From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

He originally thought this was just a simple donation to Hogwarts, but he never expected Dumbledore to offer him such a huge sum.

'I was too rude, too slow…'

He felt guilty—Albus had given such obvious hints, yet he hadn't understood, forcing Albus to send someone over specifically to explain the meaning of those things to him!

That's right, it was Dumbledore's idea, of course—the head of the Hogwarts Self-Defense Office came to the headmaster's office to explain, how could it be his own idea?

Such confidential matters should definitely be handled by trusted individuals. Adding an extra step might seem like a breach of confidentiality, but it's actually to avoid the awkwardness of directly revealing the truth.

How could someone like Dumbledore possibly tell him in detail how he could gain benefits or acquire capital by doing certain things?

and so…

'How embarrassing, so incredibly embarrassing…'

Fudge looked up. The mysterious man was indeed frightening, but his position as minister was more important—his panic was ill-timed.

But that's alright, he's the only option, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't have made Professor William explain so much.

Moreover, now that I think about it, those three sentences are quite profound. Dumbledore actually had a chance when the former minister was re-elected. Does this mean that he did not covet the ministerial position?

"The funding needs to be increased—if Dumbledore fully supports me..."

"And that Professor William, he needs an extra special grant..."

-

"The investigators I dispatched are still gathering evidence, and your deductions have been of great help to them."

After discussing the traps Azkaban should set, Dumbledore and William talked about the American wizarding world—but unfortunately, there was no good news.

Those Purifiers who had been hiding for decades or even centuries suddenly appeared and became active, but the chaotic Magical Congress of the United States and the Aurors were powerless to suppress them—especially according to Dumbledore's latest news, two full-strength Auror squads had lost contact, leaving the local Magical Congress's forces stretched thin.

“It should be Iphamoni, but we can't just make accusations rashly. Without evidence, it's absolutely unacceptable to accuse a prestigious wizarding school of corruption…”

Dumbledore was in a dilemma—given that Ilfamoni was the only large magic school in the American magical community, any criticism he made would be tantamount to a declaration of war.

“We can only wait for the investigation,” William nodded in resignation. “Those guys at the Magical Congress of the United States… are a bunch of good-for-nothings.”

But what can a good-for-nothing do? Ordinary people can't handle it, and if Dumbledore gets involved, what's the difference between that and declaring war?

'I hope the person Dumbledore sent has good luck…'

-

"no!"

The Weasley family is still embroiled in conflict. Mr. Weasley is firmly opposed to Ron taking his curse training any further, learning curses or even things related to dark magic, while Mrs. Weasley is in favor.

"He's almost an adult, Arthur!"

"Even if you're an adult, it won't work. You know, Molly, once you learn to protect yourself from dark magic, you'll definitely learn dark magic."

"If he learns it, he learns it. Since that professor thinks he has talent, that's good too."

"That's dark magic! He might even learn those deadly curses directly!"

“I will! That’s the last resort to protect myself. You know Ron’s grades; he has to learn to protect himself! You also know a little about what’s happened at Hogwarts over the years. I can’t let him take risks when he knows nothing!”

Mrs. Weasley was adamant. Ron was her youngest son, but he wasn't particularly talented. After hearing about the Philosopher's Stone's mechanism in his first year, she secretly taught Ron and Ginny some evil spells during the holidays.

The rest of the children were all doing well, with each one getting better grades than the last. Even Fred and George, who were slightly worse before fifth grade, had amazing magical talents and were so clever at playing pranks that she no longer wanted to help them wreak havoc on the school.

But Ron and Ginny are different. Ginny was too shy when she was little, while Ron... was such a worry both before and after he started school.

"He's already been taught enough evil curses—"

Faced with Mrs. Weasley's tough stance, Mr. Weasley was somewhat helpless. He naturally knew how much his wife had learned from home, and she had been quite indifferent to the lessons on curses, but dark magic was a completely different story.

“That’s not enough, and Ron will graduate in two more years.”

"There are still more than two years left, he'll only be in fifth grade—"

Mr. Weasley was about to say something when his wife glared at him, shutting him up.

"Graduation is just around the corner, what do you think he's good at?"

"What are you good at..." Mr. Weasley paused, stumped by the question—the other children were so outstanding that they could do whatever they wanted, so he hadn't really given this matter serious consideration.

“The other kids can easily get into the Ministry of Magic, but Ron is different. Even the worst Fred and George have Headmaster Karkaroff to admire them, but Ron… his grades… what do the prefects think of him…”

"so?"

“Let him study—Professor William is a very responsible professor. He can teach Fred and George to be excellent students. He said Ron has a talent related to dark magic, so he certainly won’t be bad.”

“If Ron really does well enough, we could consider having him stay at the school as a professor of self-defense, or even become a professor at Durmstrang—although I wouldn’t mind, I don’t want him to fall too far behind his other brothers…”

Mrs. Weasley sighed – there was nothing in the family business for Ron to inherit, and given Ron's past performance, it was very dangerous for him to get into the Ministry of Magic, even with Arthur's connections.

Moreover, we can't let the other children feel it's unfair...

"That's decided then. Let him learn it, but we need to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't get too caught up in dark magic. Just enough for him to protect himself is sufficient."

-

"cheers!"

Inside one of Iphamoni's showrooms, the Purifiers raised their glasses in celebration, gazing longingly at the man seated at the head of the long table.

They ambushed another group of reckless Aurors—American magical society had been peaceful for too long; the last upheaval was during Grindelwald's time, and the mainland was far enough away from other major magical societies that the Aurors were exceptionally bad.

In the dim light, the figure of the man at the ornately decorated long table came into view. He was bald, with a face like a snake's, featuring two long, thin nostrils, and a pair of gleaming red eyes with vertical pupils. His skin was extremely pale, seemingly emitting a pearly sheen.

"Quiet."

Voldemort gently raised his glass, and the rest of the people at the table immediately stopped talking, frantically anticipating his spell.

'A bunch of crazy people who are really useful…'

The Dark Lord was very satisfied with his new subordinates. Their cruelty far exceeded that of the Death Eaters, the Aurors, and the Strikers. The combination of their long-term pursuit and the need to hide their magical powers from everyone in order to conceal their identities made them crazy and without any bottom line.

Just as he had expected, it was a house filled with hay, which would spontaneously combust with a wave of his wand.

First, he would use these relentlessly pursued purgers to disrupt the order of the entire magical society. Then, he would exploit the suppressed destructiveness of wizards who were forced to hide themselves. Finally, he would use assassinations and other means to consolidate the Magical Congress, and the entire American magical community would fall into his hands.

He has his own school, unemployed and frustrated students, and rabid dogs that bite when unleashed—it's just too perfect.

However, we still lack sufficiently trustworthy assistants…

By the way, this kind of thing can't be left to Bertha—she's good enough at handling student graduation and employment.

Voldemort couldn't help but shudder. Ever since he had that sudden idea to send Bertha to tutor students in job hunting, the unemployment rate among graduates had increased dramatically...

"We did something insignificant... huh?"

He looked around at the purgers. “But that’s not enough, not enough. To continue safely and recklessly, we must get rid of that old guy, instead of focusing on weakening the Aurors.”

"Next, we need to figure out how to pin the evidence on those giants and centaurs... I remember the Magic Congress moved because of Bigfoot before? Why not let them do it again?"

Seeing Voldemort laugh out loud, the Purifiers inside the room joined in with hearty laughter—it was the Magical Congress's fifth relocation, thanks to Erin Nedander, the leader of the Human Magical Species Protection Organization.

Her abuse of power to attack Bigfoot, who were deemed to have "misbehaved," led them to decide to rebel, and it must be said that it was a rather influential rebellion.

"I wish to take charge, Great Dark Lord."

A young man stood up. "I'll handle it properly. Killing a few Bigfoot monsters will be enough; they've been very vocal about it..."

“Then let’s do it,” Voldemort said softly, nodding. “It’s time for the Aurors to know the glory of their forefathers that they’ve been talking about.”

Chapter 528 Reputation Damaged

In short, ... (a large black patch), in terms of magical application, even black magic pales in comparison to a sneak attack...

【口口口口口口口…】

...

Ron sat on his bed, flipping through the book which was occasionally marked, and felt increasingly irritated.

The vast majority of the book's content is obscured by powerful spells or something else, making what looks like annotations dry and uninteresting to read. Only a few snippets of information contain insights beyond the study of black magic.

He was so angry that he wanted to give up reading, but then he would occasionally see some interesting spells that made him reluctant to put the book down.

This torment continued until the next solitary confinement began. When Ron reported to William with bloodshot eyes, he frankly told William that he had read most of the books in the past few days.

"I've learned three of the five spells loaded into the notes in the book, but I just can't seem to cast the other two."

Ron lowered his head, a hint of resentment in his eyes—he thought he could do better, but he couldn't cast the other two spells at all.

Three?

William looked at Ron with a mixture of helplessness and surprise in his eyes.

He never expected Ron to bring up the discovery of the notes in the book so directly—frankly, if it were twins, the two would just pretend nothing had happened.

Those spells and textbooks were carefully selected and revised by him before being left for Ron, but self-study and teaching are two different concepts—the latter is theoretically a more serious matter. Although he didn't care, and the Ministry of Magic wouldn't hold him accountable, directly stating it would be too...

Moreover, teaching Ron simple things on his own was also a test for William. If Ron couldn't even master basic black magic, it would really be contrary to his judgment.

"Hmm... Show me the spell."

William flicked his finger, casting an Ironclad Charm on himself, and then had Ron begin the demonstration.

Ron easily cast the three curses, but the two were basic-level dark magic spells…

'That shouldn't be the case; the former should be more difficult than the latter, so how could it be…'

His talent for curses was slightly better than William had imagined, but his dark magic was so bad it was unbearable to watch.

...

William looked at Ron, somewhat puzzled—what was going on?

How long did it take you to learn them?

"The first one took half an hour, the second one was about the same, and the third one took a little longer, about an hour and a half."

Ron was unsure and answered cautiously—he was afraid of being judged as lacking talent.

'That shouldn't be the case... It doesn't make sense... Gryffindors aren't Hufflepuffs, where students start hating dark magic from their first year in an environment that fosters a love of the dark...'

'Wait…'

He suddenly thought of something.

"A wand—what is your wand?"