The newly awakened Jim Hacker's brain clearly wasn't functioning properly, taking considerable time to return to normal.
"Oh, oh, I know – you're the head honcho of those wizard folk, right?"
Just then, Humphrey entered carrying a stack of files.
"Minister Fudge?" He greeted Fudge with some puzzlement upon seeing him.
Having dealt with Fudge twice before, they were acquainted.
"Sir Humphrey." Fudge nodded with a smile, producing the Daily Prophet to brief them on Black's situation and request that the Muggle world also issue a warrant for his arrest.
"That dangerous?" Jim Hacker's eyes widened.
As Fudge prepared to elaborate and impress upon him the gravity of the situation, Hacker suddenly exclaimed:
"The photos in the newspaper actually move?!"
Imagine applying this technology to The Sun's page-three girls.
Hiss!
Fudge: "..."
Scrimgeour's eyebrow twitched violently.
Were all world leaders this unreliable?
Was now really the time to be concerned about moving photographs?
"Prime Minister." Humphrey felt somewhat embarrassed and quickly reminded in a low voice, "A criminal, this is a criminal."
"Ah, right." Realising his lapse in composure, Hacker immediately straightened his face and adopted an extremely official, stern tone. "Indeed, it's very dangerous. I'll notify the MPS (Metropolitan Police Service) and have them issue a bounty."
Fudge was momentarily stunned by this abrupt change in demeanour, taking a while to react before hurriedly reminding him:
"Do not attempt to apprehend him yourselves. The criminal is extremely violent. Wizarding matters should be left to wizards to resolve."
Hacker scoffed dismissively. "If you could resolve it, such a mess wouldn't have been made in the first place."
Fudge's face turned alternately green and pale, at a loss for how to retort.
"Prime Minister, I don't believe this is sufficient," Humphrey suddenly interjected.
"Humphrey?" Hacker looked at him in confusion.
Humphrey usually adhered to the principle of avoiding unnecessary trouble, so why was he being so unusually proactive today?
"Sir, I believe this incident is exceptionally egregious and has already endangered public safety. It demands our utmost attention," Humphrey declared righteously. "If necessary, we could even deploy the military."
"Isn't that going a bit too far?" Hacker was startled by Humphrey's radical stance.
To capture a single fugitive, they'd actually mobilise the army?
'Of course you'd say that—your nephew isn't in the wizarding world.'
Humphrey cursed inwardly.
If it weren't for Wayne attending school in the wizarding world, he wouldn't have bothered getting involved in this mess. But such a dangerous criminal now threatened Wayne's safety—he had to be apprehended as soon as possible.
"I'll consider your suggestion." Hacker didn't agree immediately, instead ushering Fudge and his companion out first. Bernard seized the opportunity to pick up the newspaper Hacker had dropped earlier, glancing at it before curling his lip in disdain.
'The Sun's standards are slipping. A C-lister makes the front page now?'
...
Only after the outsiders had left did Hacker inquire about the reason.
"You've forgotten—my nephew has also become a wizard." Humphrey reminded him pointedly but calmly.
"If anything were to happen to him... The Times, The Daily Telegraph, The Financial Times, The Guardian... they'd all explode."
"Once they start publishing unfavourable commentary about you, it would be... difficult to control."
The newspapers Humphrey listed weren't just the most influential in Britain—they also shared one common trait.
They were all currently under the control of the Lawrence family.
Hacker's face twitched involuntarily upon hearing this.
Approval ratings were a prime minister's lifeline. If these papers turned against him simultaneously, the consequences were unthinkable.
"You're right, Humphrey." Hacker nodded emphatically. "Bernard, quickly—before the workday ends, summon the Defence Secretary."
"You are undoubtedly the greatest prime minister." Humphrey smiled like an old fox.
...
"Yes, I know."
"Don't worry, it's just a minor issue. There's no need for concern."
"Even if I encountered him, there'd be no danger."
"Age has nothing to do with it. Wizards depend on talent, and I just happen to be a little more talented. Please rest assured, Uncle."
Wayne held the phone, rubbing his temples in exasperation.
It had taken him ages to convince Humphrey that Black was nothing more than a C-tier threat—hardly a danger to him. Continuing this conversation would have Humphrey make him drop out of Hogwarts.
"By the way, how's the company doing lately?" Wayne changed the subject. "Have most people on that list been dealt with?"
Far away in their London home, Humphrey frowned. "Hold on a moment."
He got up and retrieved a document from the bottom drawer. After flipping through it, he spoke into the phone:
"Most are already taken care of... Some had heart attacks, some suddenly developed muscle atrophy, and others had strokes and died outright... Only Savis remains now."
"Savis?" Wayne pondered. "Which Savis? I remember there being two."
The surname Savis rang a bell. One of his property company's deputy directors was a Savis, and the other Savis had a son working in the same company who'd already climbed to deputy head of the legal department.
"The younger one."
"That shouldn't be." Wayne sounded puzzled.
His curse should already be taking effect. Even if it didn't kill, the target couldn't possibly carry on working as if nothing was wrong.
Unless...
The young man's expression gradually turned peculiar.
"I see. I'll find time to handle it."
Old Savis's head... was looking rather green.
After hanging up, Gabrielle threw herself into Wayne's arms, clinging to him. "Big brother..."
Today was Fleur and Gabrielle's last day in Britain; they would be returning to France tomorrow morning.
Not just Gabrielle, but even Fleur's mood had turned sombre.
She and Wayne always spent more time apart than together.
There wasn't much Wayne could do about it. This situation would only improve after Fleur graduated—then he could finally whisk the half-Veela away.
The next day, Ho-Oh was summoned to transport the two girls directly back to France. Wayne had no intention of lingering either and promptly returned to London.
...
4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
After dinner, Harry was watching television with the Dursleys. The obese Dudley squeezed beside his equally obese Uncle Vernon, refusing to move closer to Harry despite the ample empty space beside him.
Harry didn't mind the distance.
Lately, his days had been rather comfortable.
Or rather, ever since Wayne's visit, things had been consistently good.
With such an influential figure backing him, the Dursleys didn't dare mistreat him, strictly adhering to their earlier promise—everything Dudley had, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would provide a copy for Harry as well.
In fact, upon his return this summer, they even handed him all his withheld pocket money at once—a total of two hundred pounds.
The moment he got the money, Harry immediately exchanged it for Galleons at Gringotts.
After so many years in the Muggle world without pocket money, he knew the wizarding world's expenses were far higher.
Especially with a certain Vampire waiting for him...
Lately, the Dursleys had been doing well, too. Vernon's company had rewarded him with a car for securing such a massive deal.
In a few more years, they'd have enough to buy a new house.
Though they loathed to admit it, all of this was thanks to Harry—the boy they despised.
Who could've guessed Harry would be so fortunate as to be acquainted with the esteemed Mr Lawrence?
Thanks to the allure of money, the Dursleys even found Harry slightly more tolerable this time.
Except for Dudley, who still detested him.
After all, he was the only one who hadn't benefited at all—even his playroom had been converted into Harry's bedroom.
Suddenly, the soap opera on TV cut off, replaced by a news anchor.
"... The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up—any resident providing credible information leading to his capture will receive a reward of one hundred thousand pounds."
"One hundred thousand pounds?" Uncle Vernon's eyes gleamed. "That wretched criminal must've committed some monstrous crime. Just look at his face—pure villainy."
Harry stared at the photo on the screen, lost in thought.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this man.
"What's the matter, Potter?" Dudley sneered, noticing his distraction. "Don't tell me you think his hair looks like yours—all messy and dreadful."
Harry ignored him. Once the news segment ended, he headed upstairs without a word.
Aunt Petunia frowned. "Must you provoke him for no reason?"
Soon, arguments erupted downstairs. Harry shut his door, muffling most of the noise.
Late into the night, Harry's heartbeat quickened slightly. In just an hour, he would turn thirteen.
More importantly, after tonight, only one month remained before he could return to Hogwarts. He had already secured Vernon's signature—Hogsmeade awaited. He'd heard Fred and George mention that there were all sorts of fascinating shops there, along with a rather attractive proprietress, in no way inferior to Diagon Alley.
The dazzling starry sky outside the window suddenly dimmed as several living creatures obscured the constellations, flying into the house.
All gifts from school friends – Ron's Sneakoscope and photographs, Neville's dust-proof bed sheets, Hermione's flying broomstick maintenance kit, and sweets from others...
And...
Harry picked up a badge in puzzlement. It looked utterly ordinary, accompanied by a letter.
"In case of danger, shout the passphrase loudly – it may save your life. – Wayne Lawrence."
Seeing the passphrase written below, Harry's face turned pale.
Leaving aside whether this thing actually worked, the passphrase... was utterly mortifying.
After much hesitation, Harry carefully tucked the badge away.
Having attended Hogwarts for two years, he'd been deceived by Defence Against the Dark Arts professors twice – both times nearly costing him his life.
Who knew what manner of lunacy next term's professor might be?
Having some form of protection couldn't hurt.
The next morning, as Harry came downstairs for breakfast, he saw Dudley already seated at the table, stuffing his face with two jumbo burgers, his multiple chins wobbling.
"By the way," Vernon spoke abruptly as Harry sat down, as if he'd been waiting for this moment. "Marge will be staying with us for a week."
"Aunt Marge?" Harry blurted out. "Why's she coming?"
"She's coming to see Dudley..." Petunia sniffed coldly. "The best arrangement would be for you two to stay out of each other's way, don't you think?"
Harry remained silent. If the Dursleys' unpleasantness rated a 10, and Snape a 50, then Aunt Marge scored a full 100.
More Snape than Snape himself.
Not only did she belittle him relentlessly, but she also took pleasure in mocking his parents.
In the past, when Harry hadn't known what his parents had done, it hadn't affected him much.
But now everything was different – his parents had died protecting him from Voldemort.
Harry wouldn't tolerate Aunt Marge's slander anymore.
Still, out of consideration for the Dursleys' recent decent treatment, he agreed.
Soon after, Uncle Vernon took Petunia and Dudley to King's Cross Station to fetch her, returning just before lunch.
After two years, Harry noticed Aunt Marge had grown several sizes larger, practically spherical now.
Her attitude towards Dudley dripped with indulgence, but her ugly demeanour emerged when facing Harry. Petunia kept deftly steering conversations away, managing to avoid outright conflict.
Several peaceful days passed, but the inevitable clash occurred just before Marge's departure.
During the farewell dinner, after several glasses of wine, Marge began speaking without restraint.
"Your sister was a worthless piece of trash, and the man she found was no better."
"He wasn't!" Harry suddenly roared, trembling with rage. "They weren't like that at all! You don't know anything!"
"Marge," Petunia quickly tried to restrain her, but found herself at a loss for where to grab the spherical woman.
"You insolent brat, daring to talk back to me? Who was it that kindly took you in? Where are your parents now, eh?"
"Oh, died in a car crash, did they? How terribly..."
Marge suddenly stopped speaking, her throat clogged as if something had lodged itself there. Without realising when, Harry's wand had appeared in his hand.
She began inflating like a balloon, buttons popping off her clothes as she floated upwards, her limbs becoming barely visible.
"What have you done!" Vernon bellowed at Harry. "Change her back at once!"
"Sorry, I can't." Harry had calmed down now, realising he'd acted impulsively.
The house was in complete chaos, and Harry felt his nerves fraying. He'd performed magic outside school again—would he be expelled?
Last year, he'd received a warning from the Ministry of Magic when a house-elf used magic near him. Now it had happened again... though he didn't regret it.
In fact, he felt a flicker of smugness. Had he really cast the Engorgement Charm nonverbally?
Wayne had taught him well.
Knock knock knock!
Someone was at the door. Vernon and Petunia were too busy trying to pull the ceiling-bound Marge down to answer, so Harry went instead.
His blood ran cold at the sight of the three figures on the doorstep.
"M-Minister Fudge."
This was it. Had Fudge come to tell him he was expelled and snap his wand?
"Wonderful to see you, Harry." Fudge beamed, clapping Harry's shoulder warmly as he stepped inside.
The two others followed, moving past to deal with the mess Harry had created.
"Minister... are you here to expel me?" Harry stammered, wringing his hands. "I didn't mean to—I just lost my temper and—"
"Expel you?" Fudge blinked. "Oh, Harry, the Ministry doesn't punish people for little accidents like this."
"Nobody gets sent to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunt." He waved a hand. "Trust our employees—they'll sort it out. I only dropped by to discuss... other matters."
"Other matters?" Harry stared at him, bewildered.
"Well..." Fudge hesitated. "These are rather special circumstances. Have you read the papers? About Black?"
"Black?" Harry recalled. "That Muggle criminal?"
"Actually, he's a wizard." Fudge mopped his brow, sounding exasperated. "You really ought to subscribe to the Daily Prophet—keep up with wizarding affairs."
"Listen, Black is extremely dangerous. We've had intelligence placing him in London."
"Harry, I want you to stay put for now. Ideally, you'd reside in Diagon Alley—the Leaky Cauldron would suit perfectly. What do you think?"
"Sounds brilliant." Harry agreed instantly. Anything was better than remaining with the Dursleys.
After today's events, staying would be unbearable. Best to leave now.
"Splendid!" Fudge looked immensely pleased, already steering Harry towards the door.
Suddenly, he glanced back and frowned.
"What's taking so long with that Engorgement Charm reversal?"
"Minister, we already reversed it," said the Ministry employee, confused.
"Impossible." Fudge snapped. "Do I look blind to you? That woman's still spherical!"
"Could it be..." the ministry official ventured cautiously, "that she was always this fat?"
Fudge: "..."