163: Execution
163: Execution
Rufus Scrimgeour was panicking.
He had dispatched additional Dementors to Hogwarts.
During his tenure, he had boasted with great confidence, but now, nearly an entire term had passed, and there was still no sign of Sirius Black.
In fact, due to Sirius Black, a dozen Dementors had gone missing.
The Ministry of Magic's reputation was in shambles, and the only way Scrimgeour could remove the "acting" from his title and restore the Ministry's face was by capturing Sirius Black.
John encountered a grim-faced Rufus Scrimgeour in the castle and figured he was having a rough day.
Scrimgeour had graced Hogwarts with his presence, accompanied by members of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures and an executioner.
For a magical creature to warrant the personal attention of the Minister?
If it were Fudge, perhaps it would make some sense.
But Scrimgeour, with his Auror background and tough stance, shouldn't concern himself with such trivial matters.
His arrival clearly had ulterior motives.
"Is he thinking Johnny Silverhand is unreliable and wants to find a new backer?"
Squinting slightly, John watched Scrimgeour head toward the headmaster's office. Clearly, there was a conversation to be had.
What a pity.
If Scrimgeour were the actual Minister of Magic, perhaps he'd have some leverage.
But as of now, Scrimgeour was merely an acting minister, and his personality wasn't one to win over Dumbledore.
"Execution at sunset, huh? Buckbeak has become a pawn in this game."
Thinking about Hagrid's letter, John felt a pang of guilt.
"I'll go comfort him later."
With a sigh, John headed to the Constellation Society's secret room.
The holidays were approaching, and there were still some things in the room that needed attention.
Arriving on the fourth floor, John glanced at the magic he'd left behind. Aside from Constellation Society members, someone else had tried to enter.
However, the intruder hadn't discerned the enchantments on the wooden door, so John decided to let it slide for now.
Opening the door and stepping inside, he noticed that the Firebolt had been cleaned and carefully placed back in its spot.
It was obvious who had done it—Malfoy.
John then opened the passage to the armory.
Entering the armory, John raised his hand and summoned the Silverwick Sword.
There was now an additional crack on the Super Magic Crystal. His gaze shifted to the new pair of shoes on the table, and he completed the final adjustments.
Slipping on the new shoes, he turned his attention to the Enchantment Ring.
The ring on his right hand had turned pitch black, the gemstone now entirely dark, like a bottomless abyss.
"The Soul-Devouring Curse shouldn't be overused," he muttered.
After inspecting it for a while, John noticed a barely visible crack.
The ring, after all, wasn't a particularly powerful vessel. Even magical crystals shattered under the strain of too much magic, let alone this ring.
He packed the Heart of Silence and the Enchantment Ring he had crafted recently into a small briefcase. Items like these weren't casually sold in Johnny Silverhand's boutique.
The shop carefully selected its clientele—only those who passed the vetting process could make a purchase.
Of course, some dark wizards could also buy them. After all, what's Knockturn Alley without a little gray-market trade?
However, the prices for such items were anything but friendly.
Once both items were packed, the small briefcase grew significantly heavier.
Though it had an Undetectable Extension Charm, it didn't make the contents weightless.
This particular alchemical creation by Nicolas Flamel had also been enchanted with a Levitation Charm, ensuring it always felt lightweight.
Originally, it seemed to have been designed for Madame Flamel. But when the couple decided to leave this world, they gifted it to John as a parting gift.
With everything packed—including ten magical crystals, five from the Constellation Society's secret room and five he had crafted himself—John was finally ready.
Feeling unusually punctual, he headed to dinner.
As soon as he entered, he saw Malfoy, fresh out of exams, bragging loudly about how effortless everything had been.
It almost gave people the illusion that anyone with hands could succeed.
John sat quietly after finishing his meal, watching Malfoy put on his little show.
Perhaps his "watching an idiot" expression was too blatant, as Malfoy gave an awkward laugh and sat down.
The moment his seat touched the bench, John asked, "Have you finished your training tasks?"
Malfoy froze and touched his hair. He clearly didn't expect that he'd still have to train even during final exams.
Meeting John's gaze, he shivered and hurriedly said, "I'll go right now!"
With that, he bolted from the Great Hall.
Goyle and Crabbe stuffed a couple of pieces of bread into their mouths and rushed after Malfoy.
Daphne, surprised to see John dining at a regular time, hadn't even prepared one of her infamous dishes yet.
When John saw her preparing to unleash her culinary "talents," he panicked, quickly stuffed bread into his mouth, and claimed he was full.
As he finished, he noticed the Golden Trio finishing their meal, their faces filled with worry as they discussed Hagrid while heading out.
John decided to follow them but stayed unnoticed as they exited the hall.
As he passed a broom closet, John paused in his tracks.
"Which couple's being this brazen?" he muttered.
With a peculiar expression, John glanced at the closet and muttered again, "Not even nighttime yet, and they're already sneaking around for a date? In a place like this?"
Shaking his head, he continued on his way.
Not long after he left, two heavy sighs of relief came from inside the closet.
A boy's voice, tinged with alarm, whispered, "Did he see us?"
A girl's uncertain voice responded, "Probably not. After all, we just walked past him earlier."
...
On his way, John spotted Rufus Scrimgeour, the acting Minister of Magic, descending the stairs with a sour expression.
Two members of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures followed closely behind.
This brief encounter delayed John a little.
By the time he reached Hagrid's hut, he saw Buckbeak tethered in the pumpkin patch outside.
'Looks like Harry and the others are inside comforting Hagrid,' John thought.
The sound of a jar smashing came from inside, a clear sign that Hagrid was not in a good mood.
Locking eyes with Buckbeak, John suddenly remembered he'd never ridden the creature before.
He stepped forward and bowed. Buckbeak, tied to a wooden stake, bowed back in return.
John approached to gently stroke its feathers, considering the possibility of taking Buckbeak away right now. But doing so would undoubtedly implicate Hagrid.
"Go in peace," John whispered softly beside Buckbeak's head. His gaze turned cold as he added, "Broken pieces must be removed."
He patted Buckbeak's head lightly before turning to leave.
He decided against entering the hut. Having been of little help in this matter, John didn't feel like facing Hagrid.
Just as he turned away, he stopped again.
With a faintly puzzled expression, he turned toward the forest behind the pumpkin patch.
The forest was eerily quiet, but John had a vague feeling he'd seen something.
To confirm, his eyes narrowed into vertical slits.
The presence within the forest seemed startled and quickly retreated.
John frowned, fixing his gaze on that direction, debating whether to investigate.
Tick, Tick...
In the silence, John heard a faint sound.
Taking out a golden pocket watch from his pocket, he glanced at the time and then looked up at the setting sun.
The sun was descending toward the Forbidden Forest, and in the distance, a group of figures appeared, silhouetted against the light, heading toward the castle.
It was the team from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, Rufus Scrimgeour, and Dumbledore.
With such a formidable lineup, John knew he couldn't pull the wool over Dumbledore's eyes.
Reluctantly, he gave up his plan and ran in another direction.
Not long after John left, the trio slipped out of Hagrid's hut, cloaked in the Invisibility Cloak, sneaking away through the back door.
Once everyone had gone, heavy breathing could be heard from the forest behind the pumpkin patch.
"Bloody hell, why does it feel like John always manages to spot us?"
A voice echoed in the quiet, as the sunset's golden light filtered through the trees, revealing two familiar faces—Harry and Hermione.
Both had bandages on their faces.
Harry hadn't expected that, apart from their own group, John had also planned to rescue Buckbeak.
Hermione, meanwhile, had a gleam in her eyes that was almost alarming. Around her slender neck hung a gold chain with a shimmering hourglass.
As if struck by inspiration, she whispered, "Do you remember what Professor Dumbledore said?"
Harry was puzzled. "What did Dumbledore say?"
Seeing his confusion, Hermione gave him a look of exasperation, like a mother frustrated with her child's slow understanding. She reminded him in a hushed voice, "If all goes well tonight, you might save more than one innocent life. If things get difficult, perhaps seek out help."
Hermione took a deep breath and said, "We need help, Harry."
...
Meanwhile, inside Hagrid's hut, the death sentence for Buckbeak was being read aloud.
"The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures has ruled that the hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter referred to as the guilty creature, shall be executed on June 6th at sunset…"
"…Sentenced to decapitation, to be carried out by the executioner appointed by the committee, Walden Macnair…"
Rufus Scrimgeour wore a grim expression, while Dumbledore remained exceptionally cheerful, engaging Scrimgeour in conversation as though he hadn't just refused to intervene in the headmaster's office earlier.
During the sentencing, no one noticed a shadowy figure sneaking into the pumpkin patch from the forest.
When Buckbeak saw the person, it bowed in greeting. The figure returned the gesture with a bow of their own.
Buckbeak: This person bowed—safe to approach!
Harry: "Buckbeak, come on, let's go!"
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