The Silent Bookstore Manager at Hogwarts

Dumbledore watched as countless souls soared into the sky and joined the train. It wasn't some evil magic that absorbed souls; on the contrary, these souls joined the train willingly.

The souls of soldiers, Aurors, and even ancient knights and horses poured forth from the land. Not only the souls of those on French soil, but also those from beyond the borders joined the movement. A vast procession circled over France. If the Ministry of Magic hadn't activated its emergency plan to cover up the scene, French fighter jets would probably be flying alongside that train right now.

"Where are they going? What are they going to do?"

The French Minister of Magic felt like he'd sweated buckets in his life. He couldn't even imagine what the consequences would be if the wizards clashed with the massive procession.

"Lord Dumbledore... what should we do?"

"They are searching... searching for their enemy."

Dumbledore looked up. He had realized why these ghosts had joined the parade, so he didn't intend to do anything. Since Red and Harry had already planned this, they would naturally have their own way of ending it. Dumbledore was still willing to trust Red. Even if things really couldn't be resolved in the end, Dumbledore would at most suffer a minor setback.

"Harry, put this on, you're the star of this parade... Let's go."

Harry looked at the mask and cloak Red handed him, somewhat puzzled, but he still put them on.

"Then, we're going to start hunting in France, just like in the myths."

A tall, masked figure in a cloak mounted a horse—or rather, a steel horse gradually transformed from a train. The ghosts that followed resembled a vast army, galloping through the sky. The masked leader raised his weapon, and then they began to swoop down towards the ground.

"Everyone, begin purging the Death Eaters!"

On that day, the Death Eaters suffered a devastating blow. This endless army of ghosts was like the Wild Hunt from mythology, relentlessly hunting down the remaining Death Eaters. Even if one pursuing soul disappeared, another would immediately take its place, one after another. The Lord of the Wild Hunt, riding his steel "Pegasus," was always at the forefront. The sweeping fog and the ghosts, more terrifying than Dementors, devoured the fleeing Death Eaters, leaving not even a corpse behind.

No one dared to stop such a group, nor did anyone have any doubts about what he was doing. They simply watched as this suddenly appearing "Lord of the Wild Hunt," riding a train transformed into a horse, wiped out all the Death Eaters in France and along the border, leaving not a single survivor.

"The sunrise is coming..."

Dumbledore witnessed the purge, but he had no power to stop the ghosts from killing the invaders to protect their home. In fact, he had already quietly dealt with Igor Karkaroff, which could be considered a small gift from Red.

"Principal, I suddenly realize I'm really old... so old that my eyesight is failing."

Professor McGonagall silently wiped her glasses for a long time before finally managing to utter this sentence: the closest person she could think of to such power was Grindelwald, but even Grindelwald could not possibly launch such a safari that swept across a country all by himself.

"The Death Eaters will be quiet for a very, very long time..."

Snape muttered to himself that the Wild Hunt's route bypassed them, but still swept across all of France, and in the end they seemed to be heading towards the Netherlands.

"Wait... judging by the rate at which that 'Wild Hunt' group is disappearing, they'll be gone from this world completely by sunrise. So where are they going now?!"

The French Minister of Magic asked this question, of course, he guessed that he probably wouldn't be in his position for long. He couldn't shirk responsibility for such a mess, so in the end, he would be the unlucky one to take the blame.

So what he's trying to do now is avoid making any bigger mess before he gets kicked out, so that his retirement residence won't change from his little villa to Azkaban or even Nurmengard. But now it seems things won't go in the direction he wants at all. It seems this army wants more than just France.

However, Red and Harry had no such thoughts. Harry hugged the neck of the huge steel horse, completely lacking the imposing aura of the Lord of the Wild Hunt.

"Red, where are we going now?!"

Harry shouted into the wind. They had spent several hours circling around France, and as these souls were gradually bidding them farewell, they should have found a place to slowly reduce their altitude and speed.

"Let's go back!!!"

Red shouted joyfully, and their souls slowly began to fall behind and dissipate. They paid their last respects to the two boys running at the front of the group, and then quietly closed their eyes. At least in the very end, they had a beautiful memory, not of the smoke of war or the smell of blood, but of running to protect their country.

The giant steel horse continued its relentless gallop, crossing the border and carrying the two young wizards all the way to Amsterdam in the Netherlands.

"Why are we going to Amsterdam? If we want to go back, we can just go straight back to England from the French coast!"

Harry felt the steel behemoth beneath him growing faster and faster, like a train that was constantly accelerating.

"Did you know? In that atlas, a businessman from Amsterdam wrote a special sentence."

Red slowly flipped through the atlas. Harry saw the dense markings, but he was currently riding this wildly accelerating giant horse and had just taken off his glasses to wear a mask, so he couldn't see anything clearly.

He said that anyone who buys this atlas must go to Amsterdam's harbor to see the sunrise at least once in their lifetime... He said it would be an absolutely worthwhile sight.

"Let's go!" Harry didn't hesitate at all. Since things had already come to this, what was wrong with taking a look at the beautiful scenery before going back to be scolded or even go to jail?

So the two young men rode two giant steel horses and arrived at the coast of Amsterdam before sunrise. The hazy light had already illuminated the coastline, so Red and Harry didn't delay at all. The two iron horses took off again and rushed straight from the Amsterdam coastline toward the British coastline.