Starting from the Legacy of Hogwarts, he transformed into the Dark Lord.

"What are we betting on!"

Ron replied immediately. Harry was about to say something, but Ron was too fast for him to stop.

If I'm lying to you—

Sakho pulled out a heavy bag, casually grabbed the bottom and dumped it out, producing a series of crisp metallic sounds as golden Galleons covered the floor of the private room.

"Here's a thousand Galleons; if you lose, I'll give them to you."

"But if I win—"

A bright smile appeared on Sarkozy's face.

"I have a spell that you need to experiment with for a month. It will absolutely not cause irreversible damage to your body, nor will it change your appearance or disrupt your mind. However, you cannot try to undo it within that month."

"Ron!"

As Ron's eyes were filled with golden light, Hermione spoke sharply, "I won't allow you to accept this ridiculous bet!"

"If this is a joke, please stop." Hermione looked at Saco seriously. "I apologize for Ron's previous offense, but please stop this prank."

"Garon is real, not some goblin's gold coin. My bet is real too. If Ron doesn't accept it—I can take it back and pretend nothing happened."

Saco drew his wand and waved it, and the golden Galon flew neatly back into his pocket. The dazzling golden light disappeared at that moment, leaving Ron feeling lost.

He had never seen so much money in his life; it was a thousand Galleons!

This guy is definitely just being stubborn!

What kind of person could possibly be named the Devil Clown Saco?!

Ron kept convincing himself, just like he had told Harry in their second year:

"We can fly to Hogwarts!" "We're stuck, aren't we? We have to get back to school, don't we? In a real emergency, young wizards can use magic; it's stipulated in section nineteen or something like that of the Restriction Rules." (Original text)

That time, he ignored Harry's hesitation and pressed on, and this time, he ignored Hermione's warning and nodded in agreement.

"Let's gamble!"

Ron's face turned bright red, his eyes fixed on the bag full of Galleons.

"But what if you cheat—"

*Snap*

Sarkos slammed the Hogwarts acceptance letter on the table before Ron could even finish speaking.

"You lost. You can even take it to Professor McGonagall to verify that my full name is: Devil Joker Sakho."

"Now it's my turn to ask you, Mr. Weasley, are you going to renege on your promise?"

Sakho, who had stuffed the bag of gold coins into his pocket, crossed his legs and looked at Ron. At that moment, Harry and Hermione covered their faces. This teammate was so useless that he wouldn't listen to a word a human being said!

Ron's face turned pale, and his lips turned white. He picked up the letter with trembling hands and read it over and over again.

It has the Hogwarts magic seal and Professor McGonagall's signature, so the chances of it being fake are extremely low.

"What...what do you want to do!"

Ron recoiled sharply, his face filled with terror; he was finally feeling fear.

"Is it a case of accepting defeat or planning to run away and renege on the bet?"

Sacco still had a grin on his face. "Hermione already warned you, but you insisted. It's not my fault, I didn't force you to make the bet."

"What exactly do you want to do!"

Ron, somewhat disoriented, roared, "And how can you prove it's true?! You've been saying from the start—I don't believe you!"

"I'm not stopping you from verifying it. I can even give you this piece of paper. I'm supposed to attend the Sorting Ceremony, and Professor McGonagall will call out my name then."

"Come on, read after me, Diabolarlequin. Its Latin meaning is 'devil clown.' You can call me Demon Jester, though."

"You're playing word games!"

Hermione spoke up, somewhat angrily.

"I didn't say I was British. You need to respect the names of students from other places. At least this is the truth."

"How about this, I have a suggestion."

Sakho's eyes darted around, then he looked at Harry. "I can waive the penalty for the bet, but only if we make a deal. Of course, you can refuse; I never force anyone."

"And as the bargaining chip—it started with two hundred thousand Galleons."

Sakho took off his backpack, opened the pocket, and revealed a mountain of gold casually piled up in the backpack pocket.

"Plus seven Firebolts, enough to build a super team for the College Cup. I paid three times the price to buy them from the Quidditch boutique. Each one is numbered and can be verified for authenticity. It also comes with a full set of top-of-the-line flying broom maintenance tools."

"Of course, there is also an invisibility cloak made of invisible beast hair. It took no more than four months to make and can last for at least ten years without fading. This cloak is worth 17,000 Galleons. Of course, I bought it at a premium; I paid 30,000."

"Of course—these are just appetizers; the final item I'm offering in this transaction is intelligence."

Harry swallowed hard. He was rich, but he was still terrified by the price. He felt that all of these things together were enough to buy his life.

"I can tell you who leaked the information that allowed Voldemort to target your parents, ultimately leading to the destruction of your family."

"If it weren't for this person's betrayal, your parents might not have been targeted by Voldemort, who would have come to their door in person."

Harry's expression at that moment could not be described with just the word "shock." He gripped his thigh tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He hadn't visited his parents in the past few years, and the guilt he felt for sweeping their graves welled up at this moment, turning into a torrent that washed over his heart.

"But how are you going to prove it?" Hermione was also shocked by the news, but she was, after all, the only strategist in the trio.

"Because I am a prophet, the reason I came here is because my dream told me that something very interesting would happen here."

"Harry Potter, you are the protagonist whose fate is intertwined with countless others."

"So, shall we make a deal?"

Sakho smiled brightly and leaned back slightly.

"A prophet? A seer?" Hermione frowned. She herself didn't believe in such things at all, and everyone knew about her dislike for Trelawney.

"I can prove it by saying something that others absolutely do not know, but you certainly do."

"For example—Peter Pettigrew is still alive. He stayed in the Weasley family for twelve years as Scabbers. He is the real culprit who betrayed your parents and sold out your family's position. Sirius Black was wronged, but he wasn't wronged either, because it was he and your father who changed the Secret Keeper at the last minute, making Peter Pettigrew the Secret Keeper. But in fact, he had already betrayed your parents before that."

"Your mother's death is undeniably the responsibility of Sirius Black and your father James Potter. Your mother was unaware of this, and her death was entirely innocent."

"Also, Tom Riddle is Voldemort's real name. More than fifty years ago, he killed Myrtle and then framed Hagrid."

"Is this enough?"

Sark's smile grew even brighter; he had already seen Harry waver. Hermione, standing nearby, couldn't help but cover her mouth, finally realizing that perhaps prophecies really did exist.

"That's enough, I believe you."

Harry slumped down, feeling utterly exhausted.

What do you want?