madnovel Chapter 302 The Final Stage
Chapter 302 The Final Stage
Chapter 302 The Final Stage (5.1K) (2/2)
On the screen, Peter Pettigrew's short, wretched figure was crystal clear. The twisted expression on his face, a mixture of ruthlessness and ecstasy, was like the most dazzling light, instantly illuminating the truth that had been buried for twelve years in the temporary command room.
A deathly silence enveloped the room, as if time itself had frozen.
Only Peter's shrill, triumphant voice, picked up by the magical equipment, echoed through the curtain: "I did it—I killed Black! I avenged James and Lily!"
The sound acted as a signal, breaking the stagnant atmosphere in the room.
"Merlin's mustache!" Fudge gasped, his obese body jerking up. His finger trembled as he pointed at the curtain, his face deathly pale. "That—that's—Peter Pettigrew?! He—he's not dead?! This can't be! He sacrificed himself! He received the Order of Merlin! What—what on earth is going on?!"
But at this moment, his shock stemmed more from the impact of the "resurrection of the dead" on the existing order and honor system, rather than from his immediate connection to Blake's innocence.
Barty Crouch's facial muscles twitched violently.
A crack appeared in his hard mask, and his gray eyes were filled with extreme shock, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper, more wary sharpness.
As the Director of the Enforcement Division, his immediate thought was of procedures, evidence, and the complex possibilities behind them.
"Peter—is alive—this proves our initial assessment of Peter's 'death' was wrong!" His lips pressed into a pale line, a jumble of thoughts flashing through his mind. "Then, what exactly happened at the scene of the bombing twelve years ago?" His gaze suddenly shot towards Lynch and Dumbledore, filled with scrutiny. "There might be a more complex conspiracy behind this! As the Chief of the Legal Enforcement Division who led the Black case back then, Peter's 'heroic sacrifice' was a key link in convicting Black. Peter's possible reappearance doesn't just mean a dead man has been resurrected; it also means that the seemingly impenetrable case from twelve years ago might be fundamentally missing a crucial element!"
After his initial shock, Scrimgeour's subsequent reaction was more direct and professional.
His sharp gaze, like a searchlight, swept across Peter's every move on the screen and Sirius lying on the ground. The Auror's office manager's intuition immediately made him realize the gravity of the situation—if Peter was alive, what was the truth behind the bombing that had resulted in the "deaths" of thirteen people, including Peter himself?
After a brief moment of astonishment, Barnabas Guffey, editor-in-chief of The Daily Prophet, broke into a professional ecstasy.
"Write it down! Write it all down!" he growled at the stenographer, his eyes gleaming. "Peter Pettigrew is back! The Order of Merlin's medal recipient faked his death! This alone is enough to shake the wizarding world! As for Black—Merlin, there's so much more to uncover! The truth may be far more complex than we imagine!"
He keenly sensed the impending explosive news, and at that moment, he deeply regretted not bringing Rita Skeeter along on this trip.
The heads of the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters and the Floo Network Administration were utterly shocked and bewildered, whispering among themselves: "This is unbelievable—" "Peter didn't die? Then what about that explosion back then—"
The entire room was thrown into chaos by the fact that "Peter has been resurrected".
Albus Dumbledore slowly, very slowly, closed his sharp blue eyes.
He leaned back in his chair, a deep, heavy sadness on his face, as if the other shoe that had been hanging in the air had finally fallen, bringing not relief, but the pain of confirming the truth.
He took a deep breath, and when he opened his eyes again, the doubts and scrutiny that had been hidden in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by a clear, knowing, and sharp gaze.
He turned his head slightly, looked at Lin Qi who was standing calmly by the curtain, and nodded very slightly.
Since Peter is still alive, then the unbelievable, bloody truth that Lynch told him before is probably true.
But simply having your own approval isn't enough. Lynch's real challenge lies in connecting all of this and revealing the complete truth.
But since he seemed so confident, I'll just have to wait and see.
Behind Dumbledore, Snape was like a volcano instantly frozen in ice.
The moment Peter revealed himself, his aura suddenly became dangerous and icy.
He didn't cry out, but his clenched fists were white at the knuckles, and his body under the black robe was as taut as a fully drawn bow.
His dark eyes churned with extremely complex emotions: boundless disgust at the fact that Peter, that despicable coward, was actually still alive; an unwilling acknowledgment that Lynch's words had been partially confirmed; but more than anything, a chaotic, unsettling anger.
Peter's survival shook the narrative he had believed in for twelve years, but it did not immediately wash away his hatred for Blake. Instead, it was like reopening an old wound, exposing all the painful memories and doubts about Lily's death in a bloody way.
His sinister gaze was fixed on Peter on the curtain, as if he wanted to tear him to pieces.
Standing in front of the curtain, Lynch calmly accepted all the shocked, questioning, and inquisitive gazes.
He knew that Peter being alive was a bombshell, blasting open the rusted lock, but the truth behind the door still needed to be revealed step by step.
Lynch spoke up at the opportune moment, his voice clearly drowning out the murmurs: "It seems the first act of this scene went well. As you all can see, Peter Pettigrew, this 'deceased' recipient of the Order of Merlin, is still alive in this world."
He wore a polite smile: "I hope everyone will be satisfied with what follows."
On the screen, just as Peter Pettigrew bent down, trembling as he prepared to check Sirius's breath, whose fate was unknown, the previously silent body suddenly moved! Sirius opened his eyes, and in those deep-set gray eyes there was no confusion or weakness, only cold determination and long-accumulated power!
"Bang!"
Almost at the same time he opened his eyes, his raised arm snapped open like a taut bowstring, and a dazzling red light shot out from the tip of his wand, directly into Peter's face!
"Ahhh!" Several officials in the command room couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, and Fudge was so frightened that he shrank back.
On the screen, Peter let out a piercing scream as a spell grazed past his ear. Immediately afterward, Sirius, battling his pain, swung his wand rapidly: "Misty Clouds!"
Thick, milky-white fog appeared out of nowhere, spreading rapidly like a living thing, instantly enveloping an area of tens of meters in radius and blurring the scene on the screen. Through the rapidly closing edge of the fog, one could see Sirius struggling to his feet, staggering as he fled into the depths of the fog, his figure quickly swallowed up by the surging white mist.
"He's gone!" Scrimgeour growled, leaning forward as if about to burst into the curtain.
"Quick! Send men to seal off that area! Summon the Dementors back!" Fudge shouted in a panic, his voice shrill.
"Headmaster Dumbledore."
Lin Qi's voice rang out again, his calm tone silencing the noise in the room.
"Could you please enhance the range and intensity of the mist that Sirius Black cast?"
Dumbledore looked away from the curtain and met Lynch's gaze for less than half a second.
"Of course," Dumbledore's voice remained gentle. "What area do you want?"
Lynch maintained his smile: "Covering the entire Hogsmeade and its surrounding area will suffice. If we can also ensure that the villagers of Hogsmeade can clearly hear what's happening outside while those outside, including our target, cannot hear anything coming from inside, that would be even better."
The request instantly silenced the room.
Everyone looked at Dumbledore.
Fudge opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to object to this behavior that was almost "assisting a fugitive," but seeing Lynch's determined eyes and the earth-shattering reversal that had already occurred on the screen, he swallowed his words back.
Dumbledore stared intently at Lynch, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles gleaming with an unfathomable light.
He neither asked for the reason nor questioned it.
After a brief silence, as if he had weighed everything, he slowly raised the elder wand.
"A very interesting request, Professor Lynch," he said gently, as a soft yet powerful magical glow began to flow from the tip of his wand. "As you wish."
He pointed lightly at the void, and an invisible yet powerful wave of magic spread out from him, penetrating the walls and surging towards the outer perimeter of Hogsmeade.
On the screen, the white mist that had originally only lingered in a part of the hillside seemed to have been injected with life, and began to spread and rise wildly in all directions at a visible speed, becoming thicker and thicker, like solid milk, quickly swallowing more rocks, dead trees and paths, and visibility plummeted.
Meanwhile, another, more sophisticated confusion spell, mixed with the ear-blocking spell, enveloped the entire village of Hogsmeade.
The villagers could still hear the howling wind outside their windows, and if they listened carefully, they might even faintly hear unusual noises coming from the distant mist. However, any sound coming from inside their own houses—whether it was talking, moving around, or anything else—would be bound within the walls by the power of the Confusion Curse, unable to reach the stage where a life-or-death chase was taking place.
Dumbledore put down the Elder Wand with a casual gesture, as if he were simply demonstrating something in class.
"The fog has thickened, and the Confusion Charm is in place," he announced calmly, his gaze returning to the curtain. "Now, the stage is set up as you requested, Professor Lynch. Let's see how the next act unfolds."
An eerie silence fell over the room.
The impulse that Fudge and Crouch had almost immediately ordered a full-scale manhunt was instantly extinguished, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over their heads.
Fudge's panic hadn't subsided, but after glancing at Dumbledore, who stood as steady as a mountain beside him, and then at Lynch, the "hanger" who appeared calm and collected in front of the curtain as if he had everything under control, he slowly closed his mouth, and finally just took out a handkerchief and wiped away non-existent cold sweat from his forehead.
He realized that with these two present—one the greatest wizards of the time, and the other the legendary Sirius Black, feared by dark wizards—it was indeed unlikely that a recently wounded fugitive could truly escape from this magically enhanced fog.
Their "game" is clearly not over yet.
Chief Crouch pursed his lips, his hard facial features relaxed slightly, but the sharpness in his eyes remained undiminished.
He exchanged a brief but knowing glance with Fudge, nodded slightly, and acknowledged that the minister's hasty order would not be carried out.
He also understood the current situation: Dumbledore and Lynch were orchestrating an operation that they could not fully comprehend at the moment, and rashly intervening could disrupt the plan or even cause unnecessary conflict.
However, Barty Crouch was ultimately the Chief Justice known for his caution and controlling nature.
He hesitated for less than two seconds, then turned to Scrimgeour, who was poised to pounce like a cheetah, and issued his orders in a low voice with lightning speed: "Rufus, hold your position for now. Do not send any Aurors into the fog to interfere—but just in case, immediately mobilize the Dementors waiting on the perimeter and have them tighten the encirclement, blocking all possible air and ground escape routes from Hogsmeade. Without my direct order, they are not allowed to enter the fog area, but you must ensure that not even a rat can slip out of this area!"
"Understood, Chief." Scrimgeour immediately understood the intention behind this double insurance. He glanced one last time at the white scene on the screen, then turned around, strode open the wooden door of the command room, and disappeared outside to carry out the order to mobilize the Dementors.
Just as Scrimgeour left to mobilize the Dementors, Lynch turned to the Stone Tower Merchant Guild staff waiting by the wall and made a few simple gestures.
The staff understood and immediately began fine-tuning the device known as the "remote observation mirror".
The image on the screen changed—the thick, all-encompassing milky-white fog seemed to have its concealing effect partially neutralized by some kind of technology.
The fog still lingered, enveloping the entire scene, but it was no longer an impenetrable wall; instead, it had become a semi-transparent veil. Although this made the overall image somewhat blurry and lost its initial sharpness, the key objects and moving figures were still discernible.
"A minor technical adjustment," Lynch's voice rang out at the opportune moment, explaining to the group of people in the room who were casting puzzled glances, "to ensure we don't miss the crucial plot points that follow. Although the picture quality has been somewhat sacrificed, I think it won't affect our ability to watch the core of this chase scene."
The blurred visuals actually added to the tense and uncertain atmosphere, as if the audience were also on the edge of that magically enhanced fog, trying to see the dangers and secrets lurking within.
Although Fudge and Crouch had some complaints about the decline in image quality, they didn't say anything more since the main action was still visible. They just focused more intently on the screen, trying to catch a glimpse of Peter or Black in the blurry, swaying image.
Dumbledore watched this scene calmly without making any comment. His fingers, resting on his knees, tapped lightly, as if he were deep in thought.
Snape, however, remained a black silhouette, radiating a cold aura, staring intently at the blurry battlefield shrouded in mist.
The cold air, mixed with dust and the smell of blood, filled my lungs, and every breath brought a burning pain to my chest.
Sirius staggered through the thick, impenetrable fog, his steps unsteady, his pursuit behind him—that short figure he hated to the core—seemed to be temporarily blocked by the magically enhanced fog, but he dared not stop for a moment.
He instinctively raised his mud-covered hand and pressed it tightly against his left chest.
Peter, that coward, just now unleashed a deadly attack—a curse imbued with all its magic and designed to kill—that struck solidly here.
Even though he was wearing dragon skin armor provided by Lin Qi under his robe, which was said to be able to resist most evil curses, the violent impact was still like being hit by an invisible giant hammer. It shook his internal organs out of place, his ribs were probably fractured, and every heartbeat brought a dull pain and a feeling of suffocation.
The armor saved his life, but he took real damage.
"Cough—" He coughed weakly, a metallic taste rising in his throat.
This damn fog! The work of the Fog Executioner is truly extraordinary; it's so thick it's almost tangible, not only completely obscuring vision but also utterly depriving us of our sense of direction.
All around was a despairing milky white expanse, making it impossible to distinguish east from west, north from south, or even whether one was heading towards Hogsmeade or deeper into the wilderness.
Can't stop!
You must reach the designated location!
This thought sustained his body, which was on the verge of falling apart.
He suddenly lowered his head, hastily wiping away the sweat and mist that were obscuring his eyes with his other hand, and looked at his left wrist.
There, an inconspicuous arrow tattoo, like random ink splatters, was radiating a faint...
A magical glow that only he himself could perceive.
The arrow is not stationary; rather, it subtly adjusts its direction as it moves, like a loyal compass pointer, steadfastly pointing to the preset coordinates.
This was part of Lynch's plan: a simple tracking-pointing magic that connected to the final destination.
Just follow it—just follow it, and you'll reach that... final stage.
Just as he was concentrating on following the arrow on his wrist and enduring the excruciating pain in his chest as he trudged forward, a sudden change occurred!
From the thick fog to the side and behind, a blinding red light shot out without warning—it was the Shattering Curse!
It tore through the dense fog at an astonishing speed.
Sirius only had time to hear the piercing scream of the incantation, and had no time to make any effective dodge or defensive maneuvers.
He instinctively tried to turn to the side, but his injured body was far less agile than his mind.
"Bang!"
The curse slammed into his right shoulder.
An indescribable, excruciating pain, as if his bones were about to shatter, exploded instantly, engulfing half of his body.
He felt as if he had been hit head-on by a raging bull, completely losing his balance. He staggered and spun uncontrollably backward before crashing heavily to the ground, rolling twice on the gravel before coming to a stop.