply manager."
In the hallway.
Lupin was leaning against the wall waiting for him.
"Boss, finished talking?"
"Finished." Morrin strode forward, "Notify the factory to initiate 'Plan B'."
"Plan B?" Lupin was stunned.
"Counter-armor against Dementors, and..." Morrinnarrowed his eyes, "mass production of alchemical shields against 'Unforgivable Curses'."
"Since Lord Voldemort has returned, I will make him discover."
"What he is facing is no longer a group of Wizards who only know how to hold wands and cast spells, but an army armed to the teeth."
Chapter 95: The Pink Toad, Junk at Grimmauld Place, and the Foretold Darkness
Mid-July, Ministry of Magic.
In the Minister's office, Cornelius Fudge was roaring at Morrin White.
"You must support me, White! Dumbledore is throwing that school into chaos! He wants to use the students to build an army to overthrow me!" Fudge waved his arms like a paranoid patient. "I must send someone to take over! It's for... for stability!"
Morrin sat on the sofa, coldly watching the Minister who was on the verge of a breakdown.
"Stability?" Morrin gave a light laugh. "Minister, I am a businessman. I have invested millions of Galleons into Hogwarts. And now, you intend to throw a... disgusting toad into my investment project's pond?"
"Hem, hem."
An affected, high-pitched cough came from the corner.
Dolores Umbridge walked out. She was wearing her signature pink cardigan with a velvet bow on her head, a hypocritical smile plastered on her pale, flabby face.
"I believe you've misunderstood, Mr. White," Umbridgesaid in a voice that was sickeningly sweet. "The Ministry of Magic does not intend to disrupt the school, but rather to bring 'appropriate' order."
Morrin turned his head and looked at the woman. The [Gate of Truth] caused him a wave of physical discomfort—this woman's soul was filled with a twisted desire for control.
"Order?"
Morrin stood up, his height advantage allowing him to look down at this "toad."
"Listen, Madam Umbridge. As the Head of the Board of Governors, I cannot legally block the Ministry's appointment for the time being."
"But..."
Morrin took a step closer, the [Dragon's Awe] faintly radiating from him, causing the fake smile on Umbridge's face to freeze.
"...don't expect me to cooperate with you. If the quality of Hogwarts' students drops because of your foolish teaching, or if you dare touch my Slytherins..."
"I will cut off all extra funding to the school. I will have The Daily Prophet publish investigation reports on the Ministry's abuse of power on the front page every day."
"I'll let you know that annoying a capitalist is far more troublesome than annoying Dumbledore."
Umbridge trembled with rage, her fingers tightly gripping her pink handbag, but in the face of Morrin's terrifying aura and financial power, she didn't dare talk back.
"Let's go, Alfred."
Morrin picked up his cane and turned to leave.
"The air in this place is too suffocating."
...Number 12, Grimmauld Place, headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.
After leaving the Ministry of Magic, Morrin didn't go home, but came directly here.
As the "Asset Manager" of the House of Black and "Sirius's benefactor," he had the highest level of access here.
At this time, Mrs. Weasley was leading Hermione and Ginny in a "big cleanup."
This old house was full of Doxies, Boggarts, and unknown Dark Arts objects.
"Oh, Morrin! You're here!" Mrs. Weasley wiped her sweat. "Sirius is upstairs feeding Buckbeak. It's a mess here; we're clearing out those cabinets."
"Thank you for your hard work, Madam," Morrin greeted politely. "I've come to handle some of the family's 'old items'; some things can be very dangerous if not handled carefully."
He walked into the drawing room.
Hermione and Ron were fretting over a glass display cabinet.
It was stuffed with all sorts of evil-looking silverware, moldy boxes, and animal bones.
"This thing won't open." Ron pointed to a heavy, golden locket. "Harry and I tried every spell; it's like it's stuck."
It was Salazar slytherins locket.
One of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes.
At this moment, it was being treated as unopenable junk, ready to be thrown into a trash bag by Mrs. Weasley.
"Let me see."
Morrin walked over, putting on specially made dragon-hide gloves.
He picked up the locket.
[Contact successful!]
[High-level Horcrux detected: slytherins locket]
[Status]: Dormant / Soul fragment extremely powerful
The corners of Morrin's mouth curled up imperceptibly.
This was good stuff. A true Slytherin legacy and one of the cores of Voldemort's soul.
"This is a... powerful curse container," Morrin lied through his teeth. "It has very ancient Dark Arts sealed inside. If forced open, it might blow up half the house."
Ron pulled his hand back in fright. "Then what should we do? Throw it away?"
"No, throwing it away is too dangerous; it might hurt passing Muggles."
Morrin casually slipped the locket into his pocket, which had been cast with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
"As the Asset Manager, I have an obligation to recover these dangerous items and take them to my lab for 'decontamination'."
"Thank you so much, Morrin!" Mrs. Weasley breathed a sigh of relief. "The things in this house are truly terrifying."
Morrin nodded with a smile.
Just like that, one of Voldemort's most precious Horcruxes was treated as "dangerous junk" and fell legally and reasonably into Morrin's pocket... Late August, Diagon Alley.
Shopping day before the start of term.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were buying books at Flourish and Blotts.
Harry looked in a bad mood; people around were whispering, discussing how he was described as a "nutcase" in The Daily Prophet.
"Look!" Hermione pointed to the new book list. "'Defensive Magical Theory.' This is too boring; there aren't even any spell practices."
"Because that is the textbook assigned by that Umbridgewoman."
Morrin White's voice rang out from behind the bookshelves.
He held a copy of "Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts" in his hand, his expression indifferent.
"Morrin?" Harry looked at him.
Although Morrin had saved Sirius, those articles attacking Harry in the newspaper were also authorized by Morrin, which made Harry full of hostility toward him.
"That new Professor you mentioned... Umbridge, is she really that bad?" Hermione asked worriedly. "We only heard she's Fudge's deputy."
"She isn't 'bad,' Miss Granger."
Morrin walked to the shelf, his fingers sliding across the book spines:
"She is 'evil'."
"She was sent to neuter you all. The Ministry doesn't want students learning combat magic; they are afraid Dumbledore is building an army."
Morrin turned around and looked at the trio:
"So, in the new semester, don't expect to learn anything in class. She will only make you read the textbook and even forbid you from drawing your wands."
"Then what do we do?" Harry couldn't help asking. "Voldemort is back! We need to fight!"
"Then find a way yourselves."
Morrin looked meaningfully at Harry:
"If you can't learn it in class, then learn it outside of class. If the teacher won't teach, then teach yourselves."
"You mean..." Hermione's eyes lit up. "Self-study? Or... forming a study group?"
"That's your idea, not mine," Morrin shrugged. "I'm just a law-abiding Slytherin."
He leaned in close to Harry and whispered:
"However, if you really intend to start some 'underground activities'... remember to find a good place. For instance, that room on the eighth floor that is sometimes there and sometimes not."
"And..." Morrin patted Harry's shoulder, his gaze cold. "Don't let that pink toad catch you. Otherwise, she'll use that Special quill of hers to carve right through your skin."
Harry shuddered.
He heard the warning in Morrin's words, and also a... strange indulgence.
"Why are you telling us this?" Harry asked. "Aren't you always on the winning side?"
"Because I want to watch the show, Harry."
Morrin straightened his collar and turned to leave.
"A show only becomes exciting if you resist."
Morrin walked out of the bookstore and felt the cold locket in his pocket.
"Fifth year."
Morrin looked at the gloomy clouds in the sky.
"This will be the darkest year in Hogwarts history. But it is also... the best time for me to completely take over this school."