vncnus Chapter 163 Voldemort's Jinchūriki: Harry
Chapter 163 Voldemort's Jinchūriki: Harry
Chapter 163 Voldemort's Jinchūriki: Harry
After placing his hand on the key, Harry Potter felt air being forced into his esophagus bit by bit, his stomach churning. At the same time, he felt a powerful grip on his body, as if he were hanging helplessly on a high-speed flying broomstick.
After he cleared away the discomfort, he realized that he had arrived at a place that resembled a vegetable market.
The chaotic crowd, the constant noise, the halls and corridors were crowded with wizards and a cacophony of foul language.
If it weren't for the fact that everyone present, surrounded by people, was dressed formally, this would be the busiest time at the farmers' market.
But he knew that this place was the Ministry of Magic, the center of power in the British magical world in the eyes of the world.
He saw some hot-blooded youths trying their best to rush into the crowd, maintaining the situation as much as possible so that no one would be harmed. They preferred to use physical means to control the situation rather than use magic to fight back.
The leader frantically dodged the magic, pushing his way in while loudly urging everyone to calm down. He said that whatever the matter was, they could put down their wands and talk it out calmly, and that they should not resort to such extreme methods to avoid causing casualties.
"That guy is risking so much danger to go forward, it's too dangerous! Should we help him?" Harry pointed out the Ministry of Magic staff member at the front to Dumbledore, hoping to get the headmaster's permission to intervene and rescue the man.
That's right, he didn't want Dumbledore to do it himself; he wanted to test just how powerful Voldemort really was.
Originally, he didn't know how to answer the question of whether he wanted power.
But after experiencing the joy of being Voldemort's Jinchūriki, Harry Potter could only say, "It's so good!"
Young Harry wasn't concerned with actual combat abilities; instead, he was very interested in his academic performance, classroom conduct, and the praise he received from professors after absorbing Voldemort's power.
For example, during her Transfiguration classes, Hermione always seemed to effortlessly accomplish everything Professor McGonagall taught, acting like a troll. No matter how she waved her wand, the transfigured objects didn't react at all.
However, ever since he signed the contract to become Voldemort's jinchūriki, he has performed no worse than Hermione in Professor McGonagall's classes! He had already surpassed Hermione's performance in Charms class, and in the practical classes of Defense Against the Dark Arts, which Lane was in charge of, his performance far exceeded that of his peers!
During this time, he earned a huge number of Gryffindor points, earning the respect of all his classmates. Percy, George, and others asked him more than once what magic potion he had taken.
Harry would always give a mysterious smile, and he would naturally understand how Ryan felt.
Following Harry Potter's pointing finger, Dumbledore saw his former student council president charging into battle, braving arrows, displaying unwavering loyalty, courage, chivalry, and righteousness—and was speechless with emotion.
He was truly speechless.
How did his sunny and cheerful student council president turn into this?!
Who exactly led him astray like this?!
"—He's your senior, named Ral. Go help him and see if you can get the situation under control," Dumbledore said expressionlessly.
Kingsley, who followed behind them, had a more expressive face than Dumbledore.
Kingsley didn’t believe at all that Ralvin had done things without Dumbledore’s permission.
At the same time, he genuinely acknowledged Dumbledore's outward composure. Ralvin's actions this time were clearly the work of a rising star he had personally promoted, but Dumbledore acted as if he knew nothing about it.
Furthermore, why send a first-year wizard to help? Kingsley didn't understand. Even Harry Potter wouldn't do it. Anyone with eyes could see that Harry Potter wasn't the one who truly defeated Voldemort. Harry Potter's status in the wizarding world was entirely due to his symbolic significance, not his magical abilities.
"I'll go help too." He stepped forward, ready to keep an eye on things, as Dumbledore had sent this young wizard.
Everyone knows that the Savior is a complete Dumbledore supporter. At this time, showing goodwill to the Savior is the same as showing goodwill to Dumbledore—a sure-fire deal. Kingsley drew his wand and said gently to Harry, "Don't worry, come with me."
He had only taken two steps forward when he heard a loud shout behind him: "Disarm you!"
A beam of red light shot out from behind him, striking the ceiling directly. The thick beam of light shattered into tiny rays that fell down, and the wizards hit by these rays dropped their wands.
In an instant, after countless tiny, red, snake-like rays of light fell, the number of spells flying in the corridor decreased by 50%.
Huh? This is a disarming spell! Kingsley thought he must be under an illusion today.
Otherwise, how could we have seen a large group of people storming the Ministry of Magic?
Otherwise, how could the esteemed Auror Office Director have unexpectedly collapsed?
Otherwise, how could a first-year student unleash strength comparable to an elite Auror? That disarming spell is definitely at the level of an elite Auror!
Harry himself was startled. When he sparred with George Fred at school, he had used other spells, but none of them could achieve the effect of this disarming spell.
Could it be that my best spell is the Disarming Charm? He recalled what Dumbledore had told him during his lessons: every wizard has their best and worst spells, determined by a wizard's aptitude, personality, and a series of other factors—a kind of innate ability.
With Harry's help, Larvin and his colleagues bravely moved forward, calmed the crowd, and discovered Scrimgeour's body lying on the ground.
"Mr. Scrimgeour, hold on, we're coming to get you," Larvin said, reaching out to pull Scrimgeour, only to find his hand blocked mid-air.
Scrimgeour on the ground was still holding his wand. Although his wizarding robes covered the wand to some extent, a closer look revealed that the tip of the wand was glowing.
As if recognizing that the person was Larvin, the wand suddenly went out.
When Larvin went to help Scrimgeour up again, there was no hindrance. Coincidentally, Scrimgeour slowly woke up, paused for a second, and then realized that he still had to get into the battle. He cautiously drew his wand, his face showing that he would protect Fudge at all costs.
Seeing this, Larvin shouted, "Everyone, let's talk this out! Don't use spells on the Minister! Come at me if you have a problem!"
Hiding under the desk and spying on everything outside, Fuqi's eyes filled with tears: I wronged Zhongliang, which led to this situation!
It's all Umbridge's fallacious lies! He's misled the country and its people! If only we had listened to Scrimgeour and Larvin earlier, things wouldn't be like this today!
Dumbledore, leading the way, pulled Luna along and walked slowly through the crowd. Wherever he went, people parted to make way for him, like Moses parting the Red Sea.
Dumbledore didn't speak or use magic, but the oppressive feeling he exuded was far more intense than that of Larvin, Harry, and the others waving their wands.
He looked at Fudge, but could only see a table protected by a few Ministry of Magic employees.
"Where's Fudge?"